Day: December 7, 2012

Fear is the cheapest room in the house, with the worst view, I think. Permit me to show you something more suitable, I would like to see you living in better conditions, with a better view of the city, of the world beyond. I know the Innkeeper, he is a friend of my angel, they text each other all of the time, they each have a very different view of the world.

I am just the night clerk at the desk, but I have the keys to all of the rooms.

I can’t promise anything right now, all of our best rooms are taken, but I know if you close your eyes,

kneel down and pray, just for yourself, that something sweet and good will happen in the world,

and a good room, a hopeful one with a beautiful view of the world will open up, and you will

find that hope and love and happiness cost a bit more, but are well worth it, cheap at the price.

So when you want to change, are ready for a different room, please come and see me.

Your soul and my soul will take a walk in the park outside, maybe ride one of the horses,

You heart and my heart will become the oldest and closest of friends.

I am a story teller, and life is nothing but a collection of stories. I appreciate rural life, and life in a small town because the stories are often about community, connection. Of being known, of being helped. There is no left or right here when people are in trouble. Everybody just comes. The electric bill for the farm work was considerably higher than I had budgeted for – no complaints, it was good and honest work. I called the electrician and asked if I could pay in two or three installments. Sure, he said, you are good for it, I know where you live and you have been good to me. Or Ben writing out his bills with a stub pencil on restaurant and waitress order forms.

It means going into the supermarket and having the cashier tell me she is sorry about Rocky, she passed by the farm every day on her way to work. Or the clerk at the hardware store saying she loves my new fences. Or walking with Red on Main Street in  Cambridge, and Red spotting Maria coming the other way on the sidewalk.  Or a man at the gas station asking me if we sold the other farm yet, and assuring me that it was a lovely place and someone would buy it. Or my banker saying he knows this is a difficult time, and don’t hesitate to call if there is something he might be able to do.  I caught Red’s tail beginning to wag. I could not return to the other life, surrounded by strangers, doing business with people who don’t know me.

The encounter between Red and Maria on the street was another. That Red can walk on the street of-leash and everyone knows who he is. Small stories, the fabric of life in rural America, a world abandoned by the politicians and economists, who have declared us inefficient in the new global economy. This is our answer to them: community and connection.

It’s hard to know if Minnie misses Mother, our other barn cat who vanished after four days on the new farm. I think she took off for some other place, and I hope she got there. Minnie shows no signs of missing anything, she patrols the farm, the pasture, the barn and the back porch. She has become more assertive and outgoing and has picked up Mother’s habit of following us around when we move around the farm. She loves hanging out with the chickens, and sometimes I think she thinks she is a chicken.

Got Red and Lenore back from the groomers, Eileen talking about the problems of dealing with dogs with fleas. Fortunately, we don’t have that problem. Maria will take these bandannas and turn them into potholders. Clever girl.

Red goes anywhere you want him to go, and as he loves being cuddled by women, he is happy to cuddle with Eileen Quackenbush at Muddy Paws in Shushan. It’s always fun to go to Eileen, where there are dogs tucked away in crates and she does a running commentary on all of them. Eileen talks dogs. I’ll get Red later in the day. I hate the bandanas she puts on the dogs, but she doesn’t care what I think. And Maria uses them for potholders.