My friend, Tasha, posed the question to her Facebook group, “What did you do for fun as a child?” For whatever reason, her question stayed with me all day. I kept running the question through my head trying to recall childhood memories of myself at play. I’m not sure why the question struck such a chord with me; maybe it’s because of the atrocities taking place in parts of the world – and here in the US.
I think the biggest misconception about B&B’s – for people who have never stayed at a B&B, or for those who are just unaware – is that a B&B is not a hostel. And there are those who do not seem to understand the difference.
One of the best gifts ever given to me by my monkey sister – aside from lifelong unconditional love and friendship – was an invitation to visit their little piece of paradise on the shores of the Sea of Cortez, near el Cardonal, Mexico. Okay, wait, that’s a complete lie. We invited ourselves, they really had very little say in the matter.
A package arrived yesterday. I’ve been eagerly anticipating it’s arrival. Inside there was a book and a pair of socks. It doesn’t take much to make me happy. But this was not just any book, nor just any pair of socks.
With commands such as left forward, right back, forward two and HOLD ON! the adrenaline rush of white water rafting on the Rogue River makes for an awe-inspiring (and ridiculously fun) afternoon on the water.
It’s a rare thing to have the inn to ourselves – very rare – but the other night I took the opportunity to actually sit in the unusually quiet dining room to work on my weekly breakfast menu planning, bacon & eggs and so much more, while Abi watched the world cup soccer game back in our apartment. It’s true. I admit it. I could care less about watching the world cup soccer games. Am I the only one?