Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

23 March

Farm Journal, Saturday, March 23, 2024 Winter Pasture, 24 Hours Of Snow, More To Come, Ravenous Birds, Tired People

by Jon Katz

It’s fitting that the worst storm of the season comes in mid-March. We are so buried that we could never get the generator out of the barn now. If the power goes out, which is likely, we’ll go dark and silent, which is always a kind of spiritual experience. It’s rare to have peace like that in our time.

Maria and I went out and shoved a half dozen times and gave you. There is too much heavy, wet snow. We spent a wonderful hour in the living room watching the hungry birds swarm the feeder outside the window. I am eager to read tonight if the power stays or play chess by candlelight.

I am making progress with my bird photography, and I love taking black-and-white photos in the winter pasture. I’d never see this in a place like Florida, and I would miss it. I’m too old to do much shoveling of wet snow, I stopped soon. But the photo-taking was great fun. I won’t have snow to kick around soon for many months. For that matter, the birds will only be at their feeders for a short time.

It was a beautiful day in so many ways. I overdid the shoveling and the car scraping and began to dehydrate. I sat by the fire and read a bit, then fell asleep. When I woke up, we pulled chairs out. It’s one of the last gasps of winter; it is going out with a big bang.

My Leica class last Sunday was a great success; I’m finally figuring out how to make this complex and excellent camera work. I’m skipping the food pantry food of the day today; I’ll get to it tomorrow.

This storm was serious, but that is also why we are here. There is a lot of life happening on a farm in upstate New York or anywhere else. Somehow, this makes us happy and gives meaning to our lives. What we do matters.

If the power holds up, I’ll upload more of these photos in a few minutes and also tomorrow. But don’t be surprised if the blog is dark tomorrow.

Lulu is in the barn licking the salt block. The donkeys eat hay in the pole barn; the sheep go outside.

 

Snowdog and Maria

The hills across the road. I can’t remember any snowstorm lasting this long in my time here.

We had a beautiful time sitting in that corner, watching the birds.

Maria is in the barn, getting some hay.

 

The apple tree in the pasture

The snowcat was on and off his throne all afternoon. She had a lot of fun.

Fate and I got warm together; we came in to dry out.

The winter pasture was made for landscape, and so was my monochrome camera.

23 March

Bird Watch In A Storm. I’m Figuring Out The Birds

by Jon Katz

We aren’t going anywhere today. The snow is up to the door handles on the car, and it’s getting ice and colder. It’s supposed to rain and snow almost to midnight. The generator is ready if we need it.

I’ve been working hard to figure out the camera settings and profiles, and my Leica class is paying off. I spent an hour with Maria this morning, sitting with some tea and watching the feeder she put outside the living room window. In snow like this, the birds get hungry, and I figured I might finally get the kinds of bird photos I wanted—close but not too close, colorful but not too literal.

I’m getting there. I finally took some bird photos I like. Come and see.

 

I love the birds silhouetted; they seem to be getting used to me.

I’ve figured out the focus (it’s tricky through glass) and the color, which is also sometimes lost through glass.

 

After shoveling outside, we sat in the living room, each with a cup of hot tea, and watched the birds. My life is changing. I never paid much attention to flowers, birds, or cats before; now, I can’t stand far away from them. I could watch birds for hours (and I do), fascinated by how they eat, react to each other, and move.

I’ve taken enough bird photos today. (probably not.)

 

I missed out on so many things when I was buried dead and living in trauma. It’s good to be alive. We had the sweetest time watching the birds. Soon, I’m going to wipe off those droppings on the window.

 

Bud has no desire to go outside, like Zip, when it’s cold and snowing. He loves to doze by the wood stove.

 

For the first time, the birds stared at me and the camera lens, they didn’t rush off.

23 March

Zip In A Big Storm, He Hasn’t Seemed To Notice The Seven Feet Of Snow

by Jon Katz

I can understand why many people prefer their cats to be inside.

If Zip was not a barn cat, I doubt I would not have gotten him (we have three dogs in the house), but there are many good reasons to keep a cat in the house at night. It’s also one of my businesses and how most people care for their cats.

There are very few reasons, if any, to keep a barn cat in the house.

But I do not understand how anyone who knows anything about cats or other animals would believe that a barn cat yearns to get inside the house at night and hates being out in the snow and the cold. I understand that city people no longer have much contact with animals. Indeed, not barn cats; many seem to have no idea what they are like. I get the most ridiculous e-mails about it.  No farmer has ever questioned Zip’s treatment, and they know animals a lot better than most animal rights police.

Farmers and people like me living on farms understand. They also are okay with other people’s business.

It’s just that simple.

I know by now that many people who call themselves animal rights advocates know little or nothing about domesticated animals and how important work is to them and their survival. And how would they? Domesticated animals, from ponies to carriage horses to elephants, have mainly driven out of sight in cities and perished. That would be a tragedy if that happened to barn cats, among the most remarkable animals I’ve ever seen.

I can’t control what other people do, only what I think is right. I don’t tell other people what to do (which makes me lonely sometimes, especially on social media), but we sure made the right decision about Zip. He has never slept in his heated house for a minute, which he seems to be using as a dead rodent storage site (we’ll clean that out).

It lifts my heart to see him and Zinnia tearing through the snow together. Barn cats are mystical creatures, and they love to dance at night. They seem to care nothing about the weather.

Zip stops every few minutes to give Zinnia a swat or two to keep her in line. Zip is often sticking his head down deep in the snow. Zinnia dives into the snow around him and barks with pleasure. Zip needs to be more impressed. The only thing I know of that he fears is a big truck in the road.

There isn’t a grain of truth in the idea that this is not the life he wants; the idea he is somehow being mistreated is a manufactured anxiety and false accusation with no basis in reality in his case, as Zip demonstrates every day.  He loves being outside in the cold and snow; he does some of his best hunting when snow is on the ground.

We got Zip a heated cat house to make sure he was okay, and he startled us by going inside this morning after a raging storm.  We’ve never seen him going anywhere near the heated cat house at night or any other time, even during the coldest days. I figured it out. He caught something outside and was stashing it in the cat house.  Whatever it was, I don’t think it cared if it was warm; it probably doesn’t care about anything now.

We’ve had 6 to 8 inches of snow overnight, mixed with ice and rain. It’s a cold and dank mess, heavy snow mixed with ice. Zip was romping through the snow when I came out this morning, diving in here and there when he thought a mouse or chipmunk was moving under the snow, looking for food.

I saw that he snatched something and took it into the barn.

He danced, flirted, played chase in the snow some more with Zinnia, followed me as I cleaned off the cars, and did his Zip dance in the snow.

 

 

I got another shot at the Winter landscape. Zip came along. He studied and navigated every square inch of the farm. Last night, at 3 a.m., I saw the lights in the front of the barn pop on and off, and I looked in the window. Zip was rolling in the snow and dive-bombing into the tall mounds of snow. He was having a blast. I went back to sleep.

 

After hunting, exploring, and playing with Zinnia, he took up his new favorite position on a special towel on the porch. Maria brought him a chunk of leftover salmon—her dogs and donkeys are all familiar with the very best in food. When Zip saw me cleaning the car, Maria said he had taken off like a rocket and popped up underneath the vehicle, which I had been shoveling out of the ton of snow on the top.

He managed to rub  himself against my legs, something that surprised me and sent me toppling into the snow.

Big storms make me nervous, but they make Zip happy. It is a great pleasure for me to see any of my animals as contented as Zip is. Most of them are. We have no substitute children or furbabies on the farm.

22 March

Color And Light. Big Storm Coming Tonight. Were Ready: In The Country, We Leave Candy And Cookies For Our Amazon Drivers. In Most Cities, They Steal Their Packages

by Jon Katz

One thing I love about the country is that people here leave boxes of cookies and cough drops for Amazon drivers delivering our packages. In many cities, people steal the boxes Amazon drivers leave on their porches or stoops.

It says a lot to me.

My spiritual direction today:

If I can learn to control and hold my anger at the people who are angry towards me and also control my sorrow and fear, I will be able to recognize the roots of others’ suffering along with mine.  I am learning to be less angry.

I can identify the suffering in the people I love in that way and those who seem to need to hate me. I am working hard and seeking help to avoid being angry at others, including those I would instead love.

It’s becoming clear to me that angry people are also suffering. Understanding that changes everything.

Good night, and see you in the morning. We are expecting some snow, ice, and rain—a mess. Zip’s heated cat house is all warmed up.

Gerbera Daises

Pink roses.

22 March

“The Blond Baboon:” I Found A Great New Mystery Writer. His Name Is Janwillen Van De Wetering From Amsterdam.

by Jon Katz

I want to thank my friend Ann for guiding me to a mystery I never heard of but loved instantly.

The author, Janwillem Van De Wetering, is a former Buddhist monk, businessman, and member of the Amsterdam Police Force. That is a great background for a mystery writer, a mix that has inspired a gentle, compelling, and very well-written crime series based in one of the world’s most civilized cities.

The amiable Dutch police detectives in this book are  Detectives Gripstra and de Goer; they’ve already prompted a series of procedurals that are delightful, fascinating, and free of excessive gore and horror (the Buddhist influence, I’m guessing). I love the background details about Amsterdam, a star of the series. It  does sound like a fantastic place to live.

They work closely and skillfully together and project a striking gentleness and intuition.

I’m reading The Blond Baboon tonight, and I was into it from the first page when the two detectives get locked in an argument about a cat that knocks over marmalade bottles and shatters them all over the floor.

Gripstra and deGoer argue about it even as they chase a jewelry store thief into the alleys and through an awful storm. They catch him.

They want to get home and out of the storm (Amsterdam floods in storms). The body of Elaine Carnet – a middle-aged alcoholic, owner of a successful furniture company, and former nightclub singer is found lying at the foot of her garden steps in the middle of a hurricane, her face frozen in a macabre grin.

The detectives believe she was pushed to her death, her daughter seems to be lying about what happened, and off we go. I was hooked from the first page.

This is not a macho horror series. It’s just a really good and gentle mystery series. It reminds me a lot of P.D. James and Commander Adam Dalgleish, with Amsterdam as a backdrop. The book offers thoughtfulness and atmosphere instead of rape, kidnapping,  slaughter, and serial killers.

With the help of the Commissary (the Dutch equivalent of the British DI), their boss, a frail and saintly man. DeWatering believes that Amsterdam is, in fact, the most civilized city in the world. I’ve never been there, but this series makes me believe him.

It’s rare to stumble across a new mystery procedural that is so original, atmospheric, imaginative, and entertaining.  I’ve not seen the likes of these detectives, and I have read a lot of mysteries.

I’ll be sure to keep you posted, but I’m in so far; I’ve ordered more of the books. Thanks, Ann.

(I had to work hard to find these books and could only get used to hardcovers that were in good shape. It was worth the work. I want to read all of them, used but well preserved. We have a big storm coming tonight; I know what I’ll be doing.

 

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