Pool Progress:
(We found the pool heater! Looks like R2D2.):
Many, many thanks to everyone who helped us muck, haul, and scrub – and to Andre Patenaude especially.
If you’d like to help those in Woodstock still in need of basic necessities (food, shelter, medicine), Sustainable Woodstock is an excellent place to contribute.
As you probably know by now, the creek did rise.
And it kept rising.
And rising.
The water never reached the inn – even our basement stayed completely dry – so we were incredibly lucky. We know many who have lost everything.
We were left with a muddy mess.
And mother nature had rearranged things.
She is not, apparently, an enthusiast of recreational swimming or tennis.
But she did leave us with an amazing view of the covered bridge, which survived the pummeling with remarkable poise. Our river bank now feels kind of beachy. Bring on the tiki torches and make me something with rum!
We’ve had wonderful, wonderful friends and volunteers pitching in with cleanup.
And we’re making great progress.
In the village, people have come together to speed the recovery effort. It is an honor to be part of such a resilient, compassionate community. Woodstock, Vermont, is the best place to live.
The farmers who could make it even showed up for Wednesday’s market, and the days have been the most beautiful of the summer.
We’ve been so grateful to all of you for your calls, emails, and tweets of support; thank you, thank you, thank you. We’ll be open again next week (though the pool and tennis court will take a bit longer) and hope to see you here soon. All this rain should make for a spectacular autumn.
If you would like to help Vermonters who have been affected by Irene, several sites are accepting donations.
As my old advisor Anne E. Monius would say, “Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.”
So true, Anne. So true.
For regular updates on Irene and the Blue Horse Inn in general, follow me on twitter: @thebluehorseinn
July was a busy month at the Blue Horse Inn. The month began with a wonderful wedding – the bride was the granddaughter of Eleanor Paine and grew up in this house, back when it was known as 3 Church St. The event was lovely.
As was the bride.
She took the plunge quite literally.
After the wedding, we rested.
And ate strawberries.
And lots of watermelon.
We hosted a benefit dinner for Venerable Somnieng’s Life and Hope Association. The evening raised more than enough to support seven children at the Children’s Development Village for the next year.
Then things got warm. Hot, even.
So we picked raspberries.
And made ricotta and raspberry scones.
And when it cooled down, we hiked Mt. Tom.
Peter Rowan played a set in our dining room.
And another in the parlor.
Last weekend, we prepared for the final wedding of the summer.
And managed to spend a little time by the pool in the process…
Another week, another chance to enjoy Pierre’s gardens.
The delphinium and astilbe are in full bloom, and the lilies are soon to follow.
After next week, the inevitable begins.
Everything will start to fade and brown, and summer will laze into fall. July 4th is always the day I realize how quickly the season has come and started to go; I’ve been so busy getting ready for it that it managed to sneak up on me.
I haven’t started my summer to-do list yet – no lobster, no window-boxes, no fetching new sandals. Still, there’s a bit of time before I have to unpack the sweaters that I just got back from the dry cleaner. A few more weeks to enjoy the ebullience of Pierre’s gardens.
The fall will bring a different sort of beauty, I know, but I can’t help but feel a little slighted by the extravagant, evanescent loveliness of summer.
I miss it while it’s still here, and its presence somehow sharpens its impending absence.
It seems silly to have such a maudlin and morose tinge to the pleasure I take in Pierre’s gardens, but that’s part of what makes them so beautiful. I hope you’re all luxuriating in your summers – reading fluffy books, walking on sand, eating good peaches. As for me, I think I’m off to find some lobster.
6:45am
Find Snorri on Monkey’s bed and Monkey under the covers.
6:47am
Water all the newly planted things in front of the inn. Feel proud of self.
6:55am
Admire Benford’s handiwork. (He just, like, decided to lay a brick walkway last night, and viola! If he’s not careful, we’re going to start requiring this level of do-it-iveness all the time.)
7:02am
Make very stout french press; steep while checking on the pool and back yard.
7:07am
Water all the newly planted things behind the inn. Feel proud of self.
7:10am
Notice that rose is thriving in spite of (or perhaps because of!) violent trimming. Brim with horticultural confidence.
7:12am
Cut fresh peonies for the tables.
(ACP, my friends. Always Check the Peonies.)
(If I were a bug, I’d definitely want to live in a peony.)
7:20 am
Pour cup of coffee strong enough to start a car. Enjoy for 1 minute.
7:22am
Arrange peonies, remembering to ACP.
7:27am
Enjoy breakfast.
7:30am
Prepare breakfast for guests. Mix dry ingredients for scones and pancakes simultaneously. Do not confuse teaspoons with tablespoons. Use LOTS of butter in scones.
8:25am
Slowly scramble eggs with your left hand; flip pancakes with your right. Hold the camera with your chin.
9:40am
Serve final table of guests.
10:15am
Dash to physical therapy, smelling of maple syrup and sausage. Be glad that your wonderful physical therapist, Rebecca, doesn’t mind breakfasty aromas. Enjoy outdoor stationary bicycling. Appreciate glorious first day of summer.
11:30am
Admire village. Take photos while driving. Feel kindly toward fellow humans.
12:59pm
Blog in good company.
