May dreams come true…

A trip to the dump to clear the garage of holiday remnants, then a quick ride through the crispy woods on Night with Alice keeping the pace. I had an early jump on the day, knowing it would be a while before another day off in the holiday season.

I  wrapped the bees and said good night. One or two flew lazily out at the commotion. They were sleepy and slow, allowing me to gently shooed them back into the warm depths of the sweet hive. The chill is lasting longer than the sunlight as the season balances itself out. I hope to have a warm day in January to check on the hives and offer some protein patties.

A stop at Mary and George’s farm.


My favorite story about Mary and George – the first time she laid eyes on him she said, “I’m going to marry that man!” and she did. They have built an idyllic life. I’m sure there are moments of strife and pain, no one is immune to those. Just looking at George’s face after his most recent run-in with a horse and a fence, proves life isn’t always predictable. Yet the joy in every living being on the property is palpable; from the excitement at the prospect of twin grandchildren due at Christmas, to this delightful, curly baby out enjoying the fading sunlight of a November day.


Mary paints their life in glorious oils, many feature George and his teams doing farm chores. Her use of light is striking, but farm life on the hill is filled with light.  I should have asked her permission to reproduce some of her art here. To consider my endorsement might carry any power is amusing, but I hope others will see her work and find similar joy.

This first painting even features my friend Wilson, helping George and his team.

Cordwood_12x16_Oil_Mary_Iselin_Forbush_Brook_Conserved_Property_Marlborough_NH-648x476.3195205_large The_Smoothing_Harrow_12x18.15763724_large

She also paints dazzling fantasy scenes that evoke Russian fairy tales; they are dreamlike and bursting with childhood wonder.


Chill fresh air and sun on my face, A minimum of four layers minimum everywhere else. Winter is coming gently this year, or perhaps I am adapting better with age. I am wrapped in a choir singing ancient Christmas carols, a glowing fire and the thoughts that I wouldn’t change a thing right now.

It would appear dreams do come true…

Mary Iselin

N.B. Please visit Mary’s site if you have a moment,

Other adventures with Mary and George are here:



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