The Innkeeper’s Life

I woke up yesterday eyeing this window, whose inset of tiny panes we took down because it has blobs of interior white paint on the exterior side that should be all green: spillover from an old paint job that was, let us say, less than careful.

To fix this problem a person would have to go assemble sandpaper and a putty knife to remove the blobs of spilled-over paint, and a delicate enough brush, and then start in on the careful ballet of removing and reapplying.

B-u-u-u-u-u-t yesterday we had 13 people staying here so I knew it would be hard breaking away from the fun to get this done.

And so instead I watched:

Our ‘chef-daughter’ Annie as she wrestled with this too-tough pie crust. (I love her expression as she realized she practically needed a hacksaw to do the job…)

Chris as she fried the homemade ‘pommes frites’ Annie had prepared.

And just everybody generally doing what they felt like, which is what you’re supposed to do on a summer weekend.

So, where I could have stood in the hot garage for two hours sanding and painting while the smell of garbage in the garbage bags wafted gently over I figured Why bother, you know?

I can remember how the window Is supposed to look with the grille in, so for now I’ll be satisfied with that.

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