Hosting Handbook
by Tash Brooks
You know that feeling when people you love come to stay, and by day three you are quietly reevaluating your entire friendship? Okay, maybe not THAT dramatic, but you are definitely wondering if you ever want to host again. You wanted cozy togetherness, late night chats in the kitchen, kids running around making memories in your home. What you got was someone blocking the dishwasher, mismatched routines, a bathroom that never seems free, and this weird tension of wanting your space back while also wanting them to feel completely welcome. There is a reason people say, “Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.” Brutal, and also kind of true….unless you have actually learned the art of hosting.
Because real hosting is less about perfect table settings and more about how people feel when they are in your care.
It isn’t about becoming some mythical, unflappable host who whips up homemade French Toast at dawn and never runs out of fresh towels (though I do have an incredible French Toast recipe for mornings like these). It’s about something quieter and far more human - noticing what will put someone at ease, offering comfort before they have to ask, and creating an atmosphere where both you and your guests can show up as your real, unedited selves.
The art of hosting lives in these tiny, intentional choices.
It’s a lamp left on in the hallway so no one has to fumble in the dark. It’s a favorite snack waiting on the counter because you remembered they love it. It’s a welcome basket with a handwritten note on the bedside table with the Wi-Fi code and the words, “We’re so glad you’re here.” It’s not just saying, “Help yourself to anything,” it’s setting things up so guests actually feel safe enough to do so.
Great hosts aren’t necessarily the most polished or the most put-together. They’re the ones who pay attention to the small things that make life softer, for their guests and for themselves. They understand that warmth without any boundaries leads to burnout, and boundaries without warmth feel like rules. So they practice both. A clear sense of what they need to stay sane, and a generous spirit that says, “I’m glad you’re here.”
When you get that balance right, warmth plus a few gentle, honest boundaries, something shifts. No one is silently counting down the days. You don’t feel like a martyr in your own home. Your guests don’t feel like an imposition. The visit becomes what you hoped it would be in the first place: shared life, shared space, shared memories.
At its heart, hosting is love and friendship in action.
It takes ordinary moments, a cup of tea before bed, the sound of kids whispering in the next room, a suitcase tucked by the door, and turns them into something that feels safe, held, and just the right amount of magical.
This guide is here to help you do exactly that.
Not by turning you into someone else, but by giving you language, ideas, and simple practices so that the next time people you love stay in your home, you don’t end the visit questioning the friendship. You end it tired in the best way, with a full heart, a quieter house, and the sense that your home really did what you always hoped it could do; hold the people you love well, without losing your mind in the process.
Who it’s for:
Anyone who has (or wants to have) house guests and wants it to feel warm and effortless instead of stressful and awkward.
Outcomes:
You will:
Know the difference between clean and truly welcoming
Have a pre-arrival, arrival, during, and departure plan for guests
Walk away with simple, repeatable rituals to make guests feel special
Learn how to set boundaries kindly so hosting doesn’t burn you out
This will be a series of posts, workbooks, interviews with the best hosts and party planners in the business. Stay tuned for more!