Speaks for itself.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have any tooth paste? I must have forgotten to put mine in my overnight bag,” I politely asked the woman who owned the motel. She looked at me, with her hands on her hips and replied, “Well, I don’t have any per se, but I have some of my own and I could give you a squirt.”
I smiled, “sure, that will work, I’ll be down in a bit to get it from you.”
“Okay, just come find me in the lobby or outside and I will grab you some.”
It's the shadow me
“Thanks.” As I walked out onto the porch of the motel, the sun was just about down and a warm glow hovered in the air. I settled in a wicker rocker sitting in the corner of the small porch to finish my glass of wine, and watch the few people staying for the night, going in and out, back and forth to their cars. I knew that I liked this place. I felt like I was in a comfortable home. Her son, around 22, was over on the front lawn juggling with a friend of his from college. The owner had told me in a brief conversation that her twins were home working with her at the motel; it was a big help and they did what they could.
I noticed that the crickets had started chirping and over beyond the dirt parking lot, a fire was going, and a cozy party of 2 were gathered over there enjoying its warmth and companionship. I was tempted to go and check it out, but I didn’t really want to interfere on a private moment. Oh, well, I was just as content to sit here and watch.
I sipped on my wine, and thought. . What a great place. Non-abrasive, friendly, inviting…just what I was looking for on this night. From the moment I walked in that afternoon I felt welcomed. There was something oddly familiar as I scanned the walls where old family pictures and paintings of the mountains hung. They were suggestive of all the recreational activities to be done and the good times to be had here. The eclectic, mix-match of furniture was comfortably worn and inviting, in a pleasant kind of way. When I asked where I could eat, the motel “keeper”, gave me a nice overview on each place to choose from. She and I exchanged content smiles as she let me into her life, telling me a little about her father and mother who started the motel way back when..
View from the front porch
After an hour of rocking and watching on the porch, my eyes were getting droopy, speaking to the effects of the wine that had warmed me through. I sat there with my long sweater wrapped around me, enveloping me in a dreamy content. I needed to get to bed so that I was fresh for my big day on the mountain tomorrow. But first, the tooth paste…so I slipped back to my room, and decided that a plastic cup would work quite nicely as a container. When I got back to the lobby, my friend could not be found, but I did see her son. I went to him and explained, and he kindly took my cup and went inside to fill it. No problem.. When he came back, there were 2 slugs of toothpaste at the bottom of the cup, exactly what I was looking for. And as I headed down the long hall way to my room on the end, I couldn’t help but think, any place that would give me tooth paste in a cup, was well worth coming back to. Not only were they willing to give it, but I was willing to take it.
The friendly, slow manner, and the feel of it all…thank you Carol and family, at Carlson’s Motor Lodge, in Twin Mountain, New Hampshire. You made a most memorable night for a person who wanted to find a place to tuck away and just be… I’ll be back.
www.carlsonslodge.com, (603) 846-5501.
- Looking up the driveway
With Love,
It's Just Me, Kate 