At 7:15 this morning at 217 E. Huntingdon Street, Savannah, Georgia, the booming sound of a cannon being fired followed immediately by power loss, interrupted the breakfast preparation at Azalea Inn and Gardens for the next 90 minutes. Innkeeper Teresa Jacobson uttered an expletive of a gentle Southern nature then quickly set about getting one last pot of coffee a drippin’ – she knew that contraption would have enough super-hot water to push one more precious pot through. Three pots of coffee, 20 guests…. could mean trouble.
Jake (her husband and occasional “Juice Boy”) strode through the back door to announce that a member of the de Squirrel family had taken out the transformer… again. Quickly assessing the situation, Teresa ordered Jake to “Fire up the grill” and looked up in time to see Kolin letting himself through the front door. Kolin was assigned to finishing the herbed potatoes on the gas stovetop and to prep the fruit. Teresa scooped two of three Chicken-Broccoli Quiches out of the oven and fairly ran down the hall to the backyard grill. The temperature had only reached 350, so leaving Jake in charge of fine-tuning the temp and guarding the quiches, she turned quickly and trotted back to the kitchen. Jake had already brought up from the basement the only non-electric powered coffee maker in the house – a glass drip contraption that takes easily 20 minutes to make a pot with tortuous administration of dollops of water – but there were 20 coffee drinkers in the house and surely mayhem would ensue if not provided with the morning sustenance!
In the meantime, potatoes progressed, quiches puffed nicely, coffee laboriously brewed, and watermelon and kiwi were prepared for the plates – though we did change the plan a bit. The white-chocolate cranberry scones would not be ready for the first seating – oh well – I simply erased it off the menu! The breakfast table was full of merriment as a fire alarm kept ringing off and on in a first floor room – the shower was creating too much steam and with no exhaust, the poor wife kept opening the room door and fanning it back and forth until the alarm stopped only to start up again when she shut the door. We told the story of the unfortunate critter each time a guest came down for coffee and chuckled at the obvious observations of possibilities – squirrel stew, squirrel fricassee, etc. The third quiche made it to the grill shortly before the first breakfast guests arrived, and after setting breakfast on the table Teresa zipped out to the grill with the first batch of scones and managed to deliver a plate full to the table shortly before the second seating arrived. They were heavenly and just what we all needed – a sweet pick-me-up!
During the second seating we again recounted the story, and continued to point the way to the corpse of the culprit – how very odd that everyone wanted to see the scoundrel. One gentleman, a funny fellow, stated his heart felt heavy with sadness over the squirrel’s untimely demise. What could l do? Grief counseling? Well, tonight from 5 to 6 pm we will have a poolside memorial for young Kami during which wine and hors d’ouevres will be served. Amen.