A funny story, and a lesson learned about assuming the worst.
One of our listings is a yurt about 300 feet from the main house on our small farm. The yurt entrance, window, and attached deck all face away from the house so it’s pretty private, but a few feet of the walkway between the yurt and the outhouse are visible from the house.
The other day we had a couple out there celebrating their anniversary. They were bent over some kind of cooking device that was set up
on the walkway, and they kept walking back and forth tending to it, steam billowing above a big pot. I wasn’t too concerned about the cooking; there’s a much more iffy fire pit just a few feet away that guests are welcome to use. But still, they were cooking, right outside the outhouse door (?), on a day in the high 30s…just, why? But the kicker was what they were wearing: giant head-to-toe white suits, with big hoods and foot coverings. I will admit that binoculars were involved on my end. Mine must not be very good, because I still couldn’t quite tell what was going on.
I tend to leave guests on their own unless they need me; in fact, I’ve never just shown up at the door before. This time I did. I had all kinds of crazy thoughts…what in the hell were they doing? Cooking up meth in Tevlar suits? Processing a body?
Under the pretense of seeing if they needed anything, I called out hello in advance as I came just to the edge of the steps to the deck. They were sitting on the ground, around a pot of what looked like soup, with matching books in their hands (poetry? hymns?). All that was visible of them were their faces, with the rest covered by giant white… onesies. One was a unicorn, with a glittering horn on her hood; the other a dragon with a row of rainbow scales down her back and a very long tail.
They greeted me as though everything was normal. I asked if all was well and made no mention of dragon or unicorn things. They didn’t either. We made a time for me to come back after their supper and show them how the shower worked. I did, and we had a lovely conversation about how they do things on their own farm. The onesies had been swapped for Carhartts and boots. No onesies in sight. I glanced casually around to see what else might be lying around (a hookah? Sparkle pens?), but nada.
I inwardly awarded them the prize for most innovative guests before heading back to the house, from which I could see at a distance the faces of my family lined up inside the window.
They left the yurt beautifully tidy, and are coming back for another stay in December. 5 stars all around. I mean, the entertainment value alone. I can’t promise that the binoculars will stay in their drawer.
I didn’t realize that yurt I was staying at belonged to another host on this forum. 
Was it also a full moon?
