cottage diaries:
summer of spontaneity
i spent this past Tuesday afternoon lightly preparing our sweet cottage rental space ~ i had just received notification of a weekend booking, so i had a few more days to do the final round of cleaning and detailing. Within these days, i had decided to take on the project of giving the front patio deck tiles their thorough, annual facelift, relieving them of a year’s gathering of debris + caked-on mud. Elijah was relocating all the long, fat worms that had found their way underneath, when i received a message from Justin on my Air Bnb app:
“My son (10 years old) and I decided to take a spur of the moment trip to do the Manitou Incline and see Pike's Peak and your place looks so wonderful! I know we are booking same day so let me know if that does not work for you? Also, we are starting from Kansas City in about an hour so we won't get there until 12-2 am. Thank you!”
i did a self-check-in ~ what would it mean to say yes to this request? Do i have capacity tonight to make this happen for this adventurous father + son duo? i thanked myself for preparing what i did that day, and decided that they would likely not care (or even notice) that the front stoop was sub-par. If that was my only hesitation (read: my personal standards of beauty), i could make that shift within myself; i wanted to support this dad on his mission. i accepted Justin’s request, threw down an extra rug over the unsightly concrete slab, and called it good. The cottage got a final vacuuming and wipe-down before i left for my monthly Writer’s Coven gathering for the evening, knowing that i still had plenty of time afterwards for final touches. When i returned a few hours later, i prepared for their late-night/early-morning arrival: closed all the blinds and curtains so they’d have a better-chance at sleeping in, toggled all the lamps low on their dimmers, made sure the pull-out bed had linens, double-checked the key-code for accuracy, and turned on the outside light, imagining the relief of pulling up to the cottage after the marathon-of-a-drive.
As our bedroom window lines the guest driveway, i heard them roll in, thankful for their safe journeying. i got up to pee since i was awake, affirmed they got inside ok, and fell back asleep, silently wishing them both deep rest.
As it goes with many of our guests, i didn’t see them much due to their action-packed explorations. At around 8pm, the tired-but-fulfilled pair tumbled out of their Jeep as i was still in backyard gardening mode with the expanding light of the June evening. We easily dropped into some sweet conversation over our pallet partition-fence, Justin sharing highlights of the day from his “dad-lens:” Chris enthusiastically leaping out of bed at 8am that morning, excited for the day’s adventuring (despite the minimal sleep they were on); the epic journey up The Manitou Incline, complete with an afternoon downpour; the impromptu decision to put a pin on a mountain road and navigate there together. i learned that Justin is a middle school social studies teacher in Kansas City, so we briefly chatted about our mutual experiences working in education. i expressed my gladness for their choice to stay with us and my admiration for their spirit of spontaneity. i adore the opportunity to connect with our guests for this very reason ~ to feel our shared human-ness, to offer a chance to intercept as beings on our respective paths, all within the context/container our beloved little cottage. We said our goodbyes, as they’d be heading out early for yet another grand drive up to the summit of Pike’s Peak (or Tava, the Ute name, meaning Sun Mountain), and we all turned in for the night.
As i gathered the bedding and towels the next day after their departure, i glanced at our guestbook. Between the slim moments of actually residing within the cottage, and being in adventure-dad mode, it seemed unlikely that anything would be written in it. But i looked anyway, and was wholly-surprised to find Justin’s sweet words:
“As I searched for somewhere my son and I could stay at around 5pm on 6/10 in Kansas City, I found your amazing space. This year our motto is “spontaneity” for my little family. What we found was anything other than that here. The space has such a homey feel to it and we can feel the love and time that it takes to make it that way. The space is not the only thing that made us feel that way. Laura and Anthony were wonderful! They had it set up so when we arrived at 3:30am we felt right at home. In this adventure we found that coziness and touches of love brought my son and I closer together. Thank you for sharing this space and I hope to be back in the future!”
Summer can definitely radiate a spirit of wild possibility, especially for a teacher and ten-year-old just released from the grip of the school-year’s stacked schedule. As we hedge toward solstice and the days stretch ever-longer, may this little account of a father seizing the moment and just going for it inspire you to (also) make this a summer of spontaneity as well.
