16 February

Pastoral Stink: Hold Our Noses For A Big. Manure Mountain Is Too Hard To Move Yet. Zip Falls In Love With Mike

by Jon Katz

My usual evocative Pastoral photos were set aside due to the manure problem.

Mike Conklin and his co-worker Brady – two veteran fixers of things and outdoor emergency workers – came to respond to our SOS call about a melting Manure Pile, which is threatening to stink and mess a good chunk of ground near the barn. It also reeks.

Yesterday, in one of the first days of the week, the area around the mountain was turning into a manure pond.

We smell it in the house.

Mike came to check it out,t and he said it was much too hard for his tractor to budge today (another cold day). Tomorrow the temperature is supposed to rise to about 40 degrees, and he will come back to start knocking down with a trailer. It will take some more thawing days, he cautioned. It is quite a mess.

The surprise was Zip. Of course, he fell right in love with Mike, following him around, rolling against him, sticking his neck out to be scratched, following him every step of the way. Zip is usually quite cautious around strangers in big trucks. He also loves to be in the center of whatever is going on.

It didn’t hurt that I was carrying a camera; Zip gets that it’s important to me. Maria and I were both at amazed. Zip is the King of everything that happens here. He also loves to pose.

The Manure Crisis continues. Maybe I’ll dig out the masks we got for COVID-19.

 

 

Maria, Mike, Brady – I call them “The Real Men.” The male workers up here always prefer to talk to Maria rather than to me. I prefer it also.

Donkeys at the feeders. They love to hang out by the Manure Mountain.

12 June

Beautiful Afternoon, Scenes From The Farm: Wednesday, June 1, 2024. Images From Bedlam Farm

by Jon Katz

This is a new series of photography aimed at capturing the feeling and beauty of Bedlam Farm. Today, I went out with my Iphone to work on a piece on the myth of security. I was upset by a sad report about a family member; it was depressing.

We have a new ritual, Zip and I. He jumps into my lap. I hold and scratch him for 15-20 minutes, then I get to work, reading or writing for the blog. When I go to work, Zip gets it, hops off, and sleeps on the chair next to me, the one Maria often uses (she is belly dancing tonight.)

(In the above photo, the donkeys and sheep grazing just a few feet away from where I sit with Zip for a while every afternoon.)

I have to say that holding Zap and communicating with him makes me feel a lot better. He seems to have given up on the baby chipmunks for now; perhaps he gets them all at night when he is prowling around and hunting. I look forward to my afternoon session with Zip; he does, too. Perhaps sensing my sadness, which he does, he was soft, gentle, and affectionate.

I walk around the farm two or three times a day after going to the pharmacy, the food co-op,   Bernard Farm for fresh bread and vegetables, or the post office or bank. Tomorrow I go to Saratoga to see if my mouth is accepting the screw implanted for my implant crown. If so, I’ll get the crown in a week or so.

I realize I need to pay more attention to the beauty that brought and sustains us here. So, this is a way to focus on that more. No life is perfect or without suffering, but the beauty I see every morning sustains and comforts me.

It’s our 14th wedding anniversary, but it’s something to be grateful for, not necessarily something to celebrate by going out to dinner. We are going about our business as usual, but I never stop being thankful for Maria.

 

Zip is keeping me company while I work a foot away.

They were grazing in the afternoon. Always beautiful to me.

The garden bed is coming to life.

 

23 February

Scene From The Farm: Notes On The Blog

by Jon Katz

Kaaren: “When I first opened your blog, I first saw the thrilling line formation of geese moving across the sky. Then I saw the succeeding photos and thought how wonderful it is that you’re bringing these wonders of nature to your readers. Thank you so much.”

Messages like this are lovely to read; they make me feel all the hard work on the blog is worth it. I forget that sometimes most of my readers do not live in the country, are not close to nature, do not live with animals, or live on farms. It was a joy to take those geese’ photos and gratifying to know they were appreciated. I hear you. Thanks, Kaaren.

I so have farmer readers from all over the country and urbanites from all over the country. It’s a nice mix, and I’m proud of it. Kaaren reminds me why I love doing this. It never occurred to me that I took the goose photos yesterday that so many people do not have a chance to see this.

The farmer blog reader has also become valuable to me, as we understand many of the same things (like the grace and beauty and tradition of giving an apple to a neighbor’s horse) without being told. I don’t need to explain it.

We just missed the big storm hitting the Northern parts of the country, and just by a hair. We have two or three inches of snow on the ground, not enough to keep me from my dental appointment this afternoon to have a tooth pulled. I saw the hens were out taking their last work before the storm.

I wanted to let people who subscribe to the blog and are not getting their daily e-mail to know there are technical problems with the company that manages the mailings. Many people don’t realize they can access the blog anytime, 24/7, by going to www.bedlamfarm.com. I’m getting many messages from people who think I am dead or dying.  If I die, you’ll hear about it.

The subscription service costs a lot of money each month, and its reliability is disappointing and sometimes inconsistent. Every time we reinstate somebody’s e-mail list from the blog, it costs $15 to get it going again, along with the monthly charges. I want to keep this service going, but I’ll have to reconsider if the system doesn’t settle down. Most blog readers get it the traditional way – they bookmark it or go to www.bedlamfarm.com manually each morning or whenever they have to read it.

I wanted you all to know we are working on this issue; resolving it may take a day or two. I thank you for caring, but I must find a better solution.

I’m also constantly rethinking the blog posting system. Until five or six years ago, I never posted comments on the blog. I was free to innovate and experiment with my ideas for a blog, and I didn’t need to spend so many hours defending myself and explaining myself.

A new reader wrote me yesterday to say she didn’t understand why I would write about Liam if I didn’t want to hear how people felt about it. That was frustrating. I’ve explained my feeling about unwanted and often bullying messages of advice, and I can’t bear even to do it any longer. There are so many more of them than me.

I told her I share my life; I dont give it away or surrender it to other people, almost none of whom I know. The number of angry posts, posts from people wanting to argue with me, posts from people wanting to tell me what to do, posts from people who think that because I am open about my life, I am asking the wider world to tell me how to run it are all on the rise, thanks to the growth of social media platforms.

Too many bring rudeness, intrusion and bad manners.

And then there are lovely posts from people like Kaaren. I would miss them. They mean a lot to me.

Most people are good and want to do good.

I’m evolving on this. I’m getting stronger and wiser.

Now, 99 percent of the time, I delete negative messages, but I never finish them. I respond to very few unless I’m in a belligerent mood and blow off the tension by going after that. That can feel surprisingly good.

Many people aren’t mean but love to argue and are drunk on the easy way to do it on social media. They have to go also. They are getting deleted.

I do not argue my positions and beliefs with strangers on Facebook or other social media. The comments I post are either thoughtful or engaging or appreciative of the farm and the life we have built here.

I do accept disagreements – almost every day – as long as they are civil and thoughtful. I don’t fight with people online unless I think the argument might have meaning for others.

I’m getting more comfortable with the wanton intrusions of people I don’t know. I ignore it or delete it. I want to spend my energy taking photos, thinking, growing flowers creating my own songs.

That’s how I ought to be spending my time. That’s how I will be spending my time.

Life is way too short to argue with strangers I’ll never know or even people I do know. My advice to me: Don’t Get Mad. Get Busy Doing Good.

Thanks for your interest; I’ll keep you posted on any changes I might make.

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