The sun burst through the clouds around 4 p.m., and the wind is blowing the fire smoke out and away from us, at least for now. I was happy to see the sun. It’s been a few gloomy days.

The post Here Comes The Sun appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

I was talking about our farm at the podiatrist’s office this morning, and Dr. Daly asked me, “Why do people have donkeys?’

I had to pause. I got a donkey, I said, because they are good guard animals and they would protect my sheep (and they have, no coyote or stray dog has come near the sheep in 15 years). But they have come to mean more than that to me and Maria.

They are intelligent, affectionate, and have loads of personality. They are independent, not pests. They love attention, but they also like to be left alone to hang out with one another.

They are transactional. You must give them something in return if you want something from them.

If you get one, you will need two; they need the company of other donkeys.

It is easy to care for them. They are hardy, will eat almost anything green, and stay healthy. They do need hay in the winter. They must trim their hooves three or four times a year (sometimes more.)

They are loyal, but donkeys have a history of being overworked and mistreated. They are always wary of people and must be persuaded to do certain things. Everything has to be their idea. It won’t get done if they don’t feel comfortable doing something.

Donkeys are among the most abused animals on the earth; some of them are cranky and nasty as a result. If you ever want one, do your homework and get one of the many gentle donkeys.

They love creatures at heart; they love to be brushed and have their backs and necks scratched. They bray when they want attention, about once or twice a day. They love snacks like alfalfa chunks and apples.

They love to hang out with us. If we take a chair out in the pasture, they will come up gently and offer themselves for scratching. When they are finished, they will walk away.

They hear everything and miss nothing. Our donkeys love children.

Donkeys have pride and dignity, have been around humans for thousands of years, and can read us easily and from a distance. They will take off if I come out with medicine in my rear pocket. If I have a carrot hidden in the same bag, it will come right to me.

Every afternoon, when Lulu sees me get out of the car, she brays softly, asking me for an alfalfa treat. I can’t resist this; she gets an alfalfa treat daily unless I am not home.

Having them has been one of the most rewarding experiences in my life. Donkeys have a deep spiritual dimension; religious artists have painted them for thousands of years. They were considered as valuable as money in Jerusalem and other countries. They have a deep connection to Christianity. Jesus’s little donkey stayed with him until she died on the Cross.

The following day, he was still there.

They are more intelligent than dogs, less eager to please, but quite beautiful creatures. I got donkeys to guard the sheep when I came to the farm. I have them now because I love them dearly and love to go out every morning and kiss them on the nose.

Dr. Daly smiled and turned to the nurses. “They sound wonderful,” she said.

The post A Sweet Moment With Lulu. She Has My Number. Why Does Anyone Have A Donkey? appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

It was great to be out in the fresh air again; the Canada fires seem to be drifting away. I took a few pictures and walked around the farm. Art flowers coming later.

The heart of a dahlia

Color And Light.

The post The Sun Just Popped Out, The Skies Cleared. Some Flowers To Celebrate. More Later appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

Canada’s wicked and nasty winds have subsided a bit here, I am breathing more easily at the moment, and my sky is returning to me. I am a creature of color and light. We are scrambling tonight to get ready for our two-day anniversary excursion.

I’m going to see a chiropractor in the morning (those damned surgical boots), and then we will be off. There will be no blogging until Sunday or possibly Monday morning – please do not conclude that I am  dead or dying; this is just time off for a celebration of our love and wonderful time together.)

It’s important for me to take a break from technology, I am working like everyone else to balance technology with my need for a spiritual existence. No phones, no news. Donald Trump, Ron DeSantis, Vladimir Putin, Elon Musk, Tucker Carlson,  most of Congress,  and all the Trolls in the world can all chew and gnaw on one another.

Maybe they will eat each other up. I have to admit I love being woke, even if I don’t know what it means.

I’m on a path to creativity and gentle warmth. My goals are clear. I got out to take some photos, regular and art. I’ll be putting them up late this afternoon and early this evening. Thank you all for existing and supporting me and my work.

The post My Blue Sky Is Coming Back To me. Preparing For Silence And Love. Creativity And Gentle Warmth. appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

I admit to being in awe of My Podiatric Surgeon, Dr. Pamela Daly. As a journalist, I met many influential people; I was in awe of very few of them. I am in awe of Dr. Daly. Every time I see her, I tell Maria, we’ll we’re done now; it’s all over. But it isn’t.

Dr. Daly is so far ahead of me I’m not sure we are on the same planet. The infected toe that sent me to the hospital last week has healed, as has the toe. But she would like to make is much safer. She prefers that I never need to go to the emergency room again.

The toe that got me infected is called a Hammerhead toe; it curls down and rubs against my shoe and brace. She found a tiny callous on the toe today, and she is concerned we may have a repeat of the trouble of the now amputated big toe. There is no further infection, and she plans to keep it that way.

It’s a smart and great call. The procedure will keep the toe up for good. The new brace will protect it further. I am very fortunate to have medical care of this quality and competence and skill.

Dr. Daly has a plan, as always. Next Thursday, more surgery, this time quickly. She will sever the tendon in that toe so that the toe springs up flat, and there will be little or no risk of more callouses or ulcerations that could be infected.

(I nominate Karen as the best podiatric nurse on the planet. She has been laughing, crying, bandaging, and commiserating throughout this experience. She has a wicked dry sense of humor and we mostly laugh when we are in the same room. She loves fudge, and next week, when I go in for my last (hopefully) foot surgery, she will get a big box of freshly made fudge.  She deserves that and more. Thank you, Karen you are awesome, you are the best. She is, like Maria, a warrior woman, sky-diving, hunting, fishing camping out in the wild, and sleeping on the forest floor. Karen makes it fun.)

I was disappointed to hear this but also excited.

We are very close; I can feel it.

I think we are coming to the end of this long and challenging chapter. Dr. Daly is thinking ahead. She always thinks of how I can prevent trouble; she doesn’t let me stumble into it.

So next Thursday, she is back to her surgery for one more (we hope) procedure. Mostly, what I felt was gratitude. This is the best care anyone could ask for when dealing with podiatric troubles. She and her staff are well known for being the best, and she is the best. I am fortunate to have you here as a guide to a safer and healthier place.

I trust her completely; this is a great chance to wrap this up and move on. David, the wizard from CPO, the orthotics maker, has sent her all the paperwork she needs to make a formal request to my insurance company. I could never afford to do this on my own.

David is experienced and impressive. Soon, I’ll go see him for a fitting, and we can get down to the business of being able to walk with comfort again. This will take planning, adjustments, and a lot of patience, which I don’t have a log of. I’ll find some.

I am totally committed to this process; I will do whatever I can for as long as I can to be walking again in a strong and normal way. I can smell it.

It’s been a long haul, and it might get longer yet. But I couldn’t have better or more competent people trying to help me. The surgical boot has to stay, and no shower until next Thursday at the earliest. Probably longer than that, now that I think about it.

The post I’m Back! More Surgery Next Week. We Are Getting Closer And Closer, At The Precipice Of A Great Success appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

My mood is often tied to the sun and my blue sky. Today is gloomy, misty, heavy in Canadian wildfire smoke, and hard to breathe easily. The Peone looks beautiful in the rain.

The Canadian wildfire smoke is supposed to last into the weekend, then drift West and South. I’d suggest taking it seriously. We are really feeling it here.

We’re heading off to Dr. Daly for my scheduled check on the foot that landed me in the hospital last week. The food and the toe looked great, and hopefully, I can get out of the surgical shoes and shower again. We’ll see. I dodged a bullet last week and am grateful.

The good news is that I heal quickly and well.

Maria and have a favorite breakfast place in Schuylerville on the way to Saratoga Springs and the surgical podiatrist’s suite. We’ll stop for an egg sandwich.

I’ll stop to get some Amish cookies for the nurses there. They love cookies. More later, I have lots of stuff to write about.

More later.

The post Gloomy Day, Off To Dr. Daly, Checking On The Foot appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

Maria wearing make-up is something I never thought I would see, and may only see once or twice again. Nothing but her comrades in her belly dancing class could make this happen.

After a recent performance, where she showed up looking like a raccoon when she made up herself for the first time, the other dancers got together and huddled.

They met with her, gave her make-up lessons, and even some of their favorite make-up. She loves them all.

They taught her how to do it for the two upcoming performances in Bennington, Vermont, this summer.

Maria has never worn make-up and doesn’t want to, but nothing is too much to ask for her belly-dancing sisters; they are a close-knit and ferociously supportive group.

I asked her if I could take a photograph to share on the blog. It could be a once-in-a-lifetime portrait.

This weekend marks our 14th wedding anniversary, one of the best days of my life. We’re off offer for two days – Friday and Saturday – to the beautiful old Vermont Inn, where we honeymooned and go every year for our anniversary.

No blogging, no devices, just love and books and good food. And lots of sleep. The last few months have been a trial, I can’t speak for her, but I would never have made it through without her.

We’re leaving early Friday morning and back around noon on Sunday. I can’t quite get used to her in make-up, but she did this herself, and it looks pretty good to me. What do I know? I’d love her if she wore mud on her face.

Some days, she does.

The post Portrait, Someone I Love: Something You May Never See Again: Maria Wearing Make-U. appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

June 10th marks our 14th wedding anniversary, I’m not much for anniversary and birthday celebrations, but this one is sacred to me. Friday morning, we are leaving for a two-day trek to our favorite Inn in Vermont. We honeymooned there and have gone back every June since.

We’ve even kind a room with a reading suite attached. Friday morning, we’re going on a drive along the Connecticut River, and by afternoon, we’ll be at the Inn. We’re coming home  Sunday morning; a wonderful farm-watcher is coming to stay with the animals and watch the farm.

There will be no blogging and no devices or pictures for two days.

As always, I have two books ready to come. The first is by S.A. Cosby, known as the new master of Southern Noir. I’ve come to love his mysteries. They are a little violent for me but never grotesque, and nobody captures the dark side of the South better. Our hero Titus Crown finds himself a lawman in a small rural Virginia town.

I’ve gotten to love his work and his characters. His plots are pretty wild. He captures the rural South in a brilliant way. His main character is African-American, and race hovers in the background.

The second is by Abraham Verghese, the title is The Covenant Of Water, and it’s a daunting 722 pages long. He is the author of the very wonderful The Cutting of Stone, which I have  albo bought and just might read first, now that I think of it.

I’d never put a dent in this new Verghese novel in two days unless I never got up in the morning. I’ve taken a peak. It looks fabulous.

He’s a wonderful writer, teacher, and practicing physician at Stanford University.

Our trips to Vermont are a cherished ritual. We can’t afford long vacations or leave the farm for too long. A farm is more confining than a little kid; we are very happy here.

Our marriage is a miracle to me, and I am happy to celebrate our marriage to this wonderful person in this very comfortable and peaceful way. We need to rest our brains.

I admit with are exhausted after our Spring Of Surgeries. How great it will be to sit on the patio and read. And sleep and sleep.

The post Two Books For Our 14th Anniversary Trip This Weekend appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

The wildlife cloud settled over the farm the past two days, and it has affected me. My eyes are teary and irritated; I am coughing continuously, congested,  and sometimes short of breath when I go outside.

For once, I’ve decided to be careful about warnings; there are so many. I wear special eye drops and a mask outside if my breathing gets too difficult.

I initially thought I was getting a head cold, but I realized today it was the wildfire smoke from Canada.

This is serious stuff; I feel for the people down South around New York City; they are getting hit even harder.

If you look at the photo, you can see the cloud over the pasture. The animals seem sluggish to me, but okay.

I’m afraid I won’t be taking any fresh new flower pictures; it’s just too rough on me outside. I will put one up from last week; I will never run out of flower photos.

Tomorrow morning, I go to see Dr. Daly for a look at my foot to make sure it is healed.I hope I can return to showering and wearing regular shoes.

The post A Cloud Over Bedlam: Wildflower Smoke Calls My Bluff. I Can Only Go Outside For A Minute. Just One Former Photo appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

My daughter Emma sent me this photo this afternoon; it was taken in Brooklyn, just outside of their apartment. The light was so dark by early afternoon that some people were walking around the city with flashlights, and all the inside lights were turned on.

The schools shut down early in the morning.

It is bad here as well, the mountains completely obscured by a yellowish fog. The air alert is on until midnight, but the wildfire smoke from Canada is expected to be around for a few days.

The post From Brooklyn – “Welcome To Mars…” appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

I don’t recall where our Wonder Woman came from, but she has occupied a place of honor on the windowsill above the kitchen sink for a few years.

We have our own Wonder Woman right here on the farm; she goes about her life quietly and diligently.

She even rode on her own horses. I think of her as the Other Wonder Woman. Ours does it all with less drama.

The post Still Life: Wonder Woman, Right Here In Our Kitchen…We Have Our Own Superhero appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

The Internet has been challenging for someone like me, who is not a natural listener and who worked alone and unreachable for much of my life.

I’m now connected to the world wide Web; tens of millions of people – billions, theoretically – who have access to my blogging and my opinions, and many of them are eager to tell me what to think, write and do.

These are often strangers, they do not know me, and I do not know them. I’m sitting out there like a bit white whale.  I choose to write in this medium, which is right for me, and I take responsibility for that.

We live in a shameless time. There is no possibility of consequence, accountability,or punishment for lies, conspiracy theories, cruelty, or threats.

These kinds of messages have become epidemic in the years since Donald Trump became President and have poisoned our civil discourse. Not only was he not punished or rejected for this,  he was worshipped,  elevated, and elected President. He is revered to this day.

President Trump legitimized lying openly and hating people who think differently or in opposition to him. That was and is a tragedy for our democracy, a blasphemy of what made America so crucial to the world. Ron DeSantis is his child.

Everyone who writes in public or online has felt this ugly change. This threw me, the child of immigrants who loved America,  off balance.

For most of my life, I was a reclusive book writer; I only interacted with readers only on friendly book tours funded by my publisher.

I have this idea in my head that somebody needs to challenge trolls, busybodies, emotionally disturbed, and rude and inclusive people when they send me messages that I feel are hostile and disrespectful. But I am learning this is not my job or my purpose. I need a better idea.

Sometimes I overreact, and too often, too quickly and too sharply. I am a busy person, pressured by work, pictures, blogging, and life; some of these messages trigger old and ugly things in me. I get a lot of e-mails, and I’ve learned to answer in brisque and sometimes thoughtless ways.

I have suffered from mental illness and can often be triggered by what I perceive as assaults, especially unjust ones.

When I wrote about its birth as a media critic, I always thought the Internet would help democracy, not tear it down. A mad genius like Elon Musk in such a powerful position was not conceivable.

I have been working – often unsuccessfully – to understand how to respond appropriately to all of this fury, and my anger and quick trigger finger, and this week, a blog reader named Gretchen has helped me break through this pattern and move ahead. Perhaps unwittingly, she crystallized my ambitions for my blog.

I want the blog to be a safe and positive place. A safe, creative, and gentle place.

Anger and nastiness are incompatible with the person I hope to be or the blog I love so much. There is a Jekyll and Hyde in there.

This is already changing. I’ve had intensive discussions with a therapist about it, and I am doing better at listening to the people who criticize me, especially those of goodwill. I have no apologies to make to the cruel and arrogant.

By sticking with me in a sometimes intense dialogue,   Gretchen has helped me see things in a different light. I’ve set a new goal for myself, and I think I will stick with it.

She and I had a dialogue that speaks to the great potential of the Internet to communicate with people rather than argue with them. It turned out to be productive and very important to me.

This exchange began when Gretchen told me she thought I was too often rude and nasty to people I felt were hostile or intrusive. I asked her why this was her business, a question I often ask people I believe to be too pushy or intrusive. Usually, they have no answer and offer no reply.

Gretchen was different. She replied.

Her first letter: “I’m asking because I’m one of your readers and have been a donor. But I’m concerned about recommending the blog and the programs you raise funds for because you seem unable to let the typical internet trolls slide. Your nasty bite-back lowers you to their level. I find it uncomfortable, and it has caused me, and a few others I know, to hold back support of you.”

I was hurt and angered by the letter, I didn’t accept her characterization of me as too dangerous or cruel to read safely, and I still don[t, but I sensed her goodwill and sincerity. She responded thoughtfully and courteously to my replies, and I realized this was a good and valuable reader who deserved respect and honest dialogue, even if we disagreed.

We were communicating, not posturing. It became a conversation, not an argument.

That is something increasingly rare online or in America.

I’ve realized lately that a trigger for me is a message’s hostile, pompous, or cruel tone. People who disagree with me openly and civilly are welcome and valued. I love to argue. People who civilly write me rarely have a problem. I have to change the way I see it.

After some back and forth – the tone of both of us seemed to improve; we were beginning to talk as one human being to another, not remote and disconnected beings who did not know or understand each other. She thought I was being cruel and “nasty,” as she put it, I had no idea where she was coming from or why she was making these arguments.

We did not know one another. The blog, in my mind, is not a dangerous place, too volatile for her friends.

This was the breakthrough message from Gretchen to me:

I don’t mean to tell you what to do or to intrude. Your brusque clap-back replies to people you perceive as rude or intrusive are unsettling. I’ve seen this happening, as have you, since I began writing internet content professionally in 1999. I’ve been reading your blog since 2007, and I appreciate you. I don’t know; perhaps I’ve grown fragile to so much snark on the Web. Your blog is, for me, a place of creativity and gentle warmth; I guess I’m seeking refuge from other, less spiritual Web sites, but I have no business asking of you.

This struck home with me—her tone had changed, revealing the natural person underneath. I liked that person right away. And this is a spiritual website.

I’ve been progressing on this issue; I’m deleting about 90 percent of negative messages without comment. A part of me still clings to this idea that I am obliged to respond to cruelty. But I don’t.

Gretchen’s final message struck home with me.

It rang true.

She had revealed herself as a thoughtful and caring person who wasn’t comfortable with my anger showing up on a website meant to be a haven and refuge from what she called the “snark’ of the Web world.

Her blog vision further touched me for invoking the idea of a creative, spiritual, and gentle place, a kind of refuge from the madness, chaos, and violence of our world. That is what I want it to be.

I thanked her for her courtesy and thoughtfulness, and she said she had decided to stay with me as I worked this out (I told her she had to make up her own mind, I couldn’t help her).

You can’t ask for more than that, and I didn’t and don’t.

I asked my Web designers to change the sub-title of the blog from Love.Care.Hope to “Creativity And Gentle Warmth…” That will happen next week.

I write about trying because I want to be okay with failing.

I write about anger because I want to be better.

I write about being good because I want to do good.

I write about joy because I know sorrow.

I write about gratitude because I am thankful – for all of it.

The post An Online Conflict With A Good And Important Ending: “Creativity And Gentle Warmth:” I Try Because I Want To Be Okay WIth Failing appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

I came in to check on Maria as she was tacking her newest beautiful quilt (sold already). It was a great image.

The post Maria’s Studio: Tacking A Quilt appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

Air pollution warnings are very rare up here, but we have been getting them all week. I can smell the smoke from the massive Canadian wildflowers and have been advised to stay inside. I went out to take my morning photos, and the air is yellowing and smelled like what it is – burning wood. I didn’t stay out too long.

I love to take flower photos in the sun, but there is no sun, and the mist is thick and disturbing. The air is thick and yellow. We are used to very fresh air here, and the smoke is triggering a continuing cough from me. In New York, many schools canceled classes.

Today is a quiet day for me, with no appointments, no plans.  I think I will stay inside, except for a few trips into town.

I can’t wait to get the bookstore to pick up A.S. Cosby’s new mystery, All The Sinners Bleed. I love his Southern Noir way of writing.

The flowers didn’t really seem to mind the wildfire smoke. Come and see. People keep asking me if I am well. I am.

Without the sun, the flowers look softer and more fragile.

Every flower is beautiful in its way. My job is to capture that feeling.

I love the “soul” of flower photos. Each one does have its own feeling and soul.

The post Flowers Photos Despite The Wildfire Smoke From Canada. And A New S.A. Cosby Mystery appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

Maria invited the sheep and the donkeys into the backyard, where the dogs hang out. The grass is much greener there, and there is shade and no grazing. She just went out and invited them in, and they all followed her quite peacefully and grazed for a while.

I knew it wouldn’t last long; they would soon go after the flowers she had so painstakingly planted out there.

After a half hour or so she couldn’t take it and shooed them out. The donkeys were allowed to stay; they seem to know better than to eat Maria’s flowers.

The post Inviting the Sheep And Donkeys Into The Dog Kennel. It Didn’t Last Long. appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

The regular flower pictures are where I look for clarity and brightness of color. I experiment with space, color, and focus in the art photos. I’m leaning toward looking beyond the flower itself and considering the color and background behind it.

Flowers dont stand alone any more than we do; they are connected to the color and light around them.

(The picture above is of my raven, a muse I usually keep by my desk but will spend the summer out in the garden beds. He needs to get outside someetimes.)

I have a camera now that can help me focus on space, not just a single flower. It’s exciting. Both approaches are essential; one doesn’t get to replace the other or isn’t better than the other. This isn’t a competition. I have a lot to learn about focus and composition.

But I love experimenting now that I have the camera and a couple of lenses that make it possible. One day I’ll get one or two more lenses, but not for a while.

I’m not writing too much longer today, and I am putting these photos up on the blog now because I’m exhausted; I’ve got a cold running amok in my head, and  I’m going to see a chiropractor about my back. Surgical shoes will protect my feet but wreak havoc with my leg.

I’ve been trying to play catch up with my feet for months; I’m determined to do it now. That means getting a new brace for the new foot.

I’m checking out after this post; blog-wise, it was a great day. I love the new motto, “Creativity and gentle warmth…”  Thanks to Gretchen for giving me this idea and a new goal to strive for.

The peone is a centerpiece at the moment; it just stands out in the garden. I love this shade of pink.

This photo is a good example of widening the scope of the flower. The peone is still the centerpiece, but I can weave in the other colors and the red barn as a beautiful background. These are photos I need to think about.

The begonias have lot of emotion.

This photo practically framed itself.

The sun lights up the nasturtiums in a very special and beautiful way. I can never resist them in the sun.

Last one for tonight. Have a restful and meaningful evening, I’ll check in in the morning,and thanks for all of your support. I will try to  be worthy of it.

The post Free Art Show Tonight, Tuesday January 6, 2023. Creativity And Gentle Warmth. Experimentation, Too. appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

I was hit with several respiratory issues this morning – lots of pollen, an air alert warning me to stay inside because of smoke drifting over us from Canada, and a nasty head cold I picked up from my stay in the hospital.

I must have sounded like Froggy the Magic Kremlin in class, but we did have a good time. I wore a mask. I’m feeling wobbly.

The portrait above is of Rachel, a newcomer to the Mansion and a bright and exciting addition to the meditation class. After our meditation, she said she felt “a wonderful calm.” She’s coming back next week.

The portrait below is of Alyne Mayer, the assistant activities director of the Mansion. She meets my portrait criteria of impressive people that I like. She is excellent for the residents – attentive, patient, loving, and helpful.

I took the picture because she is impressive to me, and also very nice.

It’s not an easy job, but she does it well. Few young people can relate to older people as easily as she does.

The topic I chose today was joy and how meditation can help the residents find it, as it has helped me.

“There is something about being free of the expectations and deadlines, pressures and responsibilities, schedules and public activities of the middle years,” writes Joan Chittister in her excellent book “The Gift Of Years.”

I agree; getting older puts life in a different light.

There is space now and some time. I told the residents it is possible to focus on people rather than projects or money they haven’t known in years.  I encouraged them to think about it and bring their conclusions to the class next week.

Some of them will remember to do it.

We have to think about how to use the time, I suggested. Joy doesn’t just make itself apparent.

We talked about meditating daily, getting to know ourselves, and figuring out what we want and don’t want. There were a lot of nodding heads in the class. I said this time of life could be the beginning of something, not just the ending.

We lose something; we gain something.

I know the people who attend the class well; I look for nodding eyes and alert looks. I got quite a few this morning. Only one resident fell asleep, and she fell asleep like clockwork 20 minutes into the class. She apologizes when she wakes up, but I always tell her sleep is just another meditation. She must feel calm and safe to go to sleep then.

I urged them to find joy and meaning in the troubles they have as well as their triumphs. My class has no reason to apologize for being older, tired, or forgetful. There is no failing her, no wrong. We are all doing the best we can.

I gave them some exercises I researched to find joy. When you get down about something, I said, think of something that brings you joy and goes see it or do it: a stuffed animal, a chat with a friend, a call to a grandkid, a snake in the kitchen, some music, or a good book.

I’ve trained m myself, I said, to look for joy whenever I see or hear about cruelty or suffering in the world. It’s a balance; like Pavlovian Dog, I associate happiness with discouraging news and one with the other over time.

That idea was a hit. We’ll talk more about it next week. It was another great class, and as groggy as I was, I loved being there very much.

This afternoon, I’m going to meditate and see a chiropractor about my back, which is out of balance from days of lying in a hospital.

The post Mansion Meditation Class. The Search For Joy And Meaning appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

This afternoon, I got some of the sweetest news I could get. I am close to many of the refugee children I’ve met in recent years, but I am perhaps closest, as is Maria, to Tser Nay.

We have helped her stay at Bishop Maginn and Bishop Gibbons, from tuition to school and computing supplies (See what you did.). She has suffered much, worked hard, and is among the sweetest and kindest humans I know.

Nothing she has suffered – and she has suffered greatly –  has embittered or discouraged her. She loves America.

I am proud to call her a friend. Today, at her school’s awards ceremony, Hser Nay cleaned up. Among other things, she was awarded an $80,ooo per year scholarship at St. Bonaventure University, located in Southwestern New York State; It’s the oldest Franciscan University in America, a wonderful place for her to learn and plan her life.

The scholarship is a four-year scholarship. She gets support each year.

Many of you will remember the many pieces I wrote and the many photos I took of her. She helped me train Zinnia as a therapy dog puppy at Bishop Maginn. Zinnia adores her still.

What an outstanding American citizen she is and will be. To the best of my knowledge, she needs no additional help to go to St. Bonaventure, but we will meet with her shortly to see if there is any help we can offer.

It’s the perfect school for her.

I’ve known her for five years, and she has never stopped working hard to improve herself, do her schoolwork, and be a wonderful friend to the other refugee children. Maria and Hser Nay have been working together and have become close friends, and Maria is reaching her to sew and make her clothing.

She is an outstanding student. After years of dislocation, terror, and life in a refugee camp, she has come out the other side in America. This is what our country stands for.

This lifts my heart right up to the roof. Another life was enriched and changed thanks to Sue Silverstein, a donor named Kathleen, and many members of the Army of Good. I am proud.

Sue Silverstein is bursting with joy; I have run out of words of praise for her. She is the very best human; she has many good friends.

People are good, given the chance to be good. Don’t believe the news.  Thanks to all of you who have helped make this dream come true.

Godspeed, Hser Nay.

The post Good News: Hser Nay Hits It Big. She Just Got An $80,000 Scholarship To The College Of Her Choice appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

Every day when the sun is shining, I take a flower walk with my cameras. This one really worked for me, I’ll add that to my calender. Come along and see. The sun is everything when it cones to my flower photography.

Flower Two (One Above)

Flower Three

Flower Four

The post Flower Walk At Dusk, Every Day The Sun Shines. Four Images, Monday, June 5, 2023 appeared first on Bedlam Farm.

I got a surprise in the mail today. Two signed books from Joah Chittister of Santa Barbara, California, a cherished member of the Army Of Good and a fell fan of the great spiritual writer Joan Chittister.

I’ll try to make sense of it. Joah Chittister is a former Prioress in a Monastery and the author of a score of beautiful books about spirituality and, lately, about aging. I’ve read her books to my Mansion Meditation Class residents for nearly a year; she has influenced me and my writing. Last week, I gave every member of the class her book on aging called The Gift Of Years.  They love it as much as I do.

I’m reading from one of her books tomorrow at my meditation class at the Mansion. I bought each of them a copy of the book and gave it to them last week.

I didn’t know it, but Margaret Corkery, who has written to me often, read my blog, bought some of Joan’s books, and loved them; from reading the blog, she knew I cherished her writing. I’ve read chapter after chapter to the Mansion residents and wrote about it on the blog.

When she heard Joan Chittister speaking at the Triniti Baptist Church in  Santa Barbara, she was elated and went to listen to her talk.

The church was packed, and afterward, Joan signed copies of her books, and people could buy one of her latest books, The Time Is Now, a powerful call to compassion and justice. Joan is an influential and prolific writer, and unapologetically “woke,” bless her.

She is 86 now but spent nearly two hours signing every book brought to her.

“I told her a little part of the story of Bedlam Farm, the Army Of Good, The Mansion, and Bishop Gibbons,” Margaret wrote in a letter to me sent with the books. “She was genuinely interested in yours and the Bedlam Farm story.”

Margaret bought two books and asked Joan Chittister to sign them for me, which was a very kind thought.

The first inscription to me read, “Jon, a voice, a word, a keeper of the will of God. For us all, Joan…”

Margaret said that the week before Chittister’s appearance, she was reading “Spiritual Reflections For Every Day” and thought of me. It focused on photography, and she thought of my pictures. She also knows Linda, the very generous and gifted Virginian who sent all those hats and socks to the Mansion last month.

“Things like that remind me of what a gift you are,” she wrote,” and all of us can feel that we are helping others through your efforts. Many thanks to you, Jon, and to Sue Silverstein ad your family of dogs.”

Kindest Regards, Margaret “B” Corkery.

Many thanks to you, Margaret, and thanks for this quite wonderful gift of books and signings.

Here is what  Joan wrote me in “The Time Is Now,” which Margaret went me. It’s going up on my wall for sure.

It says, “To Jon, Whose Heart Resounds with the heart of God, Joan, OSB.

People are good, given the chance. Margaret “B” Corkery has a heart of gold.

The post Small World: Author Joan Chitisster, Me, The Mansion, The “Heart Of God,” The Army Of Good, Margaret “B” Corkery, All Coming Together In A Church In Santa Barbara appeared first on Bedlam Farm.