Letters to the Summer Tenants
Aug. 30, 1997
Dear
P's,
I'm so glad you enjoyed your
stay on the island. We were delighted to arrive after our long trip yesterday
and find everything in such fine shape. It is always such a pleasure--after the
fuss with the boat, the baggage, and the groceries--to walk the porches, and to
watch the sun set behind the lighthouse to the west, the moon rise from the
tinted sea to the east, the water darken and cap with white in the south. Of
course, you probably didn't spend much time on the deck looking south because
of the smell from the garbage cans.
Well, they're all clean now,
though it did take some scrubbing. Next year I must make sure to leave you a
larger supply of the 39-gallon can liners. I know I've left you notes about the
others being too small, which means the lobster shells and fish juices spill
over and mix with the chewing gum and pasta in the bottom of the can. You can
buy the liners right in the harbor at the supermarket, though I suppose it is
easier to grab the 30-gallon size. And with all the guests you have while
you're here, I'm sure time must be at a premium!
I did find a minute to relax
in a rocker on the porch this morning, to watch the seabirds and admire what's
left of the garden. (It's amazing what a little watering will do for the
flowers in a dry summer like this one.) Unfortunately, I didn't realize until
it was too late that one of the spokes holding the left rocker had come loose,
and that someone had tossed it away. (You know, it's really easy to reglue that
sort of thing before the whole frame collapses and the rattan tears--but I
suppose it does make handy kindling. I noticed there were only a couple of
beads of the carving left when I cleaned the fireplace.) But I didn't really
hurt myself--one always picks up a few bumps and scrapes around the house.
Many
thanks for the bottles of wine. I can see from all the empty cartons that you
must have enjoyed it too. Hope you're having a great summer's end.
As ever, etc.
Aug. 31, 1997
Dear
P's,
It struck me this morning
that you can see water from every window of the cottage. I noticed this as I
was moving the furniture on the second floor back into the bedrooms. It's easy
to sort out--as you've probably noticed, when restoring the paint on all the
old pieces, I color-matched them to the bedspreads and rugs. Oh, and don't
worry, I did finally find all the rugs. No doubt they'll dry out in time and be
as good as new. You know, it's not a bad idea to close the windows when it
rains.
Oh say, I
don't want to be intrusive, but if your guests do get into another knife fight
or whatever, it's really easy to get the blood splatters out of the white
frilled curtains if you wash them in cold water right away. (You can just throw
them in the washing machine, if the kids' sandy clothes haven't stripped the
gears yet.)
All the best, etc.
Sept. 3, 1997
Dear
P's,
I just thought I'd drop
another line to remind you for next year that the cottage is made of wood. The
shingles, the tongue-in-groove paneling, the polished-pine floors are all old
wood. That means they burn very easily. So: Do not lean the pleated shade on
the bedside lamp against the bulb while it is lighted. As you have no doubt
noticed after two such experiments in consecutive years, when you do that, the
shade melts and finally burns. Left long enough, the burning shade will set the
house on fire. I assume you leave the house when you conduct these little
trials, but there is always the chance that someone else may have lingered.
By the way, if you think of
it next year, don't let the kids remove the front legs of the pedestal sink in
the east bathroom and fill them with Q-Tips--children are so imaginative these
days! And if they must do it, try not to discard the peculiar bolt fittings, so
that I can put them back--they don't make that kind of sink anymore, so parts
are hard to find. Ditto the handles on the bureau drawers. I know they are old
and can come unscrewed. But the nut will always fall inside the drawer, so all
you have to do is thread it back on the screw and then tighten it. Well, I
suppose that's a bother on a vacation, but wouldn't it be just as easy to put
the whole thing inside the drawer as in the wastebasket? Speaking of
screwing--no, no, I'm not concerned about the mattresses--but did anyone ever
show you how to replace a light bulb? There are lots of brand new ones in the
sideboard in the dining room, and I would have thought you'd find it
inconvenient to read or wash dishes in the dark.
And, speaking of washing
dishes in the dark, the Italian cook you brought with you this year must be a
great chef. Of course, great cooks don't usually make great cleaners. But not
to worry, I'll get the grease off the pots and pans before we close the house
for the winter. What a good thing, though, that I happened to look under the
cast iron stove while searching for the corkscrew. Otherwise I'd never have
found the six bags of garlic and onions. They'll help fill up the composter,
which is really very empty after such a busy season--I guess you didn't have
time to mind all those recycling rules posted at the town hall.
Well,
have a great winter.
Sincerely, etc.
P.S. The mail just came.
How thoughtful of you to have paid the rent a whole year in advance. And the
timing couldn't be better, as I've just got the bills for the taxes and
insurance and the chapel and library and conservation society appeals and the
down payment on the roof re-shingling. I always tell myself how lucky I am to
have such wonderful guests as tenants.
