One of the things that made the Open House special for me and for Maria was Jackie Thorne, who read from her new and quite wonderful book, Gone To Ground, published last week. About 60 people were gathered around her when she read three poems and talked about her connection to nature.
Jackie is the real deal, she knows how to write, her poetry is expressive and haunting, she writes with a quiet grace that sinks deep into the reader. It was beautiful to see her reading in the Poetry Corner under our apple tree, and to see the rapt faces of the people listening. You can check out her book here.
Jim McRae lives in Vermont, but roams the Northeast shearing sheep, something he loves. To him, it is an art to be practiced with skill and compassion, and also care. He has some bone-chilling stories to tell about the ways a shearer can be injured or hurt. He knows how to hand sheep and how to help them if they are injured or strain muscles.
These are the ancient arts of rural life, and they are in danger. These craftsmen, these farriers, shearers and equine dentists represent a way of life. It is always a struggle for them, fewer and fewer people keep large flocks of sheep, they live for the love of work, not money. I hope I can get Jim McRae to come to every Open Hose we have, he touches people deeply and leave them thinking and talking for hours.
Jim McRae is one of Vermont’s most respected shearers (and border collie trainers), he is also a photographer. He is skilled and experienced at the very difficult and very physical art of shearing. It is a joy to watch him work, and at the Open House, he also told wonderful stories about shearing and about it’s history, dangers and challenges. I could listen to him a dozen times, and if I’m lucky, I just might.
We opened up the pasture so Open House visitors could stand outside of the pole barn and watch. They were mesmerized. Above, he trims Liam, the wether.
The first day of the Open House seemed perfect to me, and that is not a word I throw around lightly. It was everything we hoped it would be, meant it to be and have worked for it to be. Just the right number of people, at just the right time, for just the right reasons.
It was not about money or politics or fear or cruelty, it was very much about encouragement and connection. About the strength and beauty of the human spirit. About other people reaching up to the sky, through fear, neglect and so many other obstacles.
It was about our very dear friend Mary Kellogg, now 86, walking with a cane, struggling to hear, reading the beautiful poems she showed Maria and I at the dawn of our relationship.
She is coming back Sunday to read her poems again, she said she wouldn’t miss it for the world. Graceful, beautiful Mary, coming out as a poet, taking the plunge, risking so much to bring her work out into the world. About Helen Golden and her friend coming up again to see us, and tell us how connected she feels to our work and our home.
It was about Jackie Thorne, a student in my writing class reading some very beautiful poems from her new book “Gone To Ground.” And Ed Gulley, our friend and dairy farmer selling so many of his sculptures and wooden flowers, a watershed for him and his emerging life as an artist who also runs a dairy farm. And Rachel Barlow, overcoming years of struggle and difficulty to bring her beautiful landscapes and prints and sell so many.
And Betty in her wheelchair, struggling across the lawn, all the way from Ohio to tell me how much my books had meant to her. And my cherished friend Ron Dotson, a war veteran and minister from the Midwest who has devoted himself to doing good, and does so much. A quiet, gentle, unassuming man who doesn’t wish to bother me, who rarely contacts me, yet we love one another. I am always so grateful to see him, he pops up here and there.
The Open House was about Carol Law Conklin coming to talk about her beautiful batiks and scarves and prints. And the couple from New Jersey who drove up to tell me how much my book “Going Home: Finding Peace When Pets Die,” meant to them when their Lab Mitzi got bone cancer. And the couple from Minneapolis who came to say how much the words of encouragement we write on our blogs means to them.
I realized after she had left that the good nurse who draws my blood had come to see me at the Open House, I didn’t recognize her out of context and out of uniform. I looked for her everywhere – she came with her boyfriend – but they were gone. I wanted to give her a hug. I imagine I will get to see her again.
And the woman from California who came to say “Running To The Mountain” inspired her own move to a cabin in the mountains. And the many people who read and support the blog and my books so faithfully, and who frequently corrected me about the dates and other details in my life that they knew better than I do.
I know what they mean when they say they are not worthy. I am not. When people tell me how much I mean to them, I blush with shame and cringe with uncertainty. I have so far to go.
I believe in being honest here, and the last Open House was in part a painful experience for me, a group of people I thought to be my friends, and professed to be my friends, were not, and they brought darkness and conflict to my idea of the Open House, and made me wonder if I had ruined it in some way.
I have worked through so many issues in my life, and have so many more to deal with. The betrayal of friends is a hard one for me, a shadow on my heart.
It is something to let go of, not to dwell on, but there it is. Some things are just hard. The shadow was lifted today, I don’t think they will return. I feel cleansed, it is done. The Open House has found itself. Sometimes, you just need to do nothing to right yourself.
Today, everywhere we looked we saw people who were inspired to be what they knew they could be. We have no magic wants to waver over the spirits of people, they have to free themselves.
Between three and four hundred people came to see us, they started coming at ll and began leaving at 4 p.m. People were gracious and uplifting all day.
They oohed and ahhed at Red and Fate, and love watching Fate’s spectacular outruns around the sheep. Fate is full of enthusiasm, her working goals are flexible.They crowded into Maria’s Schoolhouse Studio to look at the art she had so lovingly assembled.
Fate is a rock star, she is as much-loved for not really herding sheep as Red is for herding them so well. And when I think of all those people screaming at border collies in all of those herding trials, I felt good about myself and grateful for her. I do learn, however slowly and painfully.
We brought visitors into the pasture to watch Jim McRae, our shearer, tell the story of shearing in words, poems, movement and body language. He was riveting, a wonderful performer as well as a lover of sheep. This is a side of him I never saw before, and when I ask him about it, he simply says I never asked. This is true.
I will not make that mistake again.
And there was the buoyant sight of Maria, holed up in the Studio Barn with her artists, all of them happy, connected, eager to talk about their art and share their day of encouragement and attention. Artists, like writers, work alone, and it is a gift to them to come out into the light, as it is for writers.
The crowd was just the right size, a steady flow of people, never overwhelming or too quiet.
And there was Cathy Stewart, who took time out of her very busy life and hard work to stand with me all day and help me deal with crowds, the schedule, gently nudged me to stop for lunch, brought me water, kept me focused. What have I done to deserve a gift like that? Her support alone changed the tenor of the Open House, made me feel on solid ground, gave me so much strength.
Cathy was enormously helpful, the schedule came out perfectly, one good thing after another with some breathing room in between. She even chalked scheduled events on a blackboard. She is something that was needed.
We will take a breather and then, in a week or so, start planning for October, the bigger of the two Open Houses, slated for Columbus Day Weekend. Two years ago, just after my open heart surgery, I thought I would never get through the next Open House, but I did. I remember feeling so wobbly and light-headed in the sun, I did not feel that today.
I gave thanks today for how much stronger and healthier this surgery had made me .
So for many reasons, this Open House was an affirmation for me, turn to the light. It reminded me, and Maria, of what we are about, why we are here in the world living our lives and sharing them. Thanks to you all for that.
Maria asked me how I felt about, like me she wanted our Open Houses to return to their true purpose. I said it was perfect, it was a beautiful day. We are both so tired, it’s a good place to leave it. I have to pup up a few more photos, then sleep.
Nikoline Norman was once called the Bedlam Farm Barn Fairy, that was just a few years ago but seems much longer, she is no longer a fairy or princess, she deserves to be called by her own name, she is a young woman who loves animals and has grown up among them.
I remember the day she hopped onto one of my donkeys’ back and rode her around the barn. She was as at home as any cowboy in a rodeo. Today she came to the farm with her parents, Ken and Eli Norman to trim the donkey’s hooves and visit our Open House.
She quickly went over to Chloe, our pony and began braiding her tail. Chloe accepted this as if it happened every day, and now, it just might. We are always happy to see Nikoline, she will have a live of meaning and adventure I believe.
