Weekend

On June 1st we had to turn the heat on and light the fire, but the very next day a heat wave swooped in!  The newspaper showed kids jumping into the ocean and called the heat "scorching," which is pretty laughable, but it made the long weekend feel like a true holiday!  Irish from Cork City drove down to their holiday homes; we had Brits, Californians, and Swedes staying in the rooms...For three days, I didn't go farther than the front yard, but made countless trips from lawn to kitchen to dining room to wine rack to kitchen and back.

The large gravel patio in front of the house is set back from the road and affords the best view in town (left). After the guests had eaten all of their breakfast sausages and toast, we started getting mid-morning coffee-drinkers. Then lunch outside on the tables or afternoon wine in the Adirondack chairs. One day I was doing so much back-and-forth outside that I had to put sunscreen on my face (story of my life)...

The restaurant was fully booked both Saturday and Sunday night, so amidst serving afternoon tea and answering the phone and endlessly loading the dishwasher and washing machine, we'd prep for dinner ("we" being myself, Katarina cook and owner, and an Australian WWOOFer helping behind the scenes).

Then there was a moment of calm.  Before the evening commenced, we could sit for a few minutes in the dining room, admiring the set table and the lit candles and listening to Rod Stewart... 

Almost everyone who stays or dines here is positively lovely.  I usually have little chats with them. Very nice people.  Then again, being on holiday and getting waited upon in a nice place, why shouldn't they be pleasant?

One couple was from France and I got to serve them in French!  Wonderful!  They were visiting a good friend of the House and came two days in a row.  French men, they're so charming when they're married; after some French banter he tipped me and gave me a kiss. They invited me to come stay with them in Normandy. It's legit.... I tell you, I have more open doors than I have time for... 

Dinner: sixty odd courses and a dozen empty bottles later, we'd have some red wine of our own in the kitchen and wait for the last tables to leave.  I can't blame them for wanting to loiter in there-- it's downright classy.  But we eventually see them off with a smile, run a last load in the dishwasher, prep for breakfast and then go straight to bed.  It's a healthy existence, all this work, and it was quite fun.  Good mental exercise-- waitressing.  People are back to work, though; the weekend's gone and so is the warm weather.  All for the best: I now have time to write this and I get to wear a new cashmere sweater I bought at the charity shop for three euro. Score.  If no one comes for dinner tonight, maybe we'll get to light the fire and relax ourselves!