About The Deer
About the deer. Well, on the way home from
Portland 2 weeks ago, I was driving my old
pickup and hit a deer on the highway between
Tri-cities and Waitsburg. The radiator was
destroyed. Thank heavens I had towing on the
insurance and got towed into Dayton (closest
town with a mechanic in the phone book) and then
spent Monday finding a radiator I could make fit,
new belts, and hoses I could adapt. I got back
home Monday night, and had to order a new water
pump because the impact had apparently damaged
the bushing and it howled all the way home. Our
dear friends Greg and Bahi Hansen had loaned us
a little Geo Metro for Cal to use, and since it gets 40 mpg I have been
driving it mostly.
So, I'm driving the Geo to PDX Friday night with the 3 dogs, Evan, and
a nephew of Leslie's who needed a ride to Troutdale, and just outside
Pomeroy I hit another deer, this time a big buck. Fortunately, the car
was so low to the ground and the deer was so big that it bounced off the
hood (taking a mirror, the left-turn signal light and a wiper with it and
cracking but not breaking the windshield, not to mention crumpling some
sheet metal), mortally wounding the buck but leaving the inner workings
of the car absolutely intact. The sheriff's deputy said I should be a
hunter. Unfortunately, we don't get to take road kill home. Oh well.
The reason we were going to Portland in the first place was to celebrate
my 57th birthday with the family. Ed and Munir took us to Pok Pok, on
Division between 32nd and 33rd, which serves Thai street cuisine. This
was outrageously delicious. It was a lovely birthday celebration. And
Justin, a friend of Calvin's who was also at his funeral, works there.
Another connection. Cal would have loved the place and the evening.
Perhaps he did.
Evan, the dogs and I got home late Sunday night, exhausted but safe
and sound. No more deer. For the moment. We left Leslie in
Portland one more time. She's been keeping vigil for her sister Sue,
who has been in hospital with pneumonia for three weeks. She misses
home. We miss her. It looks like Sue is finally improving. Her
color is good; she is better able to communicate; she has the
energy to fret and worry and be scared. Maybe now Leslie can
come home and feel OK about it.
Maybe soon things will begin to turn around. Maybe they are already
beginning to. I sometimes look up and think something like, 'Cal,
here's to you. To life. L'chaim.' Something like that. Or, 'Hey.
What ya think? OK?' Or something like that.