Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

There is no greater gift for Maria than taking her to a wonderful art museum like Mass. MoCa in North Adams, Massachusetts. The big storm was just showing up as we left to head home.

I took a headshot of Maria in the museum, a self-portrait of me in a men’s room, and a shot of Maria walking through one of the galleries. I’m just too tired to put up more photos tonight, my apologies. We’re either getting clobbered by a massive Nor’easter tomorrow or will narrowly escape the worst of it. Won’t know until tomorrow.

But we have to be ready for either and this was already a long (and wonderful day). So I’ll put up these three shots tonight and a few more tomorrow. Thanks for coming along. Our new generator is ready and so are we.

(Self Portrait of me and my Leica: I think that is me right now at this point in my life.)

It is a great joy to see Maria in a museum, she is never happier or more at home. She could walk around forever and Mass MoCa is a huge place, perhaps the biggest museum in the country.

Mass MoCa is a great one, we are so lucky to have a museum of this scope and caliber near us. I’ll put up a few more photos tomorrow. Time for rest and some storm preparation.

Maria in the galleries.

We had a beautiful time today celebrating Maria’s birthday. First, we went to Mass MoCA, the great modern art museum in a vast restored mill in North Adams, Mass. Then we had lunch in their cafe; then we went to a beautiful plant store called the Plant Collector, a few miles from the museum.

Emily, the owner, a recent and happy refugee from New York City, has put herself right at the epicenter of the succulent and air plant sweeping plant lovers all over the country since the pandemic began. Maria has scores of succulent and air plants, and she claims I’m getting into it. I think she is right.

Emily is great, and we will be seeing her again and often, I imagine.

I saw many things I wanted to buy for Maria in Emily’s shop; she wanted the small one in the front of the photo (of course the smallest one), she said she didn’t have one like it. I saw this giant air plant (above right) and bought it as a birthday present for Maria.

We then had our usual fight when I tried to buy her something in a store. She wanted to get something for me. This is your birthday, I said, not mine.

She insisted on buying something for me, and I gave in – there are reasons why Maria gets along so well with donkeys – and she purchased the two graceful air plants and the metal vase they were standing in.

I wanted to take her to a vintage clothing store up the road in the hope of getting her something there, but Maria never likes shopping, especially for herself, so we came home to face a bunch of hungry dogs,  donkeys, and sheep. I’ve got three air plants on my desk now, but I had a blast in the plant store. I think we’re jumping on this plant train. It seems in some way to be healing and nourishing.

I guess we just like taking care of living things. Something weird is happening to me, I’m loving vegetables and buying plants. I’m starting to scare myself.

When we got home from Mass MoCA the cavernous art museum in North Adams, Mass.,, a highlight of Mafia’s  birthday celebration,  Zinnia’s new bed was waiting for us in a box much like the one our mattress came in.   We opened the box, cut the plastic bag and it just puffed right out.

It didn’t take long for Zinnia to find it and hop in.

It didn’t take Bud long either, he climbed right in with her. Fate, as usual, wanted no part of this cosseting, she is happy to sleep in a much smaller dog bed where she can curl up.

But wasted no time in checking out the new dog bed, he thinks every surface in the living room is a private bed for him. The dog beds are for dogs, and thus, beneath the Little King. He did jump in to check things out. We’re keeping his wicker throne in the living room, Zinnia’s bed was not as big as we thought it might be.

She loves it, and we’re happy to have a good resting place for the Queen of Chill. It’s up to her now, we don’t interfere in dog politics.

Bud has no qualms about taking the bed over when Zinnia went to get a drink of water. They’ll have to work things out. Zinnia has no idea she is big, and Bud has no idea he is small.

They’ll probably end up sleeping together is my bet, they are best pals.

This Leica photo asks a question we all ask at one time or another in our lives: what’s on the other side of the door? An irresistible night shot.

This morning, I’m taking Maria on a whirlwind birthday celebration. First to Mass MOCA, the wonderful museum in North Adams, Mass. The museum is set in a vast restored mill, an amazing place to see lots of great art.

Then, we’re going to a nearby plant store where I will get her some new plants. And then, to a vintage clothing store where she might find some clothes to buy. We might try an Asian restaurant along the way.

We’ll be home this afternoon, and have plenty of time to get ready for the Nor’easter sailing up the coast. Our generator is ready, my gut says this won will not bother us too much.

I’m taking the Leica to Mass MOCA, a good place for it. Later.

Zinnia’s new bed is arriving today, and some people have expressed concern that Bud will not have his own place to sleep. This photo might help assure people. Bud sees the entire house as his bed – carpets, sofas, chairs, blankets, everything in front of a wood stove.

Last night, he burrowed his way underneath and pillow and on top of a pile of blankets. You could hear him snoring across the room. I’ll keep everybody posted, but Bud will be fine, no matter what happens. And my bet is that Maria will insist Bud keeps his wicker throne.