Maria has a smile that would melt graphite and a pretty severe scowl when I tick her off.

Every time I look at her, I am astonished that she loves me, and by how much I love her. We have been through an awful lot together in our ten years together, and the odd thing for me is that I love her more than ever.

I can’t wait to spend the next four days alone with her, we have so much to talk about.

I talked with my therapist today, and she asked me why I had so little self-awareness that I was so surprised that someone like Maria could love me and want to be with me. I didn’t have an answer for that. I guess I don’t always see myself as someone who could be loved in this way.

The therapist said real love starts from the neck up and then works its way down. Something for me to think about.

My therapist speaks with me on and off, we have been talking together for nearly 15 years, and we are not done yet. We’re talking every two weeks now, and I always find something valuable. We talk on the phone. She always leaves me with something to think about.

No, I told her finally, I don’t think I’ve been very self-aware in most of my life.

(I love Lulu’s whisked and soft nose. She hustled another alfalfa treat out of me this afternoon.)

She saved my life, and I trust her and listen to her.

Maria and I are thinking of sneaking off Saturday night instead of Sunday morning for our four-day vacation right by the ocean, which we haven’t seen in a couple of years.

We miss the water. Vacations are about the only time the two of us can relax, away from work and blogs and cellphones and scammers and e-mail and texts. We have a great helper who stays on the farm and keeps an eye on things; the dogs love her.

When we put out of the driveway, we are gone. We will start packing tomorrow and find some new place to sleep Saturday night. Sunday, we’ll get an early start and have a full day by the ocean. Sunday night, we will be eating lobster and reading, and sleeping.

Saint something, watching over us)

We are both pretty tired; we work every day for most of the day. We love what we do, but I have the sense of being brain-worn down, which is a sign to get away and see some new things.

I’m bringing four or five books, a medicine bag, a sleep apnea mask, and a hiking stick.  Maybe I’ll get one of those testical tanning machines Tucker Carlson is so excited about. I can stand naked out on the sand at night and light up.

I hope to stay in bed late every morning. I intend to stay on my food plan. Lots of fish.

I’ll say one thing about cows. They know how to relax. They are an inspiration to me.)

I love this apple tree in the pasture, fending off a strong Easterly wind today.

I couldn’t see the sheep grazing in the back pasture, so I went out with Fate and Zinnia again to find them. They are down a slope munching on some spring leaves. We will open a pasture gate and let them graze when we leave.

It always lifts my heart to see Maria communing with the donkeys. These three talk to each other all the time; the sensitivity and affection of the donkeys was a surprise to me. I can hardly imagine life without them.

Curiously, we don’t miss the animals when we are gone. We need a vacation from them, and they need a break from us. We love them all the more when we get back.

The last goodbye to the Red Hen, who lived a wholly good life and left the world in peace, on a final note. We were nine years together.