farmergirl wannabe

My computer doesn't like that word…farmergirl. But it's sort of my goal/dream for this summer.

I remember the summer I was eight years old. My sister and I spent a few weeks at my great-grandmother's farm in South Georgia (Jaw-jah). It was a neat experience and I am glad we have the memories. It was just the two of us, hanging out with my grandfather everyday and doing what we could to "help" my great-grandmother. I remember her most at the big white sink with sideboards looking out into the chicken pin.



It seemed like she was eternally working at that sink and in that kitchen. Every day, every meal was a smorgasbord of the best country cooking anyone could hope for. And what did I eat? Biscuits and honey. I couldn't get enough. Yum!

That summer I saw my great-grandmother, well into her 80's at that point, fling a chicken to kill. I watched her spend all day plucking and prepping that chicken in the back porch off the kitchen.

My grandfather would take my sister and I out on the tractor. It was blue and white. We would ride perched upon the wheel covers (gasp) and occasionally get to steer.

I remember sleeping in the squeaky, old iron bed laden with hand-stitched quilts and washing my face in the ancient pedestal sink with a little rubber stopper.

We traipsed around the farm checking corn, feeding the horses, and picking wild blackberries. Mostly, I remember the blackberries. I didn't like blackberries but I didn't mind picking them.

That's the kind of summer I want to have. Unglamorous work swirled with a heaping dose of carefree relaxation and homemade food.

Now, only 3 more days until I get to find a way to channel that mentality in the middle of the city with a 17 month old.



What are your summer plans?