I had an interesting year. One of my unchecked boxes on my bucket list, as many of you know, is to be like you, a farmer or rancher! You guys are my heroes!
God knew that…and so this year he gave me a chance to prove myself!
He wrote a poem about the experience…and asked if I would share it with you.
Reluctantly, I agreed……
The Faux Farm Girl
Her Dad was a butcher, her mom was a cook
But when I made Jan
Well, I just stopped to look
Now that just ain’t right
Got some adjusting to do
But I'll make her a farm gal before it's all through
Because I know there's a farmer
Somewhere in her heart.
But the adjustments are major,
Not sure where to start.
I'll trade in her Calvin’s for Carhardt, I will
And boots that kick dirt in the farm fields
The clothes don’t make cowgirls
It's hard work-- no play
But I’ll make her an Aggie come
I'll send her to Yuma where farmers are fine!
There’s plenty of
I’ll make her a Rovey, A Smallhouse, A Kerr.
Or a Dugan, Thelander, a Heiden, for sure!
I’ll teach her to farm and to milk goats, you know?
I’ll give her a mentor like, well, Rhonda Crow!
But…..what HAPPENED….was THIS:
Oh, I brought her to Yuma
To harvest some greens
But her yield—well, amounted to one hill of beans.
I shipped to her Wilcox…and Annie’s great Orchard
Imagine what happened…
Those apples got tortured.
I sent her to see how a farmer survives!
But she asked how they do it without Facebook lives?
She tried driving tractors but got in a jam
You can't drive a John Deere
I sent her to Eloy to learn to pick cotton
As well as expected…the idea was, well rotten.
Poor Tiffany and Rodney….They did what they could
But they shipped her out quickly
As well they should
I sent her to Hickman's
Oh, what a disgrace
‘cuz I’m the one that got egg on my face
I showed her a ranch where the cows
They did roam
But came time for brandin’?
She tried milkin’ everything!
Oh, that was a joy…
All she could milk was a carton of soy
She tried growing chilis and Swiss chard and such
But the whole darn experiment
was just too dang much.
When Julie writes pressers
Can she help me save face?
I don’t want this gal–--to be farming’s disgrace!
Well, Jan sat me down at the end of the Day,
Said, Lord…I can’t do this…d’ya think we can pray?
I wanna be a farm girl and work these great lands.
But I know what you’re thinking…..it’s out of your hands.
But wait, Lord…HOLD ON, HERE!
This COULD be my FATE!
I’ll Grow You Some HEMP
Thanks to SB TEN 98!
So Grosetas and Heidens and Bagnalls and Boelts…
I’ll make sure she
Or your farms or your ranches
Just AIN’T meant to be
My Jan Project’s done with….
She’ll stay on TV!
Editor’s note: Originally recited during the 3 rd Annual FFA Blue & Gold Gala, February 23, D’Atri had so many requests for the poem, Arizona Farm Bureau’s “The Voice” offered to publish her poem. Note to Jan: You are our honorary Arizona Farmer.Join Our Family