Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

We’re back from our two annual Christmas trek to a favorite in Vermont. It was just what we needed, except for my getting stuck in a bathtub and unable to get up. We found a chess set that the in keeps around, and we were both delighted to revisit our love of the game.

When I lived in New York City, I went to Washington Square as often as possible to play chess with the masters and champions who earned a good living by beating people like me for $5 or $10—a game.

The games rarely lasted for more than four or five moves. And the outcome was always the same for all of us. We lost.

We paid to play with them and hoped to learn. Maria and I are both intensely creative and hate to lose anything. But we were laughing and loving the experience. It’s excellent brain food.

I never beat one of the chess masters in Washington Square Park; they played with ten people at a time, beating all of us as they moved down the line, making moves that we never anticipated or knew how to answer. But I loved seeing these extraordinary minds at work.

Sometimes, the masters would play with each other, and huge crowds would grow to shout moves and warnings and be loud and obnoxious as we all rooted for our favorites and second-guessed every move.

Our Congress surpassed New York City in nasty and aggressive people only. Maria and I got hooked again (she also played as a kid) as we arrived at the inn and were happy to remember that we were well-matched.

It was a sudden thing, playing chase; we were waiting for our room to be cleaned. But it took hold. We had a blast. We’re planning again tonight. We love beating one another but hold no grudges, at last none that are visible.

Maria is very bright and intuitive; her only weakness in chess is impatience. She also loves to win, so she is leaning to slow down.

She is highly distractable, and her mind is always off somewhere, reviewing some new ideas for her art or the farm. I am an aggressive chess player and never retreat. I love to rattle the cage.

I bail out the second I lose my Queen; the game gets off balance. I don’t care for hopeless games to drag on; I’d instead get started again.

Maria destroyed me in the first few games, primarily by grabbing my exposed Queen, and then I found my footing and won a couple. I was moving too quickly and needed to think more, a lifelong issue. I get lazy in the head when I’m not focusing.

If I take my time, she gets anxious, impatient, and sometimes blunders. I also recall some tricky and successful moves. I have the same problem. When I slow down, I do well. She hasn’t learned to plan her attacks yet, but that won’t take long.

In the first three games, Maria took my Queen every time, and I surrendered two times. I was rushing it without a real plan.

Then I got my wings back and won a couple of games. Some good moves were coming back to me. I love playing chess.

 

(An 1870 covered bridge. Vermont has many covered bridges and raging streams.)

I was rusty, but I look forward to playing with her often. I will try to kick her ass, and she is pleased kicking mine. Ah, love…Sitting in our adjoining little reading room at the inn was delightful. It was also a great place to read, talk, and meditate.

We are hooked on chess. This is going to be a regular thing.

The only other excitement came from my trying to bathe in the small but beautiful bathtub Maria loves to sit in, lost in a giant bubble bath.

I don’t have the stomach to go into the details, but the tub was way too small for me, and I couldn’t get any leverage to stand up. It wasn’t comfortable and very slippery; I couldn’t stand up for half an hour, and Maria could not pull me up.

I won’t do this anymore – it was embarrassing – but I did get to turn onto my knees and push myself up.

We figured we might have to call for help for a few minutes, which would have been acutely embarrassing for me. At one point, I even thought we would need an ambulance.

I panicked for a while, thinking we had to call an ambulance – my back was still tender from my concussion fall, and I couldn’t figure out how to make any purchases. I didn’t want to end up in a hospital again.

Enough said it worked out all right. Part of intelligent aging is understanding what I can and can’t do and accepting both. I think there’s a pride issue in there that I have to deal with.

(Vermont is full of raging streams, especially with all of this rain)

The idea was not to panic or give up but to try different moves until I found the right one. It was not something I should have been doing, and I won’t try it again.

Tomorrow, I plan on working for a half day – morning only, and then being quiet, gentle, and thoughtful. We want to be together in the afternoon; we might go to Mass Moca to see the new exhibits there. We will take it easy on Saturday and Sunday, working till noon or not a tell. I’ll be putting up my color and lig pictures every evening.

Our big project will be to replace the Ed Gulley Memorial Bridge that enables us to get into our woods. The heavy rains and winds obliterated Ed’s bridge. We will keep the name but rebuild the bridge in his honor.

Maria loves those woods; she shares her thoughts, observations, videos, and pictures on her blog. She gets very close to nature and has learned how to capture it.

We will both work together to haul two huge boards of timber down the bridge sitt – each board is 20 feet long – and she plans to nail them together, ground them with cinderblocks, and make a new strong bridge, almost all by herself.

I’ll be taking photos, offering advice, and being permitted to help in more ways. Above, Maria walked on the covered bridge full of feeling. She’s in charge.

We thought it was the most beautiful tree; it is always dying and being trimmed, but it still looms large among other trees and holds its ground. Time is not on its side. But it’s beautiful every time we look at it.

We have a small reading room next to our inn room. We love it. We can sit in peace and just read for hours.

Libraries elsewhere are struggling, but not in Vermont. They love the libraries there and support them enthusiastically.

Maria loves to sketch everywhere we go; she sketched this corner of our inn room. Someday, I hope she puts her sketches together and finds a way to publish them.