For many people, Sandy was a terrifying intrusion, a disruption, a moving mass of destruction even tragedy. For us, here in our new home, it was strangely beautiful, an affirmation, a homecoming. There was a lot of rain and howling wind, but no damage. In a curious way, the house became ours. We live in it now. The great work Ben has done for us was affirmed in many ways – the new slate roof did not leak, the Pole Barn was dry and secure, the chickens snug in their coop, Minnie in the barn.

We know these animals well and we know this place. Rocky was in his stall, the donkeys locked in the pole barn with the sheep (thanks to Todd Mason’s smart and useful pallets.).  Some branches blew onto Maria’s studio, but there was no damage, and her studio held up well also. After days of warnings and alarms – life and death is a profit center now as well as politics –  it seemed we were waking up a  new day, and we were.

Maria and I had a beautiful evening. We lit a fire in our fireplace, talked, read. I filled tubs and bathtubs with water, then cooked a dinner for us – apple chicken sausage, small blue potatoes, brussell sprouts. We have not had a TV for nearly a year, and we keep meaning to get one but this weekend convinced me not to get one and Maria agrees. I used the Ipad and cell to check in on the insanely-hysterical weather reports and that was more than enough. I was so grateful not to have a TV on in the background warning me all day that I might not make it through the week. I meditated instead, read a good mystery.

I am mindful that the day was not nearly so pleasant for so many people, and it hurts to think of all the suffering and disruption.

But I also have to be honest. Sandy was a gift to us. It was a homecoming, an affirmation of life in our new home, which is solid as a rock, dry and steadfast. I did want to do something creative yesterday so I made a movie which I will put up shortly: Sandy in Bedlam. Hope you are all well.