I am intricately involved in Sylvie’s quite unique mail system. On any given afternoon, she is to be found in the Mansion hallway, writing letters to her now numerous friends and correspondents. Her method is distinctive. Most days, there is a huge pile of letters freshly returned from the U.S. Post Office because Sylvia forget to put the return address on the envelope, or put a stamp on it.
As a supplier of her notecards and stamps, I can tell you she has her own original ideas about messages.
Sometimes she forgets to put the letters in the envelope, sometimes she puts the stamps on the letters, not the envelope. When letters comes back, she says she just considers each message a prayer sent out into the world. She doesn’t resend it or rewrite it, is God’s work to get the message out there.
I often sit with her to help, but she doesn’t want too much help with the letters, they are important to you and she reads every one, and she answers every one but do not worry or be surprised if her thank you and follow-up letters do not arrive. it is not for lack of trying or caring. And many times, they do arrive.
I’ve gotten Sylvie stamps, all kinds of notecards, licked the stamps myself. When it comes to mail, Sylvie is something of a chaos machine. They are all prayers, she says, smiling at me, no matter how they get there.
Today I brought Sylvia a plastic bag full of notecards, of which I have a 10-year supply, courtesy of the Army Of Good. No member of the Mansion will want for notecards and stamps in my lifetime and neither will Sylvie.
If you wish to want to write Sylvie and are patient, she will write you back and her messages are delightful, interesting and original when they get there. You can write Sylvie c/o Sylvie, The Mansion 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.
If you wish to help the Mansion residents built a beautiful summer flower and vegetable garden, you can go here.
We went to see Mary Kellogg at the Holbrook Adult Home, (73 North Street, Granville, N.Y., 12832) she is recovering from a broken hip and working hard to get home. We brought her the final proofs for her fourth book, “This Is My Life,” Maria and I are publishing it together.
Mary look good, she is still using a walker and sees her doctor tomorrow, she is hopeful of getting home, she doesn’t know if it will be possible. While we were there, Mary took out a box of your letters and read them to us. She loves getting them, she hopes to get more.
She is also very excited about her new book, her fourth volume of poetry, she plans to read some of her poems at our October, Columbus Day Weekend Open House. Mary looked great today, we were both shocked when she hopped over to the bed, sat down and pulled herself up against the wall.
We had a sweet visit, when Mary got tired, we left. (I fell asleep myself for five minutes, the room was warm and I was tired. Maria laughed and woke me up.
If you wish, please feel free to write Maria, she sometimes get bored and loves to read you messages and letters. She has gotten quite a few, and thanks. Mary Kellogg, Room 2 C, 73 North Street, Granville, N.Y., 12832
At the Mansion, I am always on the prowl to learn of the resident’s needs. Guerta is a tough nut, she only speaks Creole and generally refuses to ask for anything. I try to move quietly and fill the holes in people’s lives there. Some people are eager for help, some people ruin from it.
I heard from three people that she urgently needed shoes and was waiting for a monthly Social Security check to get them.
Here shoes, I was told, were falling apart. They were old and worn and causing her feet some pain.
I wasn’t sure Guerta would accept a gift of shoes – she is fiercely proud – so I found out her size, ordered a pair of black sneakers online, and had them shipped to the farm. I brought them into the Mansion today and gave them to an aide, who took them to her room.
A few minutes later, she came walking down the hall beaming and speaking excitedly (in Creole.) Two of the aides ratted me out and pointed to me, and said “he bought the shoes,” and Guerta came up to me beaming and asked me “how much can I pay you.”
Nothing, I said, they are from the Army of Good and she smiled and looked a bit puzzled. “Thank you, thank you,” she said. After we left, I had this flash, I realized there were no books in Creole for Guerta to read, so I went online and found two: Janjak and Freda Go to the Iron Market, Creole Edition, by Elizabeth Turnbull, and The Coconut Tree (Pye Kokoye, Haitian Edition, Creole Edition.) They”ll be here by the end of the week. They cost $26.65. The walking shoes cost $63.50.
I think the books will make a big difference to her.
This is a good example of the work we do, small acts of great kindness. I’ve never seen Guerta smile like that. If you want to support my work, you can send a contribution to The Gus Fund, , Jon Katz, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, or via Paypal, [email protected]. Please mark your checks “The Mansion.” Thanks.
(This afternoon, a resident asked if she could speak privately with me, she looked stricken. She said the government says she owes them $8,000 from social security overpayments and has cut off her monthly payments, the only money she receives at the Mansion. I read the letter, and it seemed outrageous to me that the government would penalize her for their error, and cut off her funds.
She lives in assisted care, there is no way she can pay the money back.
A member of the staff is taking her to the IRS next week to talk to someone in person, she has been unable to reach anyone on the telephone. She has a family, and they are involved, but she is angry and terrified. She has help, I don’t believe she needs any further help from us, at least not now. She has the name of a lawyer if she needs one, It is difficult to see her feel so powerless. It was great to see Guerda so happy)
Graphic Designer Sara Kelly sent over the first proofs of the Army Of Good Bumper Stickers I’m hoping to sell and distribute them to the very good people who have joined me on this great adventure. Our way of spreading the word and even spotting one another in unexpected places.
The cost will be high enough that I will have to charge for the bumper sticker, this is America, and nothing is as cheap as we expect
I’ve decided to sell them only on Maria’s Etsy site and through my Post Office box. No Paypal or e-mail, it will be too difficult to separate them from the regular donations.
I am determined to keep the cost as low as possible, but I might charge enough so that they can be a donation to our work, which is fitting, something like $10. Any money above the production costs – the design, stickers and new envelopes – would go to the Gus Fund for the refugees and Mansion residents.
Please do not try to order them yet, they have not been chosen and I can’t save orders or take pre-orders. I can’t be responsible for any orders that come in before they go on sale, if we get that far, thanks. I am drowning in e-mail messages.
These are the first three designs, not the last.
Of the tree, I discarded the middle one immediately – too much like a stained glass church window, and am drawn to the first. I like the idea of the sunrise, I think it reflects the spirit and energy of the AOG, but I asked Sara to try a design without the mountains. They seem a bit hokey to me. No. 3 doesn’t really work for me, but see what you think.
I like the font of No. 2. I asked Sara if she could keep the sun and get rid of the rays in No. 1. I’m a Steve Jobs follower, simple is always better. I don’t want the bumper sticker to look like a New Mexico license plate. I do think the sun is a neat idea, and colorful, it would be seen.
Maria likes No.1 with the mountains, but also without it. (I really think we need fewer rays), she went to it right away.
I would be interested in hearing what you think, either by posting on my blog below, or e-mailing me at [email protected] or by posting on my Facebook page, where this post will appear. You people have to like the bumper stickers, and you have earned a say.
I’m calling the top No. 1, the middle No. 2, and the bottom No. 3.
I’d like them to be fairly large, not tiny, but not too conspicuous either.
As I mentioned a couple of days ago, Gus’s mother, Hannah, is in heat, and Gus’s breeder, Robin Gibbons wants to breed her once more time. We have asked to get a dog from the litter, and Robin has agreed. So we’re on track for another puppy, if all goes well.
Gus died a couple of months ago, and he is helping one of our gardens grow. We are ready.
Getting a new dog is a familiar and cherish ritual for me. First, there are the people lining up to tell me how to get a dog, these would be strangers trawling the Internet to tell other people what to do. “Adopt!,” was one cryptic message on my Facebook Page the other day. “Drink Milk!,” I answered. She fled.
Since we are getting the same breed from the same breeder and using the same vet and living in the same town things will be simplified. Dr. Fariello is right down the street, and so is Robin, we can visit Hannah’s pups as often as we wish. We have saved Gus’s crate and toys.
All we need is some fresh puppy food.
One person e-mailed me to say she thought it was unethical to get a dog because I am 70 years old and might well die before the puppy. I find that an absurd ethical idea. Older people can be wonderful pet owners, they can easily arrange for someone to care for their dogs if and when they die, it happens all the time.
And Maria is a good deal younger than I am, the dog is quite unlikely to outlive her. I do believe dogs are healthy, for many reasons, from walking and exercise to stimulation to fun and companionship. They take good care of me and I take good care of them.
Gus was a wonderful dog, we loved him and wanted to try another Boston Terrier. I want to finish the journey we started with Gus, to learn about the small dog, learn more about training and attachment.
But this is a different new dog experience. In a way, I see it as a resumption of something that was interrupted, but that could be unfair to the new dog. He or she, if they are born at all, will not be Gus, they will be a different dog.
Maria and I both were a bit worried that we would carry over some of the worry and sadness from the Gus experience and be over-cautious or protective of the new puppy. i don’t want to do that, I hope to shed those feelings and start fresh. We don’t really have any idea what caused Gus’s megaesophagus, so it’s hard not to be concerned that we might be repeating it.
All of the research I did – and it was a lot – says it is very rare in the BT breed, and not common at all. We just don’t know what caused it. So we will just move forward and treat the new dog the same way we treated Gus.
I am pleased that we make our own decisions, and are not affected by what others tell us to do. They are not our friends, or acting out of our best interests. As always, I believe the best way to get a dog is to get the dog I want, not the dog other people tell me to get.
Getting a dog, especially a puppy, is a joy.
We still want the new puppy to be part of our lives, get to know the farm animals, be at home in the pasture. He or she will spend time with me when I write and Maria when she works, he or she will walk in the woods with us and drive around with us. Our dogs are very rarely alone for more than a couple of hours.
We will crate train the new dog, and I will do my basic obedience and calming training. Our farm is a very good place to be a dog, and with any luck, the puppy will be here for the October Open House, along with Ed Gulley and his art and Mary Kellogg and her new book of poems.
Gus adapted well to the farm and winter, we’ll see how hardy this new dog is. I suppose what I’m saying is I want to make sure I don’t see this new dog as Gus reincarnated. He or she will be different, and that should be respected. Gus didn’t want or need sweaters, this dog might.
Otherwise, we are already prepared. I’ll wait to hear from Robin that the breeding took and then hope that Hannah has some healthy and happy babies, just as she did the last time.
When we heard the news, we both were so happy we realized this is something we need. Can’t wait.
