I am blessed to have love all around me.

It grounds me, sustains me, uplifts me, and calms me.  This afternoon I meditated to the wonderful singing of the Choir of King’s College, Cambridge,  on Primephonic, a classical music streaming site my new favorite app.

They sang Serenity by Gjello. It was some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard, and it took me to a special and serene space, far from the troubles of the world or the stabs and pangs of life and the disappointing traits of humans.

As I sat down in the chair, Maria came home, and we talked for a few minutes. Fate, her dog, came to welcome her and love her. This was meditation all of its own.

Then she went to work. I admit to loving it when she goes away for a while because I cherish the solitude, but more than that, I love it when she comes home. I am reminded of just how much I love her.

I earned my meditation hour this morning.

Maria was in Glens Falls for much of the day, visiting our friend Jackie, whose poetry was hanging on the walls of the Lower Adirondack Regional Arts Council (LARAC) and taking her out to lunch.

I spent most of the afternoon – all of it, in fact – shopping and driving around.

The pandemic has altered the way we eat. We always went out to eat several times a week, and the food I bought only had to last for a day, but we haven’t gone out to a restaurant in a year, and we won’t be eating out until we both have our vaccines completely.

Maria is too young to get her first vaccine; I am too old not to get mine. I got the vaccine number one last week.

Today was a hunter-gather day for me. I spent all morning writing and taking my photos and answering e-mail. Zinnia came with me in my rental car and stayed by my side all day.

I bought fresh fish, grapes, blackberries, blueberries, a pineapple, wet and dry cat food, laundry detergent,  pink lady apples, Cara oranges,  bottled water, goat cheese with cranberry,  90 percent lean beef, robios and camomille tea, haddock, and thinly sliced salmon, kale,  wheat crackers.

I plan meals for a few days now, not for just one.  Today’s shopping should last until the weekend when I need to get some fresh vegetables and fresh bread.

On the way, I called my sister, in a hospital in far western New York State, recovering from a broken hip. She’s coming home on Friday. As always, she has worked fast and furiously to get better. She has proven indestructible more than once.

I ordered from Ramunto’s wood-fired pizza in Bennington, our favorite pizza place; I ordered a Marguerite Pizza with vegetables and a few slices of pepperoni.

Their pizza is as good or better than any I remember. I was introduced to wood-fired pizza by Scott Carrino at the Round House Cafe, which I miss. It was a victim of the pandemic.

At Ramunto’s, they know me now and joke about my ordering the same thing all the time.

They were out of basil, so I asked for spinach instead.

That will be dinner tonight and perhaps lunch tomorrow. They apologized and gave me an extra-large pizza, which will take us into Friday if we want. Pizza slices can be a snack or a meal.

I called Tracy at Fuji Hibachi & Asian Bistro, Bennington, and ordered age tofu, shumai, veggie pad thai, and shrimp pad thai, tomorrow’s lunch or dinner.

And before leaving town, I bought two bottles of St. Francis wine at our local liquor store, Maria’s favorite. She won’t buy it for herself because it’s too expensive – $24 a bottle, but I buy it for her.

I like it. Also, it is especially smooth. The pandemic has inspired me to search for good food. At the very least, we are eating well—fresh salmon and haddock on Thursday.

I stopped at the post office to check on my p.o. box. There was a $60 contribution therefrom Barbara Roth of Pikesville, Md. for “support of the blog. ”

There was no message, but there was a Chesapeake Trust sticker on the envelope. I gave thanks for it and people like Barbara.

I am grateful for it. Sending a letter is the most complicated kind of messaging these days: you need an envelope, a stamp, a post office, a written check. It is personal.

Barbara could have easily skipped supporting my blog; I don’t know her and would never know.

It means a lot.

A wonderfully generous woman sent me $1,000 on Paypal for the Army Of Good work. I’m buying special size bras and Spring shoes and some specially catered meals—also some puzzles, and an Xbox for an aide’s teenage son. The family has had a very rough year, and it will, she said, be the surprise of his life.

I dropped off checks at the post office for my snow plow person, Vince Vechionne,  and my Toyota Rav 4, still in the auto body shop. I sent Vince a note asking him to drop some gravel on our driveway; water pools there after snow, it’s too low. When it’s cold, it turns into an ice lake.

I stopped at Jean’s Place for a BLT wrap for lunch and took it home to eat. I wolfed it down because it was time for the afternoon feeding, and Maria still wasn’t home. I ate it standing up in the kitchen with a side order of coleslaw. The donkeys saw me come home, and they were braying loudly for food.

It took me a while to unload all the groceries, wrap the fish for the freezer, put the fresh fruit in bowls. I put the pizza in the oven; I’ll warm it at dinner time.

I put the pad thai and Japanese food in the refrigerator. Maria will sort things out in the refrigerator when she has time. I’m not good at neatness.

I went out to the barn – I left Fate and Zinnia in the back yard, it is too muddy for them out in the pasture, and I didn’t have time to wipe them down. I cut the baling string on some new first cut hay and brought the hay out to the pasture.

I put a third flake of the bale in the donkey feeder and the rest in the two sheep feeders.

I always stop and close my eyes and listen to the wonderful sound of animals crunching their hay. Food calms them, warms them, settles them for the night. It helps me as well; it is an enchanting sound, life itself.

Because it is so cold, I brought out some second cut hay and sprinkled it over the feeders. The animals appreciate it, and it gives them energy. I love feeding the animals, as does Maria.

I have learned that I love feeding the people and animals I love; it is nourishing and healing for me. It is a gift to feed the things you love.

Before I went back into the farmhouse, I spent a half-hour using the ice chopper to chip away at the tough ice caused by the cold and high winds last night. The farmhouse windows were rattling all night.

I didn’t get too far; the ice was too thick and too hard.

I also went online looking for some of the items we need to transport injured animals to emergency centers – we are now transporters – I got special gloves and goggles. We need crates and about six other things for our work as Animal Rehabilitators. We’re serious about it and excited at the same time.

We need to find nets with extenders for eagles and hawks.

I was tired when I came in — it’s cold and windy out there. Dinner tonight will be pizza.

Maria will come into the farmhouse when it gets too dark and cold in her studio. We eat now sometime between 7 and 8.

I sat down for my meditation hour, my hour of peace and reflection and solitude, now essential for my life and peace of mind.

I have some of my new music in the background – Taverner: Mother of God (The Pembroke Chapel Choir) and Chopin Berceuse in D-Flat Major,  by the very brilliant pianist Bertrand Chamayou.

I am tired but am at peace. My aches and pains, my worries and obligations have all receded into the mist of good music.

Tonight I will re-enter the one percent world read a novel, and perhaps write. Right now, I’m in the 99 percent world, free of care and full of all the love around me.