|This is Hori (or maybe Hine), named for the Maori, indigenous people of New Zealand.|
|My bedroom (self portrait in mirror)|
The people are as we would have them, warm, open, honest, raw-boned and chiseled, huge inviting smiles, enthusiastic conversation. I feel a level of acceptance and even love here that is rare even in a world of mine that is peopled with golden personalities.
This morning I awoke--late at 8 a.m.; I don't want to miss a minute--to the flitting presage of Victoria Wallace, a 50-ish woman who teaches piano, is earning a master's degree at a local university in "translations" and who was off to teach piano, but not before sitting for a cup of tea.
|Louise built this from her own lumber.|
Joy Carroll, a young woman from New Zealand who is half Polynesian, is also staying here. She showed up at about 9, having stayed with her boyfriend in the castle where he lives (Sarah McCloy, who we spoke of earlier, also lives there) last night. She was in a hurry to get to her chores and whizzed through. Joy works the farm for room and board.
|Louise and Saba.|
Sonya and I are driving two hours to a spot where she wants to visit in order to do some research for her historical novel.
Yesterday, I could not resist the lure of the photograph this wondrous place offers and while Lou and Sonya went to the grocery store to rustle up some grub, I took the Canon out. Here are some of the photos.
|The farm's trees are spectacular.|
|Louise outside her lovely farmhouse.|