0:01

Welcome to Bedtime

0:03

Stories for Everyone,

0:07

in which nothing much

0:09

happens, you

0:11

feel good, and then

0:14

you fall asleep. I'm

0:17

Catherine Nikolay. I

0:19

read and write all the stories

0:22

you hear and nothing much

0:24

happens. Audio

0:27

Engineering is by Bob Witttersheim.

0:31

We give to a different charity

0:34

each week, and

0:36

this week we are giving to World's

0:38

Central Kitchen, providing

0:41

meals in response to humanitarian,

0:44

climate and community crises.

0:49

Learn more about them in

0:51

our show notes. Our

0:55

goal is to be here for you throughout

0:58

the day, throughout your

1:00

life,

1:03

when you need a soft landing into

1:05

dreams away

1:07

to get centered and practice

1:09

useful techniques for equanimity,

1:14

and when you need a trip to the village

1:17

where kindness is commonplace and

1:20

small pleasures are enjoyed.

1:24

So we have three shows for thatches,

1:27

three for now, Who knows

1:29

what will dream up next? To

1:33

start your day with a ten minute guided

1:35

meditation, Subscribe to First

1:38

This for

1:40

a livelier, immersive daytime

1:43

version of our tales. Search

1:45

for stories from the village of Nothing

1:48

Much, and

1:50

of course, let me tuck

1:52

you in at bed time. Here

1:54

on Nothing Much Happens. You

1:57

can listen to everything for free.

2:00

Write where you are listening now, or

2:03

support us by joining our premium

2:06

channels. Learn more

2:08

at Nothing Much Happens dot com or

2:11

the links in our show notes. Now

2:17

the story's work by

2:20

occupying just enough

2:22

of your mind to keep

2:24

it from wandering. If

2:27

we can find a point of soft focus,

2:31

we have a clear path to sleep.

2:35

All you need to do is listen. Just

2:38

follow along with the sound of my voice.

2:43

I'll tell the story twice,

2:46

and I'll go a little slower second

2:49

time through. If

2:52

you wake again in the night, turn

2:55

it back on. You'll

2:58

drop right back off

3:00

again, usually within seconds.

3:05

And if you're new to this, know

3:08

that this training will improve with

3:10

use, so be patient,

3:14

give it time to work. Our

3:18

story tonight is

3:20

called the Backstairs,

3:24

and it's a story about a bit of

3:26

spring cleaning at the Inn by

3:29

the Lake. It's

3:32

also about the special features

3:34

and details of old houses,

3:39

clever engineering, the

3:42

honesty of patina, and

3:45

a space where imperfection is

3:48

welcome. Now

3:54

lights out, campers, snuggle

3:57

down and get as comfortable

4:00

as you can. The

4:04

day is done.

4:06

Whatever it was is

4:09

what it was, and

4:12

now we are here. I'll

4:17

take the next watch so

4:20

you can let everything relax.

4:25

Draw a full, deep breath

4:28

in through your nose and

4:33

sigh from your mouth again.

4:39

Breathe in, let

4:43

it out good.

4:52

The backstairs. These

4:56

old houses, especially

5:00

the big ones, they

5:04

have a lot of forgotten features

5:07

that newer houses just

5:10

don't come with anymore. Some

5:14

are easy to see, like

5:17

the backstairs, a

5:20

less pretty but more functional

5:23

set than the grand front

5:25

staircase in the entryway,

5:29

or the transom windows that

5:31

have let light into the inner

5:34

rooms since

5:36

before the place was wired for electricity.

5:41

But some are less obvious,

5:45

like the dumb waiter that might be

5:47

mistaken for a cupboard in the hall

5:51

till you open its doors to find

5:53

a tray of food sent up from the kitchen.

5:57

And some are actually hidden

6:00

in the walls, as

6:02

the call bell system was, which

6:05

we'd only uncovered while mending

6:07

some plumbing. We

6:11

freed the chimes and replaced

6:13

the wires, and now

6:17

I can step on a button beside

6:19

my desk to signal chef

6:21

down in the kitchen the

6:24

guests are arriving, or

6:26

that the produced delivery truck is

6:29

trundling down the drive. If

6:34

I was just a householder

6:37

living here, I don't

6:39

imagine I'd have

6:42

too much call to ring the bells

6:45

or to load the breakfast dishes into

6:47

the dumb waiter. But

6:50

I am not just a householder.

6:54

I am lucky. I

6:56

am an innkeeper. I

7:00

look after my guests, and

7:03

I look after this great old

7:05

house. It

7:08

wouldn't suit every one, but it

7:11

suits me perfectly. I

7:15

look forward to the busy summer days

7:19

when every room is filled, and

7:22

I rise early to pour coffee

7:24

for diners on the porch in

7:27

between handing out beach towels

7:29

and welcoming new guests at the

7:31

reception desk. In

7:35

the off season, when the inn

7:38

is closed or has

7:41

just a couple of rooms booked, I

7:44

enjoy the quiet and rest.

7:48

I read books, I

7:50

sit with my cat, Sycamore, and

7:54

watch the ducks swimming on the lake. Besides

8:00

the weekend of Valentine's, when

8:02

we'd opened for a few days,

8:06

when the whole second floor and

8:08

most of the third had been full,

8:12

we were still in rest and

8:15

relaxation mode.

8:18

But all of that was about to

8:20

change.

8:23

In a week our regular season

8:25

would begin. I

8:29

was glad we weren't booked solid

8:31

right at the start.

8:34

May was an excellent month

8:37

to come to the Inn, but for

8:39

many kids were still in

8:42

school, the weather

8:44

wasn't quite warm enough to swim

8:46

and boat, but it

8:49

just didn't feel like summer vacation yet.

8:54

There was a chance for us to ease

8:56

ourselves into our routines,

9:01

for Chef to test out new recipes,

9:06

for the vegetable garden to begin to grow,

9:09

and for Sycamore to learn more about

9:12

being a good host.

9:17

He'd come to me in the late autumn

9:19

of last year, so

9:21

this would be his first summer as

9:24

an innkeeper an

9:28

in catter as it were. There

9:33

was a chore I needed to take care

9:35

of before our guests arrived.

9:40

It had to do with some of those details

9:43

of old houses I'd mentioned

9:45

earlier, both

9:48

the obvious and less obvious

9:51

sort in the same location.

9:56

When guests came down the long

9:58

gravel drive today the inn, they

10:02

entered the big front doors and

10:04

stepped into our entryway, a

10:08

pretty paneled space with

10:11

a dramatic sweeping staircase

10:15

that carried them and their luggage

10:18

up to our guest rooms.

10:22

But when they came back down, especially

10:26

when they came down for breakfast or

10:29

to head out to the lake, they

10:32

came down the backstairs, which

10:36

were less ornate, though

10:38

still well crafted, on

10:42

which brought them to the back of the inn,

10:45

where we served coffee and

10:48

meals on a screened

10:50

in porch overlooking the

10:52

water. When

10:56

the house was built twenty

10:58

years before the start of the

11:01

twentieth century, these

11:05

stairs were most likely not

11:08

used by the wealthy family

11:10

that lived here maids,

11:14

cooks. I imagine

11:18

even a butler would have

11:20

used them to carry tea trays and

11:23

deliver messages, and

11:26

probably to hide out and

11:28

have a few moments to themselves.

11:33

As someone who serves in

11:36

this house, I

11:38

care about these stairs and

11:41

the people who had climbed

11:43

them back then, as

11:45

well as the ones who did today.

11:50

So every spring I

11:52

spent an afternoon sweeping and

11:55

dusting, polishing

11:58

up the wood till it, and

12:01

relaying the runner and carpet

12:04

rails. Sycamore

12:08

was helping in a sense.

12:11

He was keeping me company. He

12:16

had one of his tiny stuffed

12:18

mice in his mouth, and

12:21

every once in a while he'd

12:24

set it down in front of me, sit

12:28

back on his rear legs and

12:30

shadow box with it. He'd

12:34

swing his paws in a mock fight

12:38

until I caught on, and

12:41

I'd flick the mouse down the stairs.

12:46

It tumbled to the next landing,

12:49

and he'd chase after it. A

12:53

midnight black streak with

12:56

green eyes. Once

13:00

he caught it, he'd chew on

13:02

it, batted around,

13:07

maybe even lay his head down

13:09

on it and doze

13:12

till I made my way with my

13:14

polishing rag and broom down

13:17

to where he was, and

13:20

we'd go again. In

13:24

the corner of each step

13:27

was the other old

13:29

house feature less

13:32

obvious one.

13:35

It was a small brass triangle

13:39

that fitted right into the

13:41

space where the bottom

13:43

of the riser met the wall.

13:48

It was called a dust corner, and

13:52

like you might have guessed, it

13:55

kept dust out of the corner

13:58

of the stair. If

14:02

you've ever tried to work a broom

14:04

into that space, you

14:07

know how tricky it is to clean out. Well.

14:12

The housekeepers of the past must

14:15

have pointed that out to a clever

14:17

inventor at some point, because

14:21

if you look closely, a lot

14:23

of old houses have these.

14:28

Since they were brass, they

14:30

could be polished up to

14:32

look absolutely brand

14:35

new. And

14:38

when we renovated the inn many

14:40

years ago, that's what I

14:42

did. I'd

14:45

replaced the missing ones and

14:48

polished the old ones till they

14:50

were indistinguishable, and

14:54

they had been very pretty, but

14:58

there was something about them just

15:00

didn't feel like they fit with

15:03

the backstairs. The

15:06

bid of Petina. A

15:09

less perfect shine seemed

15:11

fitting for these stairs, where

15:13

things were allowed to

15:16

not be perfect.

15:20

So I dusted and swept

15:24

and warmed the wood railings with oil,

15:27

but left the honest age as

15:30

I went. As

15:33

I made my way to the bottom of the

15:36

stairs, the end

15:38

of my chore in sight, I

15:41

heard chef out on the porch. I

15:46

stuck my head through the doorway and

15:49

saw them setting down a platter of sandwiches

15:52

on a table, along

15:55

with some glasses and napkins.

15:59

Go wash your hand and come eat, they

16:01

called, and

16:04

I gratefully pushed into the butler's

16:06

pantry and turned on the sink. I

16:11

heard the tinkle of Sycamore's bell

16:14

as he went out to see what else Chef

16:16

had made.

16:20

I pulled up my chair and looked

16:22

out at the sun shimmering

16:24

on the lake. I

16:28

was so grateful for this old house

16:31

and the ones who came to share it with

16:34

me. The

16:38

backstairs. These

16:44

old houses, especially

16:48

the big ones, they

16:52

have a lot of forgotten

16:54

features that newer

16:56

houses just

16:59

don't come with anymore. Some

17:03

are easy to see,

17:06

like the backstairs, a

17:09

less pretty but more

17:12

functional set than

17:14

the grand front staircase in

17:17

the entryway, or

17:21

the transom windows that

17:24

have let light into

17:26

the inner rooms since

17:30

before the place was wired

17:33

for electricity. But

17:37

some are less obvious, like

17:41

the dumb waiter that might

17:44

be mistaken for a cupboard

17:46

in the hall till

17:49

you open its doors to

17:52

find a tray of food

17:55

sent up from the kitchens. And

18:00

some are actually hidden in

18:02

the walls, as

18:05

the call bell system was, which

18:09

we only uncovered while

18:13

mending some plumbing. We

18:18

freed the chimes and

18:21

replaced the wires, and

18:24

now I can step

18:26

on a button beside my desk to

18:29

signal chef down in the kitchen

18:33

the guests are arriving, or

18:36

that the produced delivery truck is

18:39

trundling down the drive. If

18:45

I was just a householder living

18:48

here, I

18:51

don't imagine I'd have

18:54

too much call to

18:57

ring the bells or

19:00

to load breakfast dishes into

19:03

the dumb waiter. But

19:06

I am not just a

19:08

householder. I

19:11

am lucky. I

19:13

am an innkeeper. I

19:19

look after my guests,

19:22

and I look after this great old

19:25

house. It

19:29

wouldn't suit everyone,

19:32

but it suits me perfectly. I

19:38

look forward to the busy summer

19:40

days when every

19:43

room is filled and

19:45

I rise early to pour coffee

19:47

for diners on the porch in

19:51

between handing out beech towels

19:53

and welcoming new guests at the reception

19:56

desk. In

20:00

the off season, when

20:03

the inn is closed or

20:05

has just a couple of rooms booked,

20:09

I enjoy the quiet and

20:12

rest. I

20:15

read books, I

20:18

sit with my cat, Sycamore, and

20:22

watch the ducks swimming on the lake. Besides

20:28

the week end of Valentine's, when

20:31

we'd opened for a few days,

20:35

and when the whole second floor and

20:38

most of the third had been full, we

20:42

were still in rest

20:45

and relaxation mode.

20:49

But all of that was about

20:51

to change.

20:55

In a week our regular season

20:58

would begin. I

21:02

was glad we weren't booked solid

21:05

right at the start. May

21:09

was an excellent month

21:13

to come to the inn, but

21:16

for many kids

21:19

were still in school, the

21:22

weather wasn't quite warm

21:25

enough to swim and boat,

21:29

and it just didn't feel like summer vacation.

21:32

Yet. It

21:37

was a chance for us to ease

21:39

ourselves into

21:42

our routines, for

21:45

Chef to test out new recipes,

21:50

for the vegetable garden to

21:52

begin to grow, and

21:55

for Sycamore to learn more

21:58

about being a good host.

22:03

He'd come to me in the late

22:05

autumn of last year, so

22:10

this would be his first summer as

22:13

an innkeeper, an

22:17

in catter as it were,

22:23

and there was a chore I

22:25

needed to take care of before

22:28

our guests arrived that

22:34

had to do with some of those details

22:37

of old houses I'd

22:39

mentioned earlier, both

22:43

the obvious and less

22:46

obvious sort, though

22:49

in the same location. When

22:54

guests came down the long

22:57

gravel drive to the inn, they

23:01

entered the big front doors

23:05

and stepped into our entryway, a

23:10

pretty paneled space with

23:13

a dramatic sweeping staircase

23:17

that carried them and

23:20

their luggage up to our

23:22

guest rooms. But

23:27

when they came back down, especially

23:31

when they came down for breakfast

23:34

or to head out to the lake, they

23:38

came down the back stairs,

23:42

which were less ornate, though still

23:45

well crafted, and

23:48

which brought them to the back of the

23:50

inn, where

23:53

we served coffee and meals on

23:56

a screened in porch overlooking the

23:58

water. When

24:03

the house was built twenty

24:06

years before the start of

24:08

the twentieth century, these

24:12

stairs were most likely not

24:16

used by the wealthy family that

24:19

lived here, maids,

24:23

cooks. I

24:26

imagine even a butler

24:30

would have used them to carry

24:32

tea trays and

24:34

deliver messages, and

24:40

probably to hide out

24:44

and have a few moments to themselves.

24:49

As someone who serves

24:51

in this house, I

24:55

care about these stairs and

24:58

the people who climbed them

25:00

back then, as

25:03

well as the ones who did today. So

25:08

every spring I

25:10

spent an afternoon sweeping

25:13

and dusting, polishing

25:16

up the wood till it shone,

25:21

and relaying the runner and

25:24

carpet rails. Sycamore

25:29

was helping in a sense.

25:33

He was keeping me company. He

25:37

had one of his tiny

25:39

stuffed mice in his mouth,

25:43

and every once in a while he'd

25:47

set it down in front of me, sit

25:51

back on his rear legs and

25:53

shadow box with it. He'd

25:58

swing his paws in a

26:00

mock fight until I

26:02

caught on, and

26:05

I'd flick the mouse down the stairs.

26:10

It tumbled to the next landing, and

26:14

he'd chase after it, a

26:17

midnight black streak with

26:20

green eyes. Once

26:26

he caught it, he'd chew

26:28

on it, batted around,

26:32

maybe even lay his head

26:34

down on it and doze

26:37

till I made my way with

26:40

my polishing rag and

26:43

broom down to

26:45

where he was, and

26:47

we'd go again. In

26:52

the corner of each step

26:56

was the other old

26:58

house feature the

27:02

less obvious one.

27:05

It was a small brass

27:07

triangle that

27:10

fitted right into the space

27:13

where at the bottom of the riser met

27:17

the wall. It

27:20

was called a dust corner, and

27:24

like you might have guessed, it

27:27

kept dust out of the corner

27:30

of the stair. If

27:33

you've ever tried to work a

27:35

broom into

27:37

that space, you know

27:39

how tricky it is to clean out.

27:45

Well. The housekeepers of the past

27:49

must have pointed that out to a

27:51

clever inventor at some point,

27:55

because if you look closely, a

27:58

lot of old houses have these.

28:03

Since they were brass, they

28:05

could be polished up to

28:08

look absolutely brand new,

28:13

And when we renovated the inn many

28:16

years ago, that's

28:19

what I did. I'd

28:23

replaced the missing ones and

28:26

polished the old ones till

28:28

they were indistinguishable, and

28:33

they had been very pretty,

28:37

but there was something about them that

28:41

just didn't feel like they fit

28:44

with the backstairs. A

28:48

bit of petina, a

28:52

less perfect shine

28:54

seemed fitting for these stairs,

28:58

where things were allowed to

29:01

not be perfect. So

29:06

I dusted and swept

29:09

and warmed the wood railings with

29:12

oil, but

29:15

left the honest age as

29:17

I went. As

29:22

I made my way to the bottom

29:24

of the stairs, the

29:27

end of my chore. In sight, I

29:31

heard chef out

29:33

on the porch. I

29:38

stuck my head through the doorway

29:42

and saw them setting down a

29:44

platter of sandwiches on

29:46

a table, along

29:49

with some glasses and napkins.

29:56

Go wash your hands and come

29:59

eat, they called, and

30:03

I gratefully pushed into the

30:05

butler's pantry and

30:07

turned on the sink. I

30:13

heard the tinkle of Sycamore's

30:15

bell as he went out

30:17

to see what else Chef

30:20

had made.

30:24

I pulled up my chair and

30:28

looked out at the sun shimmering

30:31

on the lake. I

30:36

was so glad for this old

30:38

house and

30:40

the ones who came to share it

30:43

with me. Sweet

30:47

dreams,