Winter Wonderland

 

 

This past weekend Hans and I went back in time and while I wish I could say it was a 'simpler' time, it wasn't. What happened was; a polar vortex (when I was a kid we called it snow) swept through our area dumping a couple of feet of the white stuff upon us. This vortex couldn't have come at a worse time as Santa was due to make his appearance at the inn for Breakfast with Santa on Saturday morning and let me tell you when Santa is on his way there's a hell of a lot of preparation involved. This meant that on Friday night (but only after the last of the diners have gone home) all the tables in the main dining room had to be completely rearranged and prepped for the jolly man's visit (and put back to normal after the whole shebang was done).

With the dire threat of weather moving in it was decided that instead of sending us home in a blizzard only to come back a few hours later, the affected staff should spend the weekend. And that's how Hans (weekend pianist), Wilbur (wannabe dishwasher), and I (waitress) found ourselves back in the same room we lived in last year. After Santa's visit I had to change out of my elf costume (seriously) and into my uniform for a company Christmas party, so my day started at 7AM and ended around 11PM. The next morning I was up early and getting one of our small dining rooms ready for a private party due for brunch.

We weren't sure what Wilbur would think about all this but after a couple of hours he got into the swing of things. We're pretty sure he enjoyed a consistently heated room (we turn the electric heat off when we leave the house), and he loved his outside romps with Hans. Wilbur's desire to mark where other dogs have gone before him far outweighed his hatred of the cold.

So, I have to share this one story here. It was on Thursday that I called Hans telling him to go ahead and pack up our belongings and the dog and come to the inn before the snow hit the fan. Right around 2PM, seventy-eight elementary kids had just exited their 'learning manners lunch' in our main dining room when I heard (and felt) something thundering through the room.

I was stunned to realize the thunder was Wilbur.

Unleashed.

You've no idea what it's like to unexpectedly see your dog hurl himself through your work place.

Wilbur stopped when he could go no further and then sniffed frantically at the floor. "Come to Mama," I hopefully called. He lifted his head when he heard me and then took off in the opposite direction. Luckily another delicious smell caught him up short and I was able to snag his collar. That's when I saw a perplexed Hans standing at the dining room door.

I think I lost it about then and I won't relay what I'm pretty sure I said (screamed). Anyway, Hans, in the midst of navigating the dog and our belongings to our room, let Wilbur off his leash... and needless to say, Wilbur followed his nose. I'm just thankful the dining room was empty. Imagine the flood of outraged phone calls we would have received from the parents of all those traumatized students!

It didn't happen again.

We finally arrived home, turned up the heat, plugged in the space heater, and threw blankets over our confused pit bull. I have to say, as much as Wilbur may have enjoyed his adventure at the inn he's been happy to once again sleep in our Queen Size bed on the floor instead of falling out of the 'way up high' Double Size bed at the inn all night long.

Contemplating ways to get back into the dining room.

 

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Surviving

It seems like just yesterday that Hurricane Mathew was in the news and Hans and I were wondering if we'd have a boat to go home to in January. After days of listening to the 'We Love and Live for Severe Weather Action News Team' happily vacillate between, 'It's gonna miss Florida', to, 'Everyone in Florida's gonna die!' and then hearing that 90MPH winds were expected to hit the boat yard at 2 AM where our Knotty Cat sits, I simply went to bed.

Thankfully, the winds were a lot closer to 40 MPH and the Knotty Cat survived although we know some stuff on deck got blown around. We'll have to wait until January to find out for ourselves the extent as no one has access to her innards.

No sooner did we get past the hurricane, than we endured the election. Again, a lot of hot wind got blown around. But it's over. Finally. Well, not really. Those crack news teams will keep us posted.

And now we get to worry about winter as we live in the heart of a snow belt. We are down to less than two months of living here and this weekend we got hit with our first snowstorm and it was a doozy. Yesterday Wilbur was happily frolicking about in 70 degree weather and today bitter cold gusts of wind were whistling up his butt. I'd forgotten what it's like to scrape a vehicle while icy snow finds its way down the collar of my coat and we fear Wilbur may not poop again until spring.

Last week

Last night. Add about 10 more inches of snow and drop the temperature to 34F.

Wilbur lying on a floor without pillows? That must be a pretty potent heater

 

But in the meantime, we have to get through that marathon known as Thanksgiving. Hans will be on the piano and once again I'll be waiting tables and we expect a thousand or so people at the inn this year. Last year I hit the floor in the morning and didn't finish until after 6PM, all without ever taking a bathroom break or eating anything. I really have no explanation for this.

We did manage to escape for a couple of days and drove across the state to see my new granddaughter. Of course she's beautiful, and such a happy, content baby. I wouldn't let go of her and held her for several sweaty hours at a time.

But, oh my, baby technology gadgets have certainly evolved over the years. Baby swings? They aren't swings anymore, they're remote controlled pod-like seats mounted on pedestals and are swooped up and down and all about with your choice of sounds: rain, heartbeats, music... The nursery? It has strategically placed cameras so the baby can be seen and heard on your iPhone while alone. Although it will be awhile before Baby sleeps there since she's still in with Mom and Dad. Baby's infant seat is so versatile it locks into not only the car, but the stroller, the jogging stroller, and the play pen. At one point I asked if Baby needed to be changed and my son opened her sleeper, took a quick peek at the front of her diaper, and said no. It seems that diapers these days have whimsical prints that change color if the diaper is soiled. Gone are the days of sniffing Baby's butt while yanking down the back of the diaper with your fingers.

It was really hard to leave but I have to say this baby is in excellent hands. We get weekly updates and plan on one last visit before heading south in January.

Hans couldn't get over the tiny fingers

More 'Life in the Country' stuff: I don't know if it was a good thing or not that Hans was oblivious to what was going on between Dear Friend and me the other day and therefor didn't have his camera at the ready. Dear Friend's doxies spend a good deal of their day yipping and yapping. Period. We've grown used to it and even Wilbur ignores them. However, the day came that the yipping escalated into hysterical screams and since I was still in my pink robe and slippers, instead of rushing to the rescue, I called Dear Friend to inform her that one of her doxies was apparently being eaten alive.

But I couldn't just stand by, so out the door I went anyway. And there in the middle of our dirt road I met Dear Friend and she was also in her pink robe and slippers. What we couldn't understand was why all three of her doxies were now galavanting and cavorting without a care in the world. And then we both spotted a very pissed off cat up a tree right in front of us. The screaming had been a result of the 'treeing' but by now the dogs were bored. The cat eventually ran away and both Dear Friend and I were relieved Hans didn't get that lovely picture of us in our robes as it was well past noon. Hey, we had to be at work later so you can't blame us for waiting until the last minute to get dressed.

 

Yum! Kittehs taste just like chicken

 

At the inn we're on a countdown til the season ends, while Hans and I are on a countdown until we leave for the boat. Life is flying by quickly.

 

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