When we moved to our new home, the second Bedlam Farm, the only flowers growing were some beautiful Irises, the only flowers left in the garden of Florence Walrath, who was 104 when she died. We have tended these flowers lovingly and carefully in her memory and honor.

She was a proud, strong, independent person, sometimes feared, always admired and respect in our community. She suffered a lot and gave a lot. When I meet her, she was 102, I stopped to take a photograph of her collapsed barn and old pony, Rocky. She told me she was deaf and he was blind, “we are just riding it out together.”

Florence was a horsewoman, a lifelong rider and lovers of horses. But she was no softie. Rocky lived alone out in the pasture for 15 years with few fences, little or no fences and not too much attention. He fared very well. He was known for being difficult with everyone but Florence. He loved Maria, and she loved him back.

We talked sometimes, but not for long and not about too much.  She was struggling to stay in the house, made possible only by the dedication of her family.

When she died, she was 104 and Maria and I, who had been stopping by for months to help care for Rocky, looked through the windows and and fell in love with her sturdy, simple but highly efficient farmhouse.

The Irises are tough and tall and quite beautiful, just like she was. We are grateful to her, she led us to this house and we love being here. On the eve of our Open House, next Saturday and Sunday, we think of her and will keep the Irises  with love and care in her spirit.