A Bit About the Farm: 3

I grew up in New York, Brooklyn to be exact. My house was "semi-detached," which meant we shared a wall with another house. Our teeny front and back yards were equal parts cement and greenery, and I think all the birds were robins or starlings. And pigeons. There were over 100 children on my street, and across the street from the corner drugstore was a candy store. Next door to the candy store was "Tom's Chinese Hand Laundry." My parents both worked in Manhattan. My idea of an outing in nature was a trip to the park, although even the parks were half cement.

When I first heard John talking about the farm, I envisioned something out of the Wizard of Oz. You know, dry and lots of people in overalls. When I saw the place, I realized I wasn't in Kansas, at least not a la MGM Studios. It was lush, green and both busy and sleepy at the same time. There were people coming in and out, constant small emergencies to be dealt with, and always some animal that needed feeding. But there was also a strong sense of time standing still, of a place removed from other places, where between emergencies and door-slams and feedings, you owed no obligation or explanation to anyone. Of course, by that point, the farm was no longer functioning as intensely as it had in its earlier years. I came to learn there had been much less of the sleepy part back then. But, I saw right away that my husband's childhood and mine had probably more than a little different.

My old neighborhood in Brooklyn, NY. At the bottom right of the picture, you can see part of Marine Park. The visible portion is just about the size of the entire farm. QUite a few of my 100-kid blocks would fit in that space!


The center of the farm today. You can see the stables and the horse ring. The arboretum contains many trees and shrubs from around the world that my father-in-law planted and tended. You can also see some of the trees they planted along the road. They bloom in the spring.

The horse farm is run as a co-op right now. Some of the people in the co-op have had their horses there for 20 years. My mother-in-law and father-in-law both loved to garden, and after he retired, they devoted all their free time--when they weren't traveling--to their gardens. One of my outstanding memories is the almost overwhelming jasminey scent of the Osmanthus fragrans on autumn evenings. It's planted right beside the big front porch. My mother-in-law loves birds, and has always kept peacocks, Guinea Hens, various chickens and such roaming the farm. The peacocks roost in the trees at night and it was their unearthly shrieks, that sound just like "Heeeeeeeelp!" to city ears, that woke me in the middle of my first night there and had me clinging to the bedpost. One time, there was even a pet turkey. Her name was Gertie and she thought she was a dog. If you sat outside, she'd come over and cozy right up next to you. The surprising thing is, she could leave you with a numb foot, just like a big dog.