When first moved to Bedlam Farm in 2003, I bought two antique signs, one said “Worms” and one said “Books.” I put the “Worms” sign out on the big front porch at the old farm, but I found that fishermen in the area kept pulling over and knocking on the door to ask me how much the worms cost.  None of them could imagine why anybody would hang an old sign that said “worms” if they weren’t selling any worms.

The banging on the door began interfering with  my writing, so I took the “worms” sign in and put up the “books” sign. No one ever came by or knocked on the door to ask me if I was selling any books. We brought both signs to the new Bedlam Farm but the “books” sign lay out on the front porch, we didn’t really have a good place to hang it.  I don’t even know where the “worms” sign is. Jay  Bridge moved it back when he began repairing the rotting porch. I was delighted to come across it again, it looks great on the back porch right above Flo’s chair, and it fits her regal bearing and contemplative ways.

It seems like a century ago that I bought those signs and lived in the other Bedlam Farm. Life is a wonder, really, it has a mind and a soul all of its own.  Nothing turned out the way I imagined it. In a sense, the “books” sign has more meaning now than ever, and this is the perfect home for it. I am not prone to nostalgia, but I so feel some sadness this morning for the old farm. I can’t say I miss it, my life has moved on, but I feel some sadness for all of the many things that happened there, the gamut from joy to fame to creativity and accomplishment, learning and growth, sadness and pain, loneliness and loss, and then love. Wow, that’s a lot of stuff for one place.

I’m happy to see the ‘books” sign hanging up again.