Author Archives: René Groom

Everything Old Is New Again

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]
Whether it is vintage clothing, trailers, or albums, it seems that “everything old is new again.” Recently my oldest son, who is currently serving in Afghanistan, sent my husband a push mower. Not the motored kind, but a rotating-blade push mower. It was the perfect Father’s Day gift, one that showed both the practical side of my Marine and the comedic side. You see, my hubby has never had much success with lawn mowers, and it has become a sort of joke in our family. I am convinced that every mower that my husband has purchased in our 25-year marriage must have been built on a Friday.

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Snapshots of Summer

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]
There is something magical about summer. It seems that there is a mystical rhythm to it that presents itself in the slight breeze, reminding me of those carefree days of childhood. I never desire to go back in time until these moments. But the gentle wind makes me miss the innocence of looking into the garden without knowing how much work they actually are.

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Dance Like No One Is Watching

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]
I love that little mantra, although I wasted much of my life up to this point not living it. Some of my favorite people and personalities are those who seem to do just that: Dance like no one is watching. I find that I am drawn to those people the most, although oftentimes I don’t jump into the dance, but sit on the sidelines and admire them dancing.

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I Am So Grateful

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]

Have you ever had the experience of awakening and just for a moment lying there and thinking of all the reasons you are grateful?

A while back, maybe a year or more now, I decided I was done focusing on all the things that were “wrong” in my life, and that I would greet each day by giving thanks for all the things that were “right.”

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So, What Are We Really Trying to Say?

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]
“Sayings” almost always distract me. They make me question where they came from and how they originated. Some of them make me laugh. Others make me roll my eyes. And others just annoy me.

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How Sweet It Is

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]
While we are on the topic of honey, I just want to put it out there that NOT all honey is equal. I am frustrated with the “business” side of the industry that chooses to market the processed stuff as natural, when in truth there is little left that is natural about it.
Like all living food, heating it to about 117 degrees kills all the enzymes along with many of its health benefits. The USDA and others have made us afraid to eat raw foods, which to me is crazy. And I get particularly nuts when I run into some poor unsuspecting mom who is spending a little more in her already-tight budget for processed honey, thinking she is doing right by her family. I’m not upset at her; I am upset at the machine that markets in a way that deceives her into spending her hard-earned dollars.

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Honey, ah Sugar Sugar

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]
This song by the Archies played loud in my mind as I received my first bee stings of the season. They got me while I was reaching my hand into my beautiful lavender bush. Luckily, I am not allergic to the little guys. Dancing around in pain, I found myself scolding them. “Hey! Don’t you know that I am on your side? I planted bee-friendly plants just like MaryJane, Burt’s Bees and the rest suggested! I even follow the bee project, reading all I can on the plight of you guys. Did you not get the memo?”
While watching my finger swell, I was reminded of the scene from Bee Movie where Adam is lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to honey after stinging the mean lawyer guy. Somehow my anger dissipated at the thought that now I too have an injured bee on hand.

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But, I Don't Want to Be Maxine …

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]
I have a very special place in my heart for my grandma Doris. And while I don’t tell her often enough, the fact that my eyes can well up with tears at the very mention of her name should speak volumes.
I am adopted, and at the age of eight I became a part of her family. I knew her before she became mine, since she taught Missionettes at a local church. The Missionette program was a program that helped to teach young girls the art of being “ladies.” I was a “bus kid,” bussed to church from the wrong side of the tracks. My grandma Doris, Auntie Wanda, Shirley and Harriett all had special strengths – characteristics that I aspired to as a young girl, and admire now as a woman. I was a good student, I think. I was focused, wanting so much to be like these amazing women.

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The Cost of Re-fueling

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]
Last week I was given the most amazing gift – time away camping on the Spokane River. Many times during my mini vacation, I found myself totally mystified that with all the things I had going on in my life, I was still able to just sit and relax. There is something about fresh air and bonfires that lend themselves to relaxation. I caught myself sitting by the fire literally thinking about nothing. I can’t remember the last time that I just sat and pondered air. There, I was content to listen to the water rushing, the talking and laughing, of the fellow campers and the occasional mosquito buzzing around my head. Even with the company of the mosquito, I sat there totally relaxed and happy. I melted into the scene as a bystander.

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Friends ~ From Rags to Riches

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]
I have heard it said, “If you want friends, show yourself friendly.” I am blessed to say that I have never found it particularly hard to make friends. I do, however, feel that I have “realms” of friends. I have those that are acquaintances and those that are more than acquaintances but not best friends. Then there is my “inner circle,” that smaller group of gals that I will let my hair down with. It is with that inner circle of friends that my melancholy side can show, where I don’t have to be “on,” and my nerdy alter ego (who I call LaDonna), seems to feel so comfy that she takes up residence when they are around.

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