March 4, 2008 – Goats complain loudly about the sheep getting fed first.  I told then they were not in charge of the farm.

March 4, 2008 – Cheryl wrote me last night: “When I look at some pictures, I sometimes think that God is writing a beautiful story on your heart and through your life.” What a beautiful message. I am humble these days. I have no idea what God might be doing, or why he would be writing about me, but sentiments like that are like signals, beams of light coming through light and time and space, and they do, for sure, land on my heart, and in my life. If a photo can connect like that, or a story, then it is worth taking and worth writing. And that sort of thing makes every day a good day, ice storm or not.

March 4, 2008 – Check-up today, and I feel good. Want some quiet days.
  If you love animals, there is no greater gift you can give them than to hire Annie DiLeo. Every morning, she shows up in her pick-up, a burst of sunshine in a gray and cold winter. She and I have become good friends, and she always has a bizarre store about skunks, marauding rabbits, rescue birds and sexually imappropriate goats. I love starting my day in the farmhouse kitchen trading yarns with Annie about our days and experiences. Annie used to work in construction, building bridges, and then followed her bliss and headed to the country for a life around animals with her husband Joe, who has one of the great Brooklyn accents to be heard anywhere.
  She moves among the animals like a rural Pied Piper, talking to them, loving them, watching out for them, and they know it and are crazu about her. She thinks I don’t know it, but she’s given names to all the sheep. And she saved Winston’s life. Every animal on the farm, from the dogs to the cows, puts their hands together for Annie when she appears. You always know when Annie is here, as there is a veritable symphony of baahs, moos, barks, clucking and meeows.
  She also manages the farm with efficiency, from moving firewood and hay around to repairing fences. Life would not be imaginable without her, and she is, to boot, a loving, cheerful, funny and extraordinary human being. Very lucky to know her and she makes a wicked Bedlam Farm Goddess.
  If everyone was like Annie, the animals of the world would live in a Heavenly City.

Annie is always surrounded by farm animals, who flock to her.

Tossing hay to the goats. I used to call her “The Goat Lady of Cossayuna.” Then she was promoted to Bedlam Farm Goddess. I love her and appreciate her. She is awesome.
  So

March 4, 2008 – Rain, sleet. Ice storm coming. The farm has worked its way on Minnie, the formerly feral barn cat. She came to me as a kitten, and more than a year of my and Annie’s ministrations has changed her. She is rarely seen, but affectionate and comfortable when she is. She hangs around the dogs a bit, and always comes to curl around my legs or shoes and purr. She loves to be held and scratched. She goes off on mysterious benders all the time, disappearing for days, but always comes back and can usually be found hanging out in the barn with Winston and the chickens. I haven’t seen a mouse in awhile. And she has even made her peace with the imperious Mother, Queen of the Barn. When I go out in the morning, Minnie’s head is usually peering at me through a window or this chicken door.