Some day my roof will come

So, here we are, in a "state of expectancy". After the last hailstorm
we contacted a series of roofing contractors finally having decided to
just go ahead and "bite the bullet" (actually, with this structure,
it's more like nibbling a cannonball). It's been 28 years since the
last roof job. It's time. Of course, the place to begin is shopping,
normally one of my favorite things to do. But I quickly discovered
that shopping for shingles is not even close to the fun of shopping
for that perfect little print to accent the favorite corner lamp.
First of all, it isn't enough to find a shingle that you like the
looks of. You have to consider there are 20 year shingles, 40 year
shingles, 50 year shingles and lifetime shingles. This prompts the
question, unless one is demonstrating longevity reminiscent of ancient
biblical characters, how can you justify the extra bucks for the
lifetime shingles over the merely 50 year shingles? Then there are
the 70 MPH shingles versus the 120 MPH shingles. Just when you think
you've got it all figured out you happen on to a "new" salesman who
introduces you to your opportunity to save insurance dollars by
considering yet another classification: the fire rated shingle!
But wait, that shingle is only available in ugly colors. Why? Because
even though there is no difference between the flammability of the
fire rated color and the lovely color you've just spent weeks settling
on, it costs a gazillion dollars to get a shingle fire rated and each
color has to be rated separately.

OK, so all the painful choices have now been made, all the references
have been called, and as I said, we're in a "state of expectancy".
After having had a crane set 12,000 lbs. of plywood, tar paper, etc.,
on our roof, we are waiting for our roofer. We called him when he
didn't arrive on Tuesday morning as scheduled. He finally returned our
repeated calls informing us that he and his crew are burned out. The
heat on the roofs had just gotten to them. He's taking a vacation in
the Carribean (isn't it hot there too?) He'll start our roof in late
August, when they're rested.

How do you thank an angel?

Hope and I have become friends. She drives the handivan. On occasion,
I ride the handivan. We really hit it off, I think partly because we
both had teenaged sons at the same time, who were both being, well,
teenagers. We had empathy for each other and encouraged each other
when we felt like motherhood was the least appreciated career on the
planet.

When I would ride the van home at five o'clock sometimes there would
be another driver. Although I enjoyed the other drivers too, I would
muse to myself that my ride home was "Hope" less.

One day when she took me home she said, "You need more flowers here. I
need to bring you flowers and plant them". Several months went by,
and then there was a call from Hope. She and her husband, Michael,
would be coming out to assess the acreage. After sizing up the
situation, they told me I needed to go to Sam's Club and get a
multilevel cart. They would attach grow lights, plant seedlings, and
see me in the spring.

In February I got my first e-mail from Hope with pictures of the
"babies", a mere portent of things to come. Six weeks and 5 million
waterings later, these babies were now adolescents and the day of
reckoning was approaching. A planting party was scheduled, and the
most amazing culmination of time, effort, and devotion to helping
someone other than oneself came to life! Though the graduations,
weddings, etc. kept the masses of assisting humanity away, Hope and a
small brave band of planting warriors refused to be deterred.
Innkeeper Jim rounded up cordless drills attached to miniature augers
which made it easy to slip the little plants into the soil. Something
resembling a planting brigade was set in motion. Painted daisies,
marigolds, impatience, vinca, Shasta daisies, the list goes on and on.

As difficult as the work was for the volunteer angels, their work
pales compared to the chore facing this innkeeper.....that is, how in
the world can we ever thank them?!

The Innkeepers' Getaway

For years innkeepers touting the merits of "getting away" while
staying where you are have assured us in books and innkeeper advice
columns that staying in one's own bed and breakfast provides bountiful
opportunities to see everything as a guest sees it.

As I considered how to achieve this long postponed goal I talked to my
sister, Joan. She assured me that she had all kinds of new gourmet
ideas and wanted to fix our breakfast. I decided to surprise my
husband, and told him to pack our bags for a one night getaway.

Among the benefits of taking in the experience of "Westview" is
getting to know the character of the rooms in a way one can't know
them when you're preoccupied with readying the inn for the next
guests. It might just help in getting to know the character you're in
partnership with too!

After running some errands I told Jim we needed to stop "at home"
before embarking on our "get away". Entering the Sunset Suite to
"check" on something "I'd forgotten", we turned toward the welcome
board and beheld the words WELCOME JIM AND COLLEEN. The first
surprise was a batch of homemade oatmeal raisin walnut cookies
lovingly prepared and waiting for us as we entered the suite! Jim's
only problem with these cookies is trying to figure out which should
be the main ingredient!

I was amazed at how quickly and easily he accepted the role of guest.
As we cuddled up to watch some TV he retired shortly to the kitchen,
and returned with freshly popped popcorn. About an hour and three
cookies later he raided the freezer in the suite's kitchen and
presented frozen ice cream treats to share!
The evening was a wonderful time to slow down and reflect on things
(including a cobweb we'd been missing!)

Next morning sister Joan presented us with a beautiful gourmet
breakfast which Jim has vowed to incorporate into his guests'
breakfasts. The rest of the morning was soaked up in the Jacuzzi, a
device designed to warp and eventually evaporate time. As reality
started to settle in, I knew the experience had been worthwhile when I
heard him say "When's checkout? Do you think they'd care if we stayed
all day?"