Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

16 December

Beautiful Morning: More Snow: Animals Can Be Wonderful And Strange At The Same Time

by Jon Katz

Zip waits for me every morning, rain, shine, or snow. He always gets a belly scratch, but it’s not a very long scratch when I’m out in the cold in my bathrobe taking early morning photos.

 

 


 

 

Asher doesn’t use napkins.

Let’s be honest: Labs make the most wonderful pets in the world but can also be the most disgusting. Zinnia loves to snack on the manure pellets the sheep leave behind in the barn. I worn her regularly to ensure it doesn’t harm her, and I finally am coming to accept it (most of the time). Let dogs be dogs when possible (cats too.)

St Joseph and the morning weather report. A bit warmer, eh Beth?

Ready to go.

 

Every morning, Zip sticks his head in the chicken roost to see if he can steal some of their food. The chickens get a bit hysterical, but then he hops off and leaves them alone. He’s just covering his kingdom to show who’s boss.

 

 

Getting ready for the Solstice Bon Fire, coming soon.

15 December

Flower Art, Sunday December 16, Every Flower Has Something To Say To Me. Every Life Is A Series Of Lives

by Jon Katz

The real truth, I have come to think, is that there is no such thing as only having one life to live. The fact is that every life is simply a series of lives, each one of them with its task, its flavor, its brand of errors, its type of sins, its glories, its kind of deep, dank despair, its plethora of possibilities, all designed to lead us to the same end – happiness and a sense of fulfillment.” – Joan Chittister, The Gift Of Years.

Flower photography brought me happiness and fulfillment. It feels like another life. Good evening. I hope to see you in the morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

15 December

Announcement: Where I’ve Been Isn’t Where I’m Going. I’m Just Getting Started

by Jon Katz

Life is not one life; I am learning, but many lives. I’m about to set out on another one.

A couple of weeks ago, I heard a singer, songwriter, rapper, and producer named Shaboozey, and I got hooked. (He was on SNL a week ago. Beyonce sang on his new album.) I’ve listened to him at least once or twice a day before I sleep and sometimes before I meditate.

I was especially drawn to an album Shaboozey sings called “Where I’ve Been Isn’t Where I’m Going,” I thought how true that is of me.

After the election, I was shocked. The people spoke loudly and clearly. I wanted to understand what had happened, but that would take a while. I’m still not there. The establishment’s corporate and political opposition is collapsing.

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing and don’t intend to say more.

I just decided to keep the blog the safe place it has become. My writing and photos are doing people a lot of good—traffic has shot up, and so have thoughtful comments. The trolls have melted away.

I found a new role for my work, and it is the right one.

I feel good about it—at age 77, I will focus my energy and work on making the blog a safe and hopefully beautiful place. I have also found the joy and meaning of working with the Cambridge Food Pantry, another way to keep meaning and goodness in my life, not argument and fear.

I will work to continue supplying the pantry with the food it needs to feed people who need it. I’m good at this.

I do not hide behind my age as a reason for being idle and irrelevant. I am as old as I see myself and wish to be. For me, getting older is a beginning, not an end. I am just getting started in the next chapter of my life.

I love my farm, my life, my wife, my cat, my dogs and donkeys, my pictures, and my thoughts.  I’ll leave the pundits to slug it out; I’ll do my work and good deeds. I am a member of no party, a slave to no dogma or labels.

The next President has some ideas I like more than I expected and many that I hate; most of all, he and his well-funded movement plan to punish political opponents and journalists who criticize them.

As the child of refugees who fled Russia and Germany, that was and is frightening to me. It breaks my heart.

But I needed to find a good place to be amid all this change, uncertainty, and fear. The next President and I are about the same age—he’s a little older—and we are both likely to depart the world around the same time; I will not be at the center of any significant political struggle.

The people will get what they want; it’s rightfully not mine to judge. To be valid, I need to change, and I am changing.

I doubt I will be around when everything is sorted out, but I can do much good in the meantime and will focus on that.

An odd thing has happened, as unexpected as the election itself – I find that one of the things I am good at, one of the things I contribute is the unexpected ability to offer calm and peace to people through my writings, photographs, focus on being a safe place, and most surprising of all, my flower photographs which make other people, as well as me, feel lots of emotions, most good.

The real truth, I have come to think, is that there is no such thing as only having one life to live,” writes theologian Joan Chittister. The fact is that every life is simply a series of lives, each one of them with its task, its flavor, its brand of errors, its type of sins, its glories, its kind of deep, dank despair, its plethora of possibilities, all designed to lead us to the same end – happiness and a sense of fulfillment.”

I am shaping the last chapters of my life and found my place. I am deeply in and want nothing that I don’t have.  I have finally discovered the power of meaning and compassion. My vision is for a safe place for people to visit, with no anger, cruelty, hostility,  or judgment.

I accept my place in this universe with joy and eagerness. Like Shaboozey, I accept that where I’ve been isn’t where I’m going. And where I am going is a good place, the place I want to be. I hope to be helpful where I am, not where I was.

This morning, I got up, followed the sun with my camera, sat with the animals, took some pictures, and went to the Farmer’s Market with my wife.

We are so good together that it sometimes hurts.

I appreciate my loyal readers, who are so supportive. You are welcome here to see the place where I’m going—it’s right here. The photos, words, and flowers will keep coming as long as you want to see them.

15 December

Beautiful Morning, Again – The Cold Has Its Own Rewards. I Miss It When It’s Gone.

by Jon Katz

Above, a photo of Zip. I no longer remember going outside with an impatient, domineering, but very loyal cat waiting for me to either feed him, scratch him or sit with me when taking photos. It was too cold to sit outside taking pictures with Zip this morning. Maybe later, Prince.

 

 

Manure, first thing every morning.

Fate is always working, even when there is no work to do.

At the feeder, animals eat first.

St Joseph doesn’t mind the cold.

 

My favorite chair is awaiting repair in the barn.

 

Working dog.

Email SignupFree Email Signup