Jeff thinks that the windows let the person in the kitchen be social with the people on the deck. I don't think it's true, especially since you have to pull the shade to be in the kitchen when it is deck weather. On Friday, we had Pete and Marisa over for dinner, and Zander and Otis were around for a while drinking beer and eating popsicles. Of course, everyone was on the deck, right where they should have been. If I were my mother and had dinner ready hours earlier, I would have been on the deck, too. But hours earlier I was holding babies and planting seeds and pushing swings, none of which I was willing to cut short. So I roasted the potatoes and mixed the romesco, cooked the beans and cleaned the artichokes, during happy hour. Marisa came in for a while and made art with my messy basket of herbs, and the kids dashed to the door just to run screaming again, pretending I was a witch for forbidding them to bring their dripping strawberry-pulp popsicles inside. When Jeff came in from a long swing-pushing/beer-drinking session, he commented on my 'slaving' and I think the people in general felt that they had better really talk up the food since I seemed to be working so hard, and missing all the fun. Even Zelda was especially effusive; with raised eyebrows she repeated that she couldn't understand why Otis didn't like our food.
I know that it is considered more gracious to make it look easy, to keep the mess away from the guests, and laugh off our efforts. But the truth is, I was having a wonderful time.