Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

19 May

The Zip Chronicles, Sunday: Into The Marsh. He Went After Something, Didn’t Quite Get It (I Think)

by Jon Katz

Zip’s hunting behavior is fascinating, and I never tire of it. When he spots a potential prey, he transforms into a statue, his movements slow and deliberate. On this particular occasion, he was perched on my lap, his attention drawn to a movement in the distant marsh.

He froze, crouched, and moved to the stone wall. He walked silently over it and onto some brush below. He was out of sight for a while, but I knew he was heading to the marsh, hunting paradise for a cat like him.

Zip has become a skillful and lethal hunger. He sees every movement on the farm and is patient, silent, and wicked smart.

 

Then I got up with my big lens and walked over to the stone wall. I assumed he was heading for the marsh, home to birds, snakes, moles, frogs, and mice. I waited and saw a black tail stick up.

 

Zip was close. He jumped several times in the wet and thick marsh, but I don’t think he caught anything. A few minutes later, he came back out of the marsh and jumped back into my lap to finish getting cratched and stroked.

19 May

Triumph: Some Bird Photos. Patience and Time. I Don’t Have A Lot Of Either

by Jon Katz

As you may know, I’ve been struggling with my giant bird and nature lens – a whopping 100-400  mm that weighs a ton. I’m no good with tripods, and I need to move the camera faster. I must hold it firmly and wait for something to fly into it.

So I have to take time and a lot of patience; I have little of either. I could fall over dragging that lens around, but I’m stubborn about my photography; perhaps I will become more patient.

I’m figuring it out because photography has taught me not to quit.

I sat for 45 minutes with Zip this afternoon, holding the lens until my arms ached. I didn’t realize I’d caught a shot (above) that I loved and another that I liked a lot. I could see them more clearly on the computer. This is encouraging; I won’t quit on it. The lens, for all of its weight, is a wonderful lens.

The second bird is below. The focus on these shots is a killer with such a big lens.

19 May

Images Of Peace And Calm: Bedlam Farm Journal, Sunday, May 19. Beauty Is A Stream. When Strong Emotions Rise

by Jon Katz

When my mind is carried away by pain and hurt – which it often is – I have learned that it helps me pause, think, breathe, and wait a bit.  If the painful emotion returns, I accept it rather than let it pull me away, hurt me again, or cause me to try to respond in anger.

I understand that I brim over with emotion, and I am learning to acknowledge and deal with it.

Time is a wonderful healer, so the phrase is a cliche; it walks me back to myself. I don’t like to feel angry or hurt or make anyone else feel angry or hurt.

Pain is a part of me, and so is hurt; I don’t want to fight with myself, either. It’s curious, but peaceful breathing makes the pain and hurt disappear. I can’t say why, but it helps me immensely and intensely.

Today, the beautiful photos came in a stream. They are all calming, soothing, and emotional in their way. I hope they break you peace and comfort. Here, beauty is a stream that never dries.

Back to the barn. We embrace rotational grazing here, two hours at a time, different pastures every other day. When Maria returns to the pole barn, the animals follow her.

 

Our friend Kathy Kelly sent us this tiny flower holder with a plastic tube. We both love it, and I put one of our wildflowers in it last night. It is a still life with emotion.

 

Zip checks out the world before setting out. Sometimes, he goes to the march, to the parch in front of the house, sometimes in the woods, sometimes in the Dahlia garden, sometimes out in the woods. He has fun; he loves to chase his tail. It seems he is out all night.

Wildflower, African Violet. I’m falling in love with wildflowers. They are not polished, produced, or bred; they just grow up and are themselves. Take it or leave it. They are humble and honest.

 

Grazing

 

A new plan in my garden bed, an Iris, one of the first planted for the season.

It’s time to get back to the Pole Barn. It’s time to go to the farmer’s market. Looking closely at the photo, you’ll notice a donkey is following Maria.

 

18 May

Flower Art, As Promised, Saturday, May 18, 2024. The Columbine Project, Day Two, Awash In Beauty

by Jon Katz

I had to take some more photos of the single tiny Columbine flower that Maria found in the woods yesterday. The flowers speak for themselves; I’ll let their beauty, grace, and emotion do the talking. I can’t get the Columbine out of my head.

I’m signing out tonight. In the morning, we’re heading to a Spring Festival in town, celebrating the return of the Farmer’s Market to its beautiful outdoor space and a multi-million dollar restoration project taking shape on our Main Street.

Things are changing here. If we don’t run out of time and have nice weather, I plan to plant some seeds and plants in the garden bed tomorrow. I hope you enjoy these wildflower photos; they are special to me.

The wildflowers have a remarkable impact on me; I will photograph them while they last. Thanks for coming along.

 

 

 

I fell in love with a buttercup sticking proudly out of the bouquet Maria made for me, fresh-picked from the woods.

 

The Columbine won’t last much longer, and I wanted to get my licks in before it died. Wildflowers generally live only a short time.

18 May

Photo Journal, Color And Black And White: Big Day At Bedlam Farm. Ian McRae Skips Chess And Shears Our Reluctant Sheep. He Did A Great Job.

by Jon Katz

Shearing day happens twice a year at Bedlam Farm, and both are big days here. Our friend Ian McRae has been shearing our sheep for years now, and he has grown with confidence, patience, and skill.

He’s learned how to confuse the sheep long enough to grab them and wrestle them to the ground while taking care not to harm them.

The more competent the shearer, the calmer the sheep. Our sheep were very quiet around Ian.

He’s also become a good friend. He’s coming on Tuesday for our weekly chess match.

Ian is also a poet, and our friendship has evolved steadily and warmly.

He is a lovely person with a big heart and solid and easy with sheep. Maria is his assistant here. She scoops up the wool and places it in marked bags. Both of them work hard and get tired.

(Above, Asher loves Maria and tries to hide behind her when Ian comes in. No luck.)

In a few weeks, we will take the wool to our new knitting mill, a few hours south of the farm. As always, Maria is selling it as yarn.

It took Ian about two-and-a-half hours to shear the sheep; some were cooperating and some wanted no part of it. He knows how to handle all of them. He came early this morning, and we are worn out, as he must be.

He said the biggest flock he had shorn so far was 48 sheep; it took him a full day. He likes to work alone and said he didn’t want to get paid for it here because we feed him so many dinners.

We paid no mind to that and paid him as he deserved. One has nothing to do with the other. If he feels bad about it, I suggest he bring the food on Tuesday.

I love Ian; he is a great friend and a worthy chess player (I will kick his butt on Tuesday, I told him, and he laughed.)  

We are pretty equal in chess skills; Ian is moving up fast; you know the story, the young overtaking the old.

I took the pictures in black and white and color; I think each presents a different feel for what shearing is like.

Maria has photos and videos she is putting up today on her blog, fullmoonfiberart.com.

Shearing the sheep reminds me of how special it is to live on a farm for ours.

It reminds us why we are here, and it is always enchanting to see the ancient art of sheep shearing practiced so well. The sheep must be shorn to be healthy and avoid disease and discomfort.

The animal rights movement whines about shearing; they think it is exploitive and cruel but then they whine all of the time about almost anything that brings animals and people together.

That’s one reason why working animals are vanishing from America and will only exist for future generations on YouTube.

I hope you enjoy the photos.

 

 

A lot of wool came off of Kim.

Shearers know how to hold a sheep, still using their hands and knees.

The sheep go limp and stay limp until the shearing is over. And no, it does not harm them. They shed a heavy coat and are lighter and more comfortable.

Unshorn sheep are brown to infection and disease.

 

 

Beautiful wool from Mericat.

When Ian arrived, her sheep rushed over to try and hide with her. It didn’t work. Soon, all of them were shorn and dancing happily in the heat without their heavy coats.

 

 

Maria is ready with her pre-marked bags to pick up the wool and stuff it into bags for the knitting mill. It takes six months for the word to be processed and ready to return to Maria.

The wool comes off in smooth rolls. The good shears like Ian know how to protect it, especially if it is going to be yarn.

 

 

After.

Cleaning up. Heading to the farmhouse to take a nap.

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