I take pride in my hospitality skills. Grant it, for some periods of my recent life it’s been hit or miss (“my what a lovely mushroom lasagna with homemade pasta” or “Is this delivery? NO, it’s DiGiorno!) but when I’m on, I am ON! Okay, the house might be trashed but your sheets will always be 600 thread count, clean and have a ridiculous amount of fabric softener and you have your own bathroom. Ear plugs upon request.
Now that it’s summer, your bed and breakfast stay may include an evening of zip lining, Swing of Terroring, bottles and bottles of home brew, a hammock, a dozen tiki torches, a fire pit and hours of conversation. You may even get a few moments of peace when your hosts go to bed.
If your host’s last neighborhood suffered from home invasions before the move, you quite possibly will meet a habitually locked door when you finally attempt to go to bed. You will round the house and find the garage door open (???) but every door will be locked. You may knock on the door but no one will hear you. You’ll return to the comfy hammock and think, “this isn’t so bad.” Until the blinding rain comes. You’ll seek cover on the back porch on a chaise lounge where you will weather out the night and the storm until your six-year-old second cousin once removed sneaks downstairs to watch t.v. at 6:30.
Chateau Cookie. Always an adventure. Wouldn’t you agree, Cousin Kate?