The stars here are so bright. For twenty years, we lived just outside of San Francisco where the fog belt obscures everything. Here, well, here the moon looks like its right outside our window, and the stars are diamonds in the sky. I watch them when I’m outside on the deck waiting for the dogs, who’ve grown accustomed to having an audience. A leftover part of living at the hotel, I think. Daizy has come to expect a full round of applause each time she poops. There are tall, blooming California bushes all around the property, over thirty feet high, and when I sit very quietly; I can see the hummingbirds that live at the very, very top. They click and buzz from here to there like oversize bees.
They’re delightful.
Last night, we were visited by a doe and her baby. We’ve had a deer on the property each night since moving in, but last night was a real treat. It wasn’t a tiny little baby. It was big enough to jump our fence to get at the apricots. It was very late, after 11:30 p.m., and as usual Jack noticed them first. The deer drive him absolutely crazy, to the point of true distraction, and when he’s outside, he simply sits and stares at the fence they jump to get in. Last night he was on the big bed with Leslie, fussing and whining, listening to the racket outside. The tiny deer was stuck on our side of the fence. It’s mother had already jumped back toward the road. When it heard Elizabeth and I chattering at the window, it got very worried and began running back and forth along the perimeter, poor thing. Elizabeth and I went outside onto the deck to get a good look, and it turned and stared back at us. It seems so odd when they do that, almost an acknowledgement. Then, seeing us in person, it found the gumption to take the fence for real and join its mother.
We continue to dig ourselves out of this pile of packed boxes. Each day, we’ve a little more space to move around in, which is something, considering this place is the size of a shoebox. I think Jack, our Golden, has the hardest time with these space constraints, however. He’s used to tearing it up with Daizy whenever he feels like it. He can’t tear anything up here without bonking his head on something hard. It gets on his nerves. Daizy seems to be the most adjusted. Boston Terriers are a hearty breed.
Strangely, the clock is ticking again. I’ve got two weeks before starting a new job in San Francisco, and I’d really like to get this place in order before I begin. It’s a wonderful opportunity with a professional services firm, and it pays exceedingly well. I’m very excited, and so relieved. It took six months to find a job in Connecticut, and what I finally found didn’t pay much. Now, I’ll be running an office, doing what I’ve trained my entire career to do, and I’ll be doing it in the city I love.
We’ve been very blessed throughout this process. We sold our house within two weeks to the first person who looked at it. Granted, the process was difficult, and the buyer was ornery, but the house sold, and it sold quickly! Leslie found us a lovely little house in a beautiful part of the peninsula, on our 23rd year anniversary, and four days after we arrived here. This is a testament to her drive and determination. It’s also in the right school district, so Elizabeth will attend sixth grade at a highly rated middle school, and she’ll be with her friends, children she already knows. I applied for the position I’ve been offered while we were still in Connecticut. Leslie found the listing on the internet. I got the job offer after three separate phone interviews, two face to face interviews in the city, and three weeks after we got here.
When I look back on our decision to leave Connecticut, I remember the trepidation Leslie and I shared. What if the house doesn’t sell? What if we can’t find a place to live in once we get there? What if there’s no work? What if we can’t get Elizabeth into the school district we want her in? All this fear, all this worry. I’m glad we didn’t let it hold us back.
It’s all been very fast and very wonderful, and I’m so thankful, truly I am.
