It feels like a hangover. The port-a-potty’s are still here, Maria has spent two days trying to sort out the commissions and artist payments, the dogs and I are still exhausted, even Fate is napping half the day, more sleep than she has had in a month. I made it to the gym yesterday. Today is a bit laden for me emotionally, I guess, I am going to the first Bedlam Farm to say goodbye, we are closing on the sale of the house on Thursday, I am so grateful it is coming into the hands of people who really seem to love it and want to care for it.

I’m going to walk around, hike on the path, go say goodbye to Orson, who is buried there and Rose, whose ashes are scattered there. And a lot of memories, from movie-making to breakdowns to falling in love. Lots of things to feel, say goodbye, think about. I want to say goodbye to the big barn where we got married, and walk up the hill where I read “City On The Hill” to the dogs, sit in the Pole Barn where Rose held off some coyotes and we survived a bunch of nasty blizzards.

I don’t have the time or space to list all of the memories there, including seven books and my first photos. It’s in my blood, it is my blood, I want to say goodbye to it.