Maine brings me sunrise

Each place I've lived in life has offered me different ways of communing with this beautiful planet and universe. In Oregon, it was more about the physical ground, but here in mid coast Maine it is clearly about the sunrise, and sunset. Being on the coast, with the cove right across from us, I have begun to fall in love with sunrise. I guess a better way to put it is I feel like the sunrise is here for me in a way it never has been in my past-it is like I am working with the sunrise somehow. When I was little, I was up at 4am most days according to my mother. As a freelancer, I began to get up later, even 8:30. Martyn gets up at 5:30 and after my riding accident, my sleep changed, and it felt better to walk than lay down for my head so I abruptly started getting up really early. It allows me to get a walk in most days with Muddy. My father used to rise very early before sunrise and always told me it is the best time of day. I am feeling like Maine is working with me on this,

"Get up and look!"

It dawned on me one morning while in bed, seeing the first glimpse of light from the east, that I am seeing the sun rise sooner than anywhere I've lived. There it is, we are on the edge of the States, and get to see sunrise before anyone really. This just has a special feeling for me, and it dawned on me that light is here for me in a way that I must take advantage of.

Last night took these photos. The sunsets are also special here. It's like the ocean air creates something I've never seen before. All nature is beautiful, but the wind here, the light here...it is working into me. We will see how it comes out over time.

Excitement builds for the 501c!

Pino the Puppet is excited. He has been named to the emerging Apifera 501c board as Porta Potty Specialist and Logistics Manager! I'm sure you will hear from him soon.

Our mission:
A non-profit dedicated to bringing animals and elder/special needs people together for mutual healing and wellness. It will also provide a safe haven at its farm for elder/special needs animals [even if it is a hospice case]. 

From crude, out of proportion sketches the new Apifera is emerging. I'm horrible at drawing to scale or very realistically, but this is what I showed Martyn when we began discussing the 501c and how to shape the front of the property to allow for a place for elders/special needs and other guests to come and visit Pino, Opie and others in our care-for mutual joy and healing of heart and mind.

We are also working right now on recreating the once used road out there as a turnaround for safety. The lawyer is in the process of getting out paperwork done, and I hope to be able to start fundraising in a month or 2.

People have asked to donate, but until the date of incorporation, your donation would not be tax deductible. As much as I would like donations right now for feed, I figured I should wait until I can say it is a tax deduction before I start pushing that. If you were to give now, as usual, I send a reward of anything over $30.

The plan is to build a structure where guests and wheelchairs can rest, and Pino and Opie and who ever else is worthy of being polite, can greet and commune with the people. The gardens will have seating, and our private interior garden might be opened up for certain occasions. The Marcella barn will have the loft for workshops-workshops for art/healing, perhaps talks and poetry readings-all with the mission of expanding our arms around elders, special needs and those who need respite and healing. I have lots of ideas for workshops, but first things first.

I'm excited to get official and get the paper work done!

Signs that The Head Troll lingers

It's not that we're unfriendly. it's just that we need out privacy. And it is true that you never know what is behind the big, sliding gate. Some people just need a little encouragement to keep a boundary. If they don't one thing or another will pop out and get 'em.

We are busy recreating our private area of gardens. We are also creating a beautiful front garden-even bigger than the old farm-that people will be able to enjoy from the road or on farm visits. Stay tuned. Apifera is blossoming.

We are a care farm. And I'm meant to be here.

We made a little cubby just for Sir Tripod Goat, a crippled Misfit

To anyone who is about to make a huge move or change, I am here to tell you,

"Wait, listen, ponder, it will be bumpy and windy but there are beautiful vistas that will give you clarity-in time."

I have had a nice shift in the past couple weeks. The weather is spring like now and that does add optimism to ones outlook. But it's other things too. I have come to the decision that I want to focus Apifera as a care farm-a place where animal, land and people come together for beneficial healing. For that reason, this upcoming mid May litter of Eleanor's will be the last. I might have to find a pair of chastity pants for Earnest, but we had this unplanned pregnancy because we had to put up all our fencing when we got here, and Marcella and Earnest-working together like stealth spies-figured out a way to bust into Eleanor's [and Cornelia's] boudoir.

I've loved having the piglets, but I want to focus on The Misfits and helping more animals that need a safe harbor, which is why I was so excited to hook up with the Maine State vet so they can come to us in need when neglect cases come up. Our setup here is different than in Oregon. We actually have more land but less of it is open field, and some is marsh. We had three large barns out West, now have two medium barns [an addition is being planned]. So every inch is crucial.

Anyway, it might seem like nothing has changed. But for me, just saying it out loud to some friends-"You know, I'm ready to move to the next stage and not raise piglets [we already decided not to do any more sheep breeding once here]," it just was such a turning point for me–a reckoning, really.

It is as if moving to Maine opened me up to be able to finally do that. The more intimate space and land here-it was there all along, waiting for me to figure it out,

"We can give her exactly what she needs as a care farm. She'll figure it out."

It's about focus.

And about culling. I had to cull parts of myself, as well as some things from the past.

And when I looked at the last 14 years of Apifera, I realized the thing I feel I am best at-is care taking creatures in need. I can honestly say I'm good at that.

I was driving to the store yesterday, feeling very light and airy even though it was foggy and rainy. I thought that this might be my last run at this-I am 59 and if I'm blessed with good health, and Martyn is too, and enough income to keep going-this might be the last ten or fifteen years of this for me. That's the same amount of time I was at the old Apifera. I thought, do I want to spend it continuing to do things that seem to be more of a weight on me, that take my energy away form holding an old goat, or write about why that old goat helps me, or another person?


Apifera is a care farm. And I am meant to be a care farmer.

{Fundraiser now going on to help the 2017 basic care of the Misfits}

Yea, I guess you can't hide the blues but I'm shining my glasses now

The friends reconnected on a spring day

A good friend sent me a note and said she could sense in some of my posts of the past few weeks there was a tinge of the blues coming through my words. True.

I am so transparent.

It's true. I had the blues, or the blahs, or the stumbles. It sort of crept up on me and was due to a combination of events. Weather in March was a drag after a warm [we thought] late winter and I think that triggered some memories and questioning about where I was, physically. We got hit by surprise taxes-I won't go into details, but I am seeking a new accountant for next year. The latter will be rectified, in time, and it will be okay. But that was made worse because my sales were zilch for March, and Martyn was still not working. When I don't sell, for a month, it effects my confidence. I can't deny it, after 20+ years as a freelancer, no sales makes me question my self in so many ways. I don't need a life coach to tell me why, or how to get out of it, it is just part of the ebb and flow of freelancing.
We were also having some issues with a nearby property and everything just seemed doomed.

BUT! The sun came out, the sheering day lifted me up, Martyn is back to working full time until winter, and I sold some of our wool which made me happy.

I don't like to use my blog as a way to vent, I think long time readers can attest to that. But at the same time, I think it's good to come clean every now and then...we are a tribe of humans forging forth, or trying, day by day. I did a painting once of a little tree, branches limp, leaves gone, stating, "Even trees get sad."

Last night I had a dream-a recurring theme-that I was floating over what was supposed to be our old farm in Oregon. I was thinking, in the dream,

Maybe we can get out of the deal, and stay, but I know this was improbable.

I had a moment like that, a year ago this week, when the first buyer's finances finally fell through, and I wondered if we should just stop, and wait for another time. It would have meant losing a lot of money, some that was paid to haul the horses and was non refundable, deposits on moving vans and the house in Maine we were trying to buy. I remember that moment–it was very physical- and it is always a time to ask,

Is this real, or is this the jitters?

Martyn had already given notice to his clients, we had bought the new trailer to haul the 32 animals...and we forged ahead.

People ask me,

"Are you happy there, in Maine?"

I am happy. We've met so many good people, and Martyn is thrilled with his new landscaping gig. The fiber people have been wonderful and if someone said we had to leave Maine, I would be upset to leave some people, that's how quickly we've attached ourselves to some people. I feel like the me in Maine is starting to form, or reform I should say because parts of me are still here, other parts are waning. A few weeks ago, in my blues, I took a step back, and I pressed the pause button on some things I had been planning to do: I cancelled the bee order, realizing I have enough on my plate and I want to focus on my flock/fiber, and the animals, and creating our gardens. I also put my workshops on hold-or at least I am only offering custom workshops for people that might contact me.

I did this because I realized it's time to "leave the flurry to the masses, and take my time and shine my glasses" [unknown author on that quote]. For once in a long time, I am really listening and waiting for the flow to come to me, instead of throwing myself into the flow and swimming fast.

"Don't mess with Moose," she says.

She doesn't miss much, this dog. She often is sitting just like this when I do nighttime feedings, calm, alert, always happy to see me but also ready to bark at the bird that just flew overhead. I mean, it could have been a flying saucer.

Last night we heard coyotes for the first time. Marcella was calm, but Benedetto, took up his rallying bark. Benedetto has been with the flock in the new barn and fields, Marcella is in charge of the smaller barnyard. Somebody has to keep Moose and Goose in line.

Let loose the monkeys!

It felt a bit like a traveling circus.

"Let loose the monkeys!" I declared, as I opened up two paddocks. The mixture of species is the norm around here and everyone from pig to camelid were thrilled to be set out in larger eating areas.

It's been a lot of work and effort to get the creatures resettled here. When we arrived there was no fencing to speak of, and one small barn with a chicken coop. I think we put up more fencing in three months than we did half our time in Oregon. My main concern is the The White Dogs understand their boundaries and not get out on the road, which to be honest, is a big fear I have here.

But finally, they have some room to roam and patrol. We still have a lot to do, but it was so fun seeing them all out the other day. It allows them to work again, even though Marcella takes guarding seriously no matter where she is or what her charges are. She still has a real fondness for pigs. She has been with Earnest and separate from Eleanor and the piglets, so her day of roaming with the pigs was good for her. And while llamas generally don't like canines, Birdie and The White Dogs are fine with one another.

Eating under a donkey bridge

What could be better than sharing breakfast under an old donkey bridge?

Hay drive! Help if you can!

This year I especially need help monetarily with The Misfits! I am the sole bread winner right now as we transition here in Maine, something I am trying not to overreact to but if you can donate to the fund, I really, really appreciate it. Any donation of $50 or more gets a book. $100 or more gets a book and a Donkey Wisdom journal.

Hay is so important for the animals, and we are finding that hay prices, and availability here in Maine, is very different than the resources we had in Oregon. We have found one local hay person, but the fact is I might have to spend much more for hay than I did in my past life. This year it is especially important we have plenty of hay on hand for our first winter, especially for the elders. I will be needing much more hay than I did in Oregon for The Misfits where I went through 6-8 tons. Many assume that feeding pellet/supplemetal feed [which we do for many here and is important] keeps an animal warm in the cold, but it is actually hay and the chewing process that is as important to create heat. We also have so much to do to make the Misfit area better for drainage. I am not used to wet in the summer! And our land has a lot of marsh on it so we have our work cut out for us, and money ill need to spent for drainage, fill and rock. We are building the new barn as I speak, and have already added a couple acres of pasture, but have much more fencing to do too.

Thank you in advance to all those who help, and to all those who have supported our efforts with The Misfits in the past.

Levels

No gift $10.00 USD Book gift $50.00 USD Book/journal gift $100.00 USD

Am I still worthy for you if I'm not helping animals?

One thing I have been quietly pondering in my shift of the move is my worth and value not only to myself, but to the outside world, and my followers. I began to feel a couple years ago that if I decided to quit adopting old and crippled animals, that I would fall from the graces of many people who follow me.

There are some people who want me to be one thing-an animal 'rescuer'. I've never labeled myself that for many reasons, and I detest being called one. I have never gone on to someones property and taken an animal, nor have I reported anyone or worked with law enforcement on rescue missions. I simply decided animals were welcome on my farm, and the doors began opening, and roosters showed up, you know the story. I am simply open to helping animals, but also want to help people, something i find some animal activists forget-people need help too and too many activists are quick to judge and point fingers when they find a needy animal. It's why I won't work with rescues anymore, one of many reasons. I help as many needy animals as I can, but it is not my only mission in life.

I write about this today because I was thinking of all the former misfits from the old farm. I look back on the list and see how many I helped and how many I buried. I needed a break. But I had this poking in my gut, a voice,

Who will love you now, who will care about your posts if they aren't about the old animals? Go get another elder goat, hurry.

I have not brought on any new elders for some time, since we knew we were moving. And I felt a disconnect with some readers.

It's interesting how we can project our needs on to others. I've been guilty of it, and since being aware of that through my own self exploring over the years, I always attempt...ahem, attempt, I say.... to consider my motives when I find I am especially angry with someone online I don't even know, or the opposite-completely attracted to someone online I don't even know. It has always been more uncomfortable than flattering for me to get love letters from strangers about my work with animals. Most mean well, but I can tell they are seeing one part of me, not all of me. They are attracted to a part of me that fills a need for them. It's the danger of online relationship. Would they still love me if I decided to start...raising corn?

I know the people that know me in real life- some who have come into my life because of my animal work, or reading my blog and then we do become real friends- I know they see me as more than one dimensional.

I do plan to still help Misfits, and take more in. I have to admit I can't have the amount I had at the old Apifera. Not only is it very expensive, it is too much for me emotionally. I operated out of my own pocket, never getting donations of more than $2000 a year [and appreciating every penny] and at $500 a month to care for them-you do the math, I just can't do it. And i want to evolve Apifera here in Maine into a healing place, where I work with animals and people-that's always been my goal. People, so many of them, of us, need healing and love, and compassion and understanding. It's not just animals that need me, people need me too. I need me.

And somewhere out there, is a goat like dear Stevie. He'll find me, in time.

The emergence of the old goat lady

Sophie continues to let me know she is ready for relationship with me. When I first brought Sophie to the farm in Oregon, along with the very crippled and deformed Old Victor, she was shy and preferred to hide behind Victor, or stay out of the mix altogether. She let Victor do the bonding with people. And anyone that knew sweet Victor knew he was very good at sharing himself, especially with that amazing smile. We lost Victor last year to a natural death and he is buried in the former Apifera Pumpkin Patch of Old Souls back west. Before we left, Marcella dug up his grave and brought out some of his clean white bones, displaying them in a tiny row for me to admire. Years ago this probably would have upset me, but Marcella can not be held back, even from the fence that surrounded the cemetery-she smelled dead and went for it. There was some intrigue for me, I have to admit, to pick up his ribs and see if I could somehow put them back together.

But back to Sophie.

After Victor died, I knew Sophie would either blossom, or fade. I've seen it over and over after a mate is lost-in both animals and people. I had only had her I think less than a year, so I thought she might just fade. I had worked hard to get weight on both of them but after such long neglect it proved to be difficult. Sophie slowly became more personable with me, and started venturing out more on her own. She has never buddied up with any of the other goats, probably to protect herself from being knocked over. She has a genetic condition that makes her hind end crippled but still gets around fine. What I found was that it was on our journey East that Sophie seemed to really step outside of her shy self. Perhaps it was the tight quarters, but she just seemed...to expand a bit. I found that Sir Tripod Goat also expanded with Birdie the llama, and this was very pleasing since he was such a loner, only really interacting with me in the past months.

But every day, Sophie seems to look to me, not just for food, but for some scratching' and a time where she can be with me in a corner, leaning her body in to me. I've had other experiences where this change in temperament can be a good-bye, Wild Iris was an example of that. But I don't sense that with Sophie. I think she just knows, for sure now, that I am an ally.

I hope she continues on for some years, but she is going on nine, which isn't horribly old, but considering her years of living without proper food management, it probably took a toll on her body.

I shall let her lean into me until her time comes.

{If you like the work I continue to do with elder Misfits, consider a subscription or donation to help.}

That damn patience thing...and the llama smiles

Our barn set up is very different than the old Apifera. There are things I like about it much better-like having everyone congregated to greet me. And there are things I miss about the old layout-but that will change because we are building another barn which will create more space in other fields too and make the current paddocks less crowded. Right now The White Dogs can't run and it kills me, but they seem pretty happy and are guarding their Misfits.

I think I wrote recently patience is a virtue but one I often lack but as I 'mature' I find I'm getting more patient....usually...kind of...depending on the day and weather conditions. I am excited to be able to have the current Misfits out in the bigger paddock by the current barn-the one you see the donkeys in the photo below- because right now the Misfits are in two really big stalls with turn out. I hope to add some fill in low spots so they can have a mound to climb on. They like mounds.

Fear not-they are just fine and have ample roaming room. But I want them to be able to have more space and grass and some climbing mounds like they had before.

The plan is that once the new barn is built-hopefully by late summer-the donkeys and Boone will have stalls there with turnouts to the fields we are busy fencing. Then, the current barn will be more of a Misfit barn. I will have my workshops in the current barn and it provides perfect access to the animals. The new barn will store hay and equipment and will sit out in the field with its own road. During events, I envision that road becoming the entrance to Apifera.

It's beginning to be drawn in my head-and of course it will evolve as thing gets done and I can see it all.

As usual we are putting lots of time and savings into the farm. I underestimated the fencing we'd need, but its okay, we'll figure it out. The good news is it is very flat. The bad news is there are some marshy spots we hope to work on over time.

I'm also rethinking who we are as a farm. I miss my sheep. And the relationship of being on a small farm connected to both life, and death, and the cycle of birth to death, is significant to me and I would like to continue that. Mobile harvest units are non existent here. I have been talking to a lot of farmers about it. I made a vow not to haul my animals anywhere if we chose to raise a small amount of meat. I am sticking to that right now.

I still envision my life here to be about healing through story, art, workshops-but always connected to animals and Nature. I am excited to get in the thick of all that. But....patience. Damn patience.

So, the barn site will be prepped next week I think. We were disappointed we couldn't hire this great barn company, run by women I might add, who build post and beam barns. We just couldn't afford it so are doing a pole building, but will skin it in old wood so it will tie into the farm here. Martyn and I will be putting up the siding and all interior work, and helping with site prep. The roof will be done by a roofer. And we will have to put in a road there, no small cost. It will all be worth it when I see people driving up to have pie with me and Pino some day.

Want to help? Buy art at the shop or at Sundance. I am the sole income earner right now, perhaps through the year. I appreciate everyone who buys my books and art! Thank you!

Apifera is evolving yet again.

Hits you like the wind

I am a bit off kilter. I know this is a phase. I went through this in Oregon when I moved to the former Apifera from the city. It was jolting. It took me months, even a couple years to find my real voice. I don't think this transition is the same, as I am used to country life, farm, isolation etc and I've been writing a long time and painting and have my inner gig. But, my creative voice is a bit out of sync. I went to sit at my drawing table and my chair is too low so I sit on a bunch of moving pads for now. I left my old ergonomic chair in the old studio. Why? I don't know. I think the final weeks at the old farm were so hard in my heart that I was trying to get out as fast as I could without breaking down, coupled with the limited space in the moving van and I was leaving things behind, I had to, but why that chair- who knows, I did my best. And now, after the excitement and thrill and love of the new farm I have time to reflect on what I left. I underestimated how much I would miss...well, the dead bodies buried there. Sounds odd, I suppose.

But I was wrapped in them, all the creatures I cared for or hospiced, help die, watch die, or found dead. Yes there are spirits and energy that live on but knowing their bodies were all there like a big misfit family, I guess, meant more to me than I knew. On the other hand, it was holding me down.

As I was unpacking stuff I found so many momentos of old friends-Stevie the Kissing Goat, Aldo the Elder, Lofa, so many more, Guinnias, Floyd...Giacomo to name a few. I realized I had pushed that out of me, those goodbyes. I thought I'd said good bye, but I haven't. I suppose maybe they will come to me here in different ways, or in art. You don't need to tell me there will be new animals, and story, and life and death. I know this.

But, I realized that all the wind we’ve been having, really strong wind and it comes off the ocean and it's been gong all night and day-it is very comforting to me–it is a message to stand in that wind, and just get blown up a bit, tossel the raggedy hair clumps even more, let go but acknowledge-it is grieiving I guess. This painting was about wind, with Doris and June, two pigs I left behind with the new owners. I also need to make art again, and...sell it. Perhaps garish to put it at the end of a poignant post, but selling a painting is an acknowledgement for me, and it helps one's creativity pop, and checkbook.

I wondered though, how would I paint the wind today. I might attempt it.

Hughie suffers

Hughie fell prey to vertebrae disk inflammation and we made a visit for the first time in Maine to a vet. I had been through this with the Old One Eyed Pug back in Oregon but he was much older. Hugh is going to be ten and Pugs are prone to this disease as are certain breeds of dogs, often the small ones.

It is so sad to see a sad Pug. Something about their faces just exhibit sheer pain and gloom when they are under the weather. As someone who suffered the greatest pain in my life last year with a sprained back, I know what these ruptures can feel like. The poor fellow cries out in the morning when he is picked up or has to get up so he can be carried down the step. By mid morning after his meds he is doing better. He is on bed rest, for 4-6 weeks, that is really the main thing that is needed. The anti inflamatories and muscle relaxers will help manage his suffering. If it continues with morning crying, I will revisit the vet. She did not want to use steroids, and I know the last pug had a real problem with them. But if he is suffering, we shall see. At least he is getting relief.

Moving to a new state, with this many animals, is always unsettling when you need a vet, especially if someone is suffering. The vet was fine, although it made me miss all my vets I had in Oregon, only because they knew me so well. I am sure in time it will be like that here, I hope.

I guess it comes do to trust, trust in new people, doctors, friends, contractors and service people. You don't really know who to listen to and like a dog, you have to sniff people out, then decide who to trust. It is all part of the discombobulation of a big move...in time, you put the pieces back together of your own infrastructure and things smooth out.

Every Troll yearns to accessorize

As mentioned in a previous post, with a move comes self exploration and a jolt of inspiration to make changes in one's life. When The Head Troll went to town last week, that was a surprise in and of itself to many of you, I'm sure. But I can understand what is going on here.

For twelve years, she was on top of every detail in the old barnyard-presidential elections, deaths and births, world and farm events, Halloween traditions in the pumpkin patch, Christmas Garland extravaganzas...and let's not forget her attempt to have a Summer Stock play.

But I think the move opened something up in The Head Troll, a space just for her. Just as a friend of Apifera noticed that our new Apifera seems 'softer', perhaps too The Head Troll has softened somewhat. While never a bully, she certainly had a head mistress-no nonsense personality.

So when The Head Troll came back from her village outing with a hand bag clutch, embroidered with her initials, I didn't question it. Nobody in the barn snickered either. Like seeing an old school marm dressed up out on the town, I suppose seeing her with a feminine handbag could have brought teasing amongst the Misfits. But it didn't. I think they too accept that she is seeking out somethings in her life that might have been missing....like accessories.

I'm dying to sneak a peak inside her handbag, but that would be wrong on so many levels.

{You can read all the many Head Troll stories going way back to her arrival}

She said it feels like a softer Apifera

Someone I consider a friend to both me and my work and all things Apifera, who has been to the old farm many times, made a succinct comment after I posted photos of our new Maine property. She said,

It feels softer.

This really resonated with me and how I feel things unfolding here. I knew there were many lessons to our move and that I would also come to understand many deeper reasons than I can even understand right now as to why I felt propelled to uproot ourselves and our animals from a place we loved to move across the country. And one of the reasons is just what my friend said,

It is softer here.

Not only is the landscape smoother - I mean smoother in how it makes me feel- it has me acting more smoothly.

Perhaps, I thought as I was doing the usual feedings and chores this week, it is simply that I'm becoming slightly smoother as I age. But it is more than that. I clearly needed a change, a big change, not only to my environment, climate, and address but also to the extremeness of my daily life. The weather in Oregon had become to feel extreme to me as had some of my animal duties. I felt disconnected to people in  a community sense. I felt unrooted to the community. I feel more connected here, as I did in Minneapolis, even though I've been here less than a month. {This is not to say I don't love the friends I left behind, please understand that if you are one of them.}

As we live amongst boxes, rooms that need to be painted, and areas of the house that seek my attention for simple needs-such as a real waste basket in the bathroom instead of a paper bag, I have noticed that I am being remarkably patient [for me]. Patience is not my strong suit. But it is something I am leaning into lately. I learned so much from the near debacle of almost leaving my beloved farm and sheep in the hands of the wrong person-all because I got my wires inside crossed, propelled by my desire to get to Maine fast-that experience is like a canvas I have hung in my memory to remind me to slow down a bit...and listen not only to me, but to muses, elders, guides and earth.

I am here for many reasons. Some of those reasons I know. Others will become clearer as we evolve here, and Apifera herself evolves.

But I do think Apifera is softer. She needed to be to move on to her next chapter.

The flowering of The Head Troll

{Post Script: As some have asked, yes, she arrived home, before dusk as she said she would. However, she came back clutching onto a small handbag, with a shell handle.}

It is not my place to decide how any of The Misfits will evolve in there new environment. Just as I know my life will be stimulated in my new farm, creating new opportunities for expansion, why would it not be the same for the creatures that find themselves in Maine?

The Head Troll is aging, as am I. I sensed even back in Oregon her duties were beginning to feel heavy for her. She spent more time in Boone's pasture, especially after Marcella clearly became the guard of the main barnyard. I didn't feel sadness from her, more of a relief–like an old teacher who decided to go to a part time schedule.

So when I found this note tacked to the barn door this morning, in some ways I was not surprised. In fact, I felt happy for her. Nor does it surprise me she has ventured out to the village on her own, unafraid, to see what ever it is she has in mind-lunch perhaps? As someone who rarely, if ever, went out to lunch at our old farm, I can say Martyn and I enjoyed the luxury of eating out when we first got here two weeks ago. It felt like we were in Italy or Paris being waited on with no dishes to do. We can't afford to eat out much, but we hope to every so often here due to [hopefully] changed financial loads.

So The Head Troll is in town, somewhere. She is smart, I don't fear for her, people are sensible here and i suspect by day's end, there might even be a committee formed by resident village shopkeepers to put up a "WARNING SLOW DOWN TROLL CROSSSING" sign.

What will we become now

The signs from the old farm, many of them, came with us. Some I couldn't bare to leave as they were meaningful on so many levels and can be hung here as our Apifera missions here become clear. Of course it will involve animals, my work with helping them and connecting it all to people. We are happy here. We were happy there too, but we seem to fit in here, to the land, house, barn and the surrounding towns. Everywhere we go we say we have just arrived and we make no pompous statements of what we think we know, we just casually and honestly say,

"We are new here, can you help us?"

and by the end of our time in a small town feed shop in Waldoboro, or a hardware store in Damriscotta, we feel we have learned new things and come one step, one day closer to settling. We have been told we will never be Mainers and that is okay. I understand historical territory, we were not born and bred here, nor were generations of our families. I never considered myself an Oregonian either. I will always be a Minnesotan I think. Maine feels more like an east coast Minnesota to me, whereas Oregon was exotic in many ways and the valley we lived in had the feel of renegade at every turn. Place, a sense of home and being, are deeply rooted in our souls and hearts, from even before our births as our mothers carried us about - a move shakes that all up and lets cream rise to the top.

Martyn looks like a Mainer to me. I suggested he just lie and make up a family history of make believe people so he could be considered a Mainer and I would be his wayward wife of multiple states.

Martyn is no longer The Dirt Farmer. He is simply, Martyn, but said with  a Maine accent [in closed company, we would never want it to sound like we are making fun]. We both decided we just want to be ourselves. The land here is very different than what we had in Yamhill. It is marshy in many areas, and the woods I'm finding is very marshy and I still have not come to find the paths that are supposedly entwined in the woods. Part of field is a low spot, marshy but suitable for a wildlife area I think. That is one of my future goals, to turn the wood area into an education place for bird watching and tree worship. But first things first.

We also live on a somewhat busy road, busy for us anyway. Everything is closer together here and even though we have 30 acres, we feel like we are in a 'village of farms' versus out west it felt like...open west cattle drive areas. The road is paved, and we have very little dust like we did in Oregon. I did bring a lot of the dust from the old farm with me. Seeing the furniture we managed to cram into the truck in daylight was...embarrassing. I did however pause, and think,

There is some of my old Apifera, as I tenderly dusted each item off with bare hand.

Our property is situated nicely though, and we feel rural, and in the winter and as we age, having the road right there will be a God send as it connects us to all the villages we need to get too.

Because of the road, we added more picket fence so our back porch is now enclosed in a lovely private area, and I can walk to the barn 20 feet away. I can see and hear my animals. Martyn even made picket gates.We started planting more garden, and say we will keep it simple-but I know us, we can't stop from making more garden.

Apifera lands and all is well

My studio view from second floor- I especially love this old crabapple- there is another to the left and a vet good eating apple to the right

A photo posted by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on May 21, 2016 at 4:29am PDT

We have landed. We are intact and safe and happy. And there is much to tell you about the trip and our new place here in Maine. Despite a major surprise goodbye on the day we left-I will write about it this week-we had no trouble on the road with the trailer or The Misfits. All the horrible things that could and can happen hauling animals, did not. We nearly ran out of gas in the middle of Wyoming, but chugged into a one tank stop and survived.Other than that, we did just fine. All the worry about The White Dogs barking all night did not happen, the piglets thrived and grew, and Birdie bonded with little Tripod who now shares a space with her in the new barn. No flat tires, no run tickets, no drama. Just lots of road in front of us for five days. I can honestly tell you, I was happy to get past the West, and into the Midwest which felt like home. As we headed into eastern Ohio and then New England, I felt like I was coming home. I hadn't been to Vermont or NY since the eighties when I went to college. The houses and architecture just made me blissful.

In a way, it seems like years ago we set out from the old farm in Yamhill, just one week ago. {Visit Instagram to see photos of the trip} So much has happened, so many sites have been seen, feelings felt-goodbyes, hellos and the wonder of America as we drove for five very long days. Every night we landed at a different barn where I had pre-arranged lodging for us and the Misfits. The Misfits stayed in the trailer and we slept on an air mattress with Huck, Mud, and Hughie on their pads- always in a barn stall. It worked out great as I could throw the dogs in another stall to feed them while I attended The Misfits, and Martyn set up camp. It was a lot of work and by day two our routine was pretty streamlined. We drove about 12 hours a day and the final day we landed in Maine around seven, with a three hour drive to the new place. That final three hours nearly killed us! As we got to the house at ten, we made a wrong turn and in turning around, got the trailer stuck briefly, and a very nice man helped guide us out of what could have been a serious pickle.

When we arrived it was dark, but all the lights were on in the empty house. We found sunflowers at our door step and inside a food basket with goodies to eat, soaps, coffee, breakfast rolls and a bottle of wine. We were dead tired, so tired, but we took time to look around the house and loved it even more than we thought we would. I could hardly keep my eyes open, but we opened the wine and shared it in the empty old house.

We decided it was like right out of a fairy tale, the scene we found ourselves in. It was as if we had wandered a long time in the dark woods, looking for a place to rest, and we found a little elf house inviting us in by the light. That's what it truly felt like.

So for now, I will share some photos, and I have many things to write about.

Martyn has landed. I said to him last night it is as if he was born in this house- he agreed-we were up early to explore in the daylight- oh my, so much to share in coming days (copyright Apifera Farm)

A photo posted by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on May 17, 2016 at 6:45am PDT

Logistics-our next few weeks

We will be travelling across America to Maine and hope to arrive May 16. At that point, I am unsure when I will have access to my main computer and internet. So the blog might be inactive for a couple weeks or more.

The best way to watch our travels is to follow along in Instagram which is the easiest way for me to post on a phone. I'll share those images on my Facebook profile page too.

The shop is on hiatus. If you were to put an order in from one of the book sites, I won't be able to ship for a few weeks, maybe sooner. Please feel free to email me though, I will try to answer any questions for you about art or book orders you want. Sundance still has lots of originals, as does RiverSea Gallery.

Once settled in mid-late May, the blog will be back!