The Leaky Lightbulb

We are officially Innkeepers.
Or because there aren't any guests yet, are we keeping the Inn?
Or maybe we are officially in an Inn that we may or may not keep. We have the year to figure that out.
Most of the time I am excited. I wander through the dozens of rooms rearranging furniture and imagining fresh paint on the walls or thinking of which photographs to hang where.

Today I unpacked my duffel bag that I've packed and unpacked about nine times this year. I hung up my new favorite top and my cozy red sweater that is starting to pull and pill and stretch and lose its buttons. I placed my running shoes next to my sea boots in the cotton candy pink closet we will paint if we have time and I hope that I will have time this summer to use those shoes and boots. My frozen wool clad feet are dreaming of daffodil covered fields and the warm dirt of my garden, worms between my toes and seaweed sticky on my ankles.

I stacked the magazines in piles of importance, catalogs going into a special pile of: Maybe these magazines will hold the key about cheaply redecorating an 160 year old B&B with shabby furniture and pastel paint and lots of, um, character.
Like the leaky light bulb.
Yes, leaky.
No, actually, the water is totally sealed inside the white crusty metal and glass of the light bulb. But water should not be in a light bulb. Or in the ceiling of the first floor, leaving rings around the ancient light fixture. So we called the owners to let them know of our concern and one of them said, "Oh just plug a new one in. If the electricity's a problem, it will just blow out the bulb."
Hmmm. We thought it was an interesting non-answer too.
Not being one to mix water and electricity, except on a sea going vessel of course, I have decided that we will not yet try the 'plug and blow out' solution.

Maybe we should have the island electrician on speed dial.

So as you may imagine, the fun is just beginning. And while I may hem and haw and complain about the owners and freak out about money and paint and refinishing furniture and ordering bulk supplies from the mainland, I am excited.

Excuse me while I go stoke the wood stove for the tenth time today and then sit in front of it sipping hot cocoa and contemplating leaky light bulbs and thousands of paint chips.