I am getting used to scenes like this at our farm, Red and the donkeys are getting used to one another, the donkeys still seem very curious about them. Donkeys do not like dogs herding the sheep, which they guard Rose had a rough time with the donkeys, she was often kicked and tangled with them regularly. Red is like the Dean Martin of border collies, he is smooth and unflappable. Lulu is getting fond of him, I think, she is always checking him out. Simon has stopped trying to stomp him, and Lulu most just ignores him.
The Studio Barn at Bedlam Farm is a sacred space for me. It was built in the 1970’s by Ralph Keyes, the farmer who owned the farm then, and he used it as an appliance repair shop. It is not as old or gracious as the other Bedlam Farm barns, but it does have heat and running water. It is a sacred space to me, one of the most important buildings in my life, because it brought Maria and I together.
When I met Maria, she was working on restoring old buildings and farms. She told me she was an artist, and she had not done her art in some years. I could see how unhappy she was about that. She said she had no good place to work, as she would live in the old houses while restoring them, and then move on to other properties. I had this idea of Bedlam Farm being a creative place, a center for artists and writers, it was a vague idea. I offered Maria the use of the Studio Barn in exchange for weekend care of the animals – I had a lot of animals then, and was struggling to keep up, and I had no good use for the barn.
To my surprise, she agreed and our friendship was born in the Studio Barn. She would come twice a day on Saturdays and Sundays, and for a long time, I never saw her, then I would offer her some tea and she would sometimes accept. She was so quiet then, so shy, she did not have a voice, and I was falling apart then, I was lonely, going to pieces. We always saw through the craziness in one another, we both saw the person the other really wanted and needed to be.
For a long time, she only came in the night in the Studio Barn, worked until dawn, and I heard her come and go, but never saw here. She never visited the farmhouse or spoke with me. I respected that. I knew she was shy and private, and I didn’t want to intrude. Then, both of us were divorced. I started bringing chocolates and bread and cheese, and leaving them there for her. Like a shy cat, she would eat them in the night and I would collect the plates in the morning.
She spent more time in the daytime and I visited her more often. We spent so many wonderful nights in the Studio Barn, talking about writing, art life, encouraging one another, healing each other from the awful trauma of divorce. We always make one another smile, even when neither of us was smiling much. We joked about our panic attacks, traded notes and tricks for surviving them. We had them daily. She was almost solely responsible for my photography, every photo I ever took was a love letter to her.
Neither of us ever imagined being together then, but our friendship deepened in that barn, and our love grew and was nourished there. In the winter, we would sit by a roaring wood stove and drink hot chocolate and I would cheer her potholders and quilts and she would encourage my photography and help me see a better life. It will be better, we told one another, there is love, and we can find it. I did not know it was right there in that little Studio Barn.
I can never look at that building without choking up, feeling my heart swell. There, Maria’s artistry took hold and flowered and moved over to the Pig Barn, where she held her first art shows, and drew thousands of people. Amazing an odd little structure like that, not really a barn at all, not graceful or expensive to build, yet to me as magnificent and luminous to me as the Taj Mahal. I owe it so much, I will make sure it’s next owner loves it too.
The sun sang a sweet song on the daffodils in the living room and I appreciated it. This weekend reminded me that life is a brew, a recipe, a stew, it is never just one thing or another. This weekend was a rich sampling of life. We went to a plant exchange, and got dahlias and a bush and a bunch of perennials and donated two buckets of Florence’s Irises. I went to Battenkill Books as Recommender-in-Chief and recommended some books. We took Maria’s mother to hear a local chorale perform Handel’s Messiah, music I often heard on Christmas Day in my other life.
Today I met with my students from the Hubbard Hall Workshop, and then, Maria and I planted a Dahlia garden in honor of Florence Walrath, and we made some new friends we very much enjoyed and went out to dinner with them. Friendships are a miracle for me, every time they occur, and I respect and treasure them. Good friends are coming into our lives. And then another interesting thing, Maria went with a friend to take a horseback riding lesson, a legacy, I think, of her affection for Rocky.
She was quiet and reflective about it, she said she enjoyed it very much, it just seemed comfortable and natural and she very much enjoyed her instructor and found the lesson instructive and pleasant. I don’t now if she’ll pursue this or not, I do have this fantasy of having a gentle horse here, we have a horse stall and acres of riding trails right behind the farm. Maria is athletic and has an intuitive way with animals. And she dearly loved Rocky.
But a horse is a big responsibility, and we have a lot of those. And it is expensive. It is not about what I might like, but what she might like. I think she will explore it a bit further, that is up to her. It isn’t something I want to dot. I was surprised by her interest and yet, when I thought about it, was not. Maria is very focused on her work and is wary of distractions, but I also saw her with Rocky and saw how much she loved him. When I close my eyes, I can see her and Lenore trotting through the beautiful woods behind the farm. Maria is quiet and steady, she is not into the drama of animals, she is very sane about them. She said she was impressed that she and the other students groomed the horses, and it was peaceful and quiet, nobody was excited or talking or chattering sweet nothings to the animals.
I know what she means, she is not looking for another soul mate, but a natural and satisfying experience. She said she was very impressed with her instructor and was explaining to me how you control a horse. I was impressed, her friend said she was a natural, she is ready for a trail ride. Horses are different than dogs, but I see that some of the same training principles apply.
Tomorrow, the rich stew continues. I am scheduled for a root canal at my dentist at 5 p.m. Root canals are much easier and simpler than they used to be but still, I will be happy when it’s done. I had one two years ago and it wasn’t much worse than having a cavity repaired. Life just keeps coming in all of its rich, satisfying and challenging ways and we spun the wheel this weekend. Our farm is surrounded by gardens – two out front, one by the back door, one by the stone wall at the edge of the pasture. I see it takes a lot of work to have a nice garden, ours is filling out. I’m ready.
We finished the Dahlia garden and planted other bulbs and bushes this afternoon, we opened the gate and let the donkeys come and mow the lawn while we worked. They are good company, quiet and companionable and they are doing a great job on the grass. I’m excited about the Dahlia garden and the three other gardens we have planted. Eager to wait a few weeks for some action.
We got up early and tackled the Dahlia garden, I pulled a muscle in my back this morning, so I was not as useful as I wanted to be. We got gardening soil, compost soil and planed eight Dahlia’s all in two rows about 18 inches apart. We named the garden in honor of Florence Walrath, but Maria say sit is my garden, and that might be true also. More later, got to go to my Hubbard Hall Writer’s Workshop class.
