Martha Stewart, a well-known homemaker, is changing how we think about aging by confidently posing for swimsuit photoshoots in her eighties. At the same time, she happily embraces being a grandmother and enjoys the peaceful life on her farm.
When Martha posed for a swimsuit shoot, it caused quite a stir on social media, with many different opinions shared. But away from the spotlight of Hollywood, she finds joy in being with her grandchildren and appreciates the simple pleasures of farm life.
Martha made headlines in May 2023 when she appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated at 81 years old, showing a new view of aging. The photoshoot highlighted elegance and confidence in later life.
In one photo, she relaxed on a fancy sofa surrounded by lush greenery and stylish decor, showing a sense of calm and glamour. Another image featured her in a chic silver swimsuit and large sunglasses, with a joyful look on her face. In another shot, she wore a bold red dress against a stone background, smiling confidently.
Martha’s Sports Illustrated cover sparked many reactions online, with some people criticizing her looks and the way the photos were presented. One person said, “Grow up…you look absurd,” while another commented on her legs, calling them “chicken legs.” Others joined in, saying things like, “OMG Give it up old woman. I can’t stand her.” Some comments questioned the editing of the photos, with one person saying, “The airbrushing makes her look 30 years old. If she’s so proud of being 81, then show your real face!”
Comments also critiqued her styling, with one user saying, “Pull that press-on wig, Martha!!! Hey, whatever floats her boat!” Others were short and direct, with one saying, “I cannot unsee this,” and another expressing, “Shame on her. Exploiting humans is the opposite of what a cook does.”
Even with the mixed feedback, Martha’s personal life shows she has a strong family bond. She often spends time with her grandchildren, Jude and Truman, who are her daughter Alexis’s kids. Martha enjoys hosting special events for them, including themed birthday parties and holiday meals at her farm.
The farm is a special place for Jude and Truman, where they enjoy picking vegetables and feeding animals. Martha once shared that the kids said a day working on the farm was “perhaps the best day so far.”
Martha’s 152-acre farm in Katonah, New York, known as “Bedford Farm” or “Cantitoe Corners,” has been her home since 2000. She has made it into a retreat with a horse farm, guesthouses, greenhouses, flower gardens, and a chef’s kitchen, blending rustic charm with modern luxury.
The farm’s layout is well-organized, featuring a central farmhouse, trimmed hedges, and stone pathways. This careful design reflects the attention she gave to her first famous home, Turkey Hill. She bought this Connecticut farmhouse in 1973 for $46,000 with her then-husband Andrew, which became the base of her brand.
Over time, she transformed the early 19th-century, three-bedroom house on four acres into a five-bedroom, 6,710-square-foot home. She sold Turkey Hill in 2007 for $6.7 million, making it a symbol of her early success.
Martha’s farm also includes a specially designed greenhouse where she can enjoy fresh produce year-round. Located behind her equipment barn, the mostly glass structure captures sunlight with programmable windows for ventilation and cooling, minimizing the need for artificial heating.
Inside, the greenhouse features 16 wooden garden boxes that promote healthy plant growth by improving drainage and preventing soil compaction. Each box is labeled with watering instructions for easy plant care. Martha grows various cold-hardy vegetables, like root crops and brassicas, which thrive in winter.
She also uses grow lights that mimic natural sunlight, ensuring plants get the light they need for growth. Built-in fans keep air moving, creating an ideal environment for year-round gardening.
Martha’s commitment to her farm and greenhouse shows her love for sustainable practices and fresh, homegrown ingredients. From her famous Turkey Hill home to her carefully tended greenhouse, she has created spaces that reflect her passion for nature and design, along with her belief in purposeful living.
Every part of her property, from the raised garden beds to the greenhouse, shows her hands-on approach and love for beauty and practicality. Through these efforts, Martha inspires others to connect thoughtfully with the land, bringing nourishment and joy throughout the year.
I spotted a recognizable scar on our cleaning lady’s hand, and suddenly, a distressing memory surged back
It was just an ordinary day until I saw a familiar scar on our cleaning lady’s hand. It triggered a flood of painful memories I’d buried deep, bringing back a piece of my past I thought was lost forever. Could it be HER?
I never thought an ordinary scar could change my life, but that’s exactly what happened on a Tuesday afternoon last month.😔
“Ashton, we need to talk about the new hires,” my business partner, Jake, said as he barged into my office.
I looked up from the pile of invoices on my desk, rubbing my tired eyes. “What’s up?”
Jake plopped down in the chair across from me. “It’s Mrs. Rodriguez, the new cleaning lady. The clients can’t stop raving about her. She’s getting all the good reviews and all the big tips. The other cleaners are starting to notice.”
I leaned back in my chair, a small smile playing on my lips. “Isn’t that a good thing? We want our employees to do well.”
“Yeah, but…” Jake hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I’m worried it might cause some tension.”
I shrugged. “As long as everyone’s doing their job, I don’t see the problem. Mrs. Rodriguez is just really good at what she does.”
Jake nodded, but I could see the concern in his eyes. “Just keep an eye on it, okay?”
“Will do,” I replied, turning back to my work. Little did I know that those words would come back to haunt me.
A week later, I was knee-deep in complaints about Mrs. Rodriguez.
“I’m telling you, Ashton, she ruined my carpet!” Mrs. Jennings, one of our long-time clients, screeched over the phone.
I winced, holding the receiver away from my ear. “I understand, Mrs. Jennings. We’ll make it right, I promise.”
As soon as I hung up, my cell phone buzzed with a text from another angry client:
“Your ‘expert’ cleaner RUINED my antique rug!!! It’s been in my family for 3 generations and now it’s DESTROYED! I want compensation NOW or I’m calling my lawyer!!! 😡🤬 #WorstServiceEver”
I groaned, rubbing my temples. This was getting out of hand fast.
“What’s going on?” I muttered to myself.
Jake poked his head into my office. “More complaints?”
I nodded, feeling a headache coming on. “I don’t get it. Mrs. Rodriguez was doing so well, and now suddenly she’s messing up left and right?”
Jake’s expression darkened. “Maybe she’s not as good as we thought.”
I shook my head. “No, something’s not right here. Mrs. Rodriguez is too professional for this.”
“What are you thinking?” Jake asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“I’m thinking we need to do some investigating.”
The next day, I installed hidden cameras in our supply room. It felt wrong, like I was betraying my employees’ trust, but I needed answers.
“Are you sure about this?” Jake asked as we finished setting up the last camera.
I sighed, wiping my hands on my jeans. “No, but what choice do we have? We need to know what’s really going on. Mrs. Rodriguez is a seasoned cleaning lady, and she can’t be messing up. We must be missing something.”
Jake nodded, his face grim. “I hope you’re wrong about this, Ashton.”
“Me too, buddy.”
As we left the supply room, I had a premonition that something wasn’t right.
Three days later, I sat in my office, staring at my computer screen in disbelief. The footage from the hidden cameras played before me, showing three of our cleaners — Sandra, Alice, and Maria — tampering with Mrs. Rodriguez’s cleaning supplies.
“I can’t believe this,” I muttered, my hands clenched into fists.
Jake leaned over my shoulder, his face pale. “Holy—! They’ve been sabotaging her this whole time?”
I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach. “We need to confront them. All of them, including Mrs. Rodriguez. She deserves to know what’s been happening.”
“I’ll call them in for a meeting. Tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, my mind racing. “Tomorrow morning.”
As Jake left the office, I couldn’t help but wonder how I would handle this mess.
The next morning, I paced my office, waiting for everyone to arrive. Sandra, Alice, and Maria filed in first, looking nervous. Mrs. Rodriguez came in last, confused yet composed.
“Thank you all for coming,” I began. “We need to discuss something important.”
As Mrs. Rodriguez took off her jacket, I froze. There, on her right forearm, was a scar. A red crescent-shaped scar that I’d recognize anywhere.
Memories — painful ones — came flooding back.
Suddenly, I was five years old again, huddled on a doorstep, cold and hungry.
And there was Mrs. Rodriguez, though I didn’t know her name then, wrapping me in a warm blanket, her kind eyes filled with concern.
“No, could it be HER?” I mumbled, tears brimming in my eyes.
“Mrs. Rodriguez,” I slowly approached her. “Did you… did you live on Maple Street about 30 years ago?”
She looked startled, her eyes widening. “Yes, I did. How did you know that?”
I took a deep breath, feeling tears prick my eyes. “Because you saved my life!”
The room fell silent as Mrs. Rodriguez stared at me, recognition slowly dawning on her face.
“Billy?” she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Little Billy?”
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
Mrs. Rodriguez rushed forward, enveloping me in a hug that smelled like lemon cleaner and home.
“Oh, my sweet boy,” she cried. “I’ve thought about you every day since then.”
I hugged her back, tears welling up in my eyes. For a moment, I felt like the scared little boy who had been abandoned by his parents. But this time, I was safe, cradled in the warm embrace of the woman who had rescued me from darkness.
“I never got to thank you, Mrs. Rodriguez. You changed my life that day.”
She pulled back, cupping my face in her hands. “I’m just so glad you’re okay. When I moved away, I always wondered what happened to you.”
I smiled through my tears. “I got adopted by a loving family. I have a wonderful life now. I’m running a successful cleaning business, married with three wonderful kids. It’s… it’s all thanks to you.”
Mrs. Rodriguez beamed, her eyes shining. “That’s all I ever wanted for you, Billy.”
“It’s Ashton now,” I said softly. “But I never forgot about you.”
A throat clearing behind us brought me back to reality. I turned to see Sandra, Alice, and Maria shifting uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at us.
My earlier anger came rushing back. “Do you three have any idea who this woman is?” I demanded.
They shook their heads, looking terrified.
“This woman saved my life when I was a child,” I said, my arm still around Mrs. Rodriguez’s shoulders. “And you’ve been trying to ruin her career because you were JEALOUS?”
Alice spoke up, her voice trembling. “We didn’t know… we just thought…”
“You thought what? That sabotaging her work would make you look better? That destroying her reputation would somehow improve yours?”
Mrs. Rodriguez put a hand on my arm. “Ashton, please. I don’t want any trouble.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “No, Mrs. Rodriguez. You don’t deserve this. None of this is your fault.”
I turned back to the three women, who looked like they wanted the floor to swallow them whole.
“You’re all FIRED! I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior in my company. Pack your things and leave. Now.”
They didn’t argue as they quietly filed out of the office, leaving Mrs. Rodriguez and me alone.
She sighed, looking troubled. “Ashton, I feel terrible. I didn’t want anyone to lose their jobs because of me.”
I shook my head, taking her fragile hands in mine. “This isn’t because of you. It’s because of their actions. You did nothing wrong.”
Mrs. Rodriguez smiled sadly. “I just wanted to do my best work. I never meant to make anyone jealous.”
“And that’s exactly why you’re so good at what you do,” I said, gently squeezing her hands. “You care about doing a good job, not about competing with others.”
She nodded, then looked at me curiously. “So, you own this company now?! My little Billy, all grown up and successful.”
I laughed, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You gave me a chance at a better life.”
Over the next few weeks, things at the company settled into a new rhythm. Mrs. Rodriguez became our lead trainer, teaching new hires the importance of integrity and hard work.
One evening, as we were closing up the office, she turned to me with a twinkle in her eye. “You know, Ashton, I always knew you’d do great things.”
I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”
She smiled, that same warm smile I remembered from thirty years ago. “Because even as a little boy, you had a big heart. And now look at you, running a successful business, treating your employees with respect.”
I felt my cheeks flush with pride. “I learned from the best!”
Mrs. Rodriguez patted my cheek affectionately. “We both did, my son. We both did.”
As we walked out of the office together, I realized that sometimes, life has a funny way of coming full circle. Mrs. Rodriguez had saved me all those years ago, and now, in a small way, I had also saved her.
From that day on, she was more than just an employee to me. She was family. And every time I saw that scar on her arm, I was reminded that sometimes, our deepest wounds can lead us to our greatest blessings.
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