Est. 1928 · Lake Memphremagog · Magog
Notes from a four-room inn above the water. Guests write the entries; the lake edits them. Four rooms, one long breakfast table, and a dock that belongs to whoever wakes first.
nº 04 · 2026
The loons were loud this morning
Woke at five to a pair of loons arguing outside the window. In Full Moon the bed faces east, so the sunrise finished the job. I took the canoe out before breakfast while the lake was still deciding what color to be.
Back at the house, the long table was already loud. Someone had saved me the window seat and the last of the coffee, which is the closest thing to love this journal has recorded.
nº 03 · 2026
The long breakfast ran till noon
Nobody left the table. The granola ran out, then the second batch did too, and still nobody moved. Breakfast here is served from eight to eleven, but the table keeps its own hours.
In the afternoon I finished a whole novel in the Half Moon reading chair, the one the house warns you about. Dinner was leftover pie on the dock, eaten with our feet in the water.
nº 02 · 2026
The lake turned to glass
Not a ripple by seven. We carried the telescope to the deck but the sky was still too bright, so we just watched the mountains double themselves in the water instead.
Then I slept ten hours straight in New Moon. Ten. I have small children; this simply never happens. The blackout shutters deserve their own entry.
nº 01 · 2026
First frost on the dock
Woke to white on the boards and steam rising off the water. The attic room keeps its warmth like a secret; we lay under the skylight and watched the stars thin out until the cold won.
Breakfast tasted like the end of something good. We are already arguing about which week to steal next year.
✦ your turn ✦
Booking direct means the best rate, the best room, and a jar of our granola on arrival. Two-night minimum on weekends. Pick the room your story needs.
Prefer a human? Call (819) 555-0142, we answer between breakfasts.