Nestled at the edge of Mystic Grove — and I use “nestled” as loosely as possible — the Shady Oak Bed and Breakfast promises “historic charm with a touch of mystery.” What it delivers is the architectural equivalent of a shrug.
The place looks like it was decorated entirely from estate sale leftovers. It offers all the comforts of your great-aunt’s attic, including creaky floors, dusty lace curtains, and a mattress that made noises I’m reasonably sure violated local noise ordinances?
The proprietors, Bruce and Lydia Wilson, are an odd study in contrasts. Lydia radiates the desperate cheerfulness of a woman who owns too many herbal tea blends and believes in the healing power of crocheted wall art. Bruce, on the other hand, lurks in doorways like he’s auditioning for a regional production of Suspicious Silence: The Musical. Between the two of them, it’s a miracle guests sleep at all — although if the mattress doesn’t keep you awake, the vague sense of being watched probably will.—she’s all smiles and herbal tea, he’s all sideways glances and long silences. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were hiding a few skeletons in their crawlspace. Literal or metaphorical.
They advertise the Shady Oak as “gently haunted,” a phrase that here means “definitely drafty and questionably wired.” According to the laminated flyer in the lobby — tastefully displayed next to a half-melted soy candle and a jar of “hand-collected river stones” — guests have reported footsteps in the hallways, flickering lights, and a mysterious “cold spot” near the parlor fireplace. Translation: Bruce walked by, the wiring’s ancient, and someone forgot to fix the window frame.
I did my due diligence and spent a night in the “Rose Suite,” a name suggesting elegance but delivering cracked wallpaper, a tilted lampshade, and a strongly worded wish for tetanus shots. No spirits appeared. Unless you count the lingering regret of every design choice made after 1957.
If you enjoy the aesthetic of forgotten attics, the thrill of wondering whether that draft is supernatural or just a broken seal, and the vague threat of spiritual mildew, the Shady Oak is your dream destination. Otherwise, book your ghost-free lodging elsewhere — preferably somewhere with mattresses manufactured this century.