Saturday, October 31, 2009

The List

For some time now I've been engaged in a road construction project: I'm paving the road to hell with my good intentions. Throughout the fall I've all but ignored my duties around the Auberge in favor of moose hunting (which was a bust) and just trying to keep up with the vacuuming and bed-making during one of our busiest times of the year. But now that the dust cleared and I can look around, I'm confronted with the same issues I've been putting off for some time now. It's stick season, and the only thing I have on my agenda is The List.

The List makes its first appearance around the end of August. There's a natural lull in the action as summer draws to a close and fall foliage isn't quite there yet. The List begins as a few scribblings on a piece of paper next to my laptop, ideas that occur to me: Good name for a book--Once Around the Buddha; Kindle and Mobipocket.com; fix light in bathroom in Room 1. Stuff like that. Eventually, The List gets condensed, serving just one master: the inn.

Throughout the fall, while I ignore niggling issues (the bathroom window in 4 needs to be reglazed, the lights around the hot tub fell onto the deck, time to put away the hammock), The List grows and deepens in meaning. Finally, with the last weekend of full occupancy in the rear view mirror, I can turn to The List. And by now, it resembles an experiment gone awry, a petri dish left under the warming light too long. How did "paint the baseboard and trim in 7 & 8" get on there? And since when is the dead bolt on Room 5 busted? It's as if The List Fairy came down and tinkered with my pen overnight, leaving me with boatloads of work.

But then again, what else am I going to do? If I don't take care of The List, it will surely take care of me.