I told Maria when she called that it felt strange, standing out in the snow, taking a photograph of someone hauling a shovel full of manure out to the barn.
Maria snickered. “What’s different about that?,” she asked. A wise ass, even from Dubai. Still, she had a point. The sky was gorgeous this morning, the big storm seemed far away. Tomorrow, another storm, not as big as the last one. The farm is a living, organic thing.
No matter what we wish to project on them, the animals are primal and adaptable. If you feed them, they will love you and focus on you. It’s almost as if Cassandra Conety has been here for years, she just fits right on, as farm people do. This week I am already learning things about myself.
These two weeks, I am a writer, not a farmer or a writer with a farm. I ‘m a writer, just like when I started out many years ago. I have wanted to be a writer since I was eight years old, I love being a writer just as much now as I did when I started, and that is the meaning of these two weeks for me.
My editor and Maria were correct, this is what these weeks are about for me. We each get to have our own creative adventure.
I went out to take a photo of Cassandra doing the chores, and she laughed and asked if I really need to take a photo of her shoveling manure out of the barn, and I said, absolutely, I am open on the blog, that was the promise I made and she shrugged. She came into the farmhouse to check on the firewood and i told her I had brought some in myself, and she said, “listen, Maria will kill me if you have a heart attack while she is gone.”
Okay, i said, that was clear and direct. I am still working out this new program, where I sit on my butt in my warm office and somebody else comes her in the cold to do my chores.
Cassandra is not into drama and does not beat around the bush. The farm is nothing if not adaptable, and the animals are just as happy to see her bring the hay in the morning as me. She opens the door when she comes, and the border collies, whores for work, happily rush out the door, leaving me in the house without so much as a backward look.
Red rushes to the gate to look for me, but Fate could care less. Cassandra grew up on a farm, she moves quickly and efficiently through the chores, checking on the chickens and their feed, asking about the cats. She even asked me about Fate and her elimination habits.
This is not a small thing, Fate loves work so much she is known to forget about tending to her business, and sometimes needs to be reminded: as in “get busy,” one of my best and most useful commands.
Still, while Maria is off on her great adventure, I am here on the farm working on mine. I did too many things this morning – firewood, the laundry, water for the animals, the dishes. There is a lot to do here, Maria and I split a lot of it, but she has a more energy than I do, and moves a lot faster.
I did ask for help in the shoveling today, that is a sign of maturity. I am also grateful that I could so much shoveling and feel fine. I will learn some things about myself while Maria is away. Solitude can be healing and educating.
The idea is for me to focus on my work, not on the farm.
So I have to adjust to this.The farm is very different without Maria, I am many things, but not radiant. She is missed.
Cassandra is the perfect person to be here, she knows the importance of things – gates, the proper amount of hay (it comes from her parents farm.). She is strong, like most of the women around me these days. She is professional and misses nothing.
A ton of snow slid off of the roof and onto the porch, just after I had shoveled for hours. Cassandra cleared it off in about five minutes, then carried a load of firewood in in her arms. Creatively, I am seeing the possibilities. Tomorrow, no work of any kind int he morning but writing.
I’ll get up at four, my usual time, and shower and dress and hit the keyboards. I did get started on my next chapter. Talked briefly with Maria from Dubai, where she has a day to fill. We are both a bit disoriented, but she more than me, I am not halfway around the world with nothing to do in a strange place. She should be in Kolkata early in the morning Wednesday, then her journey really begins.
A refugee child – she lost everything, his friends, family, toys, house and room – sent me this photograph.
She asks me to thank you for her pink comforter, the blanket underneath it, , the new socks, toys and underwear on top of it. Your donations from the Amazon Refugee Gift Page set up by the U.S. Committee on Refugees And Immigration made this picture possible, and warmed the heart and life of a helpless and innocent child.
She is no threat to you, your family, or America.
She was just cold, and is now warm.
You are keeping the torch lit, you cannot imagine the good you are doing for people and families whose only crime is to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. This is how we judge our humanity, and how history will judge us. Today, I embrace my patriotic duty as a lover of America and a lover of liberty.
I want my granddaughter Robin to know what I did when these battered people came to our shores in search of refuge. I want her to know we sent them comforters, blankets, toys and socks, coffee pots, spoons, bowls and soccer balls. Smart phones, too.
You have let his child see that we are a generous and welcoming people, that the heart and soul of American remains just and compassionate and open. She feels safer because of you, and may learn to love America, not to fear it. The small and angry people want to send her back to a life of horror and hopelessness. I do not believe they will succeed.
A society that will take no risks to help others is barren at the core. You have touched this child with your heart.
I believe in the moral principles on which our country and government were founded. “What a stupendous, what an incomprehensible machine is man!,” wrote Thomas Jefferson, “who can endure toil,famine, stripes, imprisonment and death itself in vindication of his own liberty, and the next moment..inflict on his fellow-men a bondage, one hour of which is fraught with more misery than ages of that which he arose in a rebellion to oppose.”
Jefferson is really writing about hypocrisy, of course, also know as the vice of vices. The criminal troubles us, but only the hypocrite is rotten to the core, because he or she so readily rationalizes and justifies inflicting on others what he would never tolerate or accept on himself.
It is simple and inexpensive to show up and vote for our values, for our decency, for compassion, one of our greatest national moral principles. Just go to the refugee gift page. If we have no peace, said Mother Teresa, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other. Compassion is the basis of morality.
On the Amazon gift page, you can see scores of items, ranging from a $2 prayer mat, to Amazon gift cards, to a set of school backpacks for $169. You have been so generous, filling the refugee warehouses with your gifts. But more people are arriving every day, the ones would have been banned from coming if the courts had not intervened.
Your donations have filled the USCRI warehouse more than once. Perhaps we can do it again.
The need is greater than ever. These people came legally, were investigated repeatedly, and have suffered terribly. They are coming into a cruel winter, the first in their lives. And they are coming under a fearful cloud they never expected.
If you can help them, please go here and choose your donation, there is no better way to start the day, I am grateful for the chance to give.
This gift page is a daily sacrament for me, it offers me the opportunity to be a true patriot, to vigorously support my country and the values on which I believe it was founded. Freedom, freedom, freedom. I feel good every time I sent something to these people, it is a way to vote for America every day.
Today, I vote for a pre-paid smart phone, nothing is more essential in America. It costs $39.95.
Yesterday was the first time it was clear to me that Maria was gone. The farm was unsettled. Fate kept looking for her – she follows everything – the donkeys were waiting for their daily carrot and communion. The pony was restless. It was a strange feeling, when Maria’s plane took off, I confess it felt as if my heart and soul had gone with here, it felt as if only a shell remained.
But I have learned from dogs to shake off pain and confusion, I shook it off, blogged, fed the animals, shoveled, called Maria’s mother to give her an update, then drove over to the Mansion to give the staff some cookies and flowers for Valentine’s Day. Thanks to the blog readers, the Mansion residents had plenty of letters, cards and goodies to eat. The Mansion Valentine’s Day party is today, and I plan to be there with Red.
Knowing Maria was en route felt good, I could start to get used to this two-week reality. Voluntary loneliness is different from the other kind, and in some ways, I was looking forward to the chance to focus on my writing. She would be back in a blink. And I had a lot of shoveling to do. I shoveled a path to her studio so I could visit her there.
The day went quickly, I read and wrote a bit, went out for firewood, got to bed early. Fate is sleeping in bed with me, Red right on the floor. One is never quite alone on Bedlam Farm.
This morning, I got up at 4 a.m., checked my messages, Maria had arrived in Dubai, she would spent 16 hours there before heading to Kolkata late tonight, the airline had booked her a hotel room since they had canceled her flight and disrupted her plans.
I messaged her back that I was awake, and the cell phone rang almost instantly. How sweet to be able to hear her voice, she was tired but happy, fascinated by Dubai, everyone there was helpful and friendly, she was glad to have a chance to rest before flying on. We both talked about how strange it was to not be able to talk to one another and share what was happening in our lives.
Maria managed to blog from the airplane. She loves writing so much, and I smile remembering how horrified she was once at the thought of even having a blog. She is a natural writer, another thing for us to share. She couldn’t sleep much on the long flight, she read and watched a movie. Perhaps this trip is too exciting to sleep much. I can’t sleep much. The snow shoveling helps, I am truly tired as well.
I hadn’t realized how much we both share our lives with one another, how much we do that.
She sounded weary but happy. Maria has a lot of reporter in her, she loves to observe new things, we are always observing things and comparing notes. Dubai is a very new thing for her. She was fascinated by all of it. I could tell she was sleepy, and urged her to take a nap. She told me not to tell her what to do, but then, she decided to take a nap.
I was anxious on Sunday as she dodged various blizzards all day in her little car, but I am not in any way anxious about her trip to India. I think it a miraculous affirmation for her, and in some ways, for us.
She was plotting out her day in Dubai. She might take a tour, get a message, read by the pool. She is conscious that women dress differently there, she wants to be thoughtful about that. Everyone is nice and helpful, she said.
I think it is good for Maria as well as me to have Cassandra come in the morning. She has no problem telling me what to do, get up and go to work, she says, and don’t go outside and shovel. Are you telling me what to do?, I asked. Yes, she said, and do what I am telling you to do. Okay, I see how it works.
Cassandra is a gift, she simply shows up and does her work and moves along. She is thorough and very competent, she has a wonderful smile. I shoveled for more hours yesterday, and then realized I should stop. I felt fine, but wanted to keep it that way.
The snow is relentless. I called Cassandra at work and told her about a ton of snow had just come off the roof and landed on the porch I had spent all afternoon shoveling. I said I just couldn’t shovel any more, and felt that I should stop.
She said she would be over early in the morning to take care of it, I should just get to work.
She is all business, no drama. People like that are precious to know up here, I expect they are precious to know anywhere.
This is a good plan for me. When I got off the phone with Maria, I got up – it was 4 a.m. I stoked the fires, put the barn cats in the basement and fed them, started a laundry, put the heat on, brewed some tea, had a banana and got to work. Started on the blog, and then realized I wanted to write about the call from Dubai. I was nice, I am so excited about her gettiing to Calcutta. So is she.
I am updating Maria’s mother on her travel. She is anxious about the trip.
Life is good, crisis mystery just around the corner. Valentine’s Day Party at the Mansion at 2:30. Maria will call again this afternoon. Somehow, we always find a way to communicate, I told her that we are never really apart, even when she is thousands of miles away. Go take a nap, I said, call me if you can, don’t worry if you can’t.
Tomorrow morning, she said, she will be in Kolkata. I will make it there, she said. I know, I said. Get some rest.
