Month: December 2015

“Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come,
Whispering ‘it will be happier’…” – Alfred Lord Tennyson

My New Year’s Wish?

I hope that in 2016, I make many mistakes. If I am making mistakes, it means I am learning, living, loving, thinking creating, growing, creativity. It means I am alive. I have never cared for the company of people who never makes mistakes. They know nothing, they are hollow.

I hope that in this year to come, we all make mistakes, acknowledge them, and let go of them.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before. And you are doing things.

As always, in my endless and obnoxious pursuit of meaning, I have found some, I have only to look and think. The Pagan Book Of Days says that New Year’s Eve commemorates the solar divinity, Hogmagog.

Traditional festivities – sounds familiar here at the farm – include dressing in the hides and horns of animals (we do it all the time). Also “guising,” or the burning and smoking of sticks (called Hogmanays) to ward off evil sprites, and let in good spirits for the New Year. Also the eating of special cakes. My wife will love this holiday.

At the very moment of the new year, doors are opened and utensils rattled to drive off the last psychic vestiges of the old year and welcome the new, this Scottish chant was sung:

Get up, good wife, and shake your feathers,

   And dinna think that we are beggars,

  For we are bairns [babes] come out to play,

 Get up and gie’us our Hogmanay.

The idea of Maria shaking her feathers makes more sense to me than the ball dropping in Times Square, or the parties of scheduled joy. Whatever your poison, I hope it works for you.

This holiday season is forging a new spiritual and religious identity for me, a cross between mystical Judaism, Quakerism, the good and true Christianity of Jesus, and the paganism that marks my life, marriage and farm. Paganism is the religion of Mother Earth, it is widely practiced around this farm. I love this mix.

In this context, I guess the night does have meaning for me, most of all, I love the idea of opening my mind for the New Year and living it well and honestly.

I had a good and productive year, but I do like the idea of driving off the last psychic vestiges of the old 2015, and opening up our hearts and souls and minds for the new year just hours away. I reject nostalgia in all of its sappy forms, it is a trap. My life is in the present and the future, not the past.

I wish for myself the same thing I wish every day – a meaningful life filled with love and purpose and affirmation and creativity and friendship and accomplishment.

For me, this doesn’t need to be said, but it can’t ever hurt. I wish everyone a happy Hogmagog.

Get up and shake your feathers.

Before the storm, Red and Fate run in the woods. They run ahead to the end of the path, and turn and come back. They always come back. I have never had a dog run off from me, or run away from me. I don’t know why, really. Border collies never run off from the people who might take them to work, my Labs never ran off either.

I love to see these dogs living the life dogs were meant to live. A gift to me, as well as them. My heart always lifts when I see them run through the beautiful woods on the old country road, now a path in the forest.

 

Well, a new chapter for the farm. Another species of animal – this one loud and independent – is coming to Bedlam Farm next Spring. Five Purple Guinea Hens from the Cackle Hatchery in Missouri. Yes, we know, Guinea hens are loud, persistent, independent and fascinating. They are nothing like our regular hens.

Or any other animal we have had here.

And they devour pests.

Farmers say they are better guard animals than dogs or donkeys, they squawk and yell when strange people or animals come near the farm. They tend to choose their own roosts, but if we feed them in the barn, they will probably roost there. Or maybe in the apple tree, or maybe somewhere else. They race around in groups and sleep where they like.

They will not be our friends or our pets, they are not furbabies. And why are we getting them? Because we are strange, and they are strange, and their feistiness and independence suits us.

Loud and independent creatures belong at Bedlam Farm. Besides, they will clear the farm of ticks and fleas, and these days, that is no small thing, as it rarely gets cold enough long enough to kill off the ticks in the winter. And they will, of course, be great to photograph and write about.

They will also be a good match for Fate, she will regret it if she takes one step towards them, or try to train them. They are smart, maybe they can also herd sheep, although they resist instruction.

You can read more about them here, they also protect gardens from bugs and pests. And ticks beware.  I’ve been mulling Guinea hens for some time, I love their personalities, perhaps an interesting attachment issue. Maria is drawn to them as well, but they will not love her as the hens do, unless her pagan magic is even stronger than I think. I wouldn’t underestimate her, they may also love gourmet pasta.

Inside the coop, it is warm and dry. There is a heat lamp turned  on 24 hours a day in the winter to give the hens some warmth – they rarely need that – and to give them enough light to encourage them to lay eggs. This morning, the three Brahmas were up and walking around, the Rhode Island Red was still in the roost. The White Hen still chases her away from the food once in awhile.

We put fresh corn meal in their feeder twice a day, along with a water bowl, we change the hay two times a week. If the hens look out and see snow, they won’t come out of the coop.  They’ll stay in there for days until they see ground. I’m thinking of getting some guinea hens, they sleep in the trees and bushes. Guard hens.

One of the pleasures of my life is going to my Post Office Box (P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816) every day and getting the most loving and interesting and amazing messages from everywhere delivered in the form of cards and letters. Many of the cards and letters contain checks for subscriptions and payments for the blog, many are just lovely letters, musings and greetings from every part of the country and some of the world.

Today, one of the most engaging came, a letter from Shirley Foster in Gresham, Oregon with a heartfelt letter and a Christmas Money card made, it seems of $5 and $1 bills. It’s one of the most creative messages I’ve gotten in awhile, and I don’t believe I have the heart to break it up and spend the money. I guess I do wonder how much it is, but is quite sweet, an innovative way to look at a Christmas gift.

“My heartfelt thanks to you for sharing your lives, thoughts, artistry and creativity, fabulous animals, sense of community, and how it all fits together on bedlamfarm.com. Through your eyes, camera and words, I’ve seen the beauty of nature all around you, felt the joy in seeing simple things that most people do not see and reflecting upon them, and thinking how wonderful the Internet is to have brought so many like-and-not-so like minded people together in a global forum to share idea about any topic under the sun.”

Shirley said she is hoping to come to an Open House soon and meet us and the animals. I hope she does, I know she is someone I would love to meet and know. I imagine she is a hugger.

There is something wonderful about getting letters that people have taken the time to write by hand, then post and stamp and send. It requires a thoughtfulness and affection that is rarely transmitted online or through Facebook messages or tweets. I see that many people still write letters, and it is such a joy to read them, I feel as if I have traveled around the country some mornings.

“Please accept the enclosed small token of thanks to both of you to perhaps buy treats for the animals, Dahlia’s for your garden in the spring…whatever you decide to do with it. It’s from the bottom of my heart and soul to each of you.”

Your heart and soul are quite large, Shirley, you make what I do so worthwhile. The dogs, donkey and pony will get some treats. Even the barn cats.

___

Note: I see many people prefer paying for their subscriptions by check, I appreciate that. If you choose to do that, the annual subscription rate is now $75 per year, and you can send checks to P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. I am very grateful for these letters and messages (no money is necessary), I can’t begin to say what they have meant to both of us, we have the sweetest time sitting before the fire at night opening them and reading them to one another. They are an antidote to the harshness of the outer world. Don’t ever succumb to the greedy and evil messages of their news, Maria and I have been swimming on this stream of good people, they are plentiful and blessed. Thanks, Shirley.