The life of an Arkansas Innkeeper

At the end of the novel, “The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe,” the author states that if anyone ever figures out what life is all about it will instantly change into something even more bizarre.  I am pretty sure my life proves that theory.  And I sure wish you deep thinkers out there would knock it off!

Some of it may have to do with the place I live.  It's a place that lets school out for a week every November so the kids can go hunting, (some for deer & turkey, and some for road signs & mailboxes.)  A place where the churches put out signs that say “Camouflage Welcome.”   A place where a store sells only fishing bait and donuts (and good ones at that.)  A place where you can reserve tanning bed time , then rent some movies on your way out.  A place where you can rent a tuxedo and a ditch-witch at the same store. A place where, when you forget your purse at the gas station or hamburger stand, they tell you to just bring the money by the next time you are there.  A far cry from life in the big city I had escaped.

It is no wonder I take folks out into the yard to go Toad Scratchin’.

Well, it didn't really start out that way.

Some time back I noticed a toad that came out of his hole to watch me

when I was working close by.  Maybe he is the Neighborhood Watch

Captain, who knows.  After spotting him a couple of times, I decided to

“remodel” his place by adding a slate roof and patio. A few months

later, one of the guests noticed this and asked me about it in front of

some other folks.  When I explained what it was, they all wanted to go

take a look at it. It had started to mist outside so we all grabbed

umbrellas and headed down the hill to Mr. Toad's house.  When he didn't

make an appearance right away, I explained that my leaf raking was what

probably got him curious in the past so maybe we should scratch around

some with our feet to make a similar noise.

So here we stood, a half dozen of us, in the rain, holding umbrellas, looking down at the ground and pawing around with our feet.  And no toad in sight.   Finally, one of the guys looked at me with a wry expression and stated more than asked, “There really isn't a toad, is there.”

There is a town close by named Toad Suck and they have a weekend event

every year called “Toad Suck Daze.” I wonder if we could have a Toad

Scratch Festival?

You also learn a lot of weird stuff being an innkeeper.  I've new insights into everything from embalming to carp fishing. I can now identify Huckleberry bushes and Pygmy Rattlesnakes from ten paces. I know that a glass eye isn't round from seeing one up close and out of the socket. I have recently learned that if you shove some white bread into a copper pipe, it will keep the water from running out while you “sweat it” ,  but then it will  wash out when you are done.  Also, talcum powder in conduit will make feeding the wires through easier.  I know it takes a dead mouse about two days to start smelling inside the house but have yet to ascertain how long it takes a lizard in the duct work.  I just know it takes weeks for it to go away.

I have quit making notes of all the small world stories.  They happen all the time now and I have come to expect them. Everybody knows everybody.  They just don't know it yet!

And people can still surprise me.  One of the dogs was sleeping on the front porch when this elderly, very prim and proper woman was coming up the walk.  Everything about her said she was a quiet and dignified “lady.”  When she got to the top steps, the dog rolled over and stuck all four legs in the air, ready for a good belly rub.  The woman laughed, scratched the dog's stomach and muttered, “Well, aren't you just a little slut puppy!”

I was also tickled by the story about the old man across the road that

was fed up with coyotes getting into his stuff.  He set a trap and finally caught it.  He went down with his rifle to shoot it.  But when he approached the cage,  the coyote rolled over on his back and looked pitiful, so the man let him go.

Maybe showing your belly can bring out the true nature in people.

I am pretty sure I have finally found a life that suits me.  It is just

predictable enough for my Virgo nature to find a comfortable groove and

just weird enough to keep me on my toes.  I have learned to live in the

moment... mainly because there is seldom time to think about tomorrow or yesterday. And, if I keep reminding people how “Zen” I have become, maybe they won't notice that I have actually slipped into senility.

Almond Joy Cookies

 This is just one of many recipes you can create with a box of brownie mix.

Recipe:

1 box brownie mix (app 4 cups)
1/2 cup vegetable oil
2 eggs
1 Tbsp water
1 cup coconut
1/2 cup slivered almonds

In a large measuring cup whip together eggs, oil and water.  Pour into bowl with brownie mix and stir until all is moist.  Add coconut and almonds and set in fridge for 30 minutes.  Scoop out with mini ice cream scoop (or spoons) onto cookie sheet.  Cook at 350 for 11 minutes.

Notes:
I sometimes add a few drops of coconut extract to the dry coconut. (I stir them together in a small bowl that I set aside for a few hours before making the cookies.)

Also, I toast the almonds.  Some people like to do this on the stove top in a skillet, but I just put them in the microwave in a shallow glass bowl and heat on high for 60 seconds


This basic recipe (brownie mix, oil, eggs & water) is the perfect start for all kinds of fun combinations.  I will share more of mine in the future but until then, have fun experimenting!

World's Best Egg Salad

I've been eating egg salad since I was a kid and love it.  On occasion, I would order it at a deli or try some at a reunion spread and was always disappointed.  How can you make egg salad without BACON?  If you have never (I'm so sorry) had egg salad without bacon, make up some of this right away and have it on toasted wheat bread.  You can thank me later!

But first we need to boil some eggs.  I have long gone by the 15 minute rule but found a site on Pinterest that had even better hints.  I tried it and it worked great:

         ~ Place eggs in heavy saucepan and cover with cold water.

         ~ Bring to a roiling boil.

         ~ Cover, turn off heat and set timer for 15 minutes.

         ~ Pour off hot water and cover in ice water (I put in sink and cover with ice and add water).  If all the ice melts, add more) for 15 minutes.

         ~ Put eggs back in heavy pan, cover and SHAKE. Keep shaking...side to side and up and down.

         ~ The eggs should now be cover in lots of tiny cracks and the shells with come right off!

Recipe:

1 dozen boiled eggs, peeled & diced

8 slices of bacon, cooked crisp & crumbled (don't even think of using bacon bits!)

2/3 cup celery, finely diced (about 2 med sticks)

1 Tbls Wickles pickle relish (or sweet relish)

1 cup mayo

1Tbls cider vinegar

1 pkt sweetener (or 2 tsp sugar)

1 tsp mustard

salt & pepper to taste

In a large bowl, mix together the eggs and first three ingredients. Combine the mayo and last ingredients for the dressing and mix in with the salad.  Chill for at least four hours (overnight even better) and serve on toasted bread or with crackers on a bed of lettuce.

Protecting and Storing Recipe Cards

You will notice the stains and tears on old envelopes...time to make new ones!

It seems like it is impossible to keep cookbooks from getting stained when used often.  Add to that our problem of needing to adapt recipes for 2 to 16 people and you quickly discover a system to help you manage the kitchen chaos.

First, Mike went through and made tables for all the recipes we use often and broke then down into increments.  If it could be made individually, it made a table for 2,4,6, etc.  If it was a casserole, the table was for 4,8,12,16 (sizes for different combos of baking dishes).  This make it SOOO easy when you are cooking breakfast and haven't had all the coffee you really needed!

Next, I laminated them all with our handy-dandy laminating machine (one of the best investments I made for this place.) Or, you could take your cards to a local quick print shop. Most offer laminating service.

At first, this was enough.  But, as the piles of cards grew, it became necessary to corral them somehow. After looking around the office for ideas, the 9x12 inch mailing envelopes made themselves known.  Perfect size since we had printed recipes on half pages of card stock (4 1/4" X 5 1/2")

 

Cut off the bottom 6" of the envelope.

Reinforce the top with a strip of clear packing tape.  I just wrap the extra around to the back but you could seal both sides if you like.

 

Cut out a tab across the front, staying inside of the area that is taped.

 

Label the pockets and file in a handy drawer.

We have separate envelopes for "First Course," "Second Course," "Snacks,"  "Breads," and "Misc."

Displaying Antique Buttons

I love garage and estate sales.  About half of the inn was furnished from my finds over a five year period when we were working towards opening this place.  The buttons above were mixed in with a big bag of "sewing bits and pieces" I picked up in a beautiful old home close to University Park in Dallas.  When I got the bag home and discovered them in the bottom, I was in love.  They probably aren't worth much to a collector as there are tears and stains on the cards, but I like the vintage feel of the art work.

The buttons sat around in a box of fun things I might use if I could ever think of a way when a Martha Stewart catalogue (circa 1998) showed up with a product I had used as a child in my butterfly collecting days that I had completely forgotten about - bug specimen boxes.  Perfect!

They are cardboard frames wrapped in white paper with a protective glass cover.  There are two pins pushed through the sides to hold them together and the glass presses gently against the cotton pad on the inside to hold the specimen in place.  In this case, my specimen was a button card. Just center the card on the cotton, close up the box and hang (they come with little metal hooks.)

These boxes would be ideal for any light weight objects that wouldn't slide to the bottom.  Also the paper covering could be painted and the cotton inside could be covered with fabric.  They are a quick and inexpensive alternative to picture frames.

Growing House Plants in Water

I enjoy having live plants in my rooms.  They bring an energy to space (along with fresh air) and guests appreciate them. Having containers around with plants in water was more a necessity than a choice.  I have difficulty pruning off bits and discarding them, instead choosing to put them in a glass of water in the kitchen window.  Over time I have become an expert in what will root and thrive. (The pitcher on the left is full of prunings from the potted plant on the right.)

Twice a year, Mike brings all the house plants to the kitchen for me to fuss over.  The plants in pots will be examined and those with long shoots or runners will get pruned and new soil added to the pot. If they have grown quite large, they will be divided into two pots.  Some that have been in water will get potted (begonias get rotated every six months).  And some in water (ivy and other runners) will get roots trimmed back and fresh water.

Every fall, I trim back the begonias and have big vases of Angel Wings all over the house.

You will want to pinch off the bottom leaves as they turn yellow but they will thrive through the winter and be ready for potting outdoors in the spring.  When planting, prune off much of the bottom of the stem, leaving at least one node with roots,  otherwise the stem will stick out to far.  You want to plant them (several to a pot) so the the bottom leaf is only inches out of the soil.

Most of the ivy and other trailing plants just get clipped back each time,  I keep adding the pieces to existing jars until they get too full and then start another. They seem to do the best in low light so are perfect for nooks and crannies that are not close to windows.  When the house is empty for several days they all get moved to windows for a bit of sunlight.

Above is the re-potted Angle Wing Begonia and a vase with all the new ivy clippings.

Below is a stand on the back porch with all the newly potted babies.  Some will move inside when they grow up.

I have several plants that grow up on thick stems, loosing leaves on the bottom and producing a scraggly looking plant.  Almost all of those can be cut to the ground, put in water and new sprouts will emerge from the roots, producing a much fuller and happy looking specimen.

 As far as maintenance goes, I rarely need to change out water except those two times a year.  I do add a little mild fertilizer water now and then, and I pinch off any yellowing leaves.  Some water plants seem to thrive forever and others will let you know they are ready for soil (all the new growth will be smaller and sad looking)

My best advice: pick a sunny window, preferably one you look out of regularly (kitchen sink) and line up your clear jars of water to experiment.  You can watch to see which cuttings develop roots, how quickly and how well.  Some never will and just need to be composted when pruning. Some things (parsley and other garnishes we use) won't root but will stay fresh long enough to use over several weeks.

And THANKS to Elsie for suggesting this weeks blog topic.  I would have never thought of it on my own.

Mike & Rhonda Take a Vacation

Guests are always asking us what we do for vacations.  The truth is, we don't go on too many trips any more, partly because this life ties us down some, and partly because we used to travel a lot before and now are ready for "home" time.

And maybe we became innkeepers in order to tie ourselves down as we have a reputation when it comes to traveling. No one was ever anxious to go with us.

There were sailboat trips with freak storms and multiple mechanical failures ("Mike, is water suppose to be coming up through the floor?") There were camping trips to Padre Island with second degree sunburns, food poisoning and getting trapped inside a very expensive borrowed tent. (It was dark and the zipper was jammed).  We have sat on hilltops while flood waters raged around us. And we have searched for food and lodging during all the wrong times. We didn't know it was the tri-state horse show, or the big college event, or Columbus Day (which is a big deal up in New England).

We also had a reputation for getting lost.  Pictures in our photo albums say "somewhere in Maine as we were lost at the time."  We would leave Dallas and end up in Houston when headed for Austin.  Or, we left Colorado headed for the National Grasslands in the panhandles of Oklahoma and Texas and ended up in (this is so embarrassing) KANSAS.

The following is a story I wrote after flying to Colorado to attend our son's graduation from college at Western State in Gunnison in May of 1999.   (Flying would usually at least insure we got to where we were trying to go!) We tacked on a few nights to stay in a luxury suite at a resort in Crested Butte. 

Enjoy!

Not only does one have to be careful of what one wishes for...but one must also set a timetable!!

I got my Christmas snow for Mother's Day.

And, of course, I had no warm clothes.  In my usual fashion of striving against stereotype, (women who pack too many bags), I went away for four days in the Rockies with only one very small suitcase.  I had 3 summer dresses, 1 pair of sandals, 2 pair of socks, (my one concession to the possibility that the weather would be anything other that what I deemed

it should be), and an all weather windbreaker-kind-of-jacket that I always have to take to appease Mike lest we get stranded somewhere.

We get to the hotel and there is snow everywhere. What was truly bizarre was that Cory's graduation, 20 miles down the road, was perfect; green grass on the field, sunny blue skies, mild breeze and temps in the 70's.

Now, when I say DOWN the road, that is exactly what I mean...down. Like, 1,200 feet down.  And for the record I don't do altitude well.

Crested Butte is a charming little place but as different from Jessiville, Arkansas as one can get.  Here you have lots of grey hair, plaid golf pants, Lincoln Towne Cars, AARP memberships and funny hats.   Crested Butte is the natural habitat of Jeeps, LL Bean clothing and all things healthy.  All vehicles have some manner of rack on top for skis, kayaks, bikes, you name it, and they are as mandatory there as a bottle of Ben Gay on the night stand is here!

But, their hats are funnier!

Plus, they are ALL in REALLY GOOD SHAPE!  I was the only fat person in at least two counties.

I think I am going to quit trying to plan my vacations and see if serendipity works better.  I mean, I made all these plans MONTHS in advance so all would be just right.  You know what is coming - another one of Mike and Rhonda's Vacation Disaster stories.

First, we check into our suite that is to overlook the mountain and it is looking into the courtyard and 100 other balconies.  I call them up and in a voice somewhere between irate and pitiful, and explain they have ruined my life.  They find two other rooms I can look at and one is perfect with a wonderful view and we take it.

We check into our perfect room.  The phone doesn't work so I go downstairs.  "Oh, I'm so glad you came down. I just realized why we didn't give you that room to begin with. That whole wing is being worked on starting Monday at 8 am and the plumbers will be turning the water off."

I assure them that we will be leaving early on Monday and want to keep the room (and its beautiful view).  They agree to let us stay there and turn on our phone.

I should stop here and explain that Crested Butte is a ski town.  We were there on the "Off Season."  Remember that term.

The whirlpool tub is calling to me.  I go in to run water and find that it takes about 15 minutes to get hot water to come on (which could explain the plumbers).

By now, the 9,000 + foot altitude is starting to do it's damage on me. I have enough oxygen to do only one of the following at any given time: walk, talk, digest food or breathe.  Doing any one of the first three was followed by two hours of lying down trying to do the later.  All moisture was completely sucked out of my body. My mucous membranes became non-existent.  I plugged in the two humidifiers supplied by the hotel on either side of the bed, slathered up and down with lots of lotion and tried to survive.

These two days were for us. We would enjoy the roaring fire, the magnificent view and each other. We would call for room service whenever we wanted food.  It was with great disappointment, when we did call, to discover they didn't have enough staff during "off-season" to deliver food.  I was ready to leave that instant...and would have had I not been sprawled on the bed "breathing" for the next go round of walking to the bathroom.

The pizza delivery place told us the same thing. So sorry but no delivery during off-season.

Mike then calls downstairs to at least get a to-go order for the room and stumbles across some sweet young man named Brian who made our weekend by assuring us that we could, after all, have food brought up.

The next morning (Sunday) is all ours.  We are not leaving the room.  I wake up early and watch the sun coming up over the mountains...a truly glorious experience, as many of you know, as the sun brings different snow covered peaks into brilliant focus as the morning progresses.  I had tip-toed out to the living room (leaving Mike to his much deserved slumber), started the logs burning in the fireplace, and had a cup of coffee along with my book, a blanket and a pillow all ready on the couch.  I decided the only thing interfering with the perfection of the morning was the tray of dirty dishes sitting there from the night before.  I looked a fright...hair standing up on end and my comfy nightgown (you know the one, we all have them...holes, stains, misshapen but they fit so perfectly and feel so good), and bare feet. But I decide to risk the 15 seconds of exposure in the hallway to set the tray outside the door. I carry the tray out and leave my foot in the jam...or, at least, I thought I did...until I heard that almost prison-like clank of metal on metal that takes my brain only milliseconds to translate into "Oh, s**t!"

Here I am on the outside of a locked door.  Mike is two rooms away behind two closed doors.

I know my knocking will be heard by the couple whose door is immediately next to ours way before Mike wakes up. And I have already encountered them once...beautiful ski-bunny and hunk. Well, if I wake them up, I can at least get them to call next door and wake Mike up. They weren't that impressed with me the first go-round so who cares how I look!   I knock louder. Then began pounding. Neither of the doors is opening.

How bad do I look if I have to go down to the lobby and borrow a phone? At least I'm not naked.

About that time I hear a faint "Rhonda?" coming from the other side of the door.  My soft answer opens the door to a completely confused Mike.  And I so wanted to let him sleep late!

The rest of the day went well.  We sat and talked for hours (something we haven't really had a chance to do in ages,) we read books, we called for food and we listened to the snow melt.  Snow of that volume makes an incredible amount of noise...amazing.  And we watched the reverse of the sun's play on the mountains as it set that evening.

Monday morning I woke up early (to get done with all "water" activities before the plumbers turned it off) and looked out the window.  I turned to Mike and said "Honey, it looks like we are fogged in." Then I realized this fog had lumps! We were in the middle of a blizzard! In the middle of May!!  We managed to get off the mountain without a problem.  It wasn't until we got to Monarch Pass that it got scary.  They had ice on the roads there. And even though the road had been sanded, you would look down those steep, deep, drop-offs and just pray.

We made it home OK and have only taken one "real" vacation since then.  It was to the Pacific Northwest. That was the time my back went out due to the long plane trip and not being able to move around too much. So I spent our vacation in a wheel chair being pushed through museums of stuff Mike wanted to see. (He was in heaven and I was drugged and couldn't escape.)  But that's another story.

Sometimes it is just as easy to stay home.

Bring pictures from your fun vacations so we can live vicariously. I think that is the way to go!