Monday, January 23, 2017

Getting Ready for Hospitality

It has been a good week-end, but exhausting.  Last night I thought about how much my feet and legs ached, and I realized that I had spent much of Sunday afternoon and evening on my feet.  I am finally catching up with chores I meant to complete months ago, and then over Christmas.

My college roommate arrives tomorrow on her way back to Montana from the women's march.  Her arrival spurred me to make some progress on the cottage and to get the guest room into shape--that way, she can decide which bed she prefers, how much privacy she'd like.

The cottage is far from complete, but now there are new sheets on the bed, a quilt, and a covering for the scratched side table.  A T.V. might be nice, along with a coffee maker, but I haven't had a chance to buy those yet.  And let's not even think about the structural repairs that will be necessary should we ever decide to do something more commercial with the cottage.

Still, I was pleased to see that the cottage can sit empty and not suffer.  I walked in, half expecting to see mold on the walls or lots of dead bugs, but all was well.  I thought about how much I liked the little space--perhaps because it has a lack of furniture.  There's a bed, an upholstered chair with an ottoman, a side table, and a larger rectangular table and wooden chair where one could eat or sew or write.

Could I live there?  Probably--although the kitchen is quite small.  But if it was just me, and I needed a stripped-down existence--yes, of course, I could.

Yesterday evening, while much of the nation watched football, I headed to the grocery store.  We now have some turkey and roast beef and provolone slices for sandwiches, and we'll have beef stroganoff on Tuesday.  On Thursday, we'll have chicken mole poblano, and all week-end, we'll grill.

Yes, we're close to ready.  The house still has pockets of dust, but it likely always will.  I'll do some last cleaning tomorrow.  But if we're still the same at our core here in our early 50's as we were in our college years, my friend will not arrive looking for white-glove cleanliness.  She will delight in home-cooked meals and pots of tea and nourishing conversation.

So will I.

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