Inner Farm Girl
I grew up in the country. In my “neighborhood” was a beef farm, a pig farm, corn fields, soybean fields, horses…you get the idea. I was in 4-H for ten years. I learned to milk goats and shoot a gun. I won prizes at the county fair and even the state fair.
None of this stopped me from moving to the city as soon as I turned 18. I learned how to parallel park, wear black, carry a planner and cell phone, take public transportation whenever possible, attend the opera, eat curry, and shop at stores that smell strongly of patchouli. My only connection to farms became drinking soy lattes from Starbucks and knowing not to walk to close to the back end of the mounted police at street festivals.
But every once in a while, the country girl takes over. I saw my mother today and for some mysterious reason, this happened. So I dug out my Wranglers and put on a CD of country music. Tonight, I’m channeling the ghost of Melissa Past and hanging out with my inner farm girl.
Come on over. Reba and I are remembering the night the lights went out in Georgia.
November 30th, 2006 at 10:40 pm
I’m only 10, so it might not make a diffrence to you,
but ,I love your entry,it reminds me of missing New Orleans!
December 5th, 2006 at 5:55 pm
Of course it makes a difference! That is what Voxes are for: to connect us to other people. Whatever age they are. I’m glad this resonated with you.