We are a couple days into summer. Weather is a little crazy- they are saying record warmth in the Pacific Northwest, which has people alarmed, since that is the state we are used to now. Here in the Piedmont of Virginia it is actually cool enough for a sweater in the morning. Both unusual. We had something extreme a week or so ago, more than nine inches of rain in one amazing dump of moisture that brought back memories of the monsoon season when I was living in Seoul, and the rain fell in sheets.

The Editorial Meeting was delayed for an assortment of good reasons impacting other people. You know the kind of stuff that entails, and thankfully not our section in the notorious Writers Group. We report to Production, and they are pretty focused and can get testy when on the verge of delivering scheduled product. We were glad the problems were with the “process” folks. You know, the Legal and Compliance crowd who have to keep track of what sort of crisis is being administered at the moment, since emergency rule appears to be the new normal. Our lives used to be emergency enough.

Technically, the problem was an issue with Compliance and HR over external relations. We understand we are supposed to look more like America, which we did before, but now we have to look like a different one which gets confusing. HR has to deal with formulae and stuff to be compliant with whatever is directed to be normal. We are generally compliant, except there are boxes to check that vary on what part of the country the Product goes to. Which of course is difficult on the web, since that is everywhere.

We decided to just concentrate on local stuff that means little to us but has potential to make other people think we are like them, or they are like us or something. Argo did his leadership thing up front for the group shots since the rich hue he presents is cool. We also paired off in a way that implied all sorts of other things which would normally be impossible in a group of seven slightly erratic individuals. That seems to be where this is all going, so we are already staffed and compliant for whatever it is Management wants at the moment. And the moment after that, if necessary.

Anyway, a puff on a Marlboro on the back deck is always useful when the part of the organization that has to deal with the external world is wrapped tight about something we don’t care about. We are supposed to say “we don’t understand,” which is only true to a certain degree, and could be combined into one lineal thread like the Second Amendment, which would go something like “Not understanding being necessary to a happy electorate, the right of the Production Staff to not care shall not be infringed.”

We were so proud of ourselves on that bit of mental gymnastics that when the big news spread up from the loading dock it caused us to put down our coffee mugs and snuff out the cigarettes in amazement. We have some local residents who venture out on the pasture behind the barn and loading dock. They are not human, not to be disparaging, but definitely have a certain distinct civic sense. In this case they are a normally a small pod of three deer. They mind their own business, and we try to mind our own.

There is a certain sentiment held by part of the staff that their numbers should be maintained at a sustainable level. That would require harvesting a component of the small group in the season in the fall, but that is a debate about the propriety of shooting stands and the chronic “visitor parking” issue. But as noted, that is generally a seasonal issue and only regulated by the State and not the Feds. But thankfully, Spring is left to the animals to make their own contribution to the debate.

That is what the conversation was about yesterday. Someone noted that a Doe from the group was nibbling on the growing greenery by the Big Ass Rock just upslope from the cross-pasture gate. She is fun to watch and we don’t bother her. But someone noted that her legs seemed a little fuzzy, not the slim businesslike ones we normally see. There was a buzz with the other staff writers, who were seeing something they didn’t have to think up. The doe may have heard something in the buzz of conversation and looked up toward the bunkhouse, blinking a couple times with those deep circular dark eyes and wrinkling her pert nose as if to sneeze.

And revealing the mystery, which turned out to be a fawn huddled under her midsection. The little thing seemed comfortable on those skinny little legs, and we marveled at a system where they are born alive and able to rapidly move on their own in an environment that has beings like us in it.

The Doe did not appear to approve of our commentary, but that is fairly normal for the production staff. She glanced our way to ensure we were not moving, and ushered her fawn toward the fence line where it could snake a delicate way through the fence, rather than have to leap it all in one dramatic exit leap like the mother. That process was accomplished in smooth order and left the pasture empty. Like the writer’s notepads.

Easy escape seemed to be the correct way to approach one of the last tolerable days of the new summer. They say the humidity will be back, and whatever left-over heat from the northwest event sweeping east. So we did, leaving one of the interns to take notes at the meeting. There were all kinds of other things to do, and we decided to try them out some place where neither Legal nor Compliance were likely to see.

Of course, that led to a discussion about whether that is what the deer are doing. We decided to watch and report. Sensitively, of course, and in a way that looks like normal. Whatever that is at the moment.

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