Day: February 20, 2013

Maria has a bug of some kind, I bullied her into knocking off work at 4 p.m. – she battled me every step of the way. Got her tucked in on the sofa, ferrying tea, plotting a dinner that will be easy on her stomach. I took Red and Lenore up on the hill – can’t take Frieda, alas, she’s too wild off the leash up there – we walked up in the hills, and I let the wind blow right across me and stood to face it. Red always keeps an eye on me, always, a good thing for a photographer. Sometimes, he looks so much like a spirit dog that it’s almost frightening. He seems to be saying something, noticing something. I like the photos I took, I’ll put them up as a photo album on Facebook later this evening.

Just at sunrise, when the chores were done, I took Red out on a path in the woods. Red is not used to walking with people, he is used to working with people. He loves these walks and is adjusting to them. If dogs are permitted to succeed and not given the opportunity to fail, they will succeed. We walk on a long narrow path. Red is just beginning to sniff the ground and not look at me for directions. This has taken several months and reminded me to be patient, be patient. They need the chance to succeed.

Every place has its own symbol, its own image. At the first Bedlam Farm, it was the big barns behind the house. I loved photographing them and they seemed to be come the image that defined Bedlam Farm. At the new Bedlam Farm, there is a new image, and it is this wonderful tree behind the farmhouse and alongside the barn. Every morning, for about 10 minutes, the sun rises right behind the tree, and casts a beautiful shadow. The light reflects off of the barn as well as onto the snow. This, I think, is becoming the image of this farm, its symbol. Often I catch the dogs heading out to do their work, or Maria heading out with her water bucket. Mostly, the three seems to be the focus. Can’t wait to shoot it in the Spring.

We don’t know exactly how old Frieda is, we think she’s 10 or 11. She is slowing down a bit, has some arthritis and she loves to find the sun coming through the window and bask in it. She needs the warmth. I can only imagine her years running wild in the Adirondacks might have worn out her legs a bit. Frieda is serious about keeping trucks away from our property and she likes to guard my office while I write. I appreciate it. Frieda has great character. She is the most loyal and loving dog I have known, still a handful but quieting down. She watches Maria closely and works with her when she is not guarding me. She takes her truck-chasing seriously. She is a working dog with a lot of work.

Chores are the spine of a farm, the veins, the narrative and structure. Chores are life and death to animals on a farm, they are never done on a farm. The ethos of a farm is to awaken each day to the new chores that appear like serious angels. This  morning, it is the gate that won’t close, the ice and snow in the feeders, a half-cord of firewood that needs stacking, the cold air coming through the pantry door, the loose and falling tiles in the bathroom, the rug that needs cleaning and moving, the stove that needs cleaning, the empty feed can that needs filling. On a farm chores are not done, they just move up and down the ladder.