So, spring is definitely springing here in Shoreham, despite a brief episode of snow on April 28. We got a few inches, which is nothing compared to the 22 inches they got in other parts of the state…. Anyway, now back to regularly scheduled spring, which, in this particular Inn’s business, means chores. And more chores. Our busy season for rooms begins in about mid-May, so April and May are a whirlwind of every imaginable planned and unplanned chore. We’re getting the garden organized (for the first time using some outside help, and it makes me so happy I could weep), windows are being cleaned, last coats of paint are being put on the trim in the Bird Room, we have to figure out what to do about the woodpecker hole in the new Barn, the photographer has been to take photos of the new Barn Suites, the swan-neck lights can go back up to light up The Shoreham Inn sign now that we ‘really’ should be out of danger of snow sliding off the roof and breaking them. I’ll stop, this list doesn’t make very interesting reading.

Before I go, I feel I must pause and offer some sympathy to my husband, who, despite loving just about everything about making the move from the UK to America, did make one great sacrifice. His birthday is in early May, and back home the first weekend in May is a ‘Bank Holiday’ weekend – the direct equivalent of Memorial Day weekend here; a Monday off and the kick-off to summer. And so, for most of his life, he’s had a long weekend to celebrate his birthday. Instead, he’s in the midst of installing air conditioners, hosing down garden furniture and gathering metal for Green Up day recycling. One of the things we have found in making this move between countries, is that you kind of gain all the holidays, or always feel you are missing out on the one being celebrated on a different day in the other place. Rather than rejoice in Memorial Day weekend, which we do, we also feel we are missing out on the May Bank Holiday weekend. Mother’s Day – very confusing – which one do you choose for sending your mother a card? The Mother’s Day in the country you live in, or the country she lives in? (Mothering Sunday in the UK is tied to Easter. It is always a certain number of weeks before Easter and is related to the tradition of giving domestic servants a Sunday off to go and see their own families, before the craziness of preparing for Easter celebrations in their place of work. How’s that for some education here on this blog?)

I suppose, as an Inn and Restaurant, we’re here to help you celebrate it all. And ultimately it really doesn’t matter what or where your occasion occurs, if you choose to spend it with us, we are honored and will do our best to make it as special as possible.

Huh, that’s not where I thought this blog post was headed. Oh well, I’ve got chores to get back to.

Well, I have been promising myself that I will not get maudlin, at least in public. But I have also promised myself to post on this blog regularly. Unfortunately for you (for me?) I only have one thing on my mind this week.

Thursday evening we lost our much beloved dog, Jackie.

We were a little family unit and Dominic and I are feeling a little lost without her. She had a great life, she fought a good fight against more illnesses and conditions than one dog should have, all with style and flair and a personality that absolutely everyone who ever met her adored. And maybe this is why I feel I should write about her here – while we loved her most, and best, she was integral to this Inn and will be missed by people far and wide. From her first home outside Dublin where her nearest neighbor was a donkey, via London and on to Shoreham where her day to day life at the Inn could most accurately be described as a succession of calling hours. Receiving her public. Doling out her kisses and wiggles. Accepting treats. Monitoring deliveries. Supervising the chopping of vegetables. Stopping by for lunch with the neighbors. Allowing visitors away from dogs at home to get their daily fix of doggy love. Teaching small children how to correctly love a dog.

We haven’t quite figured out how to begin the busy season without her. We expect questions about her all summer long from returning guests. The Shoreham Inn is certainly slightly less than it was before. She is irreplaceable and was, quite simply, the best dog that ever lived.

We had a thunderstorm to end all thunderstorms last week. And I’m a girl who grew up in the Midwest, so I know a thing or two about thunderstorms. It was loud, it was bright, it was pretty frightening and, very sadly, the beloved Newton Academy was struck by lightening and completely gutted. Our local volunteer firefighters, aided by firefighters and equipment from about 6 surrounding towns,  battled all night long so that nothing else in town was damaged, but the result was an unsafe shell of a building, right next to our elementary school, and so the final pieces had to be torn down the next day.

Here at The Shoreham Inn we just feel we need to pause and give honor to a fellow piece of the landscape of our small village, now irretrievably lost. The Academy was looking forward to celebrating it’s 200th year this year. The Inn is just a smidgen older and I find myself imagining them new and sparkling 200 years ago. I also keep picturing all the thousands of people who have passed through the doors, made memories, had experiences – and even for those of us with no historical or personal connection to the building, it just seems impossible that it’s not there as you look across the town green.

Without getting too sentimental, it is a reminder to appreciate everything in our lives, especially perhaps the more elderly elements, because while 200 years is a good, long run; it’s easy to get complacent and believe that those things will be with us forever.

Spring fever is rampant in Vermont today. 80 degrees is the forecast. We all know it’s too soon for summer to actually have arrived, but it sure gets us all excited for the next season coming around the corner. We have a guest this weekend who heard the forecast, threw her bicycle in the car and drove up for a couple of days.

Now, here’s the thing, it’s a funny season in Vermont. Not a big tourist time of the year. Traditionally we call it ‘mud season’. But here’s what she noticed yesterday; there’s nobody else around. Plenty of time to chat in the bike shop. She’ll have the park on Lake Champlain practically to herself this afternoon. She feels like she’s never been here and just seen people living their lives, it’s always been times when there are tourists everywhere and a general feeling of vacation. Spring is a working time of the year, and there is some pretty hard work to be done up here. But, if you’re not the one doing it, it might not be a bad thing to come and see. Gardens aren’t perfect yet, though buds have arrive (and I just found my very first purple crocus in front of the Inn), fields are being tilled, lambs are being born. But she’s right, Vermont is full of people who live here, outside soaking in the sun, doing chores and preparing for the next season.

Spring is that hopeful, anticipatory season everywhere and it always seems to burst upon us in one sudden weekend. But, in reality, if you look closely, little signs are everywhere, and spending some time slowing down and looking for those signs might not be a bad way to spend a couple of days.