My home away from my home away from home

So a couple months ago I mentioned some plumbing issues, just an off-hand phrase. But it turned out the issues were serious—damaged floors and drywall. I started an insurance claim. A company came and packed up all my belongings, except my piano and the few things I took with me, and tore up most of my flooring and quite a bit of the drywall up to four feet high. This is a sample of what my home looks like now:



My insurance company found me a home away from home: Marriott Towneplace Suites in Bellingham, Washington. Ever since I got back from Ashland, I've been living there in a studio-type room that has a bed, desk, couch, and "kitchenette." My dog is with me:



Tonight, however, I am at the Salish Lodge, in Snoqualmie, Washington. (My dog is at the Hyline Hotel for Dogs, in Everson, Washington.) I am spending one night here prior to attending a work conference tomorrow. Our company got a deal because the Lodge either is or recently was renovating and had unbooked rooms. When the conference ends tomorrow evening, I'll drive back to my home away from home.

Right now, my home away from my home away from home is lovely. My co-worker and I got here around 5:00 p.m. and checked in. I have a room to myself that has a door to a little balcony outside, from which I can hear, though not see, the Snoqualmie River and Falls. The Salish Lodge is a spa, though I won't have a chance to do the spa-type stuff. But in my own room is a deep tub with jets:



That's practically like a spa already. When I joined the conference-goers for dinner, we were all expressing excited anticipation of going back to our rooms and taking baths. What's more is the rooms have wood-burning fireplaces, and you can open sliding screens to be able to see the fireplace from the tub.



I came back from dinner a few hours ago. The co-worker I came here with had advised me that she had asked if a hotel employee could light the fireplace for guests, and the answer was yes. I was glad to hear that. The instructions about opening the damper, lighting a rolled up newspaper, and holding it up the chimney to warm it up so it would draw were quite intimidating. So I called the front desk and shortly a friendly young fellow knocked at my door. He came in bearing a blow torch, and he used it to blow flames up the chimney and warm it up, then he used it to light the fire. I thanked him and he departed.




I went in the bathroom to plan my tub strategy, and when I came back out, the room had filled with smoke and next thing I knew my smoke alarm started beeping. I called the front desk and told them the situation, and while we were speaking the beeping stopped. They advised me to open the windows, but asked me please not to open the door to the hallway. I opened the door and windows onto the deck and maybe that breeze blew the smoke towards the alarm because it started beeping again. Then the phone rang and someone knocked at the door. I answered the door and it was the friendly young man who lit the fire. He was carrying a stepladder and apologized for the smoke as he came in, climbed the ladder, and took the battery out of the smoke alarm. Then he answered the phone because he knew who it was and told them everything was fine. He left to find me a fan, which he set up for me by the open door.



This is me waiting for the smoke to dissipate, still smiling because after all I'm staying in a lovely room and looking forward to a luxurious bath:



It did not take long for the smoke to clear, and I closed the door and windows and the drapes, and went ahead with the jetted tub experience. I opened the screens but ended up not paying much attention to the fire from the tub.



I loved the bath. The hardest part was lowering myself down to sit in the tub, which was a movement much like sitting on the floor. I am not someone who sits on the floor or gets up again with ease and grace. There usually is an unsightly struggle and much uncoordinated movement, accompanied by groans. However, with the aid of a grab bar, I managed not to injure myself getting in or out of the tub. Try not to form a mental picture.

This hotel is so fancy that a terrycloth robe and some slippers were in the closet for my use, so now I am cozily blogging by firelight swathed in the robe and towels. Soon I'll go to bed by firelight. My home away from my home away from home is a happy home.