Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

Photo by Maria Wulf

I saw this hand-made peasant hat from Romania online a month or so again, and I thought “this is my hat, this is the hat I want to wear all summer and Fall.” So I ordered it and forget about it.

Things from Romania take awhile to get her and it showed up in our mailbox today in a very non-American style box swathed in tape. When I finally got the box open and put the hat on, I fell in love with it.

This, I think, is the hat I have been searching for for a long time. When you are bald hats matter.

It is comfortable and rumpled, something an aging seeking wisdom would be happy to wear. I love it. Maria says I look like Paddington Bear. I’m not sure that is a compliment, but she says she loves the hat. I think there are Romanian peasants somewhere in my family history. It feels at home on my head.

We went to the dump today, taking Fate and Bud as usual, and we were saddened to learn that “Bob doesn’t work here anymore.” That’s all we were told and all we know.

We will miss Bob Hersey. He is a fine human being and true and great animal lover, as well as a favorite photographic subject for me. All of our dogs have known him and loved him – Gus, Fate, Bud. And he loved them.

After my open heart surgery, Bob never allowed me to carry a garbage can from the car to the garbage bin. He always had time to give the dogs a treat, to coo at Fate in the high voice she loves, to make sure Bud got  his treat.

He  saved books and special things for me and for Maria, things he thought we might like that had been thrown out. He did that for many people.

I was hurt for a second, wondering why he didn’t tell me or say goodby, but that is silly, of course, he is not obliged to do that. I’ll run into him somewhere, this is not a big town, and I go by his  house almost every day.

Fate and Bud seemed disoriented when he didn’t show up today, his replacement was quite nice, but didn’t come out to grab the garbage can out of my hand or rush out to greet the dogs. A bummer.

He made going to the dump a pleasure, for us, for our dogs. Bob is one of those people who keeps my faith alive about the goodness and generosity of people.

Life is all about change, and people will come ago, like Kelly, like Bob, like so many others in my life.

If he could make going to the dump such a pleasure, imagine how many other lives he could brighten. I will track him down and wish him luck and thank him for the pleasure and courtesy he gave us, and the great love he offered to our dogs.

Today was shearing day, and Maria said it was the “essence of Bedlam Farm.” This was true and for several reasons. The shearing went well, this is a ritual we love. The wool looked great, and we both formed a special connection between the Shearer, Liz Willis, and her very bright and competent helper, Ian.

Liz is considering leaving her day job one day and setting out to do what she loves – sharing, creating award-winning wool, running her 35 acre farm. In Vermont, it is still common for people to pursue their calling rather that simply getting a job, and living for benefits and health insurance.

But in America it is a risky and difficult choice, I respect anyone who can’t or won’t make it. I think those who take the plunge are the sacred sons and daughters of God.

Retirement funds and good health insurance are important things to have, I wish I had more of them, Maria and I have foregone living a life for security and money and retirement, I can’t speak for her, but to me, that is just another kind of slavery.

The people who frighten people into believing that are also the people who profit from it the most. The old people aren’t glad they save their money, most of them regret not doing what they loved.

So the day was especially warm and meaningful. We spent a long time with Liz and Ian talking about the choices we make and the strength and courage it takes to do what you love. We all have the right to make our own choices, but that is a sacred thing to me.

I’m sure she will make the best decision for herself, but she is impressive and gifted, it will be fun to watch her march through life.

When the shearer comes, they don’t just check the wool, they check for weight and hooves. Griselle has been limping badly this week, so Liz and I and checked her right hoof and found an infection. We cleaned and drained it. Zelda and Griselle are very thin, and we may need to separate them to give them grain and fatten them up.

I was struck by how much alike Liz and Maria are, I think both of them noticed that as well. Liz is a creative also, she sells prize winning wool and loves farming, and is debating whether or not to leave her day job and go for the life she really wants.

Like most people, she worries about benefits and retirement. I gave my usual riff about working only for money, that’s it is just another way of being a slave, it is not a good trade-off for a meaningful or creative life.

Maria felt the same way, I thought I could see a real friendship forming right in front me. Liz got a tour of Maria’s studio and she peppered us with questions about how we live.

I know most people choose security over an independent and creative life, but we have no regrets about our choices, no matter what happens to us. Everyone has the right to make up their own mind and live out their own choices, but we also have the right to say how we feel.

It was a good and important time with Liz.

Ian and I agreed to get together and talk some more, he is also making some important decisions about his life. We are grateful to know people like this, and experience the rewards of having them in our lives.

The sheep look great and I think we will be skirting wool today and tomorrow.