"I didn't know I was a hippy til you started drumming!"

Finally, a post deserving of the "religious experiences on a farm" tag. It's been a whole year since my time with the kibbutzniks at CADP, and I guess I never really explained what was so holy about it. Something about the greenery and children in a rural setting, and wine with ex-military multinationals, and motorbike lessons and putting hands in the dirt with Ariel, and mosquito netting. Last weekend's farm was very, very different. There was scenery and community and beer and a rope bed to sleep on. Contradancing (different from line dancing!) til my feet went numb and my calves gave out. THEN the drumming circle started. My legs could carry me no more but I stayed awake long enough to watch Paige dance over to the table where the potluck had been spread earlier in the evening, fetch a large cauldron-type thing and a wooden spoon and proceed to bang the shit out of it in time with the fellows on bongos, etc, well into the wee hours. She is truly la señora de la hacienda.

The next morning, after what felt like a full night's rest (oddly), I was treated to a farm-fresh breakfast and a tour of the property. Man, the Adirondacks in September are outrageous. There is no other word for the maple trees in full flagrante, mixed in with the still-greens and the rock, and the rolling, low mountains. The 18th century farmhouse and salad plants were pretty too. If it were way easier and less time-consuming to grow food I would ask Paige to teach me how to do it. It is delicious.

Also of note, and this is maybe a little gossipy (sorry!), but I drove up with a mutual friend who happens to be Paige's college bf and they are such good, genuine buds these days. It is awe/jealousy-inspiring. Or affirming of one's faith in humanity. I will call it affirming. That is all.


What else.... so much...tbd