The farm and Pino thank Annie, equine helper of the day, Ms. Loup for flying all the way from NYC to help, and Dandyland who came all the way from his magical kingdom in Kentucky ["you're alive!"], and Deborah for sitting under a hot tent and not complaining.
My head is spinning, my heart is full, my feet are worn. The Pie Day was so fabulous, despite the 95 degree day. This photo captures the reality of the day. I know it sounds corny, but the event had an energy about it that was pure "Pino" - warm, honest, and kind.
My head is still digesting it all. The whole weekend was magical, thanks to our absolutely wonderful house guests all the way from Kentucky and NYC - but that is a whole entity of it's own that I won't write about...yet.
Our farm is a living, breathing entity, bringing things and people into it. Apifera Farm is a story book that one steps into and plays a role in. I get to have a recurring role, and the characters evolve around me. I am sort of overwhelmed as I'm typing here - perhaps from too much pie, or heat, but I am busting with love for my farm and my life and my husband and friends I am gathering here. It is as if the farm
is now my skin. I breathe, it breathes.It breathes, I breathe. A chicken dies, a part of me dies. A seed is planted, and a new creative idea coincides. People are drawn into our farm for a reason, and some of those reasons I don't know. It's not necessarily important for me to know the reason. But after this pie event, I know that Apifera has purpose beyond me. I can see Pino's face as the older woman's crumpled up hands petted him, and I can here the story of the woman with MS who came and told me she was just 'taking it all in'...I can see my friend Annie, birth mother to Pino and Lucia, in her hat and apron, arriving with a basket of cherry pies...I can see the little girls in a gaggle on their picnic in the shade, making pictures for Pino of the fairy ships...I can hear the voice of the 87 year old woman telling me about her husband who passed away not long ago, and how they had lived down the road for 50 years...
