Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

Maria and I got married in 2010, nine rich and meaningful years ago.

We left our big barn wedding and ran off to a two- night honeymoon. It was about all we could afford, it was at the Grafton Inn in Grafton, Vt., a historic, lovingly restored and determinedly beautiful and expensive.

The three story wood and brick building was historic, it was built in 1805, and expanded in the 1860’s.  It has been faithfully renovated and upgraded.

Ulysses Grand stayed there, Daniel Webster, Nathaniel Hawthorne and a long list of great writers and politicians. They served excellent food in a stuffy dining room,, a lot of rich and older WASP’s in attendance. I remember being one of the youngest people in the dining room, and one of the most disheveled. The staff treated me like a royal prince, when they learned it was our honey moon, dinner was on them.

The desk clert was friendly and attentive, the rooms were perfect. It was a good place for a honeymoon,  off the beaten track and beautiful. We were excited, enthralled. And smitten.

Maria and I were both beginning our new lives together. We were so happy, and I’m so grateful that this is still true. It is nothing short of a miracle to me.

We loved our room.

It was a bit upscale for us, but we loved it all the more for that.

We were given Room 12, which, the desk clerk proudly told us, was the actor Paul Newman’s favorite room when he stayed at the Grafton Inn, which was often.

It was a beautiful room, actually a  suite of rooms – a bedroom, a sitting room, a huge bathroom with a giant tub. Maria insisted we take a bubble bath together, the tub was more than big enough for both of us, and I remember her reading Shirley Jackson stories to me, as we both lay shrouded in bubbles up to our necks.

We spent two days there, loving one another,  just luxuriating in each another and in our new marriage, a rebirth, the beginning of our new lives, a resurrection for us both. We were saved.

I could not believe my good fortune, I still can’t.  When we got home, Maria gave me this small sketch, about 2 1/2 inches by 4 1/2 inches, which I saw her drawing while we sat reading on Paul Newman’s favorite hotel sofa.

The sketch is of the Room 12 Sitting Room, with desk, sofas and chairs, by a window.

I loved the sketch, Maria wrote a note to me on the back of it and I put it in my wallet.

I meant to carry it around everywhere, as a reminder of our live and our time in Paul Newman’s room.

Over these years, I forgot about it, until I had reason to clean out my wallet searching for something a few weeks ago, and it dropped out, faded but still distinct. My heart filled with love and memories of those indescribably sweet and hopeful days. It felt then that  we had both been given a new lease on life, and that was true. After a lifetime of searching, we had run across one another, right across the street from each other in remote West Hebron, N.Y.

Today, we took the sketch to a framer in East Arlington, Vt. I picked out a special frame and matte. I was pretty fussy about the frame and the glass, the frame will cost $169. Maria brought a Rachel Barlow oil painting to frame, it cost $60. I got an easel backing so I can stand it up right next to my computer while I work. I don’t really have a good place on the wall to put it.

I am so grateful to have re-discovered this most beautiful and evocative thing. I can’t wait to get it home and look at it.

I’m nine years older than I was on that honeymoon, but just as smitten, just as happy, just as much in love. My heart still lifts when I look at Maria and think about us, and what we have done together and plan to do. Miracles do happen, love is the point, she is a true soulmate and lover, something I never expected to find in my life again.

I  can still connect with the remarkable feeling we had in Paul Newman’s room. We put some dreadfully painful years behind us and joined hands and souls to set out to build a life built meaning and connection and trust and love, these feelings are just as strong today as they were in 2010 – an awful lot has happened between then and now.

We do not seek or have a perfect life, no marriage is free of conflict or accommodation. The joy comes more for me from working things out than having nothing to work out.  When we have trouble, we set right to work working things out. We alway have.

In 2010, we began our lives anew, we re-dedicated ourselves to a life of meaning and creation every single day. We vowed not to waste a single day of our life together, we had lost so many years.

Paul Newman’s  favorite room marked the official beginning of that journey for me, it was a great gift to rediscover the joy and thrill of that experience. My sketch, with special non-glare, museum glass, will keep the memory of that beginning right in front of me, where I cannot lose sight of it again.

I am embarrassed to admit that Red and I don’t seem to have been banned by New York regulatory officials, at least not yet, at the Danforth Adult Care Center, where some of the Mansion refugees have been housed for more than a week.

I am mildly ashamed to say I was looking forward to Red and I getting hauled off from there, perhaps in a police van. What a blog post that would have been: “Red Arrested Doing Therapy Work.” That would go viral in a flash.

My ego was singed a bit, I guess we are not really all that important, I told Red. I think he was disappointed to, he loves attention.

As you can see from the photo, we found Sylvie holding forth in a chair in the Bingo Room, I asked her if she needed anything, and she said she needs international stamps. Who are you writing to?, I asked. “People in other countries,” she said, mysteriously. Sylvie got me this time, I’ve brought her hundreds of stamps, but no international ones.

Sylvie is regal, she is the Queen of the Mansion. She and Maria and Red had a nice talk.

When I called Maria – she was out hunting for  fabric in thrift shops – and told her there was some chance the state of New York would ban Red and me from visiting the Mansion refugees, she said, almost instantly: “Well, now we have to go, don’t we?”

Yes, I think we do, I said, just think of the photo possibilities when I get tossed out with Red. A therapy dog getting kicked out of an adult care facility? Wow. Red is a big cheese in my world, you can’t imagine the e-mail and other mail I got when he was so sick.

I must also confess that I consistently underestimate the reach of my blog. I mostly write out of my own life and head, and I just don’t really think about who is reading it where. Most of the time, I have no idea. Apparently a lot of people are reading the blog, including state officials, legislators, and everyone involved in the Mansion and its difficulties, many of them far away.

The donations coming into the Mansion residents are from just about every state in our Union – who says we are divided? – and thank you. I can’t say precisely what happened, but it seems someone in authority somewhere was reading my blog and was irked by something I wrote. Not the first time, for sure.

There were questions raised by at least one  official about whether I should be permitted into the Danforth facility and whether I should be taking photographs.  I heard about this from some Mansion staffers who were alarmed about it.

There was a suggestion that I had no right to visit the Mansion residents there. There were no complaints from the Danforth facility, nor from the Mansion or any residents, all of whom have given me written permission to take their photos. They always have the option to say no.

This was an official complaint, I can’t say what the grounds or motives were, I can only guess, and I don’t wish to do that.

Red and I and Maria came storming into the Danforth this afternoon, making a lot of noise with books, puzzles and paper train crafts. Instead of the sheriff telling me to get lost, I found some  bored and restless Mansion residents, they are very anxious to get home, some are quite visibly depressed and sleeping long hours. They need to get back there, as I have written every day (perhaps this is not what some people wanted to read every day.)

One of the most interesting messages I got today (no official has contacted me) was from a New York state legislator – she is also reading my blog, and she is concerned at the time it’s taking to get the residents back home. I said I was  not a politician or a contractor or social workers and none of this is up to me, or even really my business. I said she needed to talk to state regulators.

So maybe my blog did some good and helped get things moving, I will never know.

I am big on boundaries, and I have no wish to plunge into the politics of this drama. Nor is anyone asking me to.

The work at the Mansion is moving forward now.

There was no asbestos found in the Mansion and some mild mold levels that need to be addressed, which will happen on Monday. After that, there will be some more final mold tests and then a lot of new carpet. There is some renovation work in several rooms that can now be completed – ceiling tile, sheetrock and paint.

There is work to be done, but the end is in sight. There is no fixed date on the resident’s return, but they will be coming home. Maybe a week, maybe a bit longer.

It looks like Red and I are not troublesome enough to get banned, and while that is a bit of a disappointment, I was also told that our visits are important to the residents, they are used to seeing us every day. So there is a silver lining to not being banned.

They need to see us regularly, I can see that. Red is now much adored by the Danforth residents, it takes half an hour to walk him out of there.

So the return will happen, not a question of if, but when.

I’ve brought enough puzzles, crafts, giant photo books, story books animals and flowers to fill a small auditorium. It is helping occupy the aides as well as the residents, but nothing will work as well as getting back to the Mansion.

I’m not sure there is more I can do right now, other than visit daily and plan for the Homecoming Celebration, which will include music and a feast of Chinese food. Your help has been invaluable, appreciated and very important.

I got a lot of letters offering bail money if Red and I got busted. No such luck. Sigh: “Letters From Jail, Me And Red!”

It is frigid here now, but I am learning that climate change is good for photographers, it brings the most beautiful skies, and I am learning how to capture this beauty, there is not much open sky around here, but there is some right above our farmhouse.

I like the shot not only because the sky is beautiful, but because it captures the feeling of being in a polar freeze. It is very cold here, and very beautiful.

So yesterday I was told that the New York Department of Health, which oversees assisted care facilities like the Mansion and the Danforth, is proposing barring Red and me from visiting the Danforth Adult Care Center, where the evacuated Mansion refugees are waiting to come home.

They are suggesting that I don’t have permission to come into the Danforth as a visitor or take any photographs there.(For the record, I don’t photograph anyone ever or anywhere without permission, and I’ve never taken a photo of any of the Danforth residents, only the Mansion residents, all of whom have given me signed permission to take their photos.)

I am simply going where they go, and I believe it is very important now that Red and I get access to them. The Mansion staff is totally supportive of this.

I don’t know if it matters much if they try to kick me out, but if they kick Red out, they will have a good sized shitstorm on their hands. Tossing a therapy dog out of an adult care center is not the best public relations in the world. And Red has a lot more fans than I do.

As to writers,  who cares?

Obviously, someone is reading my blog and not loving what they see. How else would they even know I’m going there?

I think I have a good sense of what is going on.

Some people don’t like what I’ve been writing  this week. I’ve urged the bureaucracy to move quickly and have drawn a contrast between the Mansion and other adult care centers.

The Mansion is a loving and special place, for all the leaks. The residents plead every day to go home. It’s important to make sure the Mansion is safe for them, it’s also important to see the disruption and dislocation is taking on them. They are the victims here.

I got a supportive message this morning from George Scala, one of the Mansion owners. He said he was sorry I was getting flak from the Department of Health and offered to help in any way he can.

I appreciate the support, but he has enough on his plate, I can take care of myself. And I have a great dog behind me.

George says the work on the Mansion is proceeding rapidly, he hopes the residents can return soon.

This is all familiar to me, I was a reporter a long time, and I can’t help but telling the truth about what I see, even when I don’t realize what I’m doing. I don’t wish to add to anyone else’s troubles, but I’m not backing down.

In any case, and as you can imagine, Red and I will get right over to the Danforth this morning. If anyone tries to kick out us, they will have to carry us out. I wonder if the Army Of Good does bail money? (Just kidding, I don’t anticipate getting arrested.)

I have every right to be there, and I will be there.

Bedlam Farm has its own Bonnie and Clyde, Bud, not a happy dog, and Fate, always a Hellion, have teamed up to wreak their own havoc on our quiet little farm. They go charging outside, bark at the donkeys and the sheep, tear off together in the pasture.

In the farmhouse, they hide their toys and chews, steal from one another, wrestle and chase each other under the table. I am working to bring more calm to this pair, but I have my work cut out for me. I have two dogs who know how to have fun, and are determined to have some.

I can’t say I’m not happy to see this, with dogs like this, training is never done, it just pops up here and there. I’m happy to have happy dogs. These two are partners in crime for sure.