Archive August 2009

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Tea for Two

As a little girl, there was something magical to me about a tea party, even the ones that were around a little children’s table lined with teddy bears and favorite dollies. I wouldn’t say that I was ever a “girly girl”—I migrated more toward dirt and trees than sugar and spice and everything nice. But the exception for me, my journey into the world of ribbon and bows, was the tea party.

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Life long learners

I would like to say that I was a good student and that I excelled in school. But, truth be told, I was not. To this day I am still not one who would thrive in a brick and mortar classroom.
On a recent trip to my hometown, it seemed that every street in the little community held a memory for me—some of the memories good and others not so good. As I sat outside the old school house, I was a little surprised that I wasn’t engulfed in memories. Instead, the only thing that came to mind was a quote that I love by Mark Twain: “I never let my schooling interfere with my education.”

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Gone to the Dogs

There are cat lovers and then there are dog lovers. I am the latter. I love dogs! My dog Abby died two years ago at the age of 14. She was a fun and spunky little miniature schnauzer, and she was all attitude. I adored her and she loved me.
Growing up, my mom had poodles, the little “teacup” breed. Wherever my mom went, so did her poodles. Back then I would never have dreamed that I would be “that kind of gal.” You know, the woman you see driving down the road with a dog in her lap.
Now my son Cole has Drake. Drake is a six-week-old, AKC-registered chocolate lab that Cole hopes will be a hunting partner, even though he’s currently so little that he can barely pick up a sock.

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Be who you are and be that well~

A Farmgirl friend and I were discussing loss of friendships. I haven’t lost a lot of them; as a matter of fact, I can count only one. I am not talking about the kind of friendships that just fall away, or those whose purpose has played out according to the old adage that people come into our lives for “a reason, a season or a lifetime.”

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Darn it anyway

Darn: to mend (a garment, for example) by weaving thread or yarn across a gap or hole.

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Sticks and stones can break your bones but WORDS?????

 
My post last week on letter-writing seemed to hit a nerve. I was thrilled to see that so many felt the same way about such an important topic. Thank you for that.

As I was thinking about all the posts I received, I was reminded of a girlfriend retreat last year. One of the gals brought a cute box for each of us and a pile of adjectives she had taken the time to write out…words like witty, beautiful, funny, loyal, kindhearted, approachable, and selfless. The list goes on.

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The road less traveled.

On a recent trip to Wisconsin I saw one of the most amazing scenes. It was one of those things where I longed to reach for the camera but I knew that out of respect for those involved I just couldn’t do it.

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The Art of Letter Writing

Of all the skills of “days gone by,” I think the lost art of letter writing has to be the hardest to see go. I remember being a young girl, spraying the paper with my favorite perfume and signing it with Xs and Os. And I remember how special I felt when a letter came in the mail, how I would run up to my room and tear it open, anticipating a note just for my eyes.

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Going through the motions

What is it about the nature of being human that allows us to check out mentally? You know what I mean, that way that we can walk through life, just going through the motions, looking alive but not really being alive. When did we buy into the belief system that we aren’t co-creators or writers of our own stories?

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Libbie Zenger in fields of iris

Libbie Zenger,
Our Current Rural Farmgirl,
is a small town Farmgirl who lives in the high-desert Sevier Valley of Central Utah with her husband and two darling (“if I do say so myself...”) little farmboys — as well as 30 ewes, 60 new little lambs, a handful of rams, a lovely milk cow, Evelynn, an old horse, Doc, two dogs, a bunch o’ chickens and two new little kittens. She lives on a 140-year-old farm, in a farmhouse built by her great-great-grandfather, and tries to channel her grandmothers, HD Thoreau and Auntie Mame (and not necessarily in that order!).

“When I found MaryJanesFarm, I found a new sort of sisterhood — one in which hard work, ‘heart’ work and handwork are truly valued, appreciated and shared... not to mention all the great times that farmgirls have!”

Column contents copyright © 2010 Libbie Zenger. All rights reserved.

Little Farmer Girl

Farmgirl
is a condition
of the heart.

Portrait of René Groom

René Groom
Previous Rural Farmgirl,
April 2009 – May 2010
René lives in Washington state’s wine country. She grew up in the dry-land wheat fields of E. Washington, where learning to drive the family truck and tractors, and “snipe hunting,” were rites of passage. She has dirt under her nails and in her veins. In true farmgirl fashion, there is no place on Earth she would rather be than on the farm.