Confessions of a farmchick- foreword

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I will begin with this confession:

whatever I have done in the course

of my life, whether it be good or evil,

has been done freely; I am a free agent.

Giacomo Casanova

 

 

 

     

 

      This is not just another book with a beginning, a boring middle and an

               end….it is something quite different; a blog book, with pages and chapters

                being added as time ticks on. Sounds like it might be interesting?  Then

                immerse yourself in the wonderful world of farm life and cow dung…if you

                dare…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Foreword:

These are the scandalous confessions of a newlywed, newly acclimatised farm-chick named….well let’s call her Jane… a perfectly inane name which will hopefully never be followed by Doe. She hung up her concrete jungle red, polka dot Jimmy Choo’s for pink gumboots and Victorinox knives on key chains and lived happily ever after….SO NOT TRUE! Fairy tales are a misconception.

The drama that is her life unfolded on a farm somewhere in South Africa (GPS co-ordinates unknown). The town is but a dot on a map and if you blink you would invariably miss the exit ramp. However, if you do, by chance, find out where she lives, you may regret it and certain men dressed in black might be forced to erase your memories. Tread carefully you have received due warning.

She did not exactly detest being a newlywed; in fact she gladly gave up the “single” status on her favourite social network for “married”, changed her surname on her identity document with a smile, and even changed her Facebook name to include all 5 of her husband’s names.

It was the adaptation from a single city girl to being the wife of a farmer that threw her. She was unpopular with the in-laws (who looked like the animated figures of a history book regarding the Voortrekker era), even before she married their son, as well as the rest of the nosy community where news grew tails and legs and claws and ran with lightning speed to drown themselves in the grapevine after which they exploded into a myriad different ending stories. It would make anyone lose their edge and Jane was not immune to the process.

Before we lose ourselves in the convoluted confessions however, we need to go back, right to the very moment when the fairytale started……..

Sit tight, hold on to your hat and enjoy the ride!

farmchick2

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