Sabbatical "Day One"

I am liv'n the dream!  The DaisInn is alive.  MY DaisInn.  Day One brought me hope and joy and excitement.  

It was a rather ordinary day to start.  A French Press of Casi Cielo. Fresh raspberries from the garden.  Couple slices of homemade bread. A stroll in the neighborhood and casual greetings with the neighbors, getting caught up on "Who's Who on Rose Street".  It was all very innocent and not entirely entertaining...but I listened, nodded, added my commentary just as State Farm Insurance's motto:  "Like a Good Neighbor."

The day got progressively better with a bit more activities.  We headed out for some skeet shooting.  "Pull!"  A loud bang from the shot gun preceded the "Thump" of the disk...  I regrouped. Repositioned.  Again, "PULLLLLL!"  Nothing humbles me like a flying clay disk, whispering "catch me if you can" in my ears.  Another "thump!"  Before my ego got too bruised, I opted for a more familiar target practice.  I like the concentration it requires.  The breathing, the aiming, the anticipation, the pull of the trigger, the recoil.  Every movement is deliberate and purposeful - nothing like Hollywood.  

Nursing the bruised ego by
going back to the more familiar 9mm...

Then the DaisInn came alive in the evening when the two Couch Surfers from the Czech Republic arrived.  Patrick and Kristina, by far, are our favorite guests who have Couch Surfed with us.  Warm, open, sincere. Good people.  They had supper with us:  Salad from the garden. Homemade sausages. Raspberries (everything seems to involve fresh raspberries these days.) Fresh bread.  They practically exclaimed in disbelief when I told them the bread is made from scratch.  "You make bread?  From scratch?" "Yes, as often as possible." I love feeding travelers, especially the adventurous ones who expect little.  It's what I do well, so why not. Selfishly, it's paying it forward:  What goes around, comes around. It always does.  It may be years later, but it always comes around.  

DaisInn opens early tomorrow.  I'm making blueberry muffins for breakfast and they are sure to please.  The Bed & Breakfast I longed to open when I was little is finally in business - only better.  There is never money exchange so I will never lose my shirt.  I choose my guests so no pesky whiners allowed.  And, I "work" only at my disposal. 

My home is not a motel.  My Couch Surfers are not fly-bys.  They are interesting, special guests Eric and I carefully selected so we all learn something from our exchange.  In return, they give me a platform to practice what I treasure most:  Expressing gratitude, welcome, and appreciation in actions.  I can't think of a better way to practice humanity.  

Kristina riding my bike

Patrick looking natural...

Sabbatical Day One is perfect.  

My DaisInn is alive.  

Perfectly clear, blue bird sky