I had to go to Saratoga this morning for more surgery on my left leg, I’m back in a special food boot that I have to wear for at least a week, and I’ve got to figure out showering without getting my left foot wet.

I did it last time; I can do it this time. I’ve got everything I need.

When I got home, I found Maria sitting in the backyard in near 100-degree heat. The two chicks were nibbling seeds off her leg, and the usually reclusive brown hen was joining it.

I sat down in the rocking chair to join her, and the chicks started hanging out beneath the chair; Maria scurried around to take a photograph.

In our farm, Maria is the center of love; most of it radiates from her. Another image of Bedlam Farm says much of what it is about, what I dreamed it might become.

I tried to start the process when I bought the farm in 2003, but then I went to pieces. Maria came into my life and not only embraced the idea but embodied and enriched it.

Life is full of crisis and mystery. How fortunate, I am so grateful.

Maria is an unusual mix – she is a brilliant artist, yet one of the purest nature and animal lovers I’ve ever known. I’m fortunate to be able to learn so much from her, even as I age.