My first entry

I have been told several times that my life is unusual, and that I should blog. An incident happened this weekend that has convinced me that they may be right. When I was 29, my husband and I, with 10 month old baby in tow, opened a bed and breakfast inn. Ten years later, we are still running the inn, but now with 4 children along for the wild ride. It is very true that I often think to myself "The other innkeepers never have to deal with THIS!" or even "The other mothers don't have to deal with THIS!" Last Thursday night was one of these occasions.

I was sound asleep in bed when the phone rang at midnight. It was a young couple who had been blocked from continuing to their destination by a snowstorm and a downed power line, and had been in the car for 12 hours. They needed a safe place to stay where they did not need to worry about unloading their belongings from their car. I gave them directions, hung up, jumped out of bed, and quickly began turning on all the lights and heat in the inn, and checking to see that all was in general good order. I glanced out the front window and that is when I SAW IT. "Tom, Tom, TOM!!!!" I started shouting, and he came staggering in, still half asleep. I quickly began to explain the scenario which was about to ensue if we did not take immediate action. The young couple, worn and exhausted, would pull into our driveway. As they came around the corner, their headlights would light up the parking spot immediately in front of our entrance. There, right in the center, they would see it- a 3-foot-high snowman, it's stony mouth grinning cheerily, stick arms outstretched, its head liberally SOAKED with tomato ketchup. (Apparently, this was seen as HILARIOUS by my 10-year-old son and his best friend. A bloody snowman. Haha!) They would then, I predicted, beat a hasty retreat to the local Best Western.

Tom knew just what to do. He grabbed his car keys, jumped into the minivan, and plowed into the snowman, crushing its bleeding noggin in a matter of seconds, and leaving it to melt somewhere beneath the undercarriage. With only minutes to spare, he dashed inside just in time to greet our world-weary guests, who never knew the gory sight that almost welcomed them. As I crawled back into bed, I once again sighed "The other innkeepers never have to deal with THIS!"

(Dear Prospective Guests, we want to reassure that this is NOT the typical atmosphere around out inn. Just one of those things we have to be ready for. We are, like ducks, serene above the water and paddling like crazy below!)