Day: June 1, 2013

Down on Patterson Avenue,

With a childlike vision coming into view,

Marching with the drummer boy behind,

He’s much older now, he wears his hat

and gave up wine,

he beats the drum for Madame Farm.

That smell of sweet lilac drifting through

The warm afternoon like the City Of God,

like a star.

The kids out in the road,

racing bicycles down the steep hill,

to the rushing creek,

where the frogs chant their hymn,

Me sitting on my sofa playing games of chance,

looking at my farm,

when I fall into a trance

With my folded arms and piles of books,

I glance into the eyes of Madame Farm,

I’m getting weaker and my knees begin to sag.

And she turns red, and whispers to me,

Lord Have Mercy, I think its those people,

come to sign on the dots,

and then she turns, drops everything she gots,

Down into the meadow below,

Say goodbye to Madame Farm,

Dry your eye for Madame Farm,

Dancing, music all around the barns,

As I dry my eyes, get up to leave,

She shouts out loud, and says,

hey love, you forgot your camera

Down home, on the long path,

Gotta go, got to say good bye to Madame Farm

And the love, the love, the love,

She loves to love.

– Thanks to Van Morrison for the inspiration from “Madame George,” it rang through my head at Bedlam Farm, where it broke my heart a bit today to see her all dressed up with nowhere to go.

Making my regular check on a neighbor’s corn field. It’s been about three weeks and the stalks are beginning to reveal themselves, take some definition.

My religion is the creative spark, my faith the obligation to find my zeal and follow it, and to encourage others to do the same when they are open to it and ready for it. I see in the luminousity of flowers the creative spark calling to us to keep faith and free our inner spirits.

In addition to “Strong Women” and other subjects, I’m adding a “Men Who Love Their Dogs” series to the blog. Martin, who works at the new Ace Hardware store in town, loves his Mastiff Rocky. Martin is quiet, businesslike until you ask him about Rocky and he opens up like a can of peas and will go on for hours sharing details of Rocky’s life. Rocky is big, but l like most mastiffs, is very quiet. He sits next to Martin by the cash register and mostly dozes. Martin says Rocky has his own couch at home.

Rocky is easy-going, friendly. Good thing. I like the idea of photograph Men Who Love Their Dogs.

So we’ve reached a decision about Lulu’s dilemma and more significantly, the muddy mess at the new pasture gate. It was caused by flooding the trucks that went in and out to help building the fence, we have a little pond there. I’m not that worried about Lulu, she will get over it eventually as the other donkeys have, but we need to clean the mess up, so trucks and tractors can get in there as well as the animals. The pasture will need brushogging and there are things to remove back there – some dead deer carcasses and two old cars (farmers often used their woods as junkyards.

So we had Vince the excavator come by this morning and he came up with a good plan: next week he’ll come by with a tractor and some round stones and a 20 foot tube and he’ll dig a trench, put some gravel and stones down on either side of the gate, put the tube in and the stream will run the water through the tube and under the gate. There will be solid footing for the animals, us and any trucks or tractors that need to come through. For now, the donkeys have plenty of grass on the farm side of the gate. I don’t want Lulu to get too wedded to the idea that she can’t cross the space, so we are closing off the new pasture until Vince comes to clean it up. Photos and videos to follow, natch.

Lots of people offered advice and suggestions – I’ve decided to stop whining about all of the advice I get and just roll with it. Complaining doesn’t do any good. People mean very well. There are no good half-way solutions.  The stream down there is strong and fast-moving, we need to funnel it though an enclosed space let the rest of the area dry up. A good plan, I think, not at all expensive.