Sunday, Maria and I are going to New York City for the day to see Robin. It’s been a month or so, and I can tell from the photos Emma sends me that Robin is changing. I need to get a look.
Robin has already transformed my relationship with Emma.
I think she needs to talk to me once in awhile about having a kid of her own. Things are settling down, Emma has gone back to work, Robin is in day care. I imagine that was a difficult day for my daughter. The week before, she lost Pearl, she loved that dog very dearly.
Emma doesn’t quite grasp it, I don’t think, but I am going to Brooklyn to see her as much as Robin.
Robin doesn’t need me much yet, Emma does, at least a bit. I think we balance each other out in some ways. A father is supposed to help make a child feel safe, I try to do that. I joke with her often that I’m sorry she didn’t quite get the father she deserved, a saner, more predictable one.
My move to the country and my divorce disrupted our relationship somewhat, it is returning of its own volition.
Robin has certainly helped that. I have no illusions that Robin will know or remember me much at this point, but I do feel a pull to see her and stay in touch with her and try to be supportive of Emma.
I make my daughter nuts sometimes, and I will do my best to subvert law and order in the household.
I trawled the Internet for two rattles that bark, whistle whirl,sing, light up, spin and record voices. They were not easy to find. That will delight Robin I am sure and make everyone crazy.
The other night I said we ought to meet soon at the Bronx Zoo, we’ll drive down and meet them there, and I could tell Emma was shocked and wary. Let’s wait a year until she knows what an animal is, she wisely suggested. Oh, let’s go sooner, I said, she will love it there.
Emma didn’t remember, but I did, that I took her to the Bronx Zoo when she was seven or eight months old. I had already taken her to Disney World and she has no memory of either experience. But I swear her eyes popped out of her head when she saw an elephant and a baby goat in the petting zoo. Excitement is contagious.
Was I insane to take her to these places (some movies too) when she was so young? I suppose so, but it felt good and it was fun, and I imagine she soaked that up in one way or another. She sure seemed happy, even if she didn’t have words yet.
Maybe I can spring Robin for a trip on Sunday, something close and less ambitious. Emma is dubious. We’ll see.
Jay Bridge is our last resort, he is the godfather of our farmhouse, an engineer-become-handyman and friend. He says very little, he does a great deal.
It was Jay we called when the pipes burst in my study two winters ago, Jay we called when the frost-free pipes in the basement leading to the pasture froze mysteriously one day, Jay we called to build a storm window for the bedroom so our bottles of water wouldn’t freeze in the night, Jay who came to rebuild the front porch we discovered was rotting away, Jay we called when we couldn’t close the back door leading to the woodshed.
And it is Jay we called when we failed in our umpteenth effort to install gutters off of the roof in the back of the house to keep mountains of water and melting snow from pouring off of the roof and down into the foundations and the basement and covering the slate back porch floor with sheets of ice in he winter. It was just a matter of time….
The gutters were the first project I undertook when we moved to the farmhouse, I lost count of how many people I asked to install them. It seemed that none of the big men in trucks wanted anything to do with gutters, none of them knew how to put them up, none of the wanted to try.
Our friend Ben put some up on the north side of the porch, but he went on to be hot stuff and was no longer available to do gutters.
Even Maria succumbed to the gutter campaign and spent hours on ladders trying to put a gutter up, but the slope was wrong, the roof bent, I begged her to drop it and call Jay, and she finally succumbed. It was deep into the third year of my gutter campaign, and I have great faith in Jay, even last week, as it poured and torrents of water rained down on the porch again. This will never get done before the winter, I thought.
I texted Jay and he said he would come by and take a look.
When Jay comes, he looks at the project, and says little or nothing. He just goes to fix it. So far, there is nothing he has been confronted with that he didn’t fix.
Jay was trained as an engineer and worked for companies like GE and major consulting firms.
He is a big man with a big truck, but he is different. He is very quiet. He doesn’t yak with the other big men in trucks, or gossip or tell jokes. He doesn’t say much of anything. He does whistle when he works. I cannot say how grateful we are to know him. I heard of him when his wife Judy came up to me in the food co-op in town and said, “you ought to know my husband Jay. He fixes things and you would like him.” He does fix things and I like him very much. He was one of the people whose portraits I took, in fact, for my portrait show.
Jay and I go to lunch once in awhile and he said one day “I don’t talk that much.” I nodded and said, that’s okay, I talk a lot. We get along very well and I enjoy our lunches. He has a quick and easy sense of humor and a meticulous and thoughtful way about him.
Every after, he goes home to have lunch with his wife Judy and have some tea.
He does this even if our house is on fire and about to collapse.
He is skilled in every aspect of carpentry and plumbing. To take on our gutter, he measured the roof and went home and hand-carved and painted the right attachments and supports, he carefully measured the gutter angle with a string and a level so it would drain properly, he hums and whistles quietly while he works, I actually like hearing him whistle when I write. It is soothing. When Jay is here, you know it will be done.
I called Jay two years when a pipe burst and water was pouring into my study and threatening the wires that lead to my computer and the sockets built into the floor. He said he would be over as soon as he finished his tea. I managed to find a lever in the basement to stop the water.
In an hour, he came and the pipe was removed and replaced, the water was running, the bill was strikingly reasonable. There is no drama and little discussion with Jay, he just gets it done well. He insulated the frost-free plumbing inside the house and in the barn, there has been no more trouble with it.
Jay is nearly done with our gutter work, the main gutter is installed, he just has to attach the drainpipe.
There will, I think, be no more water pouring onto the porch or into the foundation. Our longest-running project is nearly complete. Next week, he will return with the drainpipe part he needs and also the new storm window to keep us warm in the bedroom this and every winter.
Jay doesn’t really like gutter work, but he loves a challenge. I asked him if he would come bye in the Spring to put a gutter on the back of the house. Sure, he said. I can’t believe we actually have a gutter on the back of the house. Life is good.
Last week, I mentioned that Maria was thinking of letting Chloe go to another home or farm where she might have more work to do. Two people have come bye to meet her, and we were impressed by them them and they seemed to love Chloe, but for various reasons, it didn’t work out.
We realized it would be very possible to send Chloe to a new home, but we also are uncertain about it.
I think we are moving towards keeping Chloe, it is an interesting discussion on the farm, Maria and I are reversing roles a bit.
Maria loves Chloe and is very happy she is here, and the pony seems equally fond of Maria, they both get along so well, a relationship of trust, love and nurture. Chloe gives me a bit wet kiss every morning, it’s a great way to start the day.
Maria is extremely conscientious about animal care, and like me, she believes that working animals ought to work and have work to do. So do I.
As the New York Carriage Horse controversy reminded me yet again, there is a great schism in the country between people who own pets and people who own animals (the animal rights movement doesn’t seem to like either group).
People who own pets find the idea of re-homing an animal horrifying, people who live with working animals understand that animals like dogs and ponies and carriage horses and many elephants are born and bred to work and desperately need work in order to be healthy and content. Work is not abusive or cruel or exploitive for working animals.
We are sending countless working animals – ponies, elephants, horses – to idle lives on rescue preserves or to slaughter because there is nothing for them to do once we feel better about ourselves by banning them from their work.
So when I mentioned we might give Chloe to another family or farm, there was some of the usual squawking from people who understand nothing about animals who work. I specialize in ignoring those people.
Maria doesn’t ride and she often feels guilty about Chloe, she thinks the pony should have more work to do, like having children and other people ride them. Maria is very busy these days, and sometimes things (she is wrong) that she is neglecting the animals. That is what a conscientious animal lover often feels, it is a healthy thing to worry about, horse trainers will tell you that the horses they feel sorry for are not the ones who work, but the ones who don’t.
I believe Maria is being too hard on herself, as sometimes happens. She spends time with all of the the animals every day, she is very aware of all of them, checks on them every day, she helps feed them, grooms and trains and trims and brushes Chloe every day. She sits with the donkeys every day, Lulu and Fanny adore her.
I think Chloe is quite happy here, and I think we are both very happy to have her here. She has added something to our lives. She looks healthy and is alert and active and affectionate. She has enough land to roam around gets plenty of exercise.
She is learning to kiss, touch things, and has blended in beautifully with the other animals here. I cherish her loud whinny every morning when we get up and look outside the window.
I imagine if someone came along who wants a pony and could offer Chloe a better life than we do, we will always consider that. That is what we believe, especially for a pony. For now, I suspect Chloe will stay a part of the farm family.
At this time of year, I’m asking the readers of the blog and my books to consider the voluntary payment and contribution system which makes my work possible.
This is turning out to be a much more interesting and challenging year and time than I expected – life is like that.
I find myself doing more and more of what Anne, one of my readers, calls “Light Work,” work that transcends photography and my search for color and light. I think many of us are called now to think about who we are and who we want to be. I want to be part of an Army Of Good.
-This year will be a challenge and a test for all of us, regardless of our political beliefs. I am seeking out small acts of good and kindness.
I am working with a national refugee settlement group to help new refugees and their children. We have, thanks to you, already helped collect more than $3,000 for welcome bags for refugee children. Supporting immigrant refugees and especially their children will be a substantial part of my work this year. I could use a hand.
Red and I are stepping up our therapy work, in dementia units, assisted care facilities and veterans rehabilitation and treatment centers.
I continue to take photographs and share them with you and anyone else who wants to use them. To date, I’ve offered more than 60,000 images for free. The equipment is not free. I don’t charge for the photos or watermark them and you are free to use them in any way you wish. Photography is an expensive art, I have to spent about $3,000 in the next weeks and months for repairs and new equipment. I also want to buy a color portrait lens, which costs about $1,777. I especially want to use the lens in my refugee work, and also the animal photographs.
In my evolving portrait work, I seek to capture and share the images of the unseen, people who will never be on the news, but who are beautiful and important That is a critical and new part of my work and my mission. And of course, I will continue to maintain and publish my blog which now has nearly four million visits a year.
I’m putting off the purchase of a full frame Infrared camera for now, there are other priorities for me. The other camera costs can’t be put off.
As you know, the blog has raised more than $80,000 in support of farmers and animal owners and lovers who have been unfairly persecuted in their efforts to live and work with animals – Joshua Rockwood, a farmer, the New York Carriage Horses and their owners, several private citizens fighting to keep their dogs or cats in the face of unjust accusations.
We have helped raised more than $60,000 in support of projects related to the survival of community, including the struggle of the Round House Cafe to stay in its home or find a new one.
I imagine the coming months and years will increase the need and opportunity for “Light Works,” and I am ready and committed.
But I do need your support. My blog needs about $5,000 in maintenance fees and adjustments for mobile devices. The blog has grown in audience and function, and that is a gift to me, it has enriched my life and my work.
Even without those needs, the blog is expensive to maintain, there are fees and technical issues that constantly arise.
Then there is a farm – that’s another story. I don’t use support or contributions to pay for anything but the blog and the work the blog supports.
I’m asking for your support to continue to do this work, and some of the new work that seems sure to be presenting itself. Publishing has changed, and income from my books has been sharply reduced since the recession, for me and almost all authors. This is a new macro-funding idea, small contributions from many people. I believe in it.
This search for support is not a complaint, I love my blog and my work and my life, but in the new world of media, I can’t really do all of this by myself. The contributions have helped immeasurably. Small contributions from large numbers of people make it possible.
The big idea behind this kind of program is to pay for the work being done by artists and authors online. As people have moved online for their reading and entertainment and stimulation, it is only fair to pay people for their work and time. I spent many hours a week working on the blog and taking photos, and I appreciate being paid for my work.
Please consider the voluntary payment and contribution program. You can donate one time, or support the blog in small monthly payments, whichever suits you. You can send contributions by mail, if you prefer: Bedlam Farm, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. Or you can contribute via Paypal or major credit cards.
No financial information of yours is stored on my site or server.
I can’t start or stop subscriptions, it is simple for you to do that and control it yourself.
Subscriptions can be canceled at any time. Subscribers are warned a full week before any renewals are processed. It is very easy to cancel at any time. You can also cancel through Paypal or your credit cards should that be necessary. That has only been necessary two or three times in several years.
For your protection (and my sanity), I have no access to your money at any time.
So please consider supporting this work in any way or amount that is comfortable for you, in one payment or by subscribing. I want to say that people who can’t pay or don’t wish to are welcome to access my work for free, my blog will always be free to those who wish to read it, payments or no.
And thanks for thinking of this, thanks twice for supporting my work. And Happy Holidays to you.
