Which is the sweeter ride, the Wells Fargo Wagon, or a Bentley? A study in contrasts on North Main Street, prior to Southampton's annual Fourth of July parade...

Volunteers

Sometimes seeds blow into the garden or we've composted something that eventually gets worked into the soil, and then out of the blue, we get what Chris likes to call a volunteer. I find it fun (Chris, not so much) to see what shows up. Yes, yes, you can argue that anything you didn't purposely plant is a WEED! -- and of course, most of them are. But for example, stuck into the corner of a bed where we're growing thyme, we have a volunteer tomato plant that is currently about 15" high. Is it a Big Boy? Cherry? Some other type? If it makes it to full size, we may know.  Over behind the "real" tomato bed is one single sunflower...presumably the gift of one of the birds. Chris pulled out the pumpkin plant that threatened to take over half of the vegetable garden, sigh...guess I'll be cutting my pumpkins this fall at Hank's Pumpkin Town with the the rest of the crowds. A tiny cedar tree appeared a couple of years ago in the middle of a bed of Lady's Mantle...Chris transplanted it back behind the pool, where it is now nearly two feet high.

Speaking of volunteers...The weather was perfect for the beach this past weekend, but the riptides were worrisome, and I was glad that all of our guests who enjoyed the ocean did so at Cooper's Beach where there are lifeguards on duty until 5 PM. On Sunday, two of our guests, Mark and Jennifer, were enjoying the late afternoon hours with a long walk along the beach. A Korean church group had set up in an area quite a ways down the beach, beyond reach of the lifeguard station (even if it had still been manned; it was now nearly six PM). As they approached, a frantic woman ran up to them, screaming for help: One of their members had gone swimming and was in deep trouble. Mark dived into the dangerous surf, swam out, and pulled the man safely back to shore. That's not only a volunteer, that's a hero!

Quote of the Day: We make a living by what we do, but we make a life by what we give. --Winston Churchill

Heat wave

We've had a heat wave this week, so hot and sticky (well, for the Hamptons) that it's hard to get motivated to go outside of air conditioned comfort unless it's to the pool or the beach -- both popular choices of our guests this past week. Chris and I spotted each other for a couple of hours off apiece this week, and both times I went to the beach. On Tuesday afternoon, the ocean was as calm as the bay, with tiny little waves making their way up the shore as the tide came in, and I sat down where an errant wave would occasionally wash over my feet...wonderfully refreshing. Today, with widely scattered showers and thunderstorms predicted, the scene at the beach was far different: the waves were scarily beautiful, high and full and angry. I was a little relieved that the threat of rain had kept most people away from a swim, because the surf included a wicked riptide. Eastward, I could see by the clouds that East Hampton and Montauk were getting some serious rain but, while overcast, it was only spitting in Southampton -- not even enough to worry about raindrops ruining my book.

Coming off the beach around 4:15, I watched a deer step through the car park and disappear into the grounds of one of the estates that line the oceanfront. I doubt that would have happened on a sunnier, and therefore, busier beach day...but then again, the deer here seem to be getting increasingly used to civilization, so who knows.

It was the oddest thing: We set up for breakfast on the patio this morning with one eye watching the clouds, ready to relocate the meal to the dining room if need be. At 9:30 AM, pretty much everyone was seated and the sun was high in the hazy sky...and raindrops started to fall. The guests, seated under the shade umbrellas that cover the tables, saw no reason to move inside. Puzzled, I commented that all we seemed to be missing was a rainbow.

David said, "We don't see it because obviously this place IS the end of the rainbow!"

Clouds and mugginess will pass, but here at the end of the rainbow, I'm smiling.

Quote for the Day:  Live with intention. Walk to the edge. Listen hard. Practice wellness. Play with abandon. Laugh. Choose with no regret. Continue to learn. Appreciate your friends. Do what you love. Live as if this is all there is. --Maryanne Radmacher-Hershey

The taste of summer

Most of our guests visit A Butler's Manor for R&R, but there are some who are on business, and we strive to be as close to "home" (without the distractions often found there!) as possible. Patrick, a recent guest, was doing a "deep breathe" between two business conferences. He still had calls to make and reports to send, but with our WiFi operational over the whole property, here's where he made his "office."  If you've got to work, this is not too shabby, eh?

It's been a week of exceptionally congenial guests who have evidently enjoyed both their stay and each other. Each day guests have lingered over the breakfast table (okay, so the breakfast table IS in Chris's garden), chatted with each other at the pool, sat down together in the living room after coming home from dinner...just a really simpatico crowd. It gives me such a warm feeling to see that happen.

Weather on tap for the upcoming Fourth of July weekend is supposed to be perfect -- 80 degrees and clear. I'm sure the Butlermobile (a.k.a. the Buick Roadmaster) will be making lots of trips to and from Cooper's Beach this weekend! Also perfect weather to enjoy a lobster overlooking the marina in Hampton Bays at Sunwaters Grill or Tide Runners (greedy me, I've done both this week). The latter has entertainment on the dock overlooking the Shinnecock Canal, and judging by the crowd on the night we went (Sunday), some of those bands have quite a following. A warm night, a breeze off the water, sweet lobster in melted butter, a tropical drink and some live music...doesn't get much better than that!

Speaking of live music, tonight (Wednesday) begins the summer Concerts in the Park series here in Southampton Village. I've said before how this is one of my all-time favorite things to do in summer. Agawam Park (at the base of Job's Lane) fills up with families out to enjoy a true small-town good time. Pack a picnic, grab a beach chair and a bottle of wine and enjoy the music and the ambiance, while the little kids dance in front of the bandstand or run off to the playground. The Southampton Cultural Center, which funds this wonderful summer activity, sends the bucket brigade around at halftime to collect a small voluntary donation to pay the bands that entertain us. Most of us locals have been attending these concerts for years, and are happy to drop a few bucks in the bucket. So (WARNING, rant ahead!) it just frosts me to see, as I did tonight, a group comprised of say, a couple of women, perhaps their husbands, four or five children, and one or two nannies (!) enjoying the evening, but who shrug and shake their heads when the bucket brigade reaches them as if to say oops, sorry, didn't bring any money. Worse, I've seen people ignore these volunteers altogether, turning away from them as though they didn't exist. Come on, folks! Southampton is, overall, a very well-to-do community. There is no excuse for not helping to preserve the little joys that contribute to making it such a great place to live and visit.

Okay, stepping off the soapbox now.

We look forward to a great weekend, and helping our guests enjoy all that the Hamptons have to offer, that they will come away loving it the way we do.

Quote of the Day: A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken. -- James Dent

Who is a celebrity?

Occasionally, guests will ask, "Have you had any celebrities stay here?"

Our answer: "All our guests are celebrities as far as we're concerned." And we mean it. (By the way, most celebrities who don't already have a house out here have friends who do. Or their handlers want to book them last minute on busy summer weekends and expect us to kick someone else out of our largest room in order to do it. Not happening in my lifetime.)

We have had national newscasters, polo players, a well-known college basketball coach, and once, a German prince stay with us, but truly, the primary reason most of us innkeepers choose to open a bed and breakfast is because we enjoy meeting people from all over the world and all walks of life. Chris and I don't generally ask people what they do for a living (in case they prefer not to say), but often the subject comes up of its own accord in the morning over breakfast, and often, lively conversation ensues. Once in a while, someone stays at A Butler's Manor who makes his or her living in a way that is an uncommon as Chris's having been a butler for twenty years. Needless to say, this makes for especially interesting breakfast table conversation.

Such was the case the other day with Kent stayed with us. Kent is a professional jockey, the winner of three Kentucky Derbys, two Preakness and one Belmont Stakes. As someone who toured Churchill Downs a few years ago and would love to see the Derby in person someday (of course, wearing a huge hat!), I was intrigued, and so were our other guests. When Kent checked out, he gave us a Player's Card, like a baseball card. Fun!

Once we had a guy who was a Olympic medalist in swimming. He was a quiet sort of guy and probably wouldn't have volunteered the information, but someone recognized his Olympic ring (a gold ring with the signature five ring design) and asked about it. Soon everyone at the table was involved in the conversation, and we all learned a lot about the Olympics as seen from the inside.

Isn't this a great way to make a living?

Quote of the Day: We have all been placed on this earth to discover our own path, and we will never be happy if we live someone else's idea of life. --James Van Praagh  

A cute problem

Visitors from large cities, especially those from New York City, often refer to the Hamptons as "the country" (though how any place that includes local outposts of Ralph Lauren and Saks Fifth Avenue can be considered "country," I'm not sure) and many of them are enchanted to encounter our wildlife, whether it be the sight and song of the birds in the morning, or a glimpse of deer grazing (we hope!)alongside of the road. But late last night we discovered some unexpected guests...a mama Mallard duck and eleven (!!) little ducklings making themselves at home in our pool.

We can't figure out where this little brood came from. The babies seemed too small to be able to fly yet. And there was no Papa Mallard to be seen.  Our nearest natural pond is Lake Agawam on the west edge of the village...a distance of just about a mile. There are wetlands and ponds in Water Mill that may possibly be closer, but cute as it is to see a mama duck trailing a platoon of offspring, I can't envision them crossing Montauk Highway safely. (Hey, it's difficult enough in summer to make a left hand turn.)

So last night, worried about how the little ducklings would get out of the pool (the coping was surely too deep for them to jump out), we hung about with a flashlight to see if they'd find the steps in the shallow end. Chris turned off the automatic timer on the pool so that the motor didn't come on and suck the little babies into the skimmer. Even so, I went to bed hoping we weren't going to find drowned ducklings in the morning (which marks me as every bit as unused to wildlife as our city guests!).

On the contrary: By breakfast time this morning, the whole lot had quite settled in and decided this was a nice new home, and had even discovered that the silent skimmers made great hiedey-holes. Uh, sorry. Cute as they may be, I somehow don't see our guests interested in sharing a swim with new feathered friends.

A call to our local Wildlife Center elicited advice, but no offer to help relocate our traveling family. It looked like we were going to have to somehow round up Mama and put her in a box, then round up all the duckling and put them in a box, and transport them all to one of the nearby ponds. (The man-made pond in front of our bed & breakfast colleague Donna Andreassi's "Pondview," came to mind.) In the meantime, we chased them all into the center of the pool, put those bright foam floating "noodles" in front of the skimmer entrances, and turned on the pool, hoping that if the water were less "pond-like" and still, perhaps Mama would be encouraged to take her children elsewhere.

It seems to have worked. With a huffy, "well, if that's the way you're going to be about it" twitch to her rear end, Mama lined all her little ducks up in height order and led them through the side gate, out into the field beyond. Whew!

At A Butler's Manor, we like to say that you don't need a house in the Hamptons, you've got us. But maybe we do need to draw the line somewhere...

Unexpected blessing

It was to be a quiet morning here...just two couples in residence, and one of them, poor things, had to catch an early flight back to Seattle, so left (with a breakfast care package) at o' dark-thirty. The other couple were honeymooners recuperating from their wedding this past Saturday (and a follow-up BBQ on Sunday). Weather is perfect, so the table is all set in the garden. Orange juice is squeezed and on ice. Plates are decorated with lemon balm and Evening Primrose. On the menu: fresh (local!) strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and melon, individual cinnamon coffee cakes, and sausage with raspberry French Toast, which has been prepped and dipped but will be cooked off when I see the whites of their eyes.

Nine-thirty AM comes...and goes. Ten o'clock. Ten-thirty. At 10:50 they appear, distressed and apologetic. They'd planned on having breakfast...had looked forward to it...but overslept. (Totally understandable for bridal couples following their wedding -- the emotional letdown is huge!) Now they had to run, in order to say goodbye to overseas friends who had traveled so far to see them wed. No time to even put them together a care package.

So off they go in a cloud of dust, and I'm disappointed because a) they missed their meal, and b) I hate to see food wasted. The birds do well by our leftover baked goods, but cooked food attracts only the kind of varmints we don't wish to take up residence at A Butler's Manor.

So...Chris and I had breakfast. What, you say? you don't eat your breakfasts? The truth: I sample my menus. One bite, maybe two. I'm still working off the fifteen pounds I put on in the early years of running A Butler's Manor when I was developing the majority of the recipes I use today! But today, I said, we get to do more than grab a taste of what's for breakfast...we're going to experience breakfast the way our guests do. Who cares if it's not on the diet?

And so I cooked off the French toast and sausages and Chris poured the orange juice and we sat out on the patio in the rose garden and enjoyed a wonderful meal, if I do say so myself. :) And then we had an extra cup of coffee, just because it was so peaceful, before we went upstairs to start the rooms.

Sometimes it takes little disruptions in the routine in order to allow us to appreciate Life more!

Quote of the Day: Think big thoughts but relish small pleasures. --H. Jackson Brown, Jr.