Today is THE Day

Today is THE day I shall FINALLY…
I’m building quite a list for this day.
I felt a sense of autumn this morning, just a brief whiff. It is still hot as blazes here, but this morning there it was: an ever-so-brief cool breeze. It visited only for a moment, but long enough to make me a promise: fall is right around the corner.
We have had hot and humid weather for months now. “I’m melting, I’m melting…." Just like the wicked witch. Do you know that I had to switch to water-proof mascara just because of the humidity in this area this summer? Brutal.
And my summer gardening endeavors, as I’ve already lamented, were disappointing.

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I'm Just Saying

Oh yeah, I’ve got them. Doesn’t everybody? Quirky sayings.
“If ifs and buts were candy and nuts we’d all have a Merry Christmas” is one I’ve been repeating for years. Now to be clear, I didn't make that up. I heard it along the way some where and loved it. I've  said it a million times since.Not everyone gets it to start with, and I’ve surely gotten some funny looks when I say it. But somewhere deep within those wacky words is truth, a message.

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Three

"Three." Yes, three. The sad, sad truth. The disappointing answer. Only three! After all the sweat and work.

The question? "How many tomatoes have you gotten out of your garden this year?"

What's your answer? Go ahead. Make me drool. Make me jealous. Tell me about your 'maters. Tell me what varieties you are growing. Tell me how the juice, warm from the sun, drips down your chin. How you never even made it in the house with the first one from the garden. I want to hear every detail of your tomato growing this summer. Tell me your favorite way to eat them and how you'll be canning sauce soon from the abundance. Let me live vicariously through your tomato success. Let me feel what it is like....give me the whole scoop.

 

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Hiking Inn the Woods

For years I've wanted to go to a place called the "Hike Inn." It's a lodge of sorts, perched high atop a mountain in North Georgia. The reason I've wanted to go is the same reason I've never been: the only way to get to the Hike Inn is to hike in. Yes, one must hike through the woods for five "moderate" miles to get there.

I'm all show and no go when it comes to being woodsy or outdoorsy. I read about it and dream about it and think about it, but that's as far as it goes. Hubby is exactly the same way. Except he doesn't do the reading, dreaming or thinking.   

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You've Got A Friend

Yes, I know. You want to hear about the roof. My sweet blogging friends came through! Thank you! What excellent taste you all have! And great advice! I loved reading each and every comment and email, hearing what your thoughts are on it. And we'll talk about the roof in just a minute. But first let's talk about this, Friends.

Friends.

What about you? What kind of friend do you enjoy having? Do you have a large circle? Or a smaller, more intimate group? Are they all women? Or are guys in your immediate circle? Do you talk to your buds every single day?

I've been thinking about this because of the letters, B and F and F.

I don't text. I don't know how to text. I don't care to learn how to text. Really. N4M (not for me).

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Decision, Decision, Decision

UPDATE: I received a total of 117 votes on roof color. THANKS Y'ALL!

The comment/email selected was number 40. I used random.org:

Random Integer Generator

Here are your random numbers:

40

Timestamp: 2010-06-29 20:51:36 UTC

That's you, Laura Lea Laws, so email me with your address for your goody! Use the link over on the right!

I'm actually usually a pretty good decision maker. With personal decisions, I mean. I'm usually pretty good; not great, but good. (Now professionally, I'm a very strong decision maker. Split second, never look back. For some reason, that's easier for me.)

It's true. It sometimes takes me a while to mull things over. To think about it. Consider all the angles. But usually not this long. I don't usually be-labor it the way I have be-labored this one. Why am I so stuck on this? I have no idea. You'd think it was a huge decision. It's really not such a big deal.

Yes, this decision has gotten the best of me. I have spent months obsessing about it. And just now my hubby announced:

 

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What? Me? Contrary?

The other day someone asked me a question that “flew all over me.” It was this: “Why in the world do you bother with a garden?”
Bother? I did not like that choice of word. I just don’t understand it. What kind of question is that? What in the world should we all be “bothering” with, if not a garden?

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Let Freedom Ring

Do you know who that is? On top of our United States Capitol Building?

 It's "Freedom."

And "Freedom" is depicted as a chick. How cool is that? I learned that just the other day.....

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A Blooming Mid-Spring Challenge

Oh yeah....You read it right. “Challenge.” You, me. More on that in a minute.

But first. Thank you so much for your insightful comments on love and marriage. I’m working on that booklet and will include everyone’s words. Yes, even you guys who thought you couldn’t offer any advice…your words were filled with wisdom. I mean, just go back and read them. Full of wisdom. Thank you.

Now about this “mid-spring” challenge I've conjured up.

Well, not yet. Let’s talk about “mid-spring” first, in all its glory, then we’ll get to that “challenge” part. 

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Love and Marriage

"Love and Marriage, Love and Marriage, Go Together Like a Horse and Carriage...." so sang Frank Sinatra.

I believe in love. I believe in marriage. I believe in horses. And I believe in carriages.

I also believe...that for the first time since I started this blog…..I am too tired to spin a yarn. One of my favorite things to do is to come here every other Monday to share with you guys the things that are happenin’ in my corner of the world. Oh, and I have so much to tell this Monday.

But I'm tired. This Monday morning, lawzie me, am I ever tired! Here's why. It all started at 4 o'clock on Friday afternoon.

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Spring Broke

Is it possible for me to love a picture any more than I love this one? I really don't think so. I took it when my daughter blew a triple bubble. I didn't have my reading glasses. And when I downloaded the photos this morning, I couldn't believe it.

There's my magical farm reflected in the bubble....

And so I sang, "....wohoho, it's magic, you know....never believe it's not so..."

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Grandma's Bucket

I love spring.

The crocuses are in bloom...

and the sugar snap peas are just popping their heads up out of the earth....

 

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On Not Being Heady

“Heady” is one of those words we read in literature, but don’t really use.
But I did this morning.  For the first time in my life, I used the word “heady.” I used it in my head anyway. It popped into my head when I woke up and headed downstairs.
I stepped into my kitchen-keeping room and was greeted by the “heady” aroma of sweet spring flowers. Such an intoxicating, strong, happy, invigorating smell. “Heady!” I suddenly knew exactly what the poets mean. And I also knew that “heady” was the ideal, perfect word for these spring blossoms in my house.
As the coffee brewed, the coffee smell overtook the heady sweet flowery one. (The coffee smell, by the way, is not heady; it is something else altogether; a discussion for another day.) As I waited for my first cuppa Joe, I took note of the various blooms around me.
Jars filled with freshly-picked daffodils on the table.

 

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Rebekah Teal
is a "MaryJane Farmgirl" who lives in a large metropolitan area. She is a lawyer who has worked in both criminal defense and prosecution. She has been a judge, a business woman and a stay-at-home mom. In addition to her law degree, she has a Masters of Theological Studies.

"Mustering up the courage to do the things you dream about," she says, "is the essence of being a MaryJane Farmgirl."  Learning to live more organically and closer to nature is Rebekah's current pursuit.  She finds strength and encouragement through MaryJane's writings, life, and products. And MaryJane's Farmgirl Connection provides her a wealth of knowledge from true-blue farmgirls.

Column contents copyright © 2007-2010 Rebekah Teal. All rights reserved.

Being a farmgirl is not
about where you live,
but how you live.