Dear Mom,
Remember when I told you that I was writing a blog and you said that you'd never get offended by anything I said because blogs were all about saying whatever you want, blah, blah, etc? Oh good! I'm about to tell the story of the past week...
Love,
Rachael

I've been at Mom's house with the girls for the last week and I'm happy to report it is still "spook-free." That's not to say, however, that the week hasn't been filled with an interesting cast of characters. Oh, on the contrary.

Let's start with the beer-guzzling-leave-their-shit-everywhere loggers that are staying in the Lodge (Mom has the Inn and the Lodge next door to each other). If I were 18-21 years old, single and kidless, this might be a rollicking good time but alas - I just did my best to avoid them all week. Hilarity ensued when Mom told them NOT to use the kitchen because the sink was clogged and the water turned off while the plumber worked on it for a few days. Do you think they listened? Nope! So Mom served all of their dirty dishes in the middle of the table with the breakfast the next morning after giving them a thorough verbal ass-whuppin'. To use my new favorite Southern phrase (courtesy of Erika): She had a real come-apart. It was awesome.

There were two county planning commissioners and their wives staying here - nothing special about this except I think both parties were traveling with their dogs. I'm not a dog owner so perhaps this seems odd only to me. But really? People bring their dogs to bed and breakfasts?? I find that gross.

Howard Berkes was here for a night. Yep. That's right. Of NPR fame. A celebrity in our midst! He has stayed here a number of times and was quite chatty when he found out that I also worked in public broadcasting in a past life. He SO doesn't look how he sounds.

A young married couple has been here all week, too. They're "artists in residence" from the Missoula Childrens Theatre and are putting on a play with the elementary school (or something). Very nice. Thrilled that the internet is available here in Podunk.

And then there are the usual cast of characters - Mom's boyfriend and friends. In lieu of going into detail on them, I'll instead regale you with tales of Mom herself - perhaps the wildest of all (and I mean that in the nicest way possible). I've already told you about her yelling at a bunch of lumberjacks at 6:15am. So how about this - I almost called the fire department two mornings this week. Yes - TWO mornings.

Mom claims that the problem with the wood stove in the living room is that it is three stories tall and needs a RAGING fire going before it will suck the smoke up and out - as opposed to push it out of the stove into the living room. Well, I guess Mom's not so great at making RAGING fires. We learned this the hard way. After I had the girls safely by the back door with their coats on and completely out of harm's way, I ran back to the living room and charged into the billowing clouds of black smoke to locate my mother. She was crouched on the floor in front of the stove with her shirt pulled up over her nose and mouth, trying to put another log on the fire while also avoiding the flames shooting OUT OF THE STOVE AND RIGHT AT HER. She forbade me to call the fire department as she exclaimed, "I got it! I got it! It's sucking the smoke up now! This will clear in five minutes! I promise!" Anyone who knows Mom will be able to picture this scene VIVIDLY, but here are some pictures anyway (hey - the iPhone was right there in my pocket and I wasn't allowed to call for help - how could I not take pictures?)


The thick smoke in the living room


Mom sprinting away from the wood stove


Mom in mock-collapse on the floor in the front hall (in case you wonder where I get my flair for the dramatic)

We ran around opening doors and windows (it was about 30 degrees outside, by the way) then got in the truck and went for a drive and out to lunch while the smoke cleared. Exhausting. The same thing happened the next morning, too. THE SAME EFFING THING!! This time I strapped the girls into their carseats in the truck with their favorite music while I ran back in to make sure Mom wasn't laid out on the living room floor. We've kept a fire going ever since. There's no way that we're playing that game a third time. And Mom swears that she's not going to use the wood stove again. Ever. I sure as hell hope not.

What else? Oh, she and her boyfriend are negotiating a land deal in Costa Rica (having been there for the one and only time last week). Don't get me started...

Tomorrow we go back to Portland and I can't wait to see Dude! We haven't been apart for this long since before the girls were born and I miss him like crazy. Besides, I'm thoroughly wiped out from trying to keep up with Mom (nevermind Belly and the Bug).