I wondering if you are a Fig Fan?
“The proper way to eat a fig, in society,
Is to split it in four, holding it by the stump,
And open it, so that it is a glittering, rosy,
Moist, honied, heavy-petalled four-petalled flower.”
San Gervasio DH Lawrence (1885-1930)
I originally named this post “Fig Jig.” You see, it’s fig season in Georgia, and I love figs.
But somehow, in the midst of spell-check, autocorrect, and clumsy fingers “jig” became “pig.” Ah! I knew instantly that the new name fit perfectly, much better. My Dears, I confess that I am a fig pig, a big fig pig. And yes, I’m known to do a jig.
And to demonstrate that love, I’m doing the fig jig in my red shoes and goofy socks.
“Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary,
How does your garden grow?”
Tell us. How is YOUR garden growing this summer?
Won’t you share with us? Hit up the comment section with “Your name, Your name, Quite your mood, How does your garden grow?” And then tell us about your garden, or lack thereof.
Ok, I’ll start.
“Rebekah, Rebekah, quite frustrated yet for some reason rather perky, how does your garden grow?”
Well, why don’t I just show you my harvest so far?
Hi! Welcome! Come and join me in the swing by the creek. Night is falling, and I’m about to build a fire. I baked tea cakes earlier for you.
What kind of tea woud you like? Or would you prefer coffee? Water? Wine?
I looked out my kitchen window one recent morning and saw a male Red Cardinal in my yard in full “come hither” mode. I didn’t know what I was witnessing at the time, but I did know it was spectacular. I watched him stay in this unusal position on the ground, displaying the plume of his generous red tail feathers.
One thing’s for sure. I’m not going to use the CV-19 word in this post. No way, no how.
Or how’s this: C for Colorful. V for very. And guess what? My Baby turned 19 yesterday. So, Colorful Very 19.
So what are we to do about Colorful Very 19? I think the answer is, “enjoy life even more.” Leave our worries behind. Focus on today. And just go ’round and ’round that ole mulberry bush with a smile on your face.
Because, My Friends, spring is here. And that is happy news for us all. If spring hasn’t reached you yet, just wait. It’s headed your way…
I started writing as the MaryJanesFarm “City Farmgirl” a long time ago. Don’t ask me when. 2006, maybe? 2008?
It’s been a FUN ride. I always enjoy writing my posts and then, the best part, hearing back from you all! And the folks at MaryJanesFarm? Well, you can imagine how inspiring and encouraging it is to work with them. I couldn’t be happier to have the opportunity to share with you here than I am. It’s great.
Recently I had to purge some photos from a photo storage site that I used early on in blogging. I received a notice about their fees increasing, so decided to see what I was storing there. I wound up sitting in front of the computer for hours as I looked at hundreds of photos. I hadn’t seen these since I put them up on the blog years ago.
Doing this turned out to be an emotional experience. It was a weird sentimental journey, a wistful wondering, a deep look into the eyes of me, back then.
Yesterday, as I stood by the grave where my father and I had just buried my big, beautiful, gentle, and kind Cochin Rooster, I considered the chicken journey I have travelled for the last 7 years.
This friendly, engaging, and noisy Rooster was a large part of that experience. He was the epi-center. His name was Mr. Coshie.
Mr. Coshie was one of the ambassadors of my farm.
I started with 17 babies back in the springtime of 2013.
I can’t tell you how proud I am of you (and me) this holiday season.
I’m proud that you (and me) stopped and took a moment to ourselves, that we gathered here.
Me, I’ve got a cup of mulled, spiced Wassail beside me, the only light in the room is from the Christmas tree lights and the burning fire. What about you?
In my very best southern drawl Forest Gump voice (which, My Friends, is pretty darn good), “Lie-ph is lack a waul-k through them woodz.”
There are places that heal. We, as humans, are especially drawn them. They help us (re)connect our mind, heart, and soul to something bigger than ourselves. These places offer us a peace deep within if we allow them to. Sometimes people call them their “holy ground.”
What is your place? Is it a particular spot on earth? A cabin? Or do you go to the mountains, or the ocean, or a cathedral? Or the woods?
“It will never be perfect. Make it work. Accept the imperfections.”
What kind of Farmgirl are you?
You know, I always forget how long I’ve been blogging here at MaryJanesFarm. It feels like home to me, so I don’t really think about how long I’ve lived here.
And, of course,
Time flies when you’re having fun!
But recently I noticed that list of links to my previous posts on the right side and decided to take a look back at June 2009, ten years ago.
I started reading the 2009 post and vividly remembered writing it~~ as if it were yesterday.