19 January

Anatomy In Pictures Of A Sweet, Sweet Night In A Nasty Ice and Rain Storm. Come Along

by Jon Katz

It’s cold, and an ice storm has covered the roads with ice. There is hard rain, with snow coming and more ice and rain through much of tomorrow. We love nights like this when the dogs and animals are safe and dry, and we are in our cozy old farmhouse with burning wood stove fires, books, food,  British mysteries, and music.

On the way, we stopped at the local grocery store for some vegetables. I love taking these night photos when there are lights. They are truly iconic.

Maria and I have come to love storm nights. I get nervous sometimes, but she never does. But nights like these are exceptional.

We stopped to get some wine on the way.

We decided to rush out to the Shift Wagon for our salad bowls – I got the Mexican Bowl with rice, black beans, Mexican Street Corn, fresh jalapeno, tomato, and avocado, and Maria got the Falafel bowl with hummus, romaine, tomatoes, cucumber, cabbage, pickles w/Lemon.

At the last minute, I ordered a pizza for tomorrow in case we’re snowed in for much of the day. I ordered the Dawson’s Creek with pesto, spinach, artichoke hearts, tomato, kalamata olives, and ricotta cheese. This will get us happily through a storm.

Sarah knows our car by now and has the food ready in cartons, bags, and boxes. Corey is always serious, working in the back near the stove.

We said hello, picked up the food, and headed home as the salt plows began growling up the road, yellow lights flashing. I love taking the Monochrome out on nights like this; the light and shadows are eerie and exotic.

 

Sarah and Corey are quiet and busy, as always.

We talked a bit about the weather and got out of the cold and rain.

When we got home, we ate the salad bowls. They were delicious (The Shift wagon is a godsend for us). We talked for a bit and had a glass of wine.

I did the dishes.

We’ll watch the Caffe Lina TV stream for a bit; there is a much-loved bluegrass band on their streaming channel. Then we’ll read. Last night, when Maria went to sleep, I snuck outside with the wood card and filled it up for today and tomorrow so Maria wouldn’t have to go out.

After the music, we’ll read for a bit; we love the books we read. Then we will seek out one of our favorite British mysteries – we are both addicts – and watch on my Iphone 13. We still have no phone. It is so lovely to be inside for the night. I can’t help but think of the people in California and other parts of the country fighting off mudslides, blizzards, and tornadoes.

We feel lucky.

The storm was blowing cold, wet, and nasty when we pulled into the driveway. I had to be super careful walking on the ice. Still, the storm managed to be beautiful with the help of our fallen white birch limb, which my cameras love.

I feel so lucky tonight. I have riches beyond my wildest dreams. Today, I did some good and got 400 dollars worth of new, blue oval tablecloths for the Mansion and Memory Care. I asked for help from the Army Of Good to get them all, and I am getting some (you can donate via Paypal, [email protected] or Venmo, Jon-Katz@Jon-Katz-13 or by check, Jon Katz, Mansion Fund, P.O. Box 205 State Route 22, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. I’m almost there, and thanks. Small donations are just as welcome as big ones; they add up)

19 January

Photo Journal: Monochrome Thursday. Fate Hurts A Foot, Dogs At Rest, Our Statue Gets A Name

by Jon Katz

Today is a gloomy, cloudy day, and I decided to honor my Leica Monochrome (my first Leica) by using it all day to take my photographs. Fate is always a good place to start; she is the most photogenic of our dogs.

She hurt her foot today, pretending she was herding sheep, and I was drawn to this image of Maria comforting her.

Maria is a love machine around here, but she never gets sappy. Mess with her work schedule, and you’ll see the dark side of her. There’s a werewolf in there.

Bishop Gibbons was excellent yesterday, and I’ve been invited to meet with the new International School for new refugees opened in Albany last year.

These refugee students have just arrived; it’s right up my alley and the Army Of Good. It won’t affect my connection with Sue Silverstein or Bishop Gibbons, but I think some fascinating and needy new arrivals could use a hand. I know some of the teachers there; this is a great place.

Despite the many efforts to choke off or eliminate support and deny them entry, the refugees are here, and I am called to help them as well as I can. I see that the white male culture is fighting to the death for dominance and survival. I am coming to see that almost all of the conflict and division in our country begins with race when you think about it. The haters won’t prevail.

As for me, I’m going to do good every day until I keel over. That’s my purpose.

More later.

 

We’re expecting a good-sized snowstorm tonight and all through Friday. We’re ready. Fate is resting, which doesn’t come easy for her. Our generator is in the barn with lots of gasoline.

 

 

We’ve never been able to pin down the identity of our saintly statue, so I’ve decided to call her Mother Therese since she was the inspiration for our small acts of great kindness. I’m enjoying the fallen limbs of the white birch. So is my camera.

 

The Bedlam Farm Treat Committee, President Bud, was waiting for me this morning when I came out of the shower. He’s the boss. I call him “My Little Man.”

 

 

The Imperious Hens were doing their business as usual, butts up, the hunt for bugs and seeds was still on.

 

I am taking daily photos of our landscape around the farmhouse; I like it; This photo reflects the gray day.

17 December

Photo Journal, December 17, 2022: In Pictures, The Shy Storm That Finally Came

by Jon Katz

This was the storm that almost never came. We heard about it all week and were told it would strike from Thursday night until Saturday. We gave up on it Friday and woke up to it this morning.

This storm – I think the corporate weather ghouls named it Diaz – was not impressive when it came to the stunning blizzards of upstate New York winters.

When I moved to my first farm in 2003, it was not uncommon to have spurts of – 30-degree weather and Canada howlers that ended up being as tall as I am.

This was a mess in its own right – about five or six inches of snow plus rain and ice.

These are the storms I  fear. This shy storm has come and gone.  It was nasty for a while, lots of limbs down and ice. It was also beautiful.

We shoved and cleaned off the cars, and the very excellent Mike Coughlin came clear off the driveway and dug out the cars.

I didn’t fall, cleaned off the cards, tested our new Snow Blower (mixed results), and took a nap.

My daughter sent me an excellent new book about famed street photographer Joe McNally (The Real Deal: Field Notes From The Life Of A Working Photographer), and I’m hooked. And inspired. We give Christmas presents early and open them right away.

I gave her two 1,000-piece crossword puzzles to play with her and Robin, and I gave Robin a Karioake microphone so she could sing out loud. Emma will probably hate me for that.

I’ve decided to make the storm my photo project of the day; I’ve documented its arrival and departure, me and my Leica 2, which I love like a brother (or sister.) I liked doing it, and I hope you enjoy it.

I’m determined to capture the experience of winter positively and beautifully if I can.

Maria is an upbeat and hard-working partner during a storm. She loves being outside, cleaning up, and observing the birds, donkeys, and sheep. Batteries are the most beautiful at the beginning and the end. They are never dull or ugly.

I got worn out from all the shoveling, even though I did the least of it. Maria went for a long walk in the woods with the dogs.

Come and see:

We lost a major branch on our White Birch tree, one of the oldest trees on the farm.

The donkeys are not impressed by storms. They stay in the Pole Barn but are happy to come out and have hay and grain. Their silhouettes are always beautiful and iconic.

Maria was surprised and delighted to find an egg in the roost; it was delicious at breakfast. She thinks the hens have stopped molting and are laying again.

We will put a bulb in the roost to trick them into thinking the days are longer. These fresh eggs are so much more delicious than the ones sold in stores.

Late morning, a fine mist settled over our little valley. The Leica loves different shades of color and captures them well. All of these photos were taken in color.

Less is more; I’m learning photography and life.

I went across the road to capture Bedlam Farm at the height of the storm. Our Little Free Library is brave and hardy.

We threw some hay we collected from the barn floor over the fence to keep the donkeys happy.

We’ve been lucky this year. Several huge limbs have fallen off our oldest trees; they all fell in the right places. This one will be on the ground until April.

The apple tree and the pasture caught the feeling of ice storm and snow; it was soft and lovely. I’m learning to capture the softness and shades in my landscape pictures. Digital cameras have trouble with softness and shade.

I tried the new Snow Blower we got last year, but the snow was heavy and very wet. Better luck next time. (This was a digital photo, not soft.)

The sky after a storm is always gorgeous. The sun came out in mid-afternoon. The storm was over.

As always, Fate gets the last word.

Bedlam Farm