On the Road to friends and high places: Part Three Feasting on Friendship

So fellow travelers, having arrived at the Round House Cafe for good food and fellowship, I was accompanied by an unexpected attendee.

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 When the thread about the potential lunch gathering wound it’s way through the creative group, one of our members rued her inability to attend. Nancy lives in Oklahoma which is a tad too far a distance to travel for lunch, although last fall she did make the journey east to attend the Bedlam Farm Open House.

As consolation for missing lunch, we offered to text her and send photos from the cafe. She gave us her cell phone number, inspite of knowing this now left her vulnerable to who knows what kind of “farmie message madness” beyond our lunch event. Furthermore,  she promised to make herself available and not wander off to rescue dogs or move obstinate hogs, things she is apt to do and then write about quite brilliantly in her blog. So we tagged the event as “Lunch with Nancy,” and thanks to some creative graphic design by Beth, Nancy was indeed able to attend.

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The humorous banter which followed during lunch included messages like “Hey Nancy, so glad you made it.”  “Gosh I have this odd feeling like I am in two places at once.”  “Oh Nancy, what a FLATtering photo of you,  looking great!”  “Why, yes don’t I look nice and thin!”  “Hey Nancy stop dancin on the tables,  Scott will kick us out!”  “Oh dear I am such a rebel aren’t I ?”

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In between messages to and from Nancy, the conversation around the table touched on plans for the upcoming Bedlam Farm open houses, cooking adventures, bee keeping, future cross country RV trips and lots of encouragement for members venturing into new endeavors like publishing books, expanding blog readership, staging future art shows.  It’s evident  folks have had a good time when they inch ever so slowly towards the door even as the cafe staff politely sweep the floor around them. Scott is such a gracious host. We finally dispersed only after the promise of a gathering next month perhaps for a photo expedition.

Originally some of us planned to visit a few more fiber farms, but an unexpected encounter with the Hubbard Hall Dance Mob at Battenkill Books kept us in town past the event’s ending time. It was worth it (you can watch the video here) and  Nancy herself had a few things to say to the videographer who was documenting the historic moment.

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So we decided to stop instead at another point of interest, recommended by Tom, whose masterful poetry is often accompanied by photos of antiques and whose thoughtful paintings are among some of the featured artwork.

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Tom had graciously offered accommodations at his home in West Pawlet, as Kate and I would be staying in the area for the Battenkill Chorus Concert’s Sunday performance.  As a bonus, staying at Tom’s meant I would be able to attend the Sunday morning service at Rupert Methodist Church, something I knew from previous visits would bring some much needed peace to my restless heart.

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More on the spiritual energies of stained glass to come…..

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

On the Road to friends and high places: Part Two Connecting Threads

So fellow travelers, our fiber farm adventure has reached a literal and creative high point at St. Mary’s on-the-hill.

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View from St Mary’s on-the-hill :  Christ the King Retreat center, a haven of peaceful, comfortable accommodations where many of us have stayed during various Bedlam Farm Open House Weekends adventure.

Beth has family ties to this center, so we received a warm welcome and a generous opportunity to take photographs of the antique embroidery exhibit.

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 I should have taken better (or more accurately any notes) notes on the specifics of these pieces.  I do remember these pieces date back to the 19th century and were created by young women attending one of the sister’s schools in New York City. Although I was not raised in the Catholic church, I grew up in a very Catholic neighborhood in New York and felt some connection to these amazing works of art knowing they had graced various churches in the city of my childhood.

The exhibit showed in careful detail the process from concept, to sketches, precise color patterns, then final crafting and included many samples of the practice pieces students were required to complete before working on a designed piece.

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From a distance, some of the stitching looked like it had been hand dyed, the graduation of color was so subtle.  Close-up views revealed the effect was created by many tiny stitches.

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Such patience and attention to detail amazed us, each piece a magnificent example of discipline and focus.

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I found myself wondering what thoughts and feelings filled these young women’s minds as they stitched in meditative silence. It was truly a gift to spend time with these sacred creations.

As we headed back outside and saw a sign for goats we knew this peak experience was not quite over. We walked around to the goat pens by a small barn and were delighted by two weeks old kids romping on hay bales undr the watchful eye of their mothers and one very handsome Dad.

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Momentarily distracted by some distant bird calls, I walked along the fenceline away from the quiet crowd and captured this handsome fellow at work.

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Listening intently for a few moments, I was able to pick out the distinct call of a yellow warbler in the trees lining the hills.  Thinking of the somewhat early timing for this migrant turned my attention the need for us to head over towards Cambridge soon. I looked up and saw Beth walking towards me. Great minds ( and empty stomachs) think alike. We agreed it was time to make the short drive over the hills to hit the Round House for Lunch.

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To be continued…….

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready

 

 

On the Road to friends and high places: Part One Close knit friends

So fellow travelers,  last year I wrote about the best pickles in the world. Two weeks ago I had lunch with the creator of those pickles, my friend Kate,  as well as some other friends and fellow members of the Bedlam Farm Creative group. It was a somewhat impromptu meet-up instigated by my desire to enjoy the wonderful food of Scott Carino’s Round House Cafe in Cambridge New York.

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The Round House is perhaps the only place I would consider driving three and a half hours to eat lunch at. Fortunately, I already had plans which meant passing through Cambridge on my way to hear the Battenkill Chorus’ 20th anniversary concert (more on that later.) A casual comment on a chat page created a thread which quickly took on a life of its own.  This is quite common when we “farmies” as we refer to ourselves get together.  Potluck barbecues, photo walks, late night wine parties, guest performances in church choirs, even unexpected ice skating in parking lots have been known to happen. 

Meanwhile it turned out the Washington County Fiber Arts Tour was also happening that same weekend. Who knew?  Jeff Anderson, photo guru and grateful Dad blogger  that’s who and he posted all the info we needed should we want to commune with local alpacas, goats, sheep and their farmers.

It turned out my friend Beth was up for some communing with fiberous mammals so we arranged to meet at the farm nearest her house and try to catch a few of the tour events before lunch. Beth is a really good photographer and a phenomenal food crafter.

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Beths whimsical Pirate Ship Fruit Salad was the hit of our first potluck gathering.

To reach the first farm by 10am-ish I would have to hit the road quite early, which worked out fine as my daughter had the 5:30am opening shift at work so I’d be up anyways. One of the perks of being on the road so early is catching images like this

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and one of  the benefits of traveling solo is having the freedom to pull over and stop whenever  something catches my attention, although it is not always easy to hold focus as tractor trailers roar by at who know what MPH on the NYS Thruway.   There is a shot of the Mohawk River book marked in my GPS that I am bound and determined to get one of these days.

Arriving within minutes of each other at the first farm, Beth and I started meandering about, cameras in hand. I was distracted by a splash of water fowl landing on the farm’s pond, but caught only this one image. I love the texture created by  spring winds blowing on the pond’s surface.

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Meanwhile Beth was making friends in the gentle, quiet way she has of simply being present.

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Being with Beth brings a zen-like joy to each experience.  She is an observer, a listener and her ability to be fully present in a moment is reflected in the images she captures.

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Photo by Beth Heffern which accompanies her poem “Fishing Tales” on the Creative Group page.

We visited a few farms on the tour, taking in the adept skills of spinners at the wheel, watching an expert shearer at work, marveling at the beautiful pieces created by fiber artisans.

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Wonderful moments. Still,  Beth and I had a higher (literally) goal in mind: to reach the exhibit at St Mary’s on-the-hill in Greenwich and still have time for lunch at the Round House in Cambridge.

To be continued……

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yellow

So fellow travelers, this sudden burst of blooms on my forsythia bush released a wave of memories and feelings which wove themselves into a poem.

 

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A bush breaks free

from Winter’s icy grip

an explosion of yellow

bursting with childhood memories

Joy reclaimed.

 

 

 

A Leap of Faith

So fellow travelers, a friend of mine is getting married today, taking a self described “leap off a ledge” in faith with a phenomenal partner.  I wish them the best of adventures in their years together.

 

Together

From square one to the top of the mountain

You reached this vista together

Pulling each other out of the mire of self denial

At times scouting separate trails

Always to meet again at the crossroads

Building where once anger burned bridges

Taking on treks of discovery in outer and inner worlds

Taming monkeys of the mind and forest

Terrapin movements soothing spirits

Two hearts now joined as One

A daring leap off the Ledge

Into the abyss of Forever

Holding each other

Gliding peacefully under Love’s steady parachute.

For Jennifer and Travis on their wonderful wedding day. May 2, 2015.

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Photo of “Hang Gliders Point” Tinker Falls trail  overlooking Labrador Hollow. Tully, NY

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Morning Prayer

So fellow travelers,  this morning the song birds sang a haiku

 

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Life reaching for Light

Light healing heartache gently

Love is eternal

 

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready

Gifts of Potholders and Poetry

So fellow travelers, listen up:

“We are currently experiencing some heavy turbulence.  The Captain has turned on the seat belt sign.  Please fasten your seat belts and for your comfort and safety we ask that you remain seated for this part of the trip.”

Most of the time, Life does not provide us with a heads up, buckle in announcement.  Turbulence can hit with gut wrenching force.  One day a cherished companion or dear loved one is there, the next they are gone from our lives. One hour there’s a plan in place to manage a situation, maybe even a “b” plan, then a sudden change leaves us scrambling for any plan, a through z, with workable options. One minute your kid drives to work, the next you are grateful that same kid walked away from the fire that destroyed what was your car.

Things can be replaced, lives cannot. This is true.

It is also true some things represent more than a material object.  A handmade pillow, a special bumper sticker,  a GPS which stored favorite birding sites, secret trail heads and go-back-and-get-that-photo-spots. But your kid made it home to collapse in tears while you hugged her and said it will be ok. Because eventually it really will be.

There are no seat belts to secure when the emotional aftermath of life events hit.  We may in fact be standing rather than seated when an angry outburst eviscerates the trust we had in someone close. When fear and grief shake us awake in the darkest hours of the night. When our faith is tested it is easy to believe we are alone.

Until an anonymous friend sends you a one of a kind potholder in the mail,

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The Giving Tree by Maria Wulf

 

or another friend writes a poem which reminds you where truth can be found,

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The desk of poet Tom Atkins

 

or yet another friend kneels in sheep poop to join you on a spontaneous photographic adventure.

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Fellow Shutterbug Farmie Beth Heffern

 

No longer alone, surrounded by friends*

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gathered to have lunch with a guest of honor over 1,400 miles away

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you find yourself breathing joy,

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and remembering no matter how tough the path may be we are on this journey together.

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Walk soft on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

 

*Postscript: For more about our “farmie” gathering at the Round House Cafe read Deb German Young’s post on Finding Community

 

… on a new job with an old man

When a rHoyal visits on the fly

Sunday’s at the Rescue: The Hometown Pack

So fellow travelers, time to pay a visit to the rescue.

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I am often asked why the dog rescue where I volunteer brings dogs in on transport when “so many local dogs” need homes. It took a few years for Helping Hounds to establish strong, working relationships with local shelters and other rescues.  The rescue community can at times become polarized. It takes unique leadership to create a functional network; tentative outreach is easily fractured by misunderstanding. Like any young organization, a new rescue will stumble if it tries to run before learning to walk. HHDR had it’s share of setbacks in the early years. The turning point came a little over two years ago, when new leadership and an experienced director took full charge of operations. Once they established functional systems for intake, health care, adoption applications and basic training needs for both volunteers and dogs the staff knew they had the foundation to create a stable outreach program. When space was available they began to regularly take in dogs from local shelters willing to network with them.

HHDR placed over 1,200 dogs into new homes in 2014, an impressive number for a small, independent, donation driven, volunteer fueled rescue. While a growing number of local dogs are in that number, transport dogs make up the majority of adoptions.  Every dog pulled from high kill shelters and transported to our area saves two lives.  The dogs brought to HHDR immediately make room for other dogs in a shelter somewhere else.

Dogs selected for transport are breeds in high demand ie: small to medium size dogs or popular breeds of larger dogs like labs and retrievers.  Those are the types of dogs first chosen to be adopted out of local shelters.  HHDR rarely transports in adult “bully breed” dogs, since they know there are plenty they can bring in from local shelters.

When the network pulls together, which I am proud to say happens with increasing frequency, it makes an impact. Listen to this statement from Helping Hounds Director Kathy Gilmour:

“We know the hard work being done by those on the front lines of animal rescue and they have our respect and support. We know the heartbreak of saving a life from abuse and neglect, taking a dog off the streets and saving him from starvation and the risks of injury or death only to have to hold them and tell them you are sorry your best wasn’t good enough, no one came for you but we need the kennel for the next one we just saved.

Our partnerships offer an alternative. Transferring them leaves that empty kennel standing ready and we could not be more proud to work side by side with our partners and take just a little bit of the burden off their shoulders and bring a little bit of hope to those who can’t find their way out of the system fast enough.”

It accompanies this post on HHDR’s Facebook page:

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These are the faces of the latest local intakes from the hometown network connection.  Nine local dogs who came to HHDR  from the facility which takes dogs brought in by city dog control.  Eight of them clearly appear to be what are known as “bully” breeds and regardless of whether they are in fact “pit bull” mixes ( “Pit bull” is not an actual breed, it is a term which refers to several terrier breeds including American, Staffordshire and Bull Terriers) the misconceptions about their breeds will weigh against them in the adoption market.

 “Oh we’re not picky about the kind of dog as long as its not a pit bull,” is one of the most common things potential adopters will say to staff and volunteers. I am tempted to tell them about the many “pitties” we have in our family, but I have learned my words are unlikely to breech their mindset. People can meet the sweetest dog, gentle with their children, playful with other dogs and still ask repeatedly if the staff is “sure this dog is not a pit mix.”  Folks, when it comes to rescue dogs, there is nothing “sure” about breed, no matter what appearances indicate.  You want certainty please find yourselves a reputable breeder.  What we do know for sure is the dogs we have on hand are going to make wonderful companions and deserve to be loved as they are.

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Andre, a local sweetheart, who has already found a great new home.

The average time for most dogs as an HHDR resident is less than two weeks.  Notice I said most.  Certain dogs will take longer to find their new families. This is because the staff works on a “best match”  rather than “first pick” model.  Young puppies will not be adopted out to a home where no one is home all day long,  large high energy dogs or nervous small dogs will not go to homes with small children. The staff is particularly careful when adopting out special needs dogs like April pictured in the top right corner of the poster above.

April was found with a collar so deeply embedded it had to be surgically removed. Although the wound around her neck has healed, she can never wear a collar of any kind again.  I’ve had the pleasure of walking April in her jazzy red harness.  She’s a happy, playful girl; you’d never know she was so severely mistreated.

Pearl, the beautiful blue-grey girl in the middle on the left was found living outside, with an untreated eye condition and a misshapen leg which had clearly been broken and left to heal on its own. She has also obviously been very heavily bred. Pearl is not as outgoing as April, but she has responded well to the tender care and kindness of staff and volunteers. While still cautious, she gratefully accepts gentle attention. I sat in her pen the other night as she quietly licked a little peanut butter off my fingers.  Slowly, I moved my other hand to gently rub her head and back.  Eventually she leaned into me, sighing as she let her head rest on my leg. Moments like that are worth ten times the hours I give as a volunteer.

April and Pearl are lucky dogs who have been given a chance at a new life; most city shelters euthanize dogs found in such poor condition, regardless of their temperament.  Those facilities simply do not have access to the resources needed to save those lives.  The transport dogs are lucky too as most of them make it onto the truck just days before their time was up.  Helping Hounds is proud to be a way home for every one of them and I am blessed to have the chance to be a friend along the way.

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Local girl Sweet Pearl meeting a new transport friend. Update Sunday May 3rd  Pearl has found herself a big loving family who promise she will be cherished for the rest of her days.

Walk softly on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

Editorial Note:  Sunday’s at the Rescue is a series of posts about my experiences working with rescue dogs.  It is named for Sunday, a sweet young dog who came through the rescue where I volunteer, stole a piece of my heart (as so many of them do) and got herself adopted into a great home.

Love Lights the Way

So fellow travelers, dramatic images on the drive home from last weekend’s road trip stirred up many emotions about this stage of Life’s journey for my college-bound daughter and me.  This poem flowed from a heart renewed by friendship’s quiet affirmation of Greater Love which enfolds us all.

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The road becomes a silver ribbon

a glimmering thread

winding a path

through valleys cast into deep shadows

by a retreating Sun

Your hands remain steady on the wheel

in the same gentle way

you held your children’s hands

Certain the Love which guides you

while sometimes dim

will continue to Light the Way

and bring you safely Home.

 

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.