Saturday, June 21, 2008


Yesterday Dan suggested, as we sat together after dinner, that what I really needed to do was have my own bed and breakfast place. "You'd be perfect at it!" he announced. No, I wouldn't. All I could think of was that it would take all the fun out of taking care of my guests, to be paid for it. Wouldn't it?

But somehow the thought persisted throughout the night, and I didn't get quite my usual six hours of sleep. I had visions of wonderful people coming, one group at a time, being really friendly, and enjoying good food and conversation, guitar music and the fire pit, lighting a celebratory sparkler — all things we did last night — and us getting paid for it.

Somehow the vision just didn't quite gel for me. What if the people who come weren't all wonderful people? What if they're fighting with each other, sniping and angry? What if someone got hurt? What happens if they don't like home cooking? I'm a good cook, but certainly no gourmet chef.

I think, like most ideas, Dan had the spark of something that could be good. What he missed, though, is my basic love of my friends. He saw the hospitality, but I think he missed the reason for it. It isn't because I'm a great hostess. It's because we have great friends. They fit into our lives easily. What's on the menu? That's easy. It's whatever John and I decide we're hungry for ourselves. If we eat outside, it's because it's beautiful there. And driving to Rocky Mountain National Park, or the Benson Statue Park in town, seeing the sights and all that? It's our neighborhood. We see it together and love to share it with friends.

So I don't guess I need a new career in the hospitality industry. WeI'll just enjoy our life in the foothills, and keep the welcome mat out for kin and kind. Every guest we've had has blessed us.

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