Y’all, I don’t know why, but this Farmer collects Maggies. An odd thing to collect I know, but I amactually starting to think that it is not necessarily that I am collecting these gals. Maybe, they are just gravitating toward me – like the tides and the moon more so – a gravitational pull.
Sarah Margaret Farmer Yelton (Sister Maggie) is my sister. NOTE: She is not a nun, though I am sure there is a “Sister Maggie” in some convent somewhere. We have the same Mama and Daddy, thus the same gene pool and further, thus, the “sister” title proper; and we share a sibling, Mere Mere (Meredtih). We also shared a childhood on a farm in Hawkinsville and all the fun that entailed. Siblings are automatically close by genetic standards, but my sisters and I are TIGHT!!! I could go on and on about them and our stories too but this sums it up – she’s my sister, “nuff” said!
Maggie Marie Coody Griffin (BFF Maggie) is my BFF. NOTE: Just in case y’all never attended middle school, BFF is the acronym for “Best Friend Forever.” In the age before emoticons, acronyms ruled the school. LYLAS, BFFL and OMG and LOL still are used in everyday texting practices., but BFF stuck with me. We’ve been thick as thieves since we were children, and not only do I count her siblings as friends too, but also her parents and grandparents. I think it is so important to be multigenerational with your friend selection – even better when they’re in the same family!
Two Maggies makes for loads of fun. If you need a photographer for your books, a Maggie can surely fit the bill. If you need a design partner to make show houses and clients’ homes lovely, a Maggie can fill that roster easily. If you need to laugh, cry, tell a joke or story, eat at a favorite restaurant, explore antique malls, play in Cashiers or Bluffton or ATL or anywhere – y’all, I assure you, there is a Maggie for the occasion. There’s an app for that… well, there’s a Maggie for that for me.
A pair is a pair and a threesome becomes a collection. Enter another Maggie.
Maggie Jenkins Lunsford (Perry Maggie) is my Perry Maggie. NOTE: This Maggie resides in Perry, as do I, and thus her geographical nomenclature. Since I am so close to Sister and BFF, The Almighty knew I needed a Maggie locally. I am VERY thankful and grateful that Sister and BFF married not only fine, upstanding Southern gentlemen, but they both married friends of mine. These buddies have been my pals since childhood and college, and I cannot ask for anything better than to have a good friend marry one of your Maggies. The only qualm I have is that these grooms took their brides away from Perrydise – that sounds harsh. These amazing men went to pursue amazing jobs and terrific opportunities home probably could not afford to offer them. Thus, I now have Maggies across Dixieland. But God knows that I still needed a Maggie a la Perrydise.
Perry Maggie and I met at Mistletoe Market. Funny, we had heard of one another for a few years but never officially met. Perry is a small town but somehow, between book tours and projects across the South, I missed meeting Perry Maggie until last year. Instantly, the void of a nonlocal Maggie was filled. I’m sure this too has happened to y’all before upon meeting someone, and Perry Maggie and I instantaneously hit it off. We became great friends the first day we met. Immediately though, I had to begin my Maggie classification and clarification when talking to folks, since nearly any story I tell involves a Maggie.
Growing up and throughout college, most folks would know what Maggie I was referring to in conversation, or if they didn’t, Sister and BFF could easily be interchanged in the story since it more than likely involved an SEC football game, a story about Hawkinsville or Perry, a story about our beloved grandmothers, a story about our beloved Mrs. Mary and Mrs. Susie, a story… y’all this could go on and on… a story or conversation that I tell or hold involves a Maggie. Throwing another Maggie into the lingo started to muddy the waters. Oh well, muddy waters involving Maggies is just fine by me!
Turning the big 30 is a pretty big deal au mon avais. I think for me it was the fact that I remember my parents turning 30, and, thus, when you recall from your childhood your parents turning a certain age, well, honey, that makes you feel the age that much more! I’m a firm believer that any birthday is worthy of a celebration, but your thirtieth should be awesome!
Perry Maggie (although she is originally from Moultrie and Moultrie Maggie has a nice ring to it, Perry Maggie is how I know her) was about to turn thirty, and I wanted to throw her a birthday bash for this milestone. Besides, I do have a pavilion, after all, and it is wonderful for parties – if we don’t use it, then the only thing enjoying it is the tractor! The date was set and the invites were sent. I didn’t even try to keep it a surprise, since I don’t have a good poker face. We run in the same circle in our little town, so the invite list was fun group of folks and friends.
Speaking of friends, our friends at The Perfect Pear catered the event – delicious!!! Pork tenderloin with pineapple and mango salsa, garden veggie pasta salad, crab cakes and of course, some sangria and sweet tea! Even a DJ gave us some tunes to dance the night away. Oh, and what is a birthday party without a cake? My sweet friend Lisa of Lisa Mae Cakes made layer after layer of delectable cake we all devoured! Throw in some DP champagne with Mason jars and it was a real party a la Perrydise!
White hydrangeas, springtime branches, fun colored linens and plates and cocktail attire gave our pavilion some festive flair. Cocktail attire got us gussied up and the crowd looking good! Something this Farmer has come to know – if you’re gonna collect Maggies, you might as well celebrate! From my party pavilion to your celebration, I hope you always find some time to celebrate your friends with friends!