BED AND BREAKFAST: A HOME-STYLE BUSINESS

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I had stayed in bed-and-breakfast cottages in the British Isles during previous summers and had loved the low cost arid casual atmosphere they provided . . . and the chance to mix with the local citizens. I guess I felt a sort of obligation to return tire favor to fellow travelers when our fancily acquired a 100-year-old, two-story Victorian house that had an extra room we almost never used.

My husband—being a gregarious sort and an excellent breakfast cook—was delighted to take on the "hospitality" part of the job during the summer. (He's a high school teacher and has those months "off", while I work throughout the year.)

We began our adventure by placing art ad in the classified section of MOTHER. We felt that this periodical would speak to the type of people we'd like to have visit us (and who'd be likely to try an unfamiliar form of travel accommodation). The advertisement cost about $50 . . . and was published in early summer We received six responses almost immediately after the magazine hit the newsstands.

My husband and I had composed a letter of introduction, which we sent to each of the respondents. In tire note we described our arrangement, our location in relation to tourist attractions (in our case these included the World's Fair, the Great Smoky Mountains, and MOTHER's own Eco-Village), and our charges ($18.50 for a single adult, $32.50 for two adults, and special rates for children).

About half the folks replied to our letter. We requested a one-night deposit to confirm any reservation (with the promise of a full refund if we were notified of cancellation at least seven days before the scheduled visit, and a return of all but $10 if we were notified less titan a week before).

When the flurry of inquiries and letters died down, one couple—a mother and her 15 year-old daughter-made a confirmed reservation for three nights' lodging. We were delighted . . . their visit would cover the cost of the ad and then some, and we'd get a chance to meet some interesting people while giving them a comfortable, friendly place to sleep and have breakfast! Furthermore, this one-time venture would also give us art opportunity to see how we'd like having strangers in the house . . . and to decide whether we might later want to tackle a booked-solid summer of guests.

I sent a map directing the pair to our home, and my husband and I spent a lull Saturday cleaning the room . . . putting in fragrant flowers . . . sprucing up the large old-fashioned bathroom (complete with a claw-footed tub) . . . and stocking up on eggs, cereal, and milk. When our—guests arrived late in the afternoon of the following Saturday, we were sitting on the front porch ready to greet them. Our visitors turned out to be most pleasant . . . they were neat, ate a light breakfast (and were thrilled by our homemade bread acrd jam), left early in the day for sightseeing, and returned in the evening to have a soak in the tub, read a bit, and retire early. During their three-day stay, they sometimes joined us in the rockers on the porch and chatted.

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