2. The Key To Vacation Thyme

Chapter Two: Home sweet home — almost

In Chapter One, you’ll recall that less than two hours after arriving at the bed and breakfast, I was locked out.

Though I wasn’t terribly worried my annoyance about the situation had distracted me from writing, and from the view pictured here. I peered through the glass longingly at the ottoman and the keys on the counter, and tried the door again, just in case. It was still locked.

I wasn’t even sitting on the hammock chair. There was a spider on it and another one in a web close behind it. No, I was sitting on the deck with my legs crossed, willing Wynn to return home with a spare set of keys.

I stood up, took the broom from the stairs and swept the spiders away, barely flinching for some strange reason. Then I sat back down on the floor of the deck. Don’t ask me why.

Eventually, I phoned a friend and after we shared a chuckle he looked up Wynn’s cell number on the website. I rambled through an embarrassing message on her voice mail and the call was returned immediately. She had left a spare set of keys hiding in an undisclosed location somewhere in the garden; a note she had already sent me with the email registration instructions. Go ahead, laugh. I know you wanna.

My bruised ego slunk inside and fixed some cheese and crackers, poured a glass of red wine and plunked down on the ottoman… finally! The silence was so great I could hear ringing in my ears. I put my feet up, covered myself with a fluffy orange throw and rested my chin on the back of the ottoman to stare out the window.

Funny, when I was locked out I was staring inside; now I’m inside, staring out. Go figure. My gaze moved from the trees, across the ocean, to the mountains and back again. It was SO quiet!

A spontaneous deep breath escaped my lips and I relaxed even more. Was it possible to sink even further into this cushion? It felt like I had. Though the B&B was elevated about three storeys above ground level the trees still towered above, standing at attention. My attention at that moment was on the deepest feeling of appreciation I’d felt in a long time.

I drank in the view, enveloped by the stillness and the comfort of the warm throw that was draped over me. My appreciation overflowed and big fat tears filled my eyes – I couldn’t help it. I sat there leaning into the view for a long time thinking about nothing at all; just breathing.

Little did I know that I was in for a rather abrupt meeting with a new friend. I stood up to stretch and moved my face close to the window to look down into the garden. What I saw made me gasp and jump back, horrified.

There in the corner of the window was the most god-awful looking spider I’d seen in a while. Very slowly I crept closer to look again; the sight of her gave me shivers. Her body was about the size of four very plump raisins. I was relieved to see that she was on the outside.

The hibachi was gathering dust in the pantry and I chose to leave that dust undisturbed; the grilled veggies I’d planned for dinner became sautéed veggies instead.

I dined on lamb, mashed potatoes and sautéed red and green peppers, zucchini, onion and garlic – lots of garlic and butter. And, more wine. My limit of one glass with dinner had been tossed.

After a half bottle of wine I was glowing and it was time for a movie. I pulled “A Fish Called Wanda” from the shelf and reveled in the goofy sexual encounters between the characters of Jamie Lee Curtis and John Cleese.

Peppermint tea, a couple of pieces of chocolate biscotti and a few Guylian chocolates were the perfect accompaniment. I’d seen this movie before and after they’d gotten all hot and heavy I lost interest, dozing off in the chair to dream of my own romantic encounters.

Visions of a rugged outdoorsy type with broad shoulders and devilish eyes that dance above a playful grin. A strong, intelligent and kind-hearted soul who appreciates and respects nature; a creative, free spirit with a deep, throaty voice that shakes your very soul.

Stay tuned for Chapter Three where among other things, I talk about a Happy Italian and the ride of a lifetime in the back of a bus :-) .

Tagged as: BC Bed and Breakfast, Bowen Island, Vacation