I won’t sugar coat it; Maria had a rough day, emotionally and physically. She feels more robust each day but is exhausted by the early afternoon. She got into the studio to do some work for a few hours and then just collapsed on the couch.

She just feels lost and worthless, and down.

This is normal, we gather, the doctors don’t worry about it, everybody has it. She tests negative for Covid, but it sure seems like Covid or a variant. As they told me when I got sick, the thing that matters the most is that you get a little better every day, which is very true of Maria.

When she is sick and can’t work, the old demons rise up, and she begins questioning her strength, work, and creativity. Maria is an energy source, and being still is a nightmare to her. She needs to rest, and I’m an excellent nag and enforcer.

Some Imperious potholders and a stunning quilt are calling out to her to get well.

We are used to lifting each other up; we’ve been doing it for years, ever since I danced my naked Guru-Show-Your-Art-Dance in Hebron and got her to show her first quilts and potholders.

She’s pushed me up countless times from some awfully dark places.

White Privilege is the newest way to both describe men’s lives and denigrate them simultaneously. In this marriage, there is no privilege by gender; we share the work, the grief, the fear, the hope, and the need to hold one another and support them.

I am no disconnected partner; we share everything but our work.

In the middle of the night, I was sure I heard her crying, and we just put our arms around one another (a triumph with my sleep apnea mask) and held each other for half of the night. Neither of us slept much, but it was a powerful, uplifting, and comforting experience.

Love really is the best medicine.

I cried a bit too and then snapped out of it. We can’t both be sad simultaneously; it’s a rule in our marriage. We each need to be cheerful to pull the other up.

In this world, things don’t always go our way, and the challenge is to handle the complicated stuff, not just the good stuff. She’ll be good by Monday.

As with all things, we share the work, comfort each other, and trade need, vulnerability, hope, and pride.

I had some awful days when I was sick, and she’s having a couple of them. She took terrific care of me, and I am working hard to return the favor. When she is sick, I am reminded of how much she does on the farm; my sore legs testify to this.

Today, I went to the chiropractor, and she straightened up my back. I can stand up straight now.

It is very hard to be up and hopeful when your body feels like worms are eating it. She is exhausted, and I am tired; the caretaker’s ghost hovers over the farmhouse. We both need to rest this weekend.

God bless the caretakers; they do God’s work every day. I’m working with the Mansion Staff on getting the Mansion residents to the County Fair, sorting out the transportation, lining up cars we can use, arranging for food and tickets, etc.

We might be able to get our hands on a couple of special vans, but I’m ready for all the possibilities.  I love our caravan idea; we have enough cars lined up if we need to go that route.

They will get there, and I will be there with them; and thanks so much for helping out.

Mansion outing donations can go to me via Paypal, jon@bedlamfarm, or via Venmo, Jon-Katz@Jon-Katz-13, or Mansion Fund, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. We’re going to be okay. The trip to the fair is on August 24th.