a case for wonky

i do like to keep my blog positive, so that being said, i am positive i liked the way this place was before!  even the most chipper of us need to vent at times.  so pour yourself your favorite cuppa and prepare for story time.

once upon a time i frequented the most charming establishment by the coast which shall remain *nameless, but if you've visited, you will immediately know the place.  the front desk attendants knew your name and wore red tennis shoes.  a cat named after agatha christie curled around your ankles, and plants grew at wonky angles.  *for subtlety, think "friend of hemingway who also has a bookstore in paris named after her" and you've got it.   

dinner was family-style and it was not optional to play "two truths and a lie" with complete strangers.  at 10 pm you could count on drinking homemade hot spiced wine in the attic puzzle room.  the chairs were lumpy and the book stacks tipped perilously.  photos hung in mismatched frames.  

previous guests would leave gifts for you in the secret cubbies of each room and you would leave one in kind for the person after you.  countless journals filled in each room replete with years of personal entries and stories.  no pomp, no circumstance.  in short:  perfection.

in addition to being positive, i also endeavor to be open-minded.  so i googled the new place after its renovation and subsequent name change. in their defense, they've kept the place and done a nice job that will draw a certain clientele.  but i'm not sure how many of us returners they will get.  i thought about booking a room, giving it a go, but  i found it void of all personality. to make matters worse, everything in taupe and polished beyond all recognition.  i just can't.

does everyone really want marble countertops, stainless steel, and factory-boutique bedding?!  please tell me that whomever "everybody" is, that there are still somebody's like me out there who like to feel as though they have a cozy library room away from home to stay at?

ok, end of rant, sort of.  i feel better now.  at the risk of sounding old with "back in my day" tales, please please tell me that not everything has to be sterile and ragingly expensive. 

(call me old fashioned, but i still love postage stamps, mis-matched dishes, vintage books, bathtubs that maybe have a chip or two, and trailing plant leaves in unexpected places, preferably above said bathtub).  

please tell me there's still a place for genuine hospitality with a side of wonky for good measure.