A friend of ours came over for lunch today. He is a good friend, and I have come to love and appreciate him. He’s due for a portrait. While we were eating some quiche, he said he saw photos of Maria on the blog stacking firewood all summer and felt awful because he wanted to come over and help her but never made the trip.

He’s on my portrait list of people I love and admire.

Later, as he was leaving, I walked him to his car. Listen, John, I said, I know this is hard for men to believe, but Maria would have been both upset and angry if you came over, presuming she needed the help of a man to get the firewood stacked.

I made that mistake and urged her to let me hire somebody to help. It finally got through to me that she loves stacking firewood. It is her way of relaxing, a combination of medication and excellent exercise. She would be angry if you came over to help her. I tried for years and then gave up. She does not need me to make those decisions.

I said she is a Willa Cather farm girl as well as a talented artist. This afternoon, she’s spreading our huge annual manure pile all over the pasture. She does two wheelbarrows daily until the pile has enough manure for our gardens. Today, she’s hauling the manure to the back pasture.

She only takes shortcuts or skips a day once the pile is almost gone—and it’s a huge pile. I’ve never met anyone like Maria, and I am grateful for her every day. In some ways, my life began when Emma was born and then Maria.