Federal House Inn - a woman's dream come true ....a little late

The Federal House Inn.. all of these years later and I still remember vividly my experiences there. I especially remember all of the sweat equity that went into getting it ready to open.
I wrote in a previous blog about an inn my mother had bought. She collected antique furniture for this inn forever... or so it seemed at the time.


I lived in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania and was working and taking care of my young twins.
My mother summoned me to New York City, where she lived, and asked me to help her run an inn she had just bought in the foothills of the Berkshire mountains.

Now, how could I pass up an adventure such as this promised to be? A sane person would have simply said "No". That word never entered my mind. I agreed to give up my very good job, a nice home, friends and living near my dad, to go to South Lee, Massachusetts. I did not have a clue as to where South Lee was.... not a shred of an inkling.
It is close to the New York boarder, about 45 miles from Albany. It is a small town. At the time we lived there there was no rural delivery for the mail. Everyone had to hike into the post office to collect their mail. Federal House was located across the road from the post office.
The post office was once a stop on the pony express. The rider would change horses in South Lee.
Tanglewood, where the Boston Pops summer and Twila Thorpe had a dance camp is near South Lee. Stockbridge, famous for the Red Lion Inn and Norman Rockwell is just a hop, skip and a jump away. Many a day I would ride my bike into Stockbridge!
Anyhoo, my mother bought an inn. When I first saw it I was awe struck. Not by its glamour and grandeur but OMG it was a worn down wreck of a place! You have got to be kidding, it is going to take a lot of elbow grease and a king's ransom to get it up and running. It made me think of Gone With The Wind Tara Plantation after the Civil War, columns an all....
I think only my mom could see its inner beauty.

The front porch sagged, there was need for a new boiler, the kitchen was in terrible shape and the mantel in the dining room needed restoring. This was just a few of necessary fixes. It also needed gallons of paint, both inside and out.

An army of volunteers showed up with great regularity to help. My mother had a thriving practice as a clinical psychologist in New York City. She would come up to the inn as often as possible, always on the weekends. Watch out! The commander was in the house. No rest for the wicked.

I must say, the work got done, the house was finally presentable. It was far from finished. It needed the small homey touches but it was, ready or not, fit for guests.
We offered a room with continental breakfast the next morning. My children would pick blueberries for the biscuits.
We had a few guests that first year and one couple would pay extra to have a dinner cooked while they were there.
That first winter was rough... ice and snow and very few visitors.
The second summer was promising, more visitors, more furniture, added touches that makes a place a home.
We were into our second winter, it was rougher than the previous one. I had to work at Mead Paper in order to suppliment my income.
The following spring, April, my mom passed away. My children and I left for California in November to start a new life.
Her dream was being fulfilled but it would be some one else as innkeeper to reap the full measure of what she had started.
Federal House is an operating inn these days. The website is: www.federalhouseinn.com
Take a look see at what my mother had hoped for.