I love New York City but I love Bedlam Farm more. It’s my home, my America. Whenever I come back, I sort of have the feeling that I could not sell the farm, could not leave. I go back and forth about it, as you known, and I give myself a headache fussing about it. But Bedlam Farm has become a name that means something to a lot of people, and I am writing up a storm here – short stories, childrens’ books, novels, book proposals, the blog, and photographs. Something about the place opens up the deepest creative vein and me, and so how could I leave that? I have to talk more with Maria about it, but I don’t see how I can do that now.

Even as I know I don’t really need such a place (and thanks, but the land is not suitable for leasing to other farmers, nor is the cost of taxes a factor). I have to make a decision about this soon, as people are starting to get interested, now that it’s Spring.