How to Calm a Farmgirl

Maryjane’s mama had to work late last night.  She was getting to that two year old too tired to stay awake hysteria.  So how do you calm a born farmgirl?  Hand her a farming magazine. There was a picture of a child milking a goat that she was enthralled with.  Photos of sheep.  Yesterday at the store she pretended she had sheep there.  She put them to bed, made them medicine, made them go outside, and loaded them into the truck when we left.  I need to get a farm again.  I am missing it so much I can hardly … Continue reading How to Calm a Farmgirl

The Discombobulated Farmer

I can’t seem to wake up at dawn anymore.  I hear a rooster crowing from down the street.  I hear my goat, Isabelle, yelling for food at her new home two blocks away.  I try to push the pit out of my stomach.  The heaviness will not lift.  I turn over and fall into listless sleep.  I find myself falling asleep in the car, crying suddenly, and feeling hopeless.  I guess I am experiencing a bit of depression.  Without a to-do list I feel bored and useless.  For the first time in my life I do not have a job … Continue reading The Discombobulated Farmer

Farmicure (the newest look in fashion)

Back when I was a full time model I always had my nails done in a stylish and versatile French manicure.  My face was covered with foundation to even out my skin tone (freckles) and I always had my hair done.  That seems like a different life ago! It wasn’t that terribly long ago (okay it was a little while ago), I still look pretty close to the same, am the same size, but now I call myself a Grandma, spend time putzing around the farm instead of a runway, cut my nails short to play the guitar, and have … Continue reading Farmicure (the newest look in fashion)

Ebb and Flow of Farm Life

The ebb and flow, the life and death, the frequency changes and seasons all so crisply clear when one lives on a farm. The ducklings do not fail to bring smiles.  Frolicking in their playpen in a casserole dish turned pond. The farm dog lays under freshly mounded soil by the empty bee hive.  Bumble passed away in the night.  The quiet house without his tick-tick-ticking and the sight of him this morning haunts me still.  Dumping the pile of dead bees in the compost.  A weight pulls my heart.  The dead chicken with suspicious slobber on her feathers.  Death … Continue reading Ebb and Flow of Farm Life