Decorating Between Seasons–Not Quite Spring

So how do you decorate for March whenSilverplated coffee pot with an enscribed "D" Easter is near the end of April?   There is still snow on the ground, and the temperatures are, well, a bit glacial.   Bunnies and chicks just doesn’t seem quite right.  Valentine’s hearts don’t cut it any more.

Guests comment on the seasonal decorations of the inn all the time, so I don’t want to let them down.  Down come all the red feather trees and ribbons.   Up go pussy willow branches and a few hints of forsythia…I do want to know that spring will come, right?

About nine months ago, I was working to clean out the basement of my father’s house.  He had passed away after living in the house for almost 40 years.   I had thought that he had gotten rid of lots of stuff (my Barbies now live with me)…but there were still things that neither I nor my brothers and sisters were all that familiar with.   So when there was a box of silver that no one wanted, I took it with me, thinking, “I am sure that I can use that at the Silverplated teapot and creamer.Inn sometime.”

I took out the silverware and began to polish it.   And the memories started.   An odd child, I always loved polishing silverware.   I would spend an entire afternoon at my grandmother’s polishing silverware.  Likewise with my mother’s lily of the valley tableware.   For some reason the smell of the polish and the transformation from dark tarnish to shiny silver was satisfying to me.  The initials are swirled around the front of the coffee pot, and the large silver tray has an entire inscription in  German.   I realize these all belonged to my great grandfather, who was a minister in Trenton New Jersey.   The inscription was from a thankful congregation that he ministered for many years.

Inn parlor with vase of forsythiaAnd I remember pictures…old black and white, faded yellow, of a man with a very large waxed handlebar mustache.   A picture of my mother as a child with shoes that still needed boot button hooks.    And my dad as a boy wearing shorts and high stockings.

And here they all are at the Grape Arbor Bed and Breakfast in a building that would have been here when my great grandfather was alive in the 1800’s.  Surrounded by Alexa playing classical music, and the happy smells of bread baking and the laughter of guests.

Spring is coming!

 

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