It is the “Mud Season” here in Maryland and across the eastern seaboard. The time of year when the snow turns gray beside the road and slushy rivulets traverse tired grass lawns on their way to the nearest stream.

For some, mud season is what they have waited for through a long hot summer, crisp fall and freezing winter, because it is the time of year when there is a large range of temperature between the nights and days. It is this range that makes the sap rise, and when that happens its Maple Syrup time.

The farmers who tap the Maple trees all across the hills of Maryland and beyond raise cattle, grow corn and other crops through the year, but in the mud season they can be found in amongst the trees as the maple sap fills their tapping cans or in the barn as the watery sap is reduced in huge boilers until it is pale brown and syrupy and ready to bottle for the stores. Many of the farmers give maple syrup making demonstrations to the public at the weekends, which is another small money maker for them.

We have a shelf full of Garrett County Maple Syrup 2011 in our little gift shop. We sold the last of the 2010 vintage and drove out into the country to the Steyer (pronounced Stoyer) Brothers farm where they have been very busy. Mrs Steyer had our order waiting for us. She had just returned from the cattle market where her husband and she had been dismayed by the low prices for their stock. But like all farmers they have a hard won resilience to bad times and with a wan smile she said’ “At least the trees are going to make up for it this year.”

The temperatures have been swinging wildly across the scale for Mr and Mrs Steyer and that is just what is needed to balance out their budget. We go through a lot of it in the Inn’s kitchen, serving it in the traditional way over ham steaks as well as on waffles of all kinds. The guests buy it to take home to their children for breakfasts before school or to remind them of their visit to these mountains. We thought we had tried maple syrup before we arrived here but when we tasted Garrett County maple syrup we were transported to another level of gastronomic delight. It is truly the nectar of the gods and it flows from the depths of the earth where the real secrets of life are never told.

All good inn keepers need a day off.

Today looked like a good one for us to take off for some R & R. The weather was going to be sunny, even though night time temps are still dropping down to 13 degrees F. The sun can not quite vanquish the cold air as it is still pretty low in the sky, but it was a beautiful day nevertheless. We made sandwiches and were just walking out of the door when the laundry man appeared and wanted us to exchange some sets of sheets for a some new style ones for which we had been waiting for several weeks – today of all days. Then you just have to pass the time of day with him, joke around a bit since you see him twice a week and he likes to feel part of the operation. Bye, Bye Mr. Laundryman.

“Okay, now we can go!”

"Is the front door locked? Yes, and all the other doors to the Inn." We both climbed into the truck, Richard studied the map as we were heading up into Pennsylvania to go and look at some Blacksmithing tools he had found for sale on Craigslist.

“Do you have your camera Virginia?”

Virginia clutches her face and leaps out of the truck. “It’ll just take me a minute; give me the keys to the Inn.” “Oh NO! We forgot the keys and we have locked ourselves out of the Inn and the apartment. Great!”

The next ten minutes were spent circling the Inn trying to find something that we had not locked in our zeal to leave it secured. Finally we got inside again.

“Okay, we have got the keys and the camera, now we can go.”

And go we did. The day was gorgeous; the countryside was filled with big red barns, farm houses, highland cattle, rushing streams sparkling in the crisp sunshine and thousands of acres of sleeping winter trees. We found the tool guy and Richard bought two or three. We stopped in a place called Frostburg for coffee and a walked around the town where we found an “artisan store” where we might be able to sell my nifty hats and Richard’s knives, once he makes them that is.

It was a good day not to be working. It is supposed to snow again tonight and for the next few days; winter is not over three thousand feet up in the western mountains of Maryland until May, but who’s complaining when you can have a day off like today and you can share your adventures with the laundry man on Friday.

Vegan Burns Socks at Equinox

There is a solemn ritual that is held very dear by old salts around the Bay of Chesapeake. It is not a ritual for the faint of heart, but since most of those sailors are cut from molds of iron, they have made the ritual a tradition.

At the Spring Equinox (this year last Sunday March 20th) sailors gather round a driftwood fire at a favorite beach to share their stories of winter woes and their hopes for Spring time boat repairs in readiness for a summer of sailing. Since we have our little boat Mandy on the edge of the Chesapeake, we took it upon ourselves to bring this sailor’s tradition to our lake edge B & B. The snow was gone, the fire pit was full of leaves and sticks and we had some pleasant people staying at the Inn who were pretty gung ho for an evening camp fire, despite the March wind whistling through the forest of pines all around us. The first day of Spring? Well maybe.

After plying the guests with plenty of the complimentary red and white wine and some getting to know you conversation, everyone was jolly despite the fire's smoke that insisted of changing direction constantly. One of the guests was a recent convert to a vegan diet and held the stage talking about the wonders it wrought on his general health. He was also, among other things, a sailor and knew the boatyard at Deltaville, VA very well.

Inspired by the company I suddenly remembered the sailor’s Spring Equinox ritual that I read about last summer. At the official arrival of Spring, when the fire is roaring, the maritime set remove their stinky old winter socks and toss them joyfully onto the fire. It is an act of defiance to the Winter. It says, “I’ve had enough and I just won’t take any more of it!” From then on a proper sailor will not wear socks again until the following year, despite all efforts from the weather to dissuade him.

Our Vegan was the first to rip them off and fling them onto the pyre. With an inspired “Whoop!” Richard was next, and then all of a sudden socks were flying in the air and landing solidly in the flames. I moved down wind, since there was no telling how old those stockings might be. One of the guests announced how fun it was to be part of such merriment and asked his wife to remind him to tell the grand-kids.

The wind grew in strength and everyone decided to retreat back into the cozy inn, probably in search of fresh socks. It suddenly occured to me as I watched the dying flames that the monks who built the place for their mountain retreats would have approved of the fun, despite it smacking of paganism, because they were a “discalced” order which means, they wore no shoes or socks, even in the winter.

A Winter's Tale

“Aren’t you scared being in that place all on your own when Richard is away and the inn is empty?” I am asked by concerned friends.

The first time we came to the inn for our interview there was snow falling; the first snow of the season last year. Into my head popped scenes from the movie “The Shining” with Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall who play caretakers at an off season hotel that is shut off from the world by snow. Lots of craziness ensues involving ghosts, knives and murder or should I say “redrum”. There is even a long corridor here that has a runner all the way along it, just like in the movie.

The inn used to be the retreat house for an order of monks from Baltimore but sixteen years ago it was turned into a B & B and the fifty acres surrounding the monastery was sold for the development of lake homes. Monks, monasteries and ghosts all seem to fit together somehow. Near the end of our interview I casually asked the boss if the building was haunted. “Not exactly” was the reply, “But there was once a strange incident in Room 9. A woman staying there alone was booked for three nights at the inn, but after one night she checked out in a flat panic saying that she had had a terrifying experience in the night. She said that she woke up violently - a man was in her room trying to strangle her.” After her departure from the inn there was no recurrence of this event or any subsequent disturbances in Room 9.The were no explanations for what had happened either.

On our arrival to begin working here, the innkeepers apartment was not usable and so orders from above were to take Room 8 or 9 and use it until we could move in to the apartment. I wanted to dispel any loopy ideas in my head that Room 9 was haunted, so there we stayed for our first two weeks. I was not alone but there also did not seem to be any cold drafts or spooky bumps in the night. I felt more easy having stayed in the room right at the beginning and I was sure that one way or another it would make a pretty good story one day.

Living at work is not the same as working from home, I’ve discovered. Its rather like when cell phones came into being, and although the concept was good, it meant that you would never again be able to escape work completely. Even at intimate dinners the cell phone crouches behind the salt and pepper threatening to ring or worse vibrate.

When you live at work, especially in an inn or hotel environment the phone is in constant persuit of your sanity, especially when instructions from above dictate not to allow more than two rings before answering. There is also no escaping the constant round of repairs, maintenence, cooking, cleaning, washing up and resetting the perfect arrival scenery from day to day, week to week etc. etc. Of course you say, that is what you have bought into by taking on the role of an innkeeper. That is true and so we have to redirect our focus to spend time doing something here that is not work related. That way when we greet our guests, thirsty for their special retreat, our smiles genuine from time “away” doing things we find inwardly rewarding.

Richard has begun a new hobby, learning how to be a blacksmith. Our friend and master historical armourer Jeff Hedgecock back in S. CA taught him how to make a craftsman’s knife and it was inspirational. Since arriving here Richard has started searching for all he needs to begin practicing making his own style of craftsman’s knives and recently joined the Appalachian Blacksmiths Association. At the first meeting he realized that he did not fit in next to the mutitude of extreme beards and bellies, but he’s not deterred from his goal. Banging away at hot steelon an anvil helps when a pampered guest leaves without tipping.

Me, I walk among the trees, watch the wildlife, and write my heart out. I have joined an online writer’s group led by a friend we meet sailing and from past experience I know that that interchange truly transports you to other worlds.
I have a notion to start hatmaking, since getting my industrial sewing machine from the boat and I am lucky in that part of my work here at the inn entails the creative art of cooking which has always been a pleasurable and fulfilling, as long as I am not in a crazy restaurant environment.

Perhaps living at work is not the issue, the tough thing is chewing off the time to separate ourselves from work, for it is the creating time that renews and gives us back ourselves.

A Sea of Trees and Glass

Welcome to the new blog.

Some of you will have migrated from www.sailblogs.com/member/mandy where you followed our two and a half year voyage from San Diego, CA through the Panama Canal and up to the East Coast USA where we have left our boat s/v Mandy on the hard in the Chesapeake, and some of you will have discovered this blog through other means.

We began this new venture on January 7th 2011 and we have been working very hard through a long snowy winter to learn all about our Inn and how to run it well. Whereas we had grown accustomed to living on the ocean, now we live in a sea of trees near some of Maryland's most loved state parks. Outside our Innkeepers apartment roam deer and black bear. Chipmunks, squirrels, wild turkey and grouse are also frequent visitors and we have a growing list of birds sighted here. Richard my husband and inn-keeping partner built a bear proof bird feeder outside the inn's kitchen window and it has been attracting chickadees, junco's, tufted titmice, woodpeckers, cardinals and wrens.

Two days ago I was in the kitchen preparing hors d'oeuvres, and I heard a tremendous crash like some one had dropped a huge tray of glasses, then a shrill cry from one of our guests made me run out to investigate. It turned out that a Ruffled Grouse had flown straight through the window near the breakfast room. One man had been busy microwaving a cookie near the window when the incident happened. He stood in his stocking feet with shattered glass over the entire floor, counter top and even on the plate he was holding. I told him not to move as he would get glass in his feet, until I had a chance to go and get him some shoes. The poor grouse was flapping around on top of the neatly laid breakfast tables, trying to work out where it was and how to get back outside. It was stunned from its impact with the glass window pane and along with the glass there were grouse feathers everywhere. What a mess! It was Friday night, right in the middle of the time for new guests checking in for the weekend.

Eventually we caught the poor bird and put her/him outside in the barn with the door ajar so that it could recover its senses under cover. I am still finding feathers and glass in various nooks and crannies. The guest also recovered his senses after a warm cookie and all concerned were none the worse. He took a photo of the bird in Richard's hands before we released it which we hope he will E-mail to us for you to see.What remains to be done is to get the window back from the repair shop and that will happen in due course.

Its going to be a whole new trip, so come along and enjoy the ride with us.