#barnlife, alive and well.

Neigh!

A horse bellows behind me as I wring out a newly laundered thermal in the basin, shaking it out before draping it over the fence to dry. The sun hurries off behind the hills surrounding our desert horse ranch, educating me once again on the finer details of wash-by-hand laundry—do it earlier in the day.

I’ve been living here, in the Southern California desert, at the southernmost foothills of the San Bernardino Mountains, for a few days now, but already it feels like home. I arrived here this past weekend, taking a private room in a part of the ranch’s barn which has been converted into a living space. My goal has been to (finally) finish this beast of a book I’ve been working on since I moved out of the office in 2014—and arguably earlier, as the derivative of these pages is the online diary, dating back to 2012. But I’ve been picking up a few secrets along the way.

Including when to dry one’s laundry.

I may be a little hard on myself. Part of me knew better, wanting to get out and commandeer some detergent earlier in the day, but I kept getting sidetracked. Watching the birds flutter about. Convening with the horses. Doing actual writing. It’s just that time is a little soft here on the ranch. I suppose that’s why I came.

Mt. San Jacinto, as safely viewed from low elevation.

It isn’t my first time here. Back in the summer of 2014, I took a cottage up higher on the hill to assemble my first true draft of the book. I fell in love with the naked profile of Mt. San Jacinto to the south, admiring its contours in all lights, sneaking peeks at twilight and during thunderstorms, eager to glean reminiscences from my grueling summer of 2011 ascent of the thing via the famed Cactus to Clouds Trail. I was a bit more daring then, even though but a few turns of the calendar stand between me and the memory.

Now, the lofty summits I tackle are of my own imagination. Namely, this book.

They key to creating an in-barn living space is to HIDE THE FACT IT’S IN A BARN. This is achieved well here.

The accommodations I’ve chosen this time around are much more rustic than the last. The sleeping area is a four-bunk hole in the wall, attached to a small living space equipped with a couch, mini fridge, counter top, and a half bath off to the side. Bathing requires a walk to the lodge, where a separate full bathroom awaits, tucked away next to the gem of the property—an open-air Jacuzzi. I fully admit to having used this on a daily basis, despite not knowing exactly what the rules are about such a thing. But, like anything which allows me to lean back and count the constellations by the hairs on my head, I treat it with the utmost respect.

I’m no stranger to odd-space living, but this is a new one in my book. A welcome introduction to the ranch life, free from the obligation of actual ranching but with all the dung-scented, squeaky-wheelbarrow-wheel charm this hay-underfoot paradise has to offer. I may even have some ergonomics suggestions for my host, should she care to hear them out.

Catching the day’s last few clothes-drying rays.

Or I could choose to be like the rest of the living things on this property and stay quiet. I suppose that’s what I came here for anyway. And if I learn a thing or two about laundry in the meantime, so be it.

-TOH