This week was an important week. I finally finished writing about my panic attacks; I launched the Dog Support program and feel very good about it. And this afternoon, I took a beautiful walk-a-round the farm with my Leica 2 and sweet dog Zinnia. Come and see what we saw.

(Above, Zinnia is saying good morning to our garden Head. Zinnia loves all of the things that exist on the farm and is sure to greet each and every one when she sees them.)

Tonight, Maria and I are going to the city of Glens Falls to take a friend to dinner on her birthday. Her favorite restaurant is Red Lobster, where Maria and I have never been. I’m a lobster snob, and I prefer to eat my lobsters in Maine or Cape Cod, but I’m willing to give Red Lobster a try; it’s where our friend wants to go.

(Dusk, right across the road from the farmhouse)

Perhaps I’ll be pleasantly surprised.

We are getting excited about the upcoming holiday week. We have no families to worry about offending by staying home, and no families to fight with or appease. Many families get along lovingly and with ease, but that’s not been our experience in our own lives.

My idea is to take two or three days off from blog writing, something I’ve never done while we are home. I’m thinking of posting one or two photos daily from Thursday to Saturday with no text. I want to do lots of meditation, talking with Maria, walking, reading, resting, and resting.

We are both very much looking forward to quieting down next week and appreciating what we have. We are our own family, us and the animals and friends we have.

I’ve been working hard every day for months, and I believe I need to settle and absorb life and continue with my spiritual work of reading, meditation, and contemplation. I am thinking of solitude.

Good things come of that. But I want to take some photos every day, but that does not work for me.

Lulu knows how to get me to give her an alfalfa block; it never fails, and I no longer pretend to resist it. She has my number and has had it for years. She had my number from the first day.

The animals on the farm know when it’s time to eat; they all gather by the fence and make some noise, which can be quite a chorus. They are sure to let us know when we need to feed them. And they won’t wait quietly for long.

The Tin Man is an important symbol on Bedlam Farm. Made by our late and very good friend Ed Gulley, we had to remove the Tin Man from his body this Spring, but we kept the head. In the summer, he lives on the porch. In the winter, he keeps watching over our vegetable garden. It’s a good spot for him; Ed would approve.

Zinnia is a big stocky dog, but she can be quite graceful and fast when chasing after a ball in the pasture or running through the woods.

This is one of her favorite things, apart from going to Bishop Gibbons and/or napping with her head on my shoe, which is what she is doing right now.

I’ve always said we get the dogs we need, and Zinnia is the dog I need right now.