Hostess Syndrome

We are bone weary tonight. We are suffering the effects of Hostess Syndrome, a condition diagnosed by my old partner and best friend, Marie. Here are the symptoms: before your guests appear, you obsess about the cleanliness and feng shui of their accommodations. You plan an array of interesting things for them to do. You plan menus. You look up the weather report so you can be prepared with enough blankets. When the guests actually appear you try to make them feel comfortable and welcome. You fold up that interesting newspaper column you were reading (forget the novel) and forego all naps because.. you are on hostess duty.

But, the thing is, we LOVE all these visitors and cherish their visits. It is all worth it. In this tourist season from Christmas on, we have rarely been without guests. They have been the best. Friends, family, some in enormous numbers, sometimes in couples, some just for the day and evening. We cook, gather things from the garden, take walks, sit on the porch and watch the birds and deer. The kids run around in the fields, fly kites, swim and hurl balls at each other.

I steal away to my studio, hoping for just a few minutes that it won't be populated with the wonderful guests who know that I am generous with my space and supplies.

But, it's true that when ever there is a sniff of guests here, Hostess Syndrome kicks in. Have to think of what dietary programs for each one ( vegetarian, vegan, no red meat, doesn't eat fish, is allergic to certain nuts, hates tomatoes, no pork, can't eat wheat etc.) We try to accommodate everyone. Andy, the cook, is spectacular with these food issues and there is always a wonderful dinner to share.

I am not complaining. I feel extremely blessed to have this enormous circle of family and friends. This season we have had an especially wonderful group of folks here. We have loved the visits from our children and grandchildren. We love their spouses. As I write this, Quincy, our youngest grandson is soundly asleep upstairs in the main house, probably dreaming of breakfast pancakes. (He'll eat anything!) But I am already thinking of events for tomorrow on which to hang the day. Will it be a trip to the train museum, or maybe a trip to the Pioneer Village, or perhaps a visit to Farmers' Feed to look at the baby chickens and turkeys and rabbits, and, if we're lucky they will have piglets for sale as well?

When we are without guests, or have low maintenance ones in the guest house, we have our weekend routine of spending hours reading the papers and working in our studios while listening to the opera. Many guests have contributed lots of effort to the ongoing work of the farm. They have worked in the garden, mowed the fields, cleared trails, and cut wood. We deeply appreciate these guests who are curious and reverent about the natural world that enfolds us.

Quincy, now four years old, is easy. Really, all he wants to do is spend time in the barn where he can climb on the tractor or get out all the cast off cardboard boxes, load them up in his wagon, and pretend he is a UPS delivery man. While this is going on, I can work in my studio, and occasionally get up to accept a "delivery". "Are there any charges?" I ask. Quincy smiles and says,"I don't think so! No charge."

He goes back to his business. No hostess syndrome issues here.

Sometimes a guest will offer me a plum of a gift. One of our latest guests, Claire, offered me some computer help, specifically on updating this blog. A gift of time and expertise like this is priceless.

Though I am weary tonight, I am full of the love these wonderful guests leave us.