It's busy out here in my little corner of the Edge of the Atlantic. Tourism season chugs along. I run out of Nice after a few days of it. Hospitality means I have to share my home with strangers. And ensure the rooms look decent and breakfast is palatable and I'm interesting. My reviews are such that I think my PGs walk through my door expecting a performance. OK. I'll give you an example:
We had a most wonderful night with WWW. We talked and laughed like old friends. She gave us a great dinner recommendation and we had a wonderful sleep. Breakfast was lovely with homemade yogurt and partridgeberry jam as well as eggs ham oatmeal and toast and more great conversation. We really wished we had longer to stay and know we will be back next time we are on the island. WWW is the most wonderful Airbnb host we have met.
WWW made us feel right at home and this was my favorite place to stay in Newfoundland. It was like stepping back in time but with a host who was a literary genius. WWW knows so much about the area and Newfoundland that it was a real education. It was also the best breakfast of our entire trip. I would love to stay there again.
And many in this vein. Which is wonderful for business but if you're like me, a gregarious loner, it can be a little wearying. Reading the reviews I fall in love with myself a bit and want to visit me but then I gladly welcome back my inner Cranky Crone and joked around with Daughter the other day asking her should I present CC to the guests, a la The Soup Nazi and bark orders at them to go to their rooms and not disturb me and if they don't wash the dishes tonight they won't get any breakfast in the morning, and only use one tiny towel as the others are just for show, and if they want sheets it'll be $100 extra, etc.
All in good fun and a stress buster. My guests are quite lovely. I just hosted an opera singer and his dancer girlfriend who were cycling around the Avalon. He and I bonded over Gilbert & Sullivan, he is set to play the lead in the Pirates of Penzance in January in Toronto.
And then there was the doctor and her wife who were so incredibly well-travelled and interesting and invited me to stay in Vancouver with them anytime I wanted.
And the French couple who were working in Guadaloupe who were on their way to St. Pierre and Miguelon to visit friends. There are many such French outposts on our globe.
Then there was elder-biker, a seasoned road warrior, and I can't forget the Quebec father and daughter couple and.......
And yeah, I get paid for this.
Which is the icing on le gateau.
As you can see, the francais is rubbing off on me.
Time for the Cranky Crone to emerge.