Treasure Farm
During the summer of my treatment, I watched a lot of TV. It was a good way to fill the time. I am not much of a daytime watcher, but it took my mind off things a bit. One of my favorite networks is NatGeo. I am a rabid animal lover, and they have more shows about animals than you can shake a stick at. There are documentaries and reality shows, and shows about farms, deserts, and jungles, and I watch them all. My faves are the veterinary reality shows like “The Incredible Dr. Pol” and “Heartland Docs,” and Dr. Oakley Yukon Vet.” I’ve seen every season of every show at least three times. I cry at every euthanasia, when animals are sick, and enjoy watching the family events as if they were my own family. It is not difficult to understand why I am so drawn to these shows; they remind me of life on Treasure Farm. Treasure Farm was a big chunk of my life, and a part that, although complicated, was also some of the happiest times of my life.
One of the first exercises in my mindfulness practice was to try to think of times in my life that were happy and what made them happy. As I lay in my hazy pink delirium, I thought of life on the farm. This was an easy mindfulness exercise. Treasure Farm was heaven. My exex, Frank, and I were caretakers on that farm for over 20 years. I got to live with my horses, and I got my first dog as an adult. In reality, the dog was a baby substitute, but he was Jake, the Best Boy. The little cottage we lived in was crooked like the Weasley house, but it had charm and coziness that made it hard to leave. We were happy for a very long time.
There is so much to tell that I want to let the Genie out of the bottle slowly. So, a little bit about the Farm. Treasure Farm is located in Bearsville, NY. Bearsville is one of those little upstate hamlets outside of Woodstock. Woodstock is two hours north of New York City and a haven for artists, actors, and musicians. It is known as the colony of the arts. It is convenient for city dwellers to enjoy the beauty of the Catskill Mountains. The people who own Treasure Farm live in Manhattan and come up on weekends. I met them through a guy I was dating, as he boarded his horses there. One thing led to another, and a few years later, I was living there with my horses.
It is a lovely spot with rolling meadows, a tennis court, and, of course, a swimming pool. The pool was built in the middle of a wetland and spring-fed, negating the need for filters and cleaners. Did I mention how freezing it was? Spring-fed means cooooooold water! We did put chlorine in it, but the constant flow of spring water kept it clean. It was a pain in the you-know-what to get ready every year. The pool was made of metal, taken from the hull of an old battleship. Every year, we had to drain, clean, and paint it. It was 100 feet long by 30 feet wide and 12 feet deep at the deep end. Not only that, but one of the owner’s sisters painted a giant fish on the bottom of it after a psychedelic party in the sixties. This is Woodstock after all. The giant fish added three more colors and took weeks to paint. Treasure Farm is a groovy place, alright. Remembering Treasure Farm helped get me through chemo.