Archive May 2009

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Life Scapes I

There are two postings to this. Life Scapes I. And Life Scapes II. I don't know which one will pop up first, so just to let you know: there are 2. 
I got to church earlier than usual on Sunday. I sat there in peace and quiet contentment.
Soon I heard a family coming down the aisle beside me. They scooted into the pew in front of me.
I looked up from my solitude.
It was a white-haired woman. Her husband, with matching white hair, had taken his seat beside her. They had two grown-up sons with them. One son had on blue jeans. The other had on dress blues.

Life Scapes II

Here's Life Scapes II. Life Scapes I is in a separate post, either before or after this one.

Life Scapes II is altogether different. Light, breezey, airy. No choking up. Maybe they'll be a Life Scapes III too. Who knows? 

I've decided that life just doesn’t get any better than this.
I touted the grandness of ramps in my last post, right? How I wanted to be the Ramps Queen?
Well, the end to ramp season arrived. (Their season is far too short for me.) As I ate the last of my ramps, I savored every last tasty bitey-bite. It will be next year before ramps come back. But, don’t you worry. I’ll be wearing my crown all year long.
But before I had time to even contemplate the end of ramp season, what did I notice? Before my breath could recover from the "ramp breath" of recent weeks, what did I find? Right in my garlic patch?

Ramps Queen

“Ramps Queen”…ah, I wish.
I really do wish there was a “Ramps Queen” title or crown or sash. I’d go for it. I think it would be fun to be in parades and show up at fund-raisers with a tiara of rhinestones and “ramps” on my head. I mean, I’ve heard of Miss Sweet Potato and Miss Vidalia Onion, can’t I be the “Ramps Queen”?
Do you know about them? Ramps?
I hadn't; not until we bought our farm in the Smokies. Our first spring there, someone mentioned the Ramps Festival in a neighboring town. It’s one of those words you’re not quite sure you are hearing correctly….”Sorry, the what festival? Ramp? Well, I guess ramps are handy. There’s wheelchair ramps, exit ramps, boat ramps, car ramps…might was well have a festival for them…”
But these ramps, the ones to celebrate, are plants that grow in the forests of the mountains.

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.