The next morning I woke early, ready to face the day. No one was in the house that I could tell. No note, no coffee pot in sight with access to the makings of my morning cup. I found a rickety umbrella and headed out in search of a coffee shop...in the dark...in the rain. I was grateful for a nearby Denny's (I've never been grateful for a Denny's) where I had coffee and breakfast and time to think. I wrote in my journal, trying to sort my feelings and weigh my options. My first instinct was to run. I asked myself if that was always my first instinct. I was bemoaning the fact that I would miss Christmas with Adie and Mike and my new grand dog, Charlie. Much of what I wrote as I sat there with the regulars, was pep talk stuff. I remembered my friend Judy’s advice, “You have the means to get out of any situation you’re in if turns out to be not okay.” Was this one of those? I was in no danger unless you count ant bites. Eventually, full of coffee and breakfast and some resolve, I decided to give Vivien a chance. Maybe I'd get on the Bernie bandwagon…stumping for him might be kind of fun. I steeled myself to go back, determined to discuss the room situation with Vivien.
When I arrived, there was still no one around. Without the password for the wifi I couldn't get online and attempt to avoid the uneasy feelings that were creeping back in so I decided to make myself useful and clean up the kitchen a bit.
The one light fixture that worked and a bit of cloudy gray daylight making its way in were enough to see the kitchen in all its disgusting glory. HOLY CRAP!!!! There was no way the three huge, stainless steel industrial size sinks full of dirty water and pans and dishes were left from a dinner (or even five huge dinners) that someone had recently prepared. The pots, pans, dishes, utensils, glasses and coffee cups must have been accumulating for weeks. WEEKS. The dishes from the night before had not been scraped or dealt with. The leftover chicken was likely stuffed into the full and filthy (God-I-don't-want-to-look-inside) refrigerator. There were 5 or 6 lidless steel pots on the floor with scraps of food which I assumed were for the compost pile; a few of them overflowed and were serving the thriving ant community. Restaurant bus tubs filled with dirty glasses and dishes and coffee cups (where did they get the damn coffee?) were on the floor under the sinks and tucked beneath and on top of the island in the center of the kitchen.
A lesser woman (or smarter one?) might have bolted right then. But because I was there to work for Vivien, I was determined to show her how amazing I am. My hope was that she would realize I am worthy of an actual bedroom. Also, I really like to have things clean. So I found and apron, rolled up my sleeves and went to work.
Four hours later, the dishes were done and the sinks clean. Four hours of washing dishes. FOUR HOURS! In one kitchen! I was sweeping the floor when Babar came in. He said nothing about the kitchen except that while he's here, he likes to use the same dishes over and over so "this will be my space" and he put two little bowls and a fork and spoon on the butcher block cart that I had cleared. Not a word about the fact that space now actually existed where he could put his stuff. He asked me if Vivien had given me any direction about answering the phones and I told him I hadn't seen her yet today...it was after 1:00. He tried chatting me up about politics and Pakistan for a while then walked out into the nether regions of the mammoth house and I never saw him again. I was drying and stacking some of the last dishes from my marathon cleaning session when Vivien walked in and said acerbically, "Well, it looks like you figured out what needed to be done around here" and walked out. (Mom?)
I wasn't looking for a medal, but a tiny bit of gratitude would have gone a long way. I picked my jaw up off the floor and followed her to ask for the internet codes. I think I decided right then I wouldn't be staying. She gave me the codes then went into a bedroom and closed the door. For half an hour I tried, couldn't get on and finally knocked on her bedroom door to let her know. Apparently I woke her up from a nap. It was an effort for her to keep from being surly with me as she let me know I must have put the wrong password in. I had not. She messed around with the cable connections that were in a small room on the next floor up and I was able to bring up the internet just long enough for her to make her way back to her bedroom and shut the door before it stopped working again. Ugh.
So on my phone (yes, I'm am grateful my family talked me into getting a smart phone) I searched Airbnb for a place nearby that could take me in last minute, a week before Christmas. I contacted a few hosts with openings for the next few nights and called (but got no answer) the only place in town that rented cars, then packed up my stuff and left it in the room, ready to go when I returned...hopefully with a car. The rain softened and had thankfully quit by the time I reached the dealership...no cars available for the next four days. I needed to stay at a place in Fort Bragg within reasonable walking distance. For some reason, I never considered looking for cab companies in the area. Small town girl goes to the big(?) city.
As I walked, I thought Fort Bragg might be a nice little town to explore. Set on the Mendocino Coast with gorgeous shoreline, it boasts a famous tourist attraction called Glass Beach. I walked past of few restaurants/microbreweries which looked promising that I made note of. I was lucky and within an hour or so, got a reply from a woman (Adriane!) on Airbnb who could take me for three nights. I laughed out loud when I read her text saying I needed to cut her some slack because she had been baking and her house wasn't very clean at the moment. I think I told her I'd clean it myself if she wanted me to, it can't be as bad as where I had just stayed!
I had been walking for a couple hours and was pretty tired once I got back to the inn to pick up my things. I hadn't eaten anything but a Kind nut bar since my Denny's breakfast but figured I'd get settled in and walk to town for dinner.
I made my way back to the inn and left a note (I'm not a fan of confrontation) on the kitchen counter telling Vivian I wouldn't be staying with her...the ants in my room were just a bit much and I wasn't up to living in the filth...or something like that. I slithered out the back door past all the compost pots I had put on the little screened 'garbage porch' then looked back with a sigh of good riddance.
Directions from Adriane(!) had me walking 8 blocks east and about 7 south from the inn. Piece of cake. At about 6 blocks into my escape, I remembered that the Pacific Ocean would be to the west of me as I was walking, not the east. This makes a big difference when deciphering which direction north and south are, by the way. Yes, I had my phone but my brain cells needed nourishment and my emotions were in charge over my intelligence I guess. Schlepping my 20 pound backpack around would have been no big deal had I not also packed a wheeled suitcase that weighed another 25. It was during this 15 block walk (once I realized which way I should have been walking) that I remembered why I hated that small wheeled suitcase I would be traveling with for the next 4 months or so...the handle is too long for me to wheel it comfortably. Ugh. By the time I reached my destination there was barely enough 'sunlight' to see and I was famished and exhausted.
My host, Adriane(!) could see what a wreck I was and offered to make dinner for us when the baking was done. An angel! I gratefully, sheepishly replied, "Yes thank you." A yummy Mexican egg dish and conversation filled my belly and relaxed my nerves. We talked for a couple hours and got to know each other a bit. When I climbed into the comfy queen size bed topped with luxurious bedding and the fluffiest down comforter ever, I dove with relief into a warm, dreamless night of blissful (and ant free) sleep.
Two days into the agreed upon airbnb stay of three nights, Adriane and I had begun to form a friendship for which I am eternally grateful. As I was trying to figure out my next step (I had planned to stay at the inn for three weeks) she asked me what it was I needed and the arrangement was made which had me staying to help with the renters coming while Adriane left to visit her mother for the holidays. My three day Hail Mary stay at the most adorable craftsman style home with the very talented weaver, Adriane became a ten day haven where I could regroup, feel useful, make a friend and get ideas that may (or may not) be implemented upon my return home to Michigan. Hi to Adriane's husband, Mark in the garage apartment:-) and to Moxie, my new cat friend.
This was my home for 10 days in Fort Bragg, CA. I wish I had taken some pics of the ant room for comparison, but it really never occurred to me. And sadly, I didn't even get a picture of Adriane or Mark or Moxie. But I think I will see my Fort Bragg friends again.
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