Shhhh! I Have a Secret

"Get in, get out. Don't linger. Go on."— Raymond Carver (1938-1988)

by Christine Neilson

Santa Barbara's quiet Bath Street residential neighborhood calls me to meander up the unlevel sidewalks peering into the collage of architectures. Suddenly I am taken aback by a tall hedge with a pathway opening. This certainly conjures up memories of the 1910 classic children's novel, The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett. What will be revealed behind this towering greenery?

As if on cue, I step onto the path as the proprietor, Dominique Hamnaux Foxton, swings open the front door with a melodic greeting laced with a French accent. This European flair sets the tone. Inside, sunlight filtered through picture windows dances over the parlor's floral French fabrics and eclectic artwork and glitters off a silver tea tray. My curiosity is aroused.

"I was raised in the French Alps," explains Dominique, a financial consultant who worked in Paris, France, before venturing to the United States in 1998. "When I arrived in Santa Barbara, I wanted to own a business . . . not a restaurant, maybe a coffee house."

This house was built in 1901 as a private residence. In 1980, it was sold to Janice Eaton, who turned it into a B&B. Eaton's father was a realtor. He later bought the two back lots, expanding the land holding. In 1989, Eaton sold it to a Scottish lady with two children who changed the name to the Secret Garden.

"I had never thought about owning a B&B until I saw an ad in the newspaper in 1999", she explains about the happenstance that led to the fulfillment of her entrepreneurial dream. "It was the beginning of a good economy, but the property was dreadful. And the day after the escrow closed, the inn's manager resigned. I was an upstart. I had to learn how to be an innkeeper ASAP. This culture is most difficult. People expected me to talk to them. I was shy."

But Dominique's shy demeanor was uplifted when it came to deciding on an exterior paint for the main house and cottages. "I chose yellow and blue because they went well with the green garden. Yellow is a symbolic color. It brings clarity," she smiles as she guides me through the kitchen's back door on to the brick garden patio dotted with bistro tables, chairs, and a mural painted on the side of the house that casts a surreal response. One can easily float through this serene scene composed of nooks and crannies and grassy areas enhanced with lush foliage. Our greenery distraction is diverted when I'm suddenly startled by a cluster of cottages that sprout up down a hidden path. "There are four cottages divided into nine rooms. Each offer similar gated decks with hot tubs."

Nothing remains the same when I venture inside the cottages. Ranging in square footage, each has it's own distinct personality enhanced by vintage touches such as plate rails with patterned china and bookshelves with Fiesta pottery next to classic novels. Then there's the unexpected wall mural in the Kingfisher Cottage.

"It just seemed appropriate to give our rooms and cottages bird names (Kingfisher, Bobwhite, Meadowlark, Mockingbird, Cardinal, Whippoorwill, Hummingbird, Oriole, and Wood Thrush) because the birds adore this garden. They are here 12 hours a day. There is even a Blue Jay that perches regularly outside the kitchen window sill."

As I wander back through the garden into the main house, Dominique offers a glimpse into her youth. "In France, I grew up in a big house. A matriarchal one. We ate what we grew in our garden and purchased at the farmers market, but when our maid was gone, we'd open a can of peas," she chuckles. Later, she learned to cook and became proficient at her favorite recipes from Shaw's French Country Cooking.

"Over the years, I've cooked traditional French recipes like clafoultis—a thick custard with fruit—for friends, but what I like best are casserole recipes. In France, we call them quiche, but they have no pastry. I've changed the recipes over the years adding mushrooms, sweet peppers, bacon, tomato."

Each morning, Dominique's breakfast casseroles transport guests transcontinentally. When I slip into our antique dining room chairs to indulge in the savory dishes with fresh pastry and fruit, there is much to ponder. For instance, a window seat puffed with cushions framed by a plate glass window overlooking the tall ivy hedge outside. One begins to consider who has graced these surroundings before.

"Julie Christie (British actress) came here for the Film Festival. She stayed in that room right there," she points at a door in the hall. "Also, we've had an English director, and a radio person stay with us."

But there is more than the back to front world here of celebrity guests, tourists, family reunions, and honeymooners. There is the unexpected. The staging of events.

"I had a vivid dream, a premonition about a loss of a family member. It began my quest to forget about a superficial life. Life can be simple. Just a roof overhead, food we grow ourselves. Nowadays, there are useless events. I want my guests to have good food and surroundings, so I routinely schedule events that explore all of my interests . . . art shows, French cultural groups, guest chef hosted dinners or afternoon tarot card readings, numerology, astrology conducted by healer Anjellea Godwin, and dream workshops facilitated by Debbie Johnstone. I rearrange tables in the parlor where I can seat 22, or set-up the patio for 24.

"I'm a Capricorn. I'm down to earth," she concludes, bidding us farewell. As our sedan merges away from the curb, it is a time for reflection. What have I discovered here? To expect the unexpected.

Doe Image on Banner by Tulip Fleurs