I call this valley “Paradise Valley” because it is the most beautiful valley around me, and because one of the most beautiful old farmhouses sit down the hill, with a gorgeous red barn to the right. The clouds were astonishing today, a dramatic sky with a strong sun beaming in and out. It looked like a painting to me, and I couldn’t quite figure out how to capture this feeling of a farm in paradise. Paradise Valley.
I took my IR camera, and the picture was lovely and very soft, I made it black and white and used a pinhole effect to focus on the farmhouse, the valley and the clouds, to me, an almost perfect image of paradise. I try to evoke feelings in some of my pictures, I think the IR camera may help me do that on some occasions.
I’m happy – and a bit surprised – to report that the counter-raiding struggles with Fate are over, she no longer pulls food off of the counters or even pays much attention to what it up there. This week I tested her with chicken sausage, ravioli, cheese and crackers. I stood across the hall and watched her walk by the sausages – right on the edge of the counter – sniff up at them and go lie down.
I thought this would be a much longer and more protracted training issue, but it took about two weeks. Fate is smart enough to raid the counter if she really wants to, and smart enough to figure out it is forbidden.
I did this a number of ways. Once when she approached the counter with food on it, I threw a choke chain ahead of her and bounded it off of the cabinet. She backed away quickly.
Once I put a mousetrap up on the counter and Fate was watching me carefully – she misses absolutely nothing – and the trap snapped closed by itself. It was a loud crack and the trap flew onto the floor and Fate was startled and backed out of the room. Once as she approached the counter I said “no” sharply, and waved her back and away from the food.
Truthfully, the combination of those things seemed to do it. Fate pays no attention to the counter, she doesn’t approach it, sniff it, or study it in any way. This week, we’ve begun leaving her loose in the horse if we are out for short trips or errands. I left some crackers and other food there, it was untouched.
She’s had a half-dozen or so opportunities to raid food from the counter, she hasn’t done it, so I pronounce her trained, and I am glad. I don’t like having a dog you have to worry about and watch all the time, it poisons the relationship. I don’t wish to be shouting at her or watching her like a hawk.
Fate is the smartest dog I have ever had, and I have had some smart ones. I believe my visualizations also helped. Visualizing is not voodoo, it is simply imagining what you want to happen with focus and clarity. Dogs read every part of us, our smells, movements, emotions.
If Fate understands clearly that you don’t want her to do something, she stops doing it (except sometimes jumping on people when she gets excited, that’s the last one.) I’m surprised she got this so firmly, and so fast. Working with her is a treat.
On our farm, no food is thrown out that might be eaten by chickens, donkeys, ponies or barn cats. Every morning, Maria brings a gourmet treat out for the hens, who have become somewhat picky (sometimes they eat two-day blueberries, sometimes not) about their treats.
This week, she discovered they are made for watermelon rinds, they pick the rind right down to the skin. Since we love watermelon, this will be a good couple of weeks for them. It is a good thing to be one of Maria’s chickens.
Just a few miles from me, a hilltop, with big sky. In the late afternoon when it is this hot, the big and dark clouds roll in, leaving huge gaps for the sun to roll along the hillside, my IR camera softens the hills and the sky and catches the sun playing along the fields.
Joan Thomas runs “Joan’s Shear Secrets,” for many years, one of the seminal places in my town to get hair rinsed, colored, shaped or cut. Joan is a regal, almost imperious figure on Main Street, her schedule is always full, it takes a week or two to get to see her.
She is a presence, even sometimes an intimidating one, as institutions often are.
She knows every single thing that is happening in our small town – people talk to her all day, and she is a good listener – but she is famously discreet, she never discusses anything she hears.
She is my hair cutter, and I have to say I love going to Shear Secrets.
Joan runs a tight ship, and if the appointment is for 2:15 that is when it will begin. Hair cutting for me is not as important as it it to some people, I don’t have all that much left. Cutting my hair usually takes about 10 minutes, I like to take everything off the top (I do not care to try and hide my baldness) and trim the sides. It costs about $12.
It doesn’t rally matter where I go to get my hair cut, it never takes long and isn’t complicated. I go to chat with Joan. I go to soak up the feeling of community, the feeling of being in a small town.
In a town like Cambridge, the prominent hair dresser and cutter is a central presence. She matters, and in a way, the life of much of the town flows through her shop.
We talk about Disney World, and keep up on the rides and restaurants. Joan loves Disney World and knows it inside and out. And although I have found it to be overwhelming in recent years, she knows how to navigate it – no rides, inexpensive restaurants, the cheaper rooms, good planning.
We also talk about life, family, and share news of our lives. It’s comfortable but Joan has good boundaries, it doesn’t ever get to drama.
I feel comfortable with Joan, she knows what she is doing and is unfailingly gracious. There is something regal about Joan, something calming about going there, her place is always neat and swept, it has a kind of 50’s feel to it.
I am enjoying the portrait series, it is helping me to understand my life and to connect with the faces that make up the community that is our town. I am also learning about the psychology of portrait-taking. How I behave has a lot to do with the photos I take. The portrait show is scheduled for September in the Round House. Should be fun.
It will be painful editing these down, I’ve taken 40, we have room for 20 or 25. I’m glad I have a curator. Joan was a bit anxious when I started taking her photo, but she loosened up, and I got a wry smile out of her that seemed to capture her soul a bit.
