Focusing on what I can do...I don't need to know everything about you and vice versa

This is not a political post, far from it, it is more a self healing post. I've been sad about our country for some time....and scared for democracy, to be honest. I wondered if it is wrong to simply turn out all news, all of it...is that selfish, is that the right way to handle all the upsetting [for me anyway] news? I think tuning it all out is irresponsible as a citizen and voter, so I am not choosing that path. I do get my news from online reliable papers, not social media and definitely not Facebook. And I find I'm just passing by certain articles-usually becasue the media, no matter which outlet, likes to rehash something over and over, and it becomes numbing, kind of like the last 4 years. I read it, explore what I need to, and step away...until I might yell at the tv a bit before we watch one of our shows.

But I was thinking that we know way too much about everybody, thanks to social media.

If I knew every thought of every elder I love at Cove's Edge....would that change how I feel? Perhaps. I know many people I enjoy running into in my weekly errands have very different thoughts than I do on many things, but it doesn't matter, because we focus on things we share. For example, at the feed store I have no idea what thoughts or beliefs are in most of their heads, I could assume I guess, but I focus on the fact that I can go in there and they know me and what I do and I can ask for advice on a sick chicken.

I get very depressed about our mother ship more than most of the other madness going on-and that includes important stuff like voter suppression, COVID, congress infighting, women's rights, and more. I am very sad for our Earth and I am not that optimistic, and I have always been an optimist. If we can't get along better than we are in one country, and men continue to rule the world with their main desire being power, I just don't see it changing enough that our beautiful Earth will be helped in time.

Still, I want to help people in my area, and people that are hurting, and animals. That is my plan for emotional survival and health. Just keep making art from my heart, keep writing, keep reaching out if I see someone is down, keep sharing my animals with the elders, keep smiling and being there for them in small ways which to them are big ways...keep my head down in the wind. The local paper had an article from the police departments that are suffering from staff shortages, and they pointed out how many more people are being arrested for road rage and anger disturbances–it makes me even more picky about the people I interact with. I prefer my elders and a handful of people, and my animals.

Because of my age, and because I see elders who must leave their homes or lose their mates, I have never been more aware of what I have. Each night, I really mean this, I look forward to being with Martyn by the fire, talking, sharing, his cooking...falling asleep together and his kiss goodbye every morning at 6:30. It can be gone in an instant, and it often is for people.

I have also taken in, soaked in, life more this year than I think I ever have. My time table is mine more than it has ever been and I've earned it-as many of you out there reading have. I've been a self supporting artist/writer since 1996 and I worked my butt off to get to this spot. I'm blessed to live on my farm, and see the sights I see, like this image of old Luci as I opened the door very early this morning-so regal she was in the sun and crisp air and autumnal colors all around her. I've become stingier with my schedule and rarely -unless I have to -make an appointment before 11. That is not laziness, it is practicality. I do not want to rush with my animals and morning chores which take about 2 hours. Not only to I want to move at a pace that will help me not trip and fall, I want to enjoy them. There are so many ways to fall! You don't think about it much in your younger years. But after the concussion, after aging some, I am very aware of it.

I want to see, like the sun lighting up the tippy top of Pino's mane at sunset.

It's Facetime Friday...the mystery guest today is....

If you follow along you know that we've been doing Facetime Fridays with our elder friends at Cove's Edge.  I started out with just the cats and Bear....but it has evolved into me bringing mystery guests intot he house. Last week was Harry the llama and today Pino the donkey came in. 

The elders just love it, and they agreed today that not knowing who the guest will be is much fun. When the video turned on and I heard them all say, excitedly, "Oh look, it's a donkey!"...well, made my day. I always end my sessions with telling them all not to get too wild and crazy on me...they like that.

Pino was so great, I knew he would be but it has been awhile since I've had him out on his own. His mates all brayed as he left the barn, but he trudged along with me trusting me as always. I was prepared to let him out if he got anxious but he was calm as can be. It was so nice working with him again like old times. They loved him, and his little toes. The cats were very enamored with him too.

Abbey, my contact there, took screen shots of the setup on the other side. It takes a village to pull these off and she and Amy are so great. We had more people today too so maybe the word is getting out.

We were also very impressed Pino didn't poop. We talk a lot about poop...we get a good laugh about poop, poop is funny, as well as informative tot he farmer types.

So who will next week's mystery guest be? I guess that is the mystery. Stay tuned. 

The perfect imperfect tree

"It's a perfect day for tree searching, Pino," I said as I grabbed his halter.



 "Yes, I agree," his donkey ears said. Even though I don't rank days by perfection, they are all worthy of something, Pino thought to himself.



We set off into The Wood. December had been warm, but crisp, leaving the ground perfect for walking without slipping.

 I saw a perfect tree-tall, full at the base and formed well, with no real gaping holes at its side. 



"It's too tall," Mr. Dunn said from behind us, holding his saw. 

It was the first time I had rigged up a makeshift hay twine harness on Pino, nothing fancy, so I didn't want to go very far this first time out.

 Suddenly, Pino stopped. When Pino stops it can be for many reasons, but I could tell by his ears pricking forward, his stopping had meaning to our mission.



"Do you see one?" I asked him. His ears pricked backwards to me, then forward again as he stared at a tree. 

I walked to a little mishapen, crooked tree, one that would never be in a Christmas pagent.



"It's the right height," Mr. Dunn said. “ But it's not very full, should we look a bit longer?"



We started walking again, but Pino didn’t budge. I turned again to look at the little tree, and with a fresh perspective could see the charm of her crooked, sparse branches.

 Pino was quiet, and we both stood looking at the little tree.



"We want this one," I told Mr. Dunn, and we tied the tree to Pino’s harness.

 Donkey hauling Christmas trees is not something one does in a rush. And when we finally made it to the house, I leaned the tree up against the porch, leaving Pino there too while I ran inside to get something. I returned to find Pino staring into the little Misfit tree, his ears pricked towards it, he was clearly deep in conversation with her.



"You are a beautiful little tree," Pino said.



"I'm surprised you picked me. I'm crooked and ill kept," the tree said.



"You are as a perfect as an old Redwood," Pino said. "You had a purpose to hold the birds, and now you will hold the Christmas lights. We will see them from the barn on clear nights. Thank you."



I led Pino back to his mates. When I returned, Mr. Dunn had the tree up and was hanging the lights. I placed white doves at her top and hung glistening fruit on her branches. The little tree spoke clearly to me as I finished,

Thank you for noticing me.

Most of us are all like this little tree, not necessarily the tallest or the prettiest, or the most perfect. We little trees are outshined at any dance, or feel invisible as we just try to our best even if we are surrounded by taller, and louder trees.

We turned on the tree lights and they sparkled inside, and outside to the barn.

And I heard the donkeys bray.

{This is the latest edition of Tails & Tales published monthly in the Lincoln County News.}
 

Paco explains summer solstice and Lucia worries her head might explode

I arrived to do morning chores in the outer barn, and there they were, the three of them just as you see here. I stopped in my tracks and took a photo. They did not move, and as I returned to the inner barn to do my cleanup, I heard Paco,

"The summer solstice, also known as midsummer, occurs when a planet's rotational axis, or geographical pole on either its Northern or its Southern Hemisphere, is most greatly inclined toward the star that it orbits."

"Huh, is that so?" asked Pino.

"I don't like thinking of the world as spinning," said Lucia.

"Im glad there's gravity or I'd be on the moon," said Pino.

"And your head would burst open if you didn't have a space suit on," Boone chimed in from the other paddock.

Lucia started to hamper, she did not feel good about this.

"It's okay, Lucia, nobody is going to explode. it is a day of celebration, It is the longest day the year, and think about it, we can take more dust baths under the blue sky today than any other day in the year!" said Paco.

"That is something to celebrate," said Pino.

And with that, Paco rolled, and rolled, and rolled.

I might strip down later today, after the hay has been delivered, and do the same. No pictures.

{The majority of our 540 bales of hay arrive today! Please consider a donation to help us refill our Apifera piggy bank. Thank you!}

The donkey gets mail

This sentiment captures Pino's effect on people perfectly, I think, don't you. Thank you to the kind person who made this sweet card for Pino [and for the little gift that came with it].

Conversation with Pino and the perfect tree

In honor of the Christmas season, I have a story to share with you, a conversation of sorts, between me, Pino, and a little tree.

"It's a perfect day for tree searching, Pino," I said as I grabbed his halter.

"Yes, I agree," his ears said. Although I don't rank days by perfection, they are all worthy of something, the little donkey thought to himself.

We set off to the side Wood, not far from his barn. December had been quite warm, but crisp, leaving the ground firm to walk on without mush, and no ice to slip on or snow to stomp through.

I found a perfect tree, tall, full at the base and formed well, with no real gaping holes at its side.

"It's too tall," I heard Martyn say from behind. He had come to follow us, with the saw.

We forged on a bit further, keeping close to the paddock and away from the thickest part of the marsh. It was the first time I had rigged up a makeshift hay twine harness on Pino, nothing fancy, so I didn't want to go very far this first time out.

Suddenly, Pino stopped. I waited. When Pino stops it can be for many reasons, but I could tell by his ears pricking forward, his stopping had meaning to our mission at hand.

"Do you see one?" I asked hm. His ears pricked backwards to me, then front and back to alert me to his sighting.

"That one, Pino?" I said, and I walked to a little misshapen, crooked tree. It was not full of bows but sparse. It was a tree that in time, like many in The Wood, would be smothered out by the larger Oak and Maple canopy above it, if its roots didn't rot before that from the years of marsh living.

"It's the right height," Martyn said. It's not very full, should we look a bit longer?"

"We started walking again, but only a few steps, and Pino stopped again. I turned again to look at the little tree, and with my new perspective could see that the other side had a big empty area where no branches were, and the crooked trunk was even more noticeable from that side. From a Christmas tree standard, she really had no good side.

Pino took a few steps to line himself up with me by my side, something he knows to do when he has a halter on. He was quiet, and we both stood looking at the little tree.

"We want this one," I told Martyn.

"Okay," he said, and as he knelt down to saw its base he said, "Positive?"

"Yes," I said.

We tied the makeshift hay twine get up to the tree and to Pino and we started back to the house. It took a bit of time. Donkey hauling Christmas trees in not something one does in a rush. I thanked Pino for his work and leaned the tree up against the porch, while I tied him some feet away so I could run into the house for something. I returned to find Pino staring into the little Misfit tree, his ears pricked towards it, he was clearly deep in conversation with her.

"You are a beautiful little tree," he said.

"I'm surprised you picked me. I'm crooked and ill kept," the tree said.

"You are as a perfect as an old Redwood," Pino said. "You had a purpose to hold the birds, and now you will hold the Christmas lights. We will see them from the barn on clear nights. Thank you."

I led Pino back to his mates, returned to find Martyn had the tree up in the dining room, and I began to hang the first lights. I placed white doves at her top and hung glistening fruit all around them. She is the most Charlie Brown tree I've ever had, but she is perhaps the favorite too. With each year that passes, I recognize the Misfitedness within me, and somehow this sweet little crooked tree symbolized for me that I am just fine, I'm doing okay. I'm worthy of being noticed for the purpose that I am meant to live out, in my own misfit way.

It was dark. I plugged in the lights.

I heard the donkeys bray.

Pino hits the town

Martyn and I took Pino out on a therapy gig down to the nearby village where Opie and I went last week. I've been wanting to get Pino out and finally was able to. He was a hit of course-although they all asked if I brought Opie too.

Pino is a natural at this and was just born this way. I know I've told you all wonderful stories about him, he is almost a mystic in my mind-he senses even more intuitively than many what is going on inside some one's heart. All equines are sensitive to their exterior world, but some just have an additional gene I think-that is my experience in watching animals in the past years. Once a group of women came out to see the farm, I knew none of them but did know one of them had recently suffered a type of stroke and was relearning to speak. Outwardly she looked as healthy as the others. As we got to know one another we were standing in a make shift circle, and I watched out of the corners of my eyes as Pino slowly made his way around the group, sniffing each one, but when he got to the recovering stroke person, he leaned into her a bit.

That is just one of many stories, some others are down right spooky.

So Pino shared himself, methodically and quietly.

Before we came, I had received an email that Ginny had passed this Wednesday. We had just met her a week ago, with our visit with Opie, and I was so very sad she had left us-although she is free of all the earthly entrapment's she needed simply to breathe. I talked to one of the residents today, and Ginny was her friend. It was a brief conversation, but she was very sad for that goodbye. I knew when Opie and I were there that Ginny probably wouldn't be around for a year, but I was anxious to get over there again with Pino. So I was sad that we missed her. I was also told that Opie's visit made her really happy, so I am glad of that. Such simple gestures can leave big impacts on a person's heart. And she left an impact on me as well. You can know someone for all of twenty minutes, but their presence impacts you, their leaving is a void-this is a good thing to remember, isn't it? Make your minutes with others count. I guess if you are genuine, that for me is what I strive for, to be genuine and to be there for the elders we visit for them, not me. Just a day brightener for them.

What is most comical and I tried here to give you a sense of it-when I take Pino out the donkeys understand he is coming back, since it is a routine now, but they do watch as we leave. And when we return, you would have thought we'd been gone for months on an overseas exotic journey. Everyone comes to greet Pino, it is as if they say things in his ears,

"Were there elephants? What was the food like?"

Returning to the barn, the donkeys squeak and bray and Boone hogs the gate.

"PINO! Thank God you are back!"

Birdie makes sure Pino has returned in one piece

"Pino, did you see any elephants where you went?"

A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Oct 21, 2017 at 10:16am PDT

I used to float a lot- how 'bout you? A donkey helps.

A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Oct 18, 2017 at 8:06am PDT

I'm so lucky to have animals all around me as equalizers, grounders. A long time ago, a city person with a couple of dogs and very little garden, I was taught by someone I still consult with-a healer in my world, a wise sage-that for me and other intuitive types, it's important to remember we are here on this realm, now, not to be floating all around. I did a lot of floating, and can remember it clearly as a child. I especially liked to float in the bathtub, and the car when I was in the back seat. It makes sense, the rhythm of those situations are like a white light of sorts.

I would float off, it was very hard to describe to anyone, and I never did. I just told my healer [in my forties] I would repeat in my head when I was floating, "I'm here, I'm here." She taught me that was the collective me reminding myself that I am in fact here, physically, and this is my place right now, on this stage of Earth. Why would I float? We explored it and of course there are many reasons people might go into this trance like state [for lack of a better term]-to avoid the reality of the current moment, to escape the consequences of something...or to just sort of not be trained or have a skill set to stick around and be in the body. I was the latter.

There is nothing wrong with floating, I do it when I paint in many ways, although it is different. I can make myself float, but I can honestly say it doesn't happen much because I am so connected-physically- to the life I live here on the farm. My healer taught me skills to keep myself grounded-touching the earth, gardening-of course years later I would have a small farm-and touching/grooming animals helps daily. She taught me that if I am going to float, I should do something with it.

As I took a few minutes after cleanup out in the equine area to just sit with them, I remembered all my years of floating. It did make me wonder, what 'good' could I do floating? I guess if it calmed me before making art, or calmed me before having a hard discussion...I don't know, I might have to have a healing session and explore that.

But for now, I just thought you all might like to partake in Pino's morning chew. He chews very slowly and deliberately, a donkey trait, but Pino is by far the most grounded little healer of the herd. And I think he is going to visit some elders Saturday-stay tuned.

This is what happens when a one year old goat gets a brainstorm

I heard a lot of hammering, but figured it was the nearby neighbor in his workshop. As the day wore on...something about the sounds just seemed a bit...off.

It has come to light that Opie thought maybe he could help out and get the new barn started. He dragged Pino into it but I'm actually grateful as Pino at least wouldn't let him get Martyn's 12' pruning ladder out. Mrs. Mercey Studly was there too, helping with the nails. Nothing like a 100 year old rat assisting a one year old goat.

Update on the new barn

I got the final bid for the barn and it comes in at $20,000, but that doesn't include the exterior wood and stalls which we will put up ourselves, so probably another $3-5,000.

we are drip by drip getting the job done! Thank you to those of you who have helped. I just sent out a big mailing and if you know someone who love animals and elders, please pass on our fundraiser.

Many companies will also match your donation to certain causes, so please consider asking your company if they might do this.

My goal is to be able to pay the down payment by February which is $6,000. Because of the graciousness of The J & J Stanley Foundation, every dollar donated will be matched up to $10,000-this is so important and wonderful.

Plus, if you donate this month, you might get an original piece of art. But you must donate before 10/31. On that day, The Puppet Will Pull Two Names Out Of His Hat and two donors will get one of my originals.

You can donate to the barn fund at the GoFund site. You can also send checks [let me know they are coming, please] or by going to  the regular funding page on this blog and want it to be for the barn [and possible art] that's OK, I can add your donation to the GoFund site manually [with with your name or anonymously].

It truly takes a village-and I appreciate everyone who has followed me, my art, my farm and animal work all these past 14 years!

Opie learns a lesson about life

Every year, it happens. We must bid farewell to friends. It was little Opie's first Sunflower Farewell and he got verklempt because he recognized them as big giant mothers and sisters, and now they were dying.

These are lessons we must teach the young.

"But Opie," I heard one of the sunflowers call out, "You can carry one of my seeds, and I'll be with you all winter and spring, then put me in the ground, and I'll come back, slightly different, but it will be partially me, just like you are partially your mother."

This made Opie feel better. But he still shed some tears as he sat on Pino's lap with Birdie standing guard-she had a hankie in her right hand, waiting, just like a good mother would.

Pino and Opie Smile Brigade

There were plenty of smiles yesterday at the summer event at Inn Along the Way. I think if that is all that we bring to people-a way to make them smile-well, we've done our job and succeeded at our mission.

It was a fun day of good conversations with many nice people. We both had a wonderful time and furthering conviction we are meant to be here in this place at this time in our life. While I hardly sold a thing, literally I sold one Bird Ball, it was really about getting out there and meeting people in our community {one must look at tit his way-in optimism}. People came to fly kites, view the proposed Inn and see animals- so it was all good.

Opie did great, he is a real charmer. He met babies, a dog, watched the fiddle players, met the big horses and got led around by many people. I think though I will keep his next visit shorter, 4.5 hours was a lot for him and he got a bit worn out I think. But he did just fine.

Pino...well, Pino is Pino. He got hugged, whispered to, drooled on by babies and got to venture into the barn to hear the fiddlers. {You can see a video of that at Instagram}.

I am worn out but in a very good way. I was glad to see people turn out for the Inn. The Inn Along the Way is a retirement village being built in stages on the old Chapman farm-a beautiful place with a huge, wonderful barn. There will be small homes [very modest and well done] for elders to live independently and have a 'community' feel to partake in with gardens and events. The barn will host events and there will also be hospice suites for caregivers to have respite. The Inn will become a cafe and a place for people at the community to gather, and for visitors to stop in and eat and share. The idea is to create a place that does not isolate elders as they age, but rather allows them to be in a community that feels like a real neighborhood.

Opie and Pino are ready

I'll share photos of tomorrow's event at Inn Along the Way, where Pino and Opie will be holding court to share animal heart and healing. It is the Inn's summer celebration to share their mission and goal of creating a retirement community, and Apifera will be there to support them and share our mission of bringing animal and people to together for mutual well being. I'll also have my books and products there too, of course. And Martyn.

Pino and Opie have a gig!

Pino and Opie will accompany me and Martyn...or maybe I should say we will accompany them, to the Summer Social at Inn Along the Way on June 24th, in 741 Main St, Damriscotta.

It might not look like it in this photo, but this small room in the 100 year old barn will be set up in a very Apifera way, with books and art, bird balls, fiber and other goodies for the public. At my side will be Opie. Opie is turning into our pint size ambassador of love and I'm sure will grow his fan base each time he is out with the public. Pino and Martyn will be outside of the room, and Pino will be ready to give hugs and impart silent wisdoms.

There will also be kite flying, wagon rides, Round Top ice cream and the beauty of the farm.

We became familiar with Inn Along the Way last year when Pino made his first visit there. The Inn is located on what was Chapman Farm, in the same family for generations and now it will evolve into a eldercare community  for residents but will also provide respite and encouragement for families and caregivers helping their elders. A non-profit, the Inn will also be turning the old farmhouse into a cafe and place for visitors to rest, gather and stay over and will also be open to the public.

My hopes are to be a regular visitor there, with Pino, Opie and other Apiferians, to share the healing qualities of animals and people coming together. The Inn also reflects values that are important to me and Martyn-working with community to help our elders, but also engage the outside world while still maintaining nature as an integral part to a happy life-no matter your age or condition.

My work with animals is evolving, something I have been writing about as it emerges to take shape. Ever since working one on one with an elderly woman in a facility, weekly for one year with my old pug at my side, I knew I wanted to work more with elders and animals. At the old Apifera, I had open events but here due to our more central location, and my ability now to have a working trailer, I hope to increase therapy visits. I hope to do things on the farm too-but that will shape itself in time.

I hope maybe some of my readers from the Boston area or other states can pop up to Maine!

This room in the 100 year old barn will be transformed into an Apifera shop of books, art and fiber!

Pino starts his therapy career

Pino has a been a healer since I first brought him to the old Apifera some ten years ago. I have shared many of the special encounters visitors have had. I have seen him walk around a group of people, slowly, and parking himself next to the person who came because they were having medical issues. I have witnessed his intuitive healing nature myself over and over, as he will appear out of nowhere to comfort me when I'm sad, or...perhaps calm me when I'm angry. He might need an entire book about him.

Bringing animals and people together, for mutual healing and respect, has always been my goal. And I am especially interested in working with elders, or the damaged, the sad, the lonely, with my animals to give them a lift, to bring some calm to them, a glimmer of home, or empathy. Touching and grooming an animal is a powerful, yet simple thing, and it provides not only bonding with an animal, it is soothing. I remember how my mother would stroke my hair if we sat on the couch together watching television, even as I grew into a woman. I always found it so soothing.

We became aware of Inn Along the Way, when we first arrived in May and instantly liked the founder. The Inn was once a working farm and stayed in the same family for generations. Instead of selling to a large well known retail chain, they chose to sell it to a group of people who had a vision. This group wanted to create a community for the elders who could live in small, simple but functional homes, and also have community, nature, and more of a farm setting. They are very interested in animal therapy. The group raised more than $500,000 to buy the land and buildings, and have an architect who has created the master plans. There is a beautiful old barn I would die for, and an old farm house to be renovated. It is situated near a wonderful little town so has nature, but is convenient. There will also be hospice caretaker cabins, respite cabins they are calling them.

So, we were asked to bring Pino, and my books, to their event yesterday, from 2-6, and we gladly went. They are now in the stages of having to raise more money-this is going to take a village, and lots of work, but I believe they are going to do it, and we are going to help, and Pino is going to help as are many of the Misfits!

The event yesterday was to generate excitement and also educate people about this concept of healthy and humane living for elders. There was old farm equipment that helped press apples into cider, and an old ice cream maker, and lots of harvest-apples, pumping and squash. And Pino met a new role model-large Belgian draft horses arrived. One of them was 2000# to Pino's 150#. It was pretty special.

But what was most rewarding for me and Martyn, was the people we got to meet that are part of the Inn Along the Way- the board members, and some of the family of the original farm and homestead. We have been invited to be part of the evolution of this wonderful project, and Pino and I are on board. I think it is going to blossom and evolve for us in many ways-bringing in elder facilities, working with art and animals, maybe reading days...I have lots of ideas to share with them. In the meantime you can visit their site -and donate if you are inclined. Or maybe you can generate interest for this concept in your area. Europe is so far ahead of us in this regard.

There was a little monkey named Thomas who was enamored with Pino and had a pretty full day of leading Pino around. Not all donkeys would have willingly been led like this, but Pino is such a natural. He knew he was dealing with a tiny one, and just did his job. Thomas was in the midst of potty training, and was very interested in Pino's anatomy, and how he pooped. It was pretty sweet-Pino can be a role model even for bodily functions!

When we got home, we sipped our wine and sat by the fire. I felt like I had connected with some people that I could be comrades with. I felt like Pino and I can make a difference there, and also have a community. I felt like Martyn can be part of it too, in so many ways.

Thomas was related to the original homestead owners.

Pino wore his Heinz Brummel peace sign and Cathy Loup daisies

Pino's new role model

"Hello, I think you are really amazing," Pino said.

Pino got to eat lots of good grass too

Waiting for the public in front of the old barn

Looking out at the property

The little healer

Pino did wonderfully, again, in his therapy mission last night-to stand and let the people touch him, pet him, talk to him, and admire everything about him. Pino is a natural at this. I did feel he was a little out of sorts last night, as was I for some reason. We were both a little lost last night. I noticed he put his head into me a lot, and I talked to him many times in the night. Maybe we both needed each other for some reason. As we stood together at some point looking out at the ocean's bay, salt air thick in the humid night, I wondered if he understood where we were. Of course I've told him, but I wonder if he has a sense of loss too-after all his birthplace and parents still live in Oregon.

I'm being overly dramatic and analytical.

Anyway, we met some great people last night, of all ages from Maine and elsewhere. The best line of the night came from a four year boy, who put his hand on me and waited for me to finish a conversation I was having, and then he very politely asked,

"Is he for sale?"

His older sister chimed in with,

"He only has $3 and he's also saving for a pool."

That made the haul into town worth it. Pino made a whopping $5 in his tip bucket, and I sold...wait for it...one book. I am well aware these events are more about exposure, and long ago I made vow to never do art fairs, because as my painting mentor told me, show your work in venues that are parallel to the price range and customer. People go to outdoor art walks to browse and eat ice-cream on a hot night [several people asked where they could get ice cream], not buy $1400 paintings. So I can say I am not surprised, and I could say to myself you already told yourself this, but one can always hope they sell something or meet a collector. Maybe I did and I don't know it yet. I did get two more senior facility ideas from someone.

The little healer was tired I think. He didn't bray once, versus last month when he brayed several times. I suppose this shows he knew what the gig was all about and was comfortable. But I sensed his tiredness. This morning I went out to feed and he was braying his heart out, I guess all rested, or very ready for his hay.