By Martha Hyams
The door of the guest room opens and shuts quickly, almost silently. Cher le Bouvier de Flandres, appears downstairs in the living room where I’m still in my bathrobe, writing in my journal, enjoying the silence. I’m working on my ten commandments for guests.
The sight of Cher inspires rule onumber one: NO dogs.
Rule number two: NO one may stay longer than three days unless he/she lives far enough away (i.e. more than five hundred miles) to justify investing in airfare.
The Bouvier and her owners live in Connecticut, about two hundred miles from us. Way below the cut-off. Cher has to do her stuff and I’m the only one around to let her out. They aren’t the first guests to think that since I have a dog it must be okay to bring theirs. During their weeklong stay, the dog tears up two screen doors.
I add rule three: If the guest does fly, he/she/they must provide their own transportation to my house or at least to Provincetown from Logan or Greene.
Ronnie and I are besieged with guests, beginning around Memorial Day and ending on Columbus Day. Sometimes we get a couple of weeks off in the middle. Our friends Cathy and Dick have been quite considerate. They entertain themselves, buy food, cook meals and take us out to dinner at the restaurant of our choice at least once during their visit. Cathy will come down in the morning, see me writing, wave and without a word jump into her car, returning with something scrumptious from Connie’s for our morning coffee. In the afternoons they leave to go to the beach, a whale watch or a dune ride. I’m happy to see them when they get back. Their exemplary behavior gives inspiration to rule number four: Guests must leave the house without us for at least three hours every day.
Unfortunately, Linda and Dick also give birth to rule number five: All fighting must be done off- premises. I should have seen this one coming. When I heard them arrive, I watched from the window. Dick got out of the car moaning about how much pain he’s in. “Oh God, I didn’t think I’d make it. This knee is gonna give out any minute. Holy shit! Look at that garden. Martha must work her ass off. All you do is grow weeds.” He laughs, “You’re the slug in the garden. Christ! Look at this place.”
One morning neither of them comes downstairs. When Cathy appears at noon she pours herself a cup of coffee, slams it down on the kitchen table and breaks it. While I’m cleaning up the mess she says, “Dick isn’t coming downstairs today.” I’m not interested, but she supplies the information anyway. “He’s sulking because I won’t have sex with him. Your bed makes a lot of noise and it’s embarrassing.”
I leave the mess and go off to grab my notebook. I write down rule number six: All sulking, and while I’m at it sex, must be done somewhere else.
Rule number seven: Guests are not allowed to use my washer and dryer. When Elizabeth and Peter visit with their two children, Elizabeth does laundry every day, including the sheets, towels and quilts the four of them use. One day I plan to outsmart her by putting a load in the washing machine before they get up. Then I leave for work. When I come home, I find my wet laundry piled on the ironing board.
The same family inspires rules eight and nine, eight being that no prayers are to be said out loud at dinner. Ronnie and I have great respect for the various religious beliefs of our guests. We are not, however, engage in formal prayer. We don’t mind if our guests bow their heads and silently thank whomever they wish. Rule number nine: Guests should harbor no expectation, nor should they request that we join hands with them before dinner for a silent grace.
Four years ago my stepdaughter, Laura, her husband and their two daughters visited over the Fourth of July weekend. Imagine my surprise when five people got out of the car. Laura had decided to bring her mother-in-law. In private, after dinner, she explains how Terry, the mother-in-law, whines endlessly about never getting away and now the kids will be gone for a few days and she’ll be lonely over the holiday weekend. Laura says it was easier to bring her. Otherwise they might have had to take her to Florida with them on their winter vacation.
I flash on a divorced friend of mine from New York who, without warning, showed up with Sal, a new boyfriend, a jeweler in Manhattan. Sal left with the string of pearls I got for my high school graduation. Rule number ten: Guests are not allowed to bring guests of their own, particularly people we’ve never met.
These visitors are all my friends and they call during the off-season. They ask me what I do in the winter.
I answer, “What do you do in the winter?’
“Work.”
“I work too.”
“Go to movies”
“I go to movies also.”
“Go out to eat with friends.”
“Me too.”
“Go to the gym, go for walks, exercise.”
“Hey! So do I.”
What I don’t tell them is that I spend three seasons of the year recovering from and preparing for the period between Memorial Day and Columbus Day. During that time I entertain fantasies of delivering the Ten Commandments to my guests, like Moses descending from Mt. Sinai with the word of God.
The door of the guest room opens and shuts quickly, almost silently. Cher le Bouvier de Flandres, appears downstairs in the living room where I’m still in my bathrobe, writing in my journal, enjoying the silence. I’m working on my ten commandments for guests.
The sight of Cher inspires rule onumber one: NO dogs.
Rule number two: NO one may stay longer than three days unless he/she lives far enough away (i.e. more than five hundred miles) to justify investing in airfare.
The Bouvier and her owners live in Connecticut, about two hundred miles from us. Way below the cut-off. Cher has to do her stuff and I’m the only one around to let her out. They aren’t the first guests to think that since I have a dog it must be okay to bring theirs. During their weeklong stay, the dog tears up two screen doors.
I add rule three: If the guest does fly, he/she/they must provide their own transportation to my house or at least to Provincetown from Logan or Greene.
Ronnie and I are besieged with guests, beginning around Memorial Day and ending on Columbus Day. Sometimes we get a couple of weeks off in the middle. Our friends Cathy and Dick have been quite considerate. They entertain themselves, buy food, cook meals and take us out to dinner at the restaurant of our choice at least once during their visit. Cathy will come down in the morning, see me writing, wave and without a word jump into her car, returning with something scrumptious from Connie’s for our morning coffee. In the afternoons they leave to go to the beach, a whale watch or a dune ride. I’m happy to see them when they get back. Their exemplary behavior gives inspiration to rule number four: Guests must leave the house without us for at least three hours every day.
Unfortunately, Linda and Dick also give birth to rule number five: All fighting must be done off- premises. I should have seen this one coming. When I heard them arrive, I watched from the window. Dick got out of the car moaning about how much pain he’s in. “Oh God, I didn’t think I’d make it. This knee is gonna give out any minute. Holy shit! Look at that garden. Martha must work her ass off. All you do is grow weeds.” He laughs, “You’re the slug in the garden. Christ! Look at this place.”
One morning neither of them comes downstairs. When Cathy appears at noon she pours herself a cup of coffee, slams it down on the kitchen table and breaks it. While I’m cleaning up the mess she says, “Dick isn’t coming downstairs today.” I’m not interested, but she supplies the information anyway. “He’s sulking because I won’t have sex with him. Your bed makes a lot of noise and it’s embarrassing.”
I leave the mess and go off to grab my notebook. I write down rule number six: All sulking, and while I’m at it sex, must be done somewhere else.
Rule number seven: Guests are not allowed to use my washer and dryer. When Elizabeth and Peter visit with their two children, Elizabeth does laundry every day, including the sheets, towels and quilts the four of them use. One day I plan to outsmart her by putting a load in the washing machine before they get up. Then I leave for work. When I come home, I find my wet laundry piled on the ironing board.
The same family inspires rules eight and nine, eight being that no prayers are to be said out loud at dinner. Ronnie and I have great respect for the various religious beliefs of our guests. We are not, however, engage in formal prayer. We don’t mind if our guests bow their heads and silently thank whomever they wish. Rule number nine: Guests should harbor no expectation, nor should they request that we join hands with them before dinner for a silent grace.
Four years ago my stepdaughter, Laura, her husband and their two daughters visited over the Fourth of July weekend. Imagine my surprise when five people got out of the car. Laura had decided to bring her mother-in-law. In private, after dinner, she explains how Terry, the mother-in-law, whines endlessly about never getting away and now the kids will be gone for a few days and she’ll be lonely over the holiday weekend. Laura says it was easier to bring her. Otherwise they might have had to take her to Florida with them on their winter vacation.
I flash on a divorced friend of mine from New York who, without warning, showed up with Sal, a new boyfriend, a jeweler in Manhattan. Sal left with the string of pearls I got for my high school graduation. Rule number ten: Guests are not allowed to bring guests of their own, particularly people we’ve never met.
These visitors are all my friends and they call during the off-season. They ask me what I do in the winter.
I answer, “What do you do in the winter?’
“Work.”
“I work too.”
“Go to movies”
“I go to movies also.”
“Go out to eat with friends.”
“Me too.”
“Go to the gym, go for walks, exercise.”
“Hey! So do I.”
What I don’t tell them is that I spend three seasons of the year recovering from and preparing for the period between Memorial Day and Columbus Day. During that time I entertain fantasies of delivering the Ten Commandments to my guests, like Moses descending from Mt. Sinai with the word of God.