Inn Chronicles

We are ready to receive discerning canine guests in Victorian style!

We love traveling with our dog, Urse.  It’s fun to see the world from her viewpoint and it’s a LOT more fun to run on a beach with a dog than without.  With a dog companion, you have to stop and smell the roses.

When we purchased the Inn, we decided to create a dog-friendly room because we know from experience that no B&Bs in Port Townsend allow them, and darned few hotels.  So as soon as things slowed down in January we pulled up carpet, refinished floors, repainted woodwork, found less-easily damaged antiques and washable quilts, put in a stock of pet toys and bought Old Consulate Dog bowls.  What fun!

The Rose Suite is ready for cold wet noses and bright curious eyes! Our dog policy can be reviewed here.

It is an interesting fact about old homes… the few electrical outlets they have are invariably strangely placed.  Several of ours are behind the king-sized bed (tough to get to) or across the room from the one table.   And while we are conscientiously bringing ever more authentic Victorian sensibility to our Inn, we have to admit that we travel with our computers.  And phones.  And cameras.  And the occasional medical apparatus.  We need outlets.  And so do our guests.

Therefore, let it be known that the Old Consulate Inn is in the process of accessibly placing grounded outlets (in the form of a Monster Mini Powerstrip) on the bedside tables.  True, they are anachronistic.  But we are hoping that they are so ubiquitous in our world, that the eye will pass gently over them, while the mind pounces on them with relief…

Those of you who travel without the need for electricity, we salute you and thank you for your understanding.

Aloha!

The weekend of January 28th brings us the Port Townsend Strange Brew Fest.   If you were looking for quiet, reflective tasting, um, … don’t come.  If you like your beer and cider with funky bands and great ribs, then this just might be what you’ve been waiting for.  The Festival encourages the breweries and cideries (20 lined up so far) to create unique brews that are frequently only sold at this event.  Check out the website and the breweries attending:  www.StrangeBrewFestPT.com

Might we mention, in passing, that you can walk to this event from The Old Consulate Inn.  Ok, it is a longish walk (about 9 blocks) but the crisp air will do your head a world of good.  Show us your ticket to the event, and get 10% off your room for the night.  AND get a 3 course breakfast the next morning!

The party’s in Port Townsend.

OK, I have to say that after 15 years in the wine industry, I grew to greatly mistrust the pairing of red wine and chocolate.  For my taste, it tends to dampen the richness of the chocolate and makes the wine taste sour.  Having said that, there was one extraordinary pairing that sent me tripping amid the stars: luscious, velvety, and extraordinarily flavorful, it brought out amazing fruit nuances in the wine and an extra deep richness from the chocolate.  To reach that nirvana again, I am willing to keep trying…  And I have found that these tastings are a fantastic way to discover really extraordinary red wines and some exquisite chocolates, with or without each other!    May we invite you to come revel in the rich wines and chocolates of the Olympic Penninsula.  February 11, 12 and 18, 19, 20.  http://www.olympicpeninsulawineries.org/redwinechocolate.php

May you find your own personal nirvana.  I’ll be looking for mine!

As an innkeeper, as a host, as a person, I don’t like to disappoint people.  In general, if someone comes to me saying “I was hoping for…” then I want to say, “Sure. Here you go.”  But there’s an exception to my magnanimity: tv.

Over the last 6 months, we’ve had a handful of guests ask about television, generally for videos or sports.  By now we could have gone out and bought one but that simply isn’t what the Inn is about.  Ironically, with a television on, communication stops.  At least the kind of communication that matters to me.  Instead of talking about their lives, their friends, their books, their interest - with a television people just listen.

We’re coming up on the Super Bowl and I KNOW someone at the Inn that weekend is going to be sad.  That is, unless we do a preemptive strike.  So Cindy and I are announcing the No Bowl Weekend.  There’s a pun in there about “noble,” but I’ll leave well enough alone.  Anyhow, if you’re a huge sports fan, please join us one of the other 51 weekends this year.  If you must plug into the telebroadcast stream, please bring something that’ll work off our wifi.  And if you’re like me and don’t have enough time for all the things in life that can be done in a room without an LCD shrine at its focal point, come join the conversation and savor the peace.

It’s almost New Year’s, when everyone stops and reflects on the year past and the year ahead – but every time I do my head spins.  One year ago today we were living quietly (well, not really, but quietly-ish) in Seattle with no plans to ever leave.  Many of our dearest friends lived within 5 miles of our lovely home in the U-district.  Our days were extremely full, very pleasant, and comparatively predictable – full of music, good cheer, and so many activities we couldn’t imagine squeezing one more thing in.  We had just finished one of our bi-annual feasts with 70+ friends in a kind of time traveller’s Yule feast spanning Renaissance, Baroque and Victorian cuisine, costumes, dancing and tomfoolery.  We were taking a well-deserved rest when a note arrived in the mail, a flyer for a B&B “For Sale” ~ “Saw this and thought of you” scribbled on the back.

Whew.

It’s been an amazing year.  Let there be no mistake, there was a lot of heart-ache getting here and there’s been a staggering amount of work since we arrived.  People ask if it’s what we’d expected and the answer, quite honestly, is “Yes, pretty much.”  We love our new lives; we’re exhausted a lot of the time; we sorely miss being close to our friends; we’re constantly discovering quirky, wonderful things (and people) in our new home.  Cindy is undaunted by the daily routine compounded by the work of improving this beautiful old mansion in a way that leaves me stunned. Fearless and unwavering.  Every time I ask myself if it was worth it a guest or new neighbor shocks me back to the now that contains amazing people and brilliant opportunities. Or else the obligatory dog walk makes me look up from the keyboard to see the spectacular beauty of the mountains beyond the forests above the water.  And I am remind how little we can know of what lies ahead, but I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be good.

Happy New Year and best wishes for 2012 from us way up here at the Inn

We have returned.  It’s just under six months since we moved into the Old Consulate.  Last night we resumed an old tradition, commemorating the cardinal points of the year with the winter solstice.  Before we met, both Cindy and I already had long standing traditions of pausing to acknowledge the changing of the seasons.  For me these have always been an opportunity to bring together a few friends and pause to contemplate the turning of the year, where I am, where I’ve been, and where I think I’m going.  Usually this takes place while staring into a bonfire with a glass of beer in my hand.  No matter how hectic life is, we owe it to ourselves every three months to pause and take stock.

It says a lot about the progress we’ve made from the scramble of living out of boxes while dedicating every minute of the day to ensuring our guests enjoy their stay to – now, being able to take a few hours to sit with friends and reflect upon what we’ve accomplished.  It’s somewhat stunning how much Cindy’s done and we’re looking forward to amazing things as light returns to the Earth.  Wishing you all a winter of warmth and good cheer, with good people around you and bright hope for the future.

Most tourists to Port Townsend will be astounded to see deer wandering blithely through the lawn of some Victorian mansion or pausing to tenderly nibble at the verge of an old garden.  They will stop the car to savor the pastoral beauty.  They will get out of their car to take pictures.  They will call it to the attention of a passing letter carrier.  They may also be perplexed by the local motorists who honk, that letter carrier rolling his eyes, the livid octogenarian furiously hobbling down the path brandishing a rake.  The fact is, Port Townsend is overrun with deer.  They mow flowers beds down to the dirt.  They are responsible for scores of auto accidents per year.  And they’re responsible for the row of stopped traffic blocking the single road out of town when I’m already late for the ferry.

My favorite deer story to date took place in summer. As I walked by with the dog on our daily perambulation, I came across a middle-aged woman who had parked her minivan in the middle of Walker street to observe a family of deer grazing in the park before the courthouse.  Somewhere between six and fourteen round little faces pressed themselves against the tinted windows.  I could hear the squeals and chatter through the open front window which the driver was rolling down.

“Are those dear local?” the driver asked me with breathless enthusiasm.

I stared at her blankly for a little longer than polite before nodding.  “Yes.  Yes, I think they are.”

“Wow!” she exclaimed and went back to staring.  She was still there as I walked up the steps to the inn.

So this morning, having just cleared breakfast, I paused to look out the window.  The sun was just breaking through the low, grey winter fog and reflecting off the bay.  In the foreground is the white lighthouse, cast in greys, on its bluff silhouetted with its fringe of grey-brown scrub brush, untrimmed since summer.  Into this still-life stepped a young doe, the only visible movement to the horizon – and yeah, I just stood there and watched.  I watched the whole time as it crossed the field and made its way down to the road and out of my line of sight.

So there’s the story on deer.  It’s “complicated,” but at least a part of me is glad they’re local.

Urse and I were walking the beach this morning and were passed by 2 joggers in full winter gear: bulky jackets, gloves, wind pants… and fluffy red Santa Claus hats, with white tip bobbles that bounced as they ran.  I had forgotten how marvelous (in the full sense of the word) a small town holiday can be.  People smile at each other and hold doors and there is silent laughter in the air (along with the heady scent of fresh pizza or cinnamon rolls!)   It is such an uplifting thing to be acknowledged with a nod, or smile, or ‘good morning’.  What was so rare in the city seems so natural here… I am loving our new home.   And for the first time in years I am truly reveling in the Season.  Tomorrow I bake cookies!!