We’ve lived on this Bedlam Farm for five years and it was a good and wise choice for us. One focal point of activity for us is the space between the farmhouse and the pasture. Sooner or later, almost every creature on the farm pops up there. Fate tries to lure me out to work with the sheep, the chickens march imperiously back and forth and Ed Gulley’s Tin Man watches over the enterprise.

I never set foot on a farm until I moved up here, and now I can hardly imagine life off of one. I can’t quite explain this, other than to say the farm has taught me so much about love and life. I am not a farmer but a writer with a farm, and there is an enormous difference.

But the farm is a great teacher and it has  transformed me into a learner. For me, Spring is the beginning of winter. I’m  waiting for 100 square bales of hay from the first cutting and we already have three cords of wood out of seven for next  winter.

The first lesson I ever learned on my first farm in Hebron was to start thinking about winter in May, or when it comes, you will not be ready but sorry. I learned to think again and plan.