Martha Schaefer's Blog

At 65 I’ve decided to learn a new sport. Many women I know are searching for that Third Act, The Passion in their lives in this final chapter. If I were prudent, I would take up golf or perhaps pursue hiking, biking, or yoga. I’ve decided Polo is my new passion. Think of hockey, combined with Chess, add a pinch of danger and a helping of thrill at 35 miles per hour on a horse, and you have something that approximates Polo.     Polo is the oldest equestrian discipline dating back to the sixth century in Persia. Originally it ...

I’m living on a permaculture farm in the Southwest corner of New Hampshire. What little I know of agriculture is founded in growing up in rural America, the child of upwardly mobile middle-class parents in the last century. My first home was an old farm at the end if a dirt road. It held all the wonders of childhood in its stone walls, stream full of tangy watercress, and meadows. From there we moved to a new “development” in what was once an apple orchard. We acquired sheep and horses that were stabled at a nearby farm keeping me close ...

  My last post was in December of 2018. So much has changed in daily life, both personally and globally. We are in our sixth week of the pandemic, and though I write daily for myself, I thought I would take a moment to put some words out there in case anyone is still listening. I’ve left the Schoolhouse behind. My latest move three months ago was to the other side of town. I’m living in what I proudly call The Stable at WildSide Farm. This magical property is inhabited by 13 other domesticated beings and a lot of wildlife. ...

I’ve moved into an antique brick schoolhouse. It’s roughly 200 years old which means it has more soul than anywhere I’ve ever lived. The funny thing about moving is the choice of recreating or reinventing your life-style. All the stuff of daily life that you packed up and brought to this new stage is symbolic of other theaters you’ve perform in. I find this object particularly metaphorical. It is a cloisonné bowl of unknown origins that I have never been particularly fond of. It is filled with money; coins and bills from around the world left behind in wallets and ...

So we are coming up on one year since the MOVE; the chapter that ended when Alice and I finally pulled up stakes and left the home in Temple. I must say, the stress level this year is greatly reduced. Instead of living in “tidy-ville” and running our lives around a lack of funds and strangers inspecting every bit of our daily lives, we are settled in Harrisville by the lake. If there’s been a break in the thunder storms but the humidity is still soupy, we venture down to the dock and I plop Alice in the cool water. ...

According to my horoscope I’m coming out of a phase of emotional hibernation. My soul and flesh have needed many moon-cycles to refresh and Life is about to turn around. Don’t fight the changes, see the opportunities. The characters that … Continue reading →

March 21st ’18 Every so often I pull back. I slowly drift away from all writing, the last to go is the Memory Jar I fill throughout the year with quick thoughts and reminders of who, where and how I … Continue reading →

When I was a kid, a snow day from school was better than a scheduled holiday. The surprise of having a whole day with nothing planned, no schedule, no demands other than to stay out of my mom’s hair was … Continue reading →

It has been years since I took a true vacation. Three flights and many hours of strange places found me in the Northwest corner of CA. Humboldt County, The Lost Coast, Avenue of the Giants.  Hanni and B.- are settled … Continue reading →

How trite it sounds but how profound the reality. In this, my first season living by the lake, I notice every change. Today was a day of quiet observation. It started with an awe-inspiring sunrise. Then came a realization;  though … Continue reading →