Ten Deer, or, Living in a Birdhouse

By the middle of May it looked as if my unemployment benefits were about to run out, and I had given up on ever having another nursing job. So my husband got his wish: I decided to sell my furniture, move from downtown Puyallup to Eatonville, and retire in quiet poverty to the top apartment in his [mostly] renovated barn. My furniture never did sell, so it's all here in a giant chaotic jumble, along with about a hundred boxes, mysterious as to the contents.

My original bottom-freezer refrigerator is here [long story] with the inner racks removed, which I have no idea how to fit back in. If I never figure it out, I'll have an appliance repairman make a house call and they can figure it out. 

I said 500 Remover of Difficulties and was offered two jobs; I accepted my dream job at Rainier School. Meanwhile I followed through with my moving plans.

Plan A was for my husband to finish the extensive work still needed on the third floor: insulation, sheetrock, mudding and painting for the majority of the area, as well as extending the limited electrical wiring, plumbing the bathroom, hooking up the hot water, ad infinitum, before I moved in.

We followed Plan B: just get the heck out of Dodge and then work around my stuff to finish the renovation. I was blessed with many friends and family pitching in together on Saturday June 29th, and a lovely coworker and his tireless friend on Sunday the 30th, to help me move in one glorious, chaotic event. Then I spent the following Friday night cleaning up my place, which was filthy, staying up overnight. I usually avoid caffeine because of sleep issues, but I started that night drinking Original Coca-Cola from Mexico out of a glass bottle. Delicious, and good for nine hours of scrubbing.

I will miss the day and night trains--the Railroad Orchestra--the garage, and the dishwasher.

The top of this hundred-year-old barn has been the home for countless generations of swallows living in the eaves above my window. They have their feeding times at dawn and dusk, swooping across the pasture for bugs; they rustle and fuss and creak outside the window above my head, feeding their young and keeping house.

I live in the midst of pastures, with deer wandering through; drive country roads to work in Buckley, WA, and work out in the country with deer wandering through. My neighbors are horses and a rather despondent-sounding donkey. My life has become full of peace and joy. And other stuff, such as chaos.

July First I was orienting on the evening shift at work; we saw a doe and two yearling does with her. On the other end of campus, a few minutes later, we saw another doe with two spotted fawns jumping along to catch up with her. When I drove out the East Gate to drive home, another doe crossed my path. I saw three more deer on the way home, including another doe and small fawn.

Since it was so hot, my window was wide open, but missing a screen. About midnight, three bats flew in and ricocheted around the room as I crouched low on the floor. I wasn't afraid, but I didn't want them to contact me, either. Eventually they found their way out.

Life is good.