Creating New Sunday Traditions: A Summer Hydrangea Tablescape at The Willows

Do you ever have good intentions that somehow slip through the cracks? Those yearly promises we make to ourselves to be more intentional? Now that my family is older, we’ve drifted into the 'fend for yourself' lunch habit. While we still share dinner in front of the TV—not exactly aspirational, but at least we're together—I’ve been craving something more.

The history of our Sunday table

My partner’s family used to gather at his mother’s house every Tuesday night for family dinner, siblings, cousins, partners. Dinners were simple; chicken and chips from the takeaway store across the street, or “Rainee’s Stew,” a tasty casserole of steak and veg that we all now make at home in Rainee’s memory. It is truly comfort food that evokes that sense of home and family.

From my own family background, we had a hot Sunday lunch, served after we came home from Church. We would sit at the round dining table and have a meal together, a continuation from the sense of community that we enjoyed during the morning’s service. These meals were usually easy to prepare, and my absolute favourites were lasagne, served with a side salad and a slice of orange, and Hawaiian ham steaks. Served with potato gems, carrots and peas it was heavenly.

These shared meals were a wonderful way to connect with everyone, and I have fond memories of that time. I want to create that here. I want to carve out a Sunday tradition where we sit around the table and spend time together. I would love my adult children and their families to join us, being well aware that work rosters and energy levels will dictate availability.

While we, as a family at The Willows, can gather on the deck for an impromptu evening meal, I think having people over weekly might be a stretch — for me definitely, and possibly for them too. Monthly feels like the sweet spot. This feels like the beginning of something for us.

I had hoped to get all of our family together during January, but that wasn’t possible, so it was “team B” for Sunday Lunch, which due to work commitments turned into Sunday Dinner.  I wanted the setting to feel special; these are, after all, the most cherished people in my life, and worthy of a little effort in the table decorating department. 

And so, with all of that in mind, I turned to my favourite part; playing dress-up with the table. If you are interested in the details, keep reading below.

The hydrangea hack

The secret to horticulture is…outsourcing.

I love a theme; it gets my creative juices flowing and it means that I will actively seek out and use items that I own which may not ordinarily see the light of day, particularly on a dining table.

The theme that I chose for January was high summer and hydrangeas. I conjured up a cool summer palette of blue, vanilla white, and the softest green to temper the summer heat. Hydrangeas with their airy, cool mops of colour seemed ideal, and brought to mind the banks of hydrangeas that grew profusely along the side of my grandparent’s house in Sydney.

But here’s the thing: I love hydrangeas so much that I leave them at the garden centre where they will be safe, sound, and blissfully unaware of my murderous tendencies.

I have tried so many times to grow them. Really, I have. I’ve placed them under shade cloth, in pots, in the ground, in the shadiest corner of the shadiest part of the garden. I’ve watered them once a day, twice a day, whispered prayers to the gardening gods… and still the Adelaide summer heat says,
“Nice try, sweetheart,”
and shrivels them before my very eyes.

So this year, with my sanity and water bills in mind, I made an executive decision: I bought some faux hydrangeas.

Yes, faux. Silk. Pretend. Plastic if you’re feeling unkind.

And you know what? I can absolutely guarantee these beauties won’t die on me. They will look fresh, lush, and delightfully non-crispy for years to come. And for the purposes of a tablescape, they deliver exactly the soft, romantic hydrangea moment I wanted,  without the guilt of yet another plant funeral.

Sometimes the secret to beauty is simply… outsourcing the horticulture.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I had to resist the Very Strong Urge (VSU)to rush out and purchase new hydrangea themed table ware. With financial and space constraints in mind, I had to make do with what I have, and if I’m honest, I do have a lot on hand. So, I pulled out my Blue Willow dinner plates. The fact that we live in a house called The Willows made purchasing these plates at an estate auction some years ago a no-brainer, and we use them daily. 

I reached into my stash of thrifted table linen and found a white tablecloth with a dreamy pale blue border, added my (thrifted) crystal champagne flutes and crisp white napkins. It looked lovely, but it evoked anniversary dinner rather than a casual family meal, so to make the mood more low-key,  I swapped out the napkins for some grey-blue ones that had been a Christmas gift and replaced the champagne flutes for some acrylic tumblers.

This transformed the table, and the mood was light, airy and cool, which was warranted on a very hot day. However, as I alluded to in a previous post, it felt a little flat to me. It had none of the expansiveness of hydrangeas and felt too restrained for what I was craving

 I missed my competing patterns and textures, so I had a do-over the following day. The family couldn’t believe their luck that they had 2 nights in a row of a nicely set table. I hope they don’t expect it every night.

Take 2

In order to amp up the vibrancy of the table setting, I replaced the white tablecloth with one patterned with pale blue toile, which gave instant blue hydrangea vibes. I then added my favourite green runner down the middle of the table which felt more in keeping with my vision of garden-fresh greenery. I dug out our white Corelle dinner and side plates and layered those with  paper napkins printed with violet-blue hydrangeas. I set my faux hydrangeas into 2 green tumblers in the middle of the table and added a cut-glass jug filled with sparkling water, sliced limes and mint leaves - and I exhaled. It was the vision that I was seeking the previous night, but didn’t attain. It felt floral and abundant, just like the flowers that inspired the theme.

More importantly, it set the stage for exactly what I wanted: a reason to linger together. We may not have hit our "Team A" goals for January, but "Team B" had a beautiful Sunday dinner that felt like a new beginning. It reminded me that even if the first attempt feels a little "flat," it’s always worth a do-over to get the atmosphere just right.

What about you? Is there a tradition you're trying to revive, or a small "do-over" that brought a glimmer of joy to your week?