Ode to Abby

Today, I’m feeling grateful for our farmhand Abigail and want to say so right out loud. Known as Abby to her university cohorts, she’s Abigail to me. Abigail responded to a help-wanted ad I placed on Craigs List two summers ago looking for someone to help me run my B&B. Having worked hard to obtain her PhD in math and then secure a professorship at one of our local universities, she bemoaned the fact that she had “next to zero practical knowledge.”

She’s still working here part time during the school year and full time in the summer, and as it turns out, she and I make a darn good team. When needed, she pitch-hits order fulfillment in our food facility, with a smile and a willing attitude. Always. Plus she’s really good at navigating computers and I am anything but.

And when one of my granddaughters, who excels in math, said she was bored in school and needed help beyond what school had to offer, Professor Abigail came to the rescue!

And Abigail was enthusiastically willing to pitch in when I put together a team of helpers to plant native flower plugs in my prairie using an auger. It was hard, hot work, and the days were long.

And then there was that wintery day she was itching to be outside so I lent her my insulated suit and out the door she went to move help move lumber and firewood.

For my b-day, she gifted me a precious rendition of Farmgirl that she painted free hand.

Last summer, she chose our Valley Lutheran church for exchanging vows with her sweetheart. The night before her wedding, her gaggle of girlfriends camped out here in the B&B venues that Abigail fusses over.

Now you know why I’m grateful for Abigail’s friendship and help.