It snowed on Zip’s back porch chair today. We put a new and dry cushion on it, and he went to sleep for four or five hours. This is Zip’s favored place for sunlight daytime napping. At night, I’m still determining where he is, either in the woodshed or in his heated cat house, which he is fond of.
This is a cat who loves his freedom. I love how cats curl into a ball and sleep almost anywhere. I feel Zip in the sunlight. His coat soaks up heat and is warm.
I’ve had a lot of trouble figuring out the best way to take photos of our birds. No matter how far I stood, they would disappear at the sight of me, and then there was this hefty lens I just got; it made the camera heavy and had to be held just so. In warm weather, I’ll put it on a tripod, sit on my ass and wait for the birds; they won’t be on the feeder.
I have more things to learn about the lens, but I’m getting there. I won’t quit.
I was pretty happy with the photos today, but I don’t know how I want to photograph birds and nature. I got some good ideas today. I’ve been writing all day and am wearing out; I’m on a heavy dose of antibiotics from the implant surgery yesterday. I was exhausted yesterday.
But I’m better today. Come and see what, if any, progress I’m making.
My breakthrough was noticing that the birds didn’t fly away from the car when I drove the car into the yard. So I took my super lens, drove the car about 25 feet from the feeder, opened the window, and pointed the camera. It was cold. It was fun.
The sun was blinding and made it hard for me to see. The birds weren’t bothered, and I got some bird photos I liked. I’m starting to get the feeling I want.
This will be fun. With birds, I will have to work hard; I can see that. They are predictable and slow.
Three birds are in this photo, but I must look at their feet to know.
Many birds landed on the feeder simultaneously; it was exciting and chaotic.
The new lens is superb I doubt I could get close like this without them.
I like taking these photos. I like the challenge of it, and I have a lot more work to do. This is, I confess, harder than pointing a camera at beautiful flowers. The birds remind me of border collies; they are always in motion. They will get used to me in a while.
Our little town just got a chunk of its soul back recently when Sue Lamberti, our town’s florist for years, came out of retirement to open a new florist shop. It may sound like a minor thing, but it feels like we got some of the town’s heart back; Sue’s sudden retirement left a big hole in Cambridge. We needed a place to buy flowers locally and give them to people.
Maria and I are flower people – I’m an addict – and I don’t mean taking photos.
We give flowers to everyone we know at one time or another. I bring them to Mansion residents, Sue Silverstein, friends on birthdays and in hospitals, the harried staff at Walgreens, nurses in my doctor’s offices on anniversaries, friends we visit, and most often, just because we love to give people flowers.
I’ve been doing this all of my life.
Maria loves flowers at any time of year, and I haven’t been able to feed that beautiful craving. I’ve already brought her some from Sue’s store.
Sue Lamberti, a kind and shy person, had a beautiful flower shop in her house on the edge of town. One day, I showed up to buy flowers and found she was gone. It wasn’t the end of the world, but I’ve always thought a town without a florist was somewhat barren and lonely. She said she was tired of running a business and needed a break. She seems tired of having a break and wants to sell flowers.
That’s what it felt like to me.
She said she missed being a florist and decided to come back. She did it with class and diversity; there are all kinds of goodies in that shop, from stuffed toys for kids to flowers to too many things to name. Her new shop reflects her knowledge of the town and her connection to it. There are kinds of things to look at and buy, most of them inexpensive and sweet.
Sue had a beautiful retriever who hung out in her shop; he was as sweet and friendly as Zinnia.
Her dog died, and she got an Australian Shepherd to replace him. She loves the dog, but he’s too excited to come to a florist and craft shop – Sue is selling many things in her new shop. We bought some daffodils for $6 each this morning, and I suddenly realized she was the same Sue who had been our florist before.
I’ve mainly been dealing with Michael, her partner when I come to the store, and Sue, who was so quiet (she retired five or six years ago) that I didn’t recognize her. She was too shy to identify with me, but I asked her where I knew her, and it clicked this morning.
Small businesses frequently close in cities, and some other business replaces it. When small companies leave a small town, it leaves an empty hole that’s hard to replace. We bought flowers this morning, and then Maria, delighted as I was to connect with Sue again, went back to the store this afternoon to bring some flowers to a friend she is taking a walk with right now.
Florists are not just another store. I’ve learned about the power flowers have to uplift people and mark the passages of life.
Maria and I are both flower lovers, as is obvious, and I brought Zinnia in to greet Sue; they had a beautiful meeting. I told Sue she could borrow Zinnia any time she needed to have a dog. Sue loves dogs, and I believe she will always have one. It was a happy and much valued return.
I bought two boxes of chocolates today and brought them to Walgreens. I admire the staff there for many reasons.
One is that I need them and talk to them often, and another is that they are consistently courteous and helpful. Sometimes, I hear people giving them a hard time because of the high cost of medicine. It’s not the tech’s fault, so every month or so, I drop off some chocolates to brighten life in the pharmacy. Sue’s Cambridge Flower Shop store is just around the corner.
Sue is high on my list of portraits of people I like, respect, or love. I don’t know her well enough yet to love her, but I love her shop. She is nice. There are lots of beautiful flowers there. I like Michael, too; they are courteous and easy to talk with.
I had the hunch before she retired that I made Sue a bit nervous. I often have that impact on people I dont know. Sometimes I imagine it, sometimes it’s true.
I didn’t get that feeling today.
Welcome back, Sue, you were missed, and you are welcome home. The town is richer for your return.
You are on my list of people in my life I want to revisit, talk to, and photograph.
I was reading an essay about Meaningful Thinking and living in the moment. One of the class members raised her hand and asked me: “but isn’t meditation just like making art?” one of them asked me, as heads around the table nodded up and down.
“It has the same calming effect on us,” another said.
Yes, I said a great observation. There is a similarity.
This was so true I insisted that we talk about it. And we did.
( Need Help! The Mansion aides say the residents always draw and burn through art markers. I’ve been buying them as fast they run out, but I’m getting low on Mansion Fund money, as usual, and I’m asking for help in getting a lot of art coloring markers to the Activities room; the residents are excited about their art and. and drawing with those markers day and night. “We can’t keep them fast enough, ” says Paryese, the Activities Director. Please consider sending some markers to the Mansion, address Paryese Bates Becker, The Mansion, 11 S. Union Street, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. Thank you. If you don’t care to purchase them online, you can send a check to me, Jon Katz, Mansion Fund, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. And thanks.)
We had a great talk about how living in the low eliminates all kinds of anger and anxiety. You don’t get ahead, you don’t look bad, you focus on where you are at the moment. It’s easy to underestimate the intelligence of people in assisted care. They don’t often get a chance to stretch their minds. Art activities seem to be doing it.
The residents got the idea; we talked about it to lunch. We also practiced deep breathing, which the residents said made a huge difference. The class is working out beautifully; I can’t wait to get there on Fridays and share and teach what I am learning.
I have learned a lot from the residents; hopefully, they will learn some things from me. They insist that they are. We’ve come a long way together in the class; we’re still in progress.
Meditation, I said, brings the body into the work. “When body and mind are together,” writes Thich Nhat Hanh, “you are fully president. You are fully alive, and you can touch the wonders of life that are available in the here and the now.”
Sharon, a Mansion resident, has been an influential class member. She is a published poet and brings me a poem almost weekly if she’s up to it. Sharon is sick and has been in the hospital often. She’s never quit writing her poems.
She’s a valued friend.
I love the meditation class; it means the world to me, and I hope it is helpful to them. The love at the table is overwhelming.
Here is the one she brought me today. I look forward to her poems; there is so much life in them:
“My Dear Love,
My love begins and ends with you. I can’t imagine my life without you,
So close, but so far away!
I’ve known you for over 40 years, working towards fifty.
Someday, our life will be through, but I’ll be happy because I will hopefully be with you.
The first time I heard you laugh or saw your smile, I knew it was edited.
I still feel you as much as I did then.
Some people are just meant to be!”
Below, Jane is using one of the markers.
Another cold and beautiful morning. Another excellent Meditation Class At The Mansion. Zinnia and Zip cement their relationship. A Beloved Business Comes Back To Town. This and other good news are coming up this afternoon. I’ve got to get the morning Farm Journal up first. Here it is. Zinnia and Zip have begun touching noses every morning. It was just a matter of time.
The first thing I do in the morning is photograph the farm early. I love to catch the morning sun. It’s a trademark now. (thanks for your kind words about the pictures) It’s become a trademark of the blog and a very satisfying morning ritual. It’s a beautiful way to begin another day. I like wearing a bathrobe rather than nothing. It’s warmer.
You are invited to come along for the ride.
This morning, Zinnia became the newest animal to make peace with Zip, who has dominated and charmed life here. We are returning to the Peaceable Kingdom once more. The hens don’t mind returning to the barn or Zip coming into the roost. Zinnia stopped trying to chase Bud, and they touched noses today, a formal sign of peace and friendship.
It always takes our animals a few months to acclimate to a new resident. Zip fits right in; even the donkeys have taken in his presence. Now, I have two animals walking alongside me when I walk around – Zip and Zinnia.
Zip started out chasing the hens and keeping them out of the barn. Now, they just all hang out together. Bud goes in and out of the pasture as if he was born there. We are serious about having a Peaceable Kingdom here on the farm. We’ve learned to let our animals work it out for themselves. They know how to do it. Few people don’t. Farmers almost always do.
Instead of harassing and lying about farmers, the animal rights movement would do better to live with farmers for a while. They know animals better than any animal rights warrior that I know.
I love the shape and design of this old farmhouse down the road. It captured the snow yesterday.
Zinnia and I usually walk together in the pasture while Maria is showered and dressed. It’s a sweet time; Zinnia is one of those dots who can go anywhere, anytime. We have the most excellent relationship; it is love without words.
