My friend Bob came by today to pick me up, drive me, and buy me lunch at Jean’s Place. He’s also had some wicked head injuries; we talked to each other about it but agreed not to get locked in our health issues—a curse of aging.

His offer meant a lot to me; I needed to get out, talk to someone my age, leave Maria to work in peace, and let someone else worry.

I showered this morning and had my regular shoes and brace on.

Zip came out to say hello To Rob this warm afternoon when he picked me up; he wasn’t the least shy,  but his new obsession is a cheeky chipmunk who built tunnels from the compost to

the Dahlia garden and then out to the apple tree. He rubbed against my friend and then removed his chipmunk-stalking ground beneath some flowers.

This chipmunk he’s pursuing is big and fat and has vast farm experience. He has confounded Bud for two years at least, but Zip has a lot more savvy than Bud. Bud does not know how to hunt quietly; he has the patience of a gnat and is as silent as a jet aircraft.

Zip seems new to hunting. He’s just getting the hang of it. He looks a natural.

I’d bet on Zip in the long run; he is brilliant, but I’m not confident about it. The older chipmunks on the farm know a lot of tricks, and this one is a tunnel builder, the most complex to catch.  

A pursuer would have almost to anticipate where he was going. The best and most experienced animal hunters could.

Most of their travels are underground, with many escape holes the human eye can barely see. Zip has found several of them, but he has to be in the right place at the right time with no time to spare.

Every day, Zip seems more and more at ease on the farm. Every day, we are more and more straightforward about having him. He fits right in and investigates more places. He’s still too afraid to go into the pasture; he keeps away from the donkeys. I imagine that will change.

As the photo below shows, Zip is a Barn Cat through and through. He has a dozen places to hide. We never see where he is, only where he is. He’s my new photo companion.

Robbie was true to his word. We went to Jean’s Place; I very rarely get to go to lunch with a man my age or with a man of any age. I don’t usually have much to talk with them,

It was great to get out. I  had some dizziness getting out of his car and back in, but if I just stood still for a while, it got stable. My friend – I don’t have a long history of friendships with men –  was sensitive.

And it was good to have a thoughtful conversation with an older man about aging. That is a rare happening in my life, and I greatly appreciate it. We both believe in acceptance and are allergic to whining and self-pity.

I’ve seen very few people these last few weeks; talking to Casey yesterday and going out to lunch was a joy. I even figured out how to spell Casey’s name right. My head is giving me trouble even more than usual, but my fingers fly.

The photos are saving the day.

Tonight is belly dancing night, a little over a week since Maria’s mother died. She’s working through it in her way. She is back to work on her art, blog, videos, potholders, quilts, hanging pieces, sketches, and photos.

She is excited to go to belly dancing class and always comes back lit up with excitement and her love of the dancing community.

She always returns with fresh bread baked by her friend Emily Gold, a gifted baker and artist. She makes all of the Gratitude letters I sent out to donors. Emily is a teacher in the belly dancing group.

P.S. If you missed last week’s donation post,  you can donate anytime and at any amount, including some donation options. You can check it all out here. Otherwise, you can donate via Paypal, [email protected], or at Venmo, [email protected] Or by check, Jon Katz, Blog Support, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. Check out blog support here. All major credit cards are accepted, and we’ve added several subscription recommendations for you to consider. We want all donations to be comfortable with the realities of life.

The blog is at the center of everything I do, from working on the blog daily, taking photos, and giving them away daily to the animals on the farm and Maria’s writing and studio. The blog launched all of it and still influences most of it. Donations keep going, so if you like what you see, help me get paid for all of this work. Put your earphones on and meditate on it. And thanks.