As The Inn Turns – Episode 3

Yesterday I started a new young woman as our second housekeeper. I am clinging on to my one remaining lady who is worth her weight in gold, but whose mother is ailing and she cannot do all the hours required as the summer gets busier.

The ‘new one’ arrived on time, she is baby faced and doe eyed. Wears pastels and seems naive for her 24 years. My golden housekeeper and me trained new one for two hours, showed her where everything was and how to do her job in the most efficient way. At the end she sheepishly announced that she had never learned how to iron, so she got a quick lesson in that too. I sent her home with napkins to practice her folding on and sheets of paper with the lists of her duties to read over for homework.

In the afternoon, we received an E-mail from on high alerting us to the fact that new one had actually worked at this inn for two months in the summer of 2007 and had herself an impressive criminal record that included burglary and assault – a little charmer!

I was able to challenge her con act with me because she called us not long after wards to ask me to sign some day-care form for her mini con-baby, whose daycare would be covered by social services if mommy-con had a job. She was pissed in a major way that her ruse had been discovered and proceeded to shriek obscenities and threats down the phone. Richard intervened and dispatched her ass.

Well I guess I won’t get the practice napkins back, but at least she won’t have the chance to get her feelers on our operation. I am getting paranoid however and much to Richard’s annoyance, I am hiding things and locking everything up wherever I go.

Now we have access to a great website where you can look up a person’s criminal record if they have one. You can bet that I will not be training anyone else without first checking up on them there.

Meanwhile on a sweeter note. The Spring up here in the mountains and the forests is spectacular. The rivers and waterfalls are in flood, the trees are budding out and blossoming and we have been treated to some incredible close encounters with wildlife (excluding housekeepers that is) such as juvenile owls, bears, wood chucks, and deer. We have been planting flowers all around the inn and getting out the adirondack chairs and cafe tables on the generously sized decks that overlook a sylvan paradise.

Back to the classifieds “help wanted” next week. In my desperation I stopped by the local Mexican restaurant to plead with the owner to send any of her friends or relatives my way. What I wouldn’t do for a wonderful Hispanic lady right now.Until then I guess me and Goldy will keep it together,

and Richard is my knight in shining armor.

Once Bitten...

Last week I thought that I had settled on a person to be our new housekeeper. She is an older lady but seemed very fit and active, a sporty looking pixie style haircut made her look neat and together. She lives near the inn and has her own car. She has no problem with being called in to work on a moments notice and wanted the work because she was bored at home. I was happy to have found her and she comes with good long term references from other housekeeping work in the area.

I called to arrange for her to come for her first day of training here and as we talked I heard a note of reserved hesitation in her voice. Then out it came. She had just broken her left arm in two places and was in a cast for several weeks. She asked to be allowed to start work despite her injury, but after some consideration I had to tell her that I could not hire her as the job does involve carrying vacuum cleaners and heavy breakfast trays and moving some furniture around to clean. I did not want her healing process to suffer because of the work. So I was back to square one with another week of advertising.

The search for good help is not easy, especially in the mountains of western Maryland. When you find a diamond amongst the lumps of coal you had better look after it well. We need to find a housekeeper who produces sparkling results despite those who leave their rooms looking like a tornado has hit it.

My cousin Susan told me to watch the new episodes of “Upstairs Downstairs” in which the new upstairs inhabitants of the house at 165 Eaton Place are hiring a whole household of servants including a housekeeper. I felt very glad not to be in that position. Finding one person is quite enough hand wringing for me.

Out With The Old

Arriving to work in a new job is always stressful and full of possible pitfalls. One is both learning the job as well as assessing the people already in place. Some of these are long standing employees who, despite their actual position in the establishment, feel a sense of power over the newbie because of the length of their tenure.

We have done an awful lot of cleaning house in the most literal sense since we arrived to start being inn keepers, now that we have the heavy work done, it is the normal upkeep and maintenance of the place, which is very manageable. I was assured by the boss that the two housekeepers who cleaned the guest rooms in the inn were very good at their jobs and I looked forward to developing a good working relationship with them as it was sure to make my life much easier if we all understood and respected each other.

Both of those women are now gone. One left to pursue a career in the medical field for which she had been taking online classes. The other one was too keen on telling me when she couldn’t work due to a stunning array of life problems. Yesterday we discovered that on the days that she did manage to come in she was making off with our tips as well as hers.

Our boss was correct in what she had told us about these two, they did the work well and the rooms were adequately cleaned and looked presentable, but as always there is more to the cake than taking it out of the oven.

Being born a Libra makes it doubly hard for me when everything goes out of balance and there is discord in my life. I hate losing my temper, but when pushed I do it spectacularly.

The inn is feeling much cleaner today. I have hired one new housekeeper who does sterling work and we have the good relationship I had imagined previously. Boss says I can look for another one in May since we get very busy then and through the early fall. The good thing is that whoever I choose, I will be the established employer and not the new kid on the block with everything to learn and discover.

All breakfast tables are not created equal.

It might look like all the other tables, two chairs are neatly tucked under it just like the other fourteen in the room, therefore we assume that it is the location of this favorite table that must be the draw to whoever comes up for breakfast first in the mornings.

Human behavior is all about comfort levels and security, or lack of it. As new inn keepers we have been on a crash course in people’s body language; fascinating and deeply meaningful once you begin to study it. Our guests at the inn are mostly couples taking “getaway” breaks together, some are celebrating special milestones and some are just needing time alone together, away from the pressures of their regular lives. Depending on the personalities of the two people this translates into different behavior.

Some couples want to be madly social with the rest of the guests and some rush to their room with supplies and are hardly seen again until check out time.

The pattern in the breakfast room is undeniably consistent however. This is the favored table. Even if it has been used and not reset and there are other tables fresh and ready for sitting at, people love this one place in the room.

I have looked at it from an objective stance. It is near the window and enjoyable for its views of the grounds and possible deer and wild turkey sightings. It is in view of the wood fire, but not too close for comfort, but what is the clincher I believe is the fact that from this table the guests can see who is approaching from the other rooms in the inn. I think it is an ancient instinct that moves their choice. That of observing the advance of intruders into the space in which they are feeding.

For all our technological advances we have not evolved very far from our early ancestors who sat at the mouth of the cave guarding the fire with a bone clutched in their fist.

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.