Tuesday, May 02, 2006

What Happened to April?

As shoulder seasons go, April and May are probably my favorites (though I'm likely to extol November next fall). It's hard to resist the lazy lure of spring after a bizarre winter. And if you're a writer, it's darn near impossible. That's because spring brings so much excitement with it, and as an innkeeper, that means that I actually have time to participate in some of the excitement.
Of course, spring means work around the inn. Snow, ice, cold, and wind have worked diligently all winter long to twist, crush, and strangle the old structure. Now she needs some TLC: tape (duct), locksmithing, and caulking compound. The locksmithing happened when I lost the key to one of my interior door locks. Since we had to get into the room, I had no choice but to drill the lock out. Savvy readers of this blog probably can guess that the chuck hadn't stopped spinning on my drill before the key to the now destroyed lock was suddenly discovered.
But this year things don't seem as desperate. Maybe that's because I've just completed my master's studies, and I'll be awarded my Master of Fine Arts in Writing this July. That means that I've suddenly freed up three hours a day. With all my free time, I expect to do a lot of strolling around the grounds with my hands in my pockets, appreciating all the things I've ignored for the past two years. From my early sorties, I can see there'll be a lot of cement mixing, nailing, and small engine repair in my immediate future. That's okay, because it's great motivation to keep writing and teaching.
That's what happened to April. It became the model for transition months: still too cold for most springtime activities, not cold enough to ignore them all. All in all, April is a very civilized month, preparing us for a mellow transition from winter--which lasts until Mother's Day--to summer, which begins with Memorial Day. April lets us gear down gradually, taking one layer off at a time. Guest arrivals at the inn are sporadic, but we still had to turn away business in order to go visit family for Easter.
For now, I'm happy to stand in the front yard with a rake, making half-hearted swipes at the detritus strewn about the grass, while I gaze lustily at the parade of Harleys gently rumbling by, waiting for the summer story storms to strike.