12/23/2025
Hi, Everyone. Winter's icy touch has descended upon New England. Tourist season has been over for almost two months now.
I'd say that it is "quiet" or "dead" this time of year. The truth is Anything feels that way in comparison to the Summer.
The population has grown considerably since The Inn at Long Lake and I were together (well over 12 years). The lighted line of traffic snaking from the west to the east can be seen at as early as 4am. I know this because I've cleaned a local business for 5 years now (the account was a great gift to me by my former Cleaning Genies boss, Eileen Ross, and they want me gone by their employee's morning arrival time).
This period of seasonality can be challenging. People are tucked away in their homes and people, whether newly-arrived or a fixture in their Lake Region town, turn inward. The inspection of self cqn look like a Reiki master sitting cross-legged on the floor centering his energy and oneness with the world. It can, also, be like Jack in Stephen King's "The Shining."
Admittedly, I was so zonked at the end of each lodging season. I didn't wait or long for November to come. Innkeeping, like any job, feels (and, is) better while it is moving. You get your stride, but that pace was beautifully severe at the inn. Each year, as business faltered or hung lazily close to the previous year's revenue, I was always pretty proud of myself for doing the best that I could, but as years passed, I found myself more and more tired.
As the dismal financial markers of the 2008 recession affected us more and more, I would try to look at everything objectively and still express my gratitude to my Higher Power. I was getting worn to a nub, slowly with age and familiarity. By December, those feelings hover over you like dense morning fog on the surface of a lake. Of course, I had Sebastian to love and pat all Winter (and I'm so grateful to that angel for his wonderful companionship during my innkeeping experience. "Sebs" was not a "bed dog." He liked being between my sleeping bed and the door... truly, him being protective over me was another reason to tear up, as I am writing this, for the gift he was to me.
Once in a while, I'd trick him to sleep on the bed, which he would oblige begrudgingly on occasion. One of my favorite things was to not rush up to the kitchen to start inn breakfast right when I awoke. The mornings I'd just lay there snd watch Sebastian sleeping, breathing lightly. If I did see his eyes open, look at me, and give his tail a sincere, but slowly-awakened tail wag, I couldn't be more happy.
So, you get my point. A former Innkeeper reminiscing over missing a former pet can really bring you into the path of the next snowplow truck. And, yeah, since he has been gone, life felt like staring out into the January Winter night. Too still. Too far away, and, yet, right down into your heart. Too many reasons to feel all of the fully and, still, there would never be a day to not savor every one of them.
(To be continued...)