Sunday Night

On a Sunday, January 24, 2016

Sometimes people I meet ask me, “How do you like Port Townsend?” People I used to know ask me, “How do you like Port Townsend?” I ask myself the same.

I came here unplanned, although it seemed to fit into my non-plan at the time. I really like this town, it feels comfortable, far away from “real” life and traffic jams. The only reason I would need to drive is to lug my clothes to the laundromat or get out of town to visit my daughters, uh…yeah…or a mall.

But I don’t feel like I will live here forever, unless I die here before I make any plans to leave. I miss living on a farm, being outside in my own space rather than a public one, miss chickens and geese, especially eating their eggs, roosters in the morning, and feeding them. I miss my own grass to mow, miss having a yard for the dog and a door on the first floor for the dog to go out or in on his own, miss opening and closing gates, redesigning the barn for lambing, fixing the fence and fence posts, cleaning out in the summer, shearing.

I chose to leave in a way, but it wasn’t easy. I thought I could get some of it back. I don’t know if I still think that. But if I give up that thought of a someday, what is left?

Not enough money to pay my bills. Dreading the end of the month wondering if there will be enough money to pay the rent in this second floor place that is not a farm. Empty refrigerator, except for the old frozen meat I use to make dog food. Paying for the electricity to keep it running. With a cold house the refrigerator might not run as much, but the hot water heater has to run more and I eventually get too cold for the heat to stay off all the time.