I live in a barn. More accurately, I live in the upstairs loft apartment above a barn. The view from our little abode looks out over a pasture full of cows, goats, and Belgian draft horses--all grazing and playing. I swear, cows are the funniest to watch, all chasing each other like they are playing tag or something. And goats really like to jump over each other. The only light at night comes from a light post located in the yard of our neighbors and landlords to the east. The only noises come from the occasional goat ramming the barn wall (accompanied by a little shaking of the structure) and the inconsiderate roosters.
Six years ago I moved into another apartment at another significant mile-stone in my life. I had landed my first teaching job. I bought my first car. I bought my first cell phone (at the age of 26). And I loaded all my belongings and headed across the country--leaving Arizona behind to call Washington, D.C. home. Actually, I lived in Pentagon City, Virginia (which is actually in Arlington, but who's checking). The apartment was at the end of a long hallway on the seventh floor of an eleven-story apartment building, which was one building of three in the complex. Right out my southern facing living room window I could see Pentagon City Mall and a large shopping complex. Ann Taylor Loft. A running store. DSW! A Thai food restaurant. Harris Teeter's (a grocery store). An Irish pub. A French restaurant. Noodles & Company. Just to name a few. And to get to work, all I had to do was walk across the street, cross the outdoor plaza, walk down into the indoor mall and to the metro stop. At the other end, I would walk eight blocks to my school.In the summer, local bands would play in the outdoor plaza. In the winter, there would be an outdoor skating rink set up and people would skate around and around in circle. And I could see it all happening right there from my window, seven floors below me and across the street. I don't remember hearing too much in that apartment, except in the couple of weeks of spring or fall when I could open my bedroom windows as I slept. The hum of cars to the north of our building--the 395 freeway going into D.C. and separating us from the Pentagon on the other side.
Six years ago I had no idea I would be living in the countryside (for the first time ever) or married to a farmer. The view from my window has changed. And I LOVE it!! (Most of the time ;)
