1. Fifteen years ago today, this blog was born. It was the summer of 2008, just before the U.S. economy crashed and Obama was first elected. Mamma Mia! was in theaters, Instagram was still two years away, and my kids were 6, 12, 16.
A different time.
2. Is blog even a word anymore? These days it’s all Instagram and TikTok and Twitter is out and Threads is in. People don’t write blogs; they write newsletters. Which, to me, is pretty much a blog post that shows up in someone’s inbox—but they live elsewhere, on Substack’s app or Mailchimp’s website.
I’ve started calling my blog updates a newsletter because people know what that means.
3. In 2008, blogs were a way of finding your tribe online. Facebook Groups didn’t even exist until 2010. What I miss most about blogs is the comments section. Real conversations happened there. In the Wonder Farm comments I got to know readers and often we had long, back-and-forth discussions. I’ve met many of you in real life. On a few posts there were more than 100 comments. A typical thing for popular bloggers, but to me those posts felt like parties. It really was a party, on Wonder Farm’s fifth birthday. And again, on its tenth.
4. My most recent post got zero comments. Times have changed; I get it. We’re all skipping around to different platforms, tapping hearts, clicking emojis, maybe writing a sentence if the creator is lucky. Who has time to read blog posts, leave comments that require stillness and thought? Most of the Substack newsletters I subscribe to, even ones with subscribers in the tens of thousands, often only get a handful of comments.
5. Still, to be honest, zero comments broke my heart a little. Made me feel lonely, miss that other time. Made me feel like maybe I’m wasting my time.
But after fifteen years, how can I quit now?
6. And maybe I don’t get it. Maybe it isn’t just that times have changed. Maybe it’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me. My publishing guru Leigh Stein always says that you need to provide content that’s valuable to your readers. Back when I was posting on child-led learning and writing with kids: that was easy. But my 6, 12, and 16-year-old grew up, moved out into the world; it got harder. I remember struggling with this before, writing a post titled I Want to Offer You Something Here. I looked it up in my archives—that post appeared almost ten years ago! In it, I offered lots of possibilities for future posts, asked what readers wanted. Blog series? Q & As? Teleconferences? (Teleconferences! Long word—we had no idea how it would get truncated to zoom. So much we didn’t know, then.)
Commenters showed up, answered in full paragraphs. (They really liked the idea of teleconferences.)
7. A handful of commenters indulged me, supported my idea of writing “personal essay-style posts.” I wrote: They’re the format I love writing most, but I’m not sure they’re as popular with readers. (Too wordy! No practical application!) Nevertheless, I started writing them more. In the past seven years or so, essay-style posts are pretty much all I’ve written. And they’ve gotten more fragmented and collage-like and decidedly un-practical.
8. Understand that in the past seven years I’ve been teaching myself how to write a memoir. My posts were practice—me learning how I wanted to write my book. And I do think of you, dear reader, when I write here. I share personal stories because I’ve learned—from you—that personal stories connect, make us think of our own stories. But posts on Joseph Cornell and lyric essays and going analog: maybe I lost you there.
Maybe in a world of divided attention, people really do want something practical, valuable.
9. Yet, here I go off on a tangent again: My heart broke recently when I read they’d discovered the body of actor Julian Sands. For me, Julian Sands will be, forever and always, George Emerson in A Room with a View. It’s one of my favorite films, favorite books. Not just because the writing in both is so smart and funny, not just for that most romantic kiss in the poppy field, not just for the hilarious full frontal nudity around “the sacred lake” in the film, not just because Chris and I saw the film together at the Opera House Theater in San Francisco when we were home on break from college—two letter-writing, long-distance loves—and dreamed that someday, like George and Lucy, we too would honeymoon in Florence. (We did!) No. What I’ve come to understand only recently is that I most love A Room with a View because it’s the story of a young woman who learns to ignore society’s demands and instead, follow her heart.
10. This, I’m also beginning to understand, is my story. It’s what I did when I convinced Chris we should homeschool. It’s the story I tell in my memoir: me, learning to trust my gut, again and again and again.
11. Then, this thought: so much of the work I’ve done, here on this blog, in essays and columns I’ve written, in quick conversations with other parents at the park, with kids in writer’s workshops, with young people as I help them on their college application essays—it’s been about helping people hear their intuition. Trust their intuition.
12. I don’t want to be constantly talking about my TikToks here, but maybe if you have time, you’ll indulge me and watch this one. It’s about research I uncovered while writing my book, on how over the past twenty years, society and the government and commercial interests have conspired to train parents not to trust their intuition. To tell them they can’t be trusted to follow their intuition. I don’t talk about it in that video, but for educators: the same.
In a society where parents and educators aren’t encouraged to trust their intuition, how can kids learn to hear and trust their own?
12. Okay, but how does that translate to this: Provide something valuable to readers. Who are my readers? Some of you are younger parents who’ve found me recently. Some are fellow writers. Many of you are family and friends—and longtime readers who I think of as friends. What could I possibly provide that might be useful to all of you?
13. Back when I was posting on child-led learning and writing with kids: that was easy. Hmm. Writing. My favorite topic. For kids, for adults. But I stopped (mostly) writing about writing here because many of you aren’t writers, or you no longer have young kids. Maybe posts on writing aren’t valuable.
14. But you know what’s helped me develop my intuition most? Writing. For nearly forty decades, writing in a journal. Talking to other people about my writing, their writing. Lines from my old journals are laced through my manuscript draft—those lines were my intuition talking, even if I didn’t recognize it at the time.
15. Which is all to say that after fifteen years, I don’t want to quit you, my Wonder Farm readers, comments or no. I’ve never really liked giving advice. (Well, I do and I don’t, but homeschooling taught me that advice doesn’t help people learn.) And I don’t want to write aspirational content–look at my beautiful life!
I want to offer you something practical. I am nothing if not practical. Let’s do practical.
What if I wrote posts that might help you bring more writing into your life? And, if you have kids, bring more writing into theirs?
Fifteen years in, it’s a different time. Time to try something different.
If you’ve read all the way to the bottom of this post, thank you. I adore you. Your attention, in a 2023 world screaming for your attention, is a gift. A blog birthday gift.
xoxo,
p.
Oh Patricia- I cherish your newsletters so much! I never leave comments because I’m a shy writer. Always Afraid I will expose my grammatical ignorance to the world. But I read, or more absorb, everything you’ve written, always so grateful for your links, and recipes and book and movie recs. I have forwarded your post on getting kids interested in reading to so, so many friends. In fact, I think I dove into homeschooling my littlest, now 9 after somehow finding you on the internet- I truly have no recollection how. But I’m so grateful I did.
I want more writing in my life, in my daughters too. And I want more homeschool community, places where she can see what other kids are working on and feel inspired.
Anyhow, I thank you deeply for your stories and wisdom, I get so excited to find you in my inbox. ❤️
Megan, you dear, you stepped up for me despite your shyness! I’m grateful. (And frustrated with whatever in your past made you fear grammatical ignorance over sharing your words! *shaking fist*)
Thank you for sharing my work! And for telling me that maybe my words helped encourage you to homeschool. That means so much.
I would love to help you bring more writing into your life! The challenge is underway. 🙂 Also, hearing you want your daughter to have more writing in her life, and you want more homeschooling community, well, I can’t help but nudge with the idea of writer’s workshops. They’re so awesome for both, and you know where you can find help getting one going! http://patriciazaballos.com/workshops-work/ Been toying with the idea of offering a free webinar soon, for parents who want to do this. A teleconference, I should say. 😉
I like essays, long essays 🙂 and I don’t want or need practical 🙂 but you should write what you want to write. I’ll be hanging around.
Lover of essays, long essays here too! It’s good to be reminded that there are other old-school bloggers still out there. (Sent you an IG message about subscribing to your yours.) Thank you for reading and for the longtime connection, Renee. <3
Just wanted to say hello and let you know I was here! I have maybe read a handful of your blogposts since I have gotten to know you again (through Facebook) back in 2016(?), and I have thoroughly enjoyed reading all of them, especially in the context of remembering who you were back when we were young and until I moved at age 10. One of the things I remember doing with you that I enjoyed the most was visiting the library. I remember you turning me on to quite a few books, the Betsy-Tacy series and “Baby Island” and “Two Are Better than One” (both by Carol Ryrie Brink), to name just a couple. After I moved to Oakland we were pen pals and I remember cherishing those letters, one in particular with drawings/diagrams of the Girl Scout cookies you were selling at the time . Clearly you were meant to be a writer. ❤️
Cheryl! Hello! In retrospect, I realize that, growing up, I did not have a lot of fellow bookworm friends. And you were one of mine! I’m not sure I could have articulated it at the time, but having you move away felt like such a loss for that very specific reason. Funny thing: when you mention the letter with the drawings of Girl Scout cookies–which I’d totally forgotten–I suddenly had a vision of it! I think maybe I drew a piece of shortbread–the under-appreciated GS cookie that was always my favorite? What I’d give to see our letters now!
Thank you for taking the time to respond and for our continued connection. xo.
I always like the long-form, too, and I honestly don’t really care what you write, because it’s a bit of the internet I savor.
The thing about comments is…they’re sort of scattered now. I shared your blog post above on FB, and here’s (the few people in my ‘circle of influence’ on FB, since it’s only people I Know) what they said:
*”gosh I loved every word of this” (one of my best friends, her and I call ourselves “C+ parents” so our kids can have a childhood like ours LOL
*”Wait, we have to parent in the summer too?” (hah!)
* “Lazy parenting hack to getting my own hair done- create a ‘Curl Off Competition’ and give each kid half my hair. Winner gets a lame prize and my hair is done for church in the morning. ” (this long-distance person has 4 kids, one with severe special needs, and she also posted a photo of herself with her kids surrounding her doing her hair for her so she could be lazy 😉 )
And those were just the comments on MY page from sharing it. Think of how many people (known or unknown) shared it, and then got comments. Unfortunately, they are invisible to you, but not to the readers who loved the original piece. Although it’s not gratifying, it’s still valuable and valued by others you’ll never even know about. That’s the kind of quality work you do. Please don’t let it break your heart!
~long time reader <3
Sarah! Your comment made me cry! And I happened to be out on a walk, so it was kind of embarrassing–but worth the embarrassment.
Reading those comments from your circle was so gratifying. Especially the Curl-off Competition from the mom who clearly deserves some slack in her life! That one really got the tears going.
Long-time readers like you, Sarah, are the reason I keep going here. I appreciate your continued reading, your sharing, your comments when you have the time. My heart right now feels like the living, pulsing thing it is. xoxo!
Aw, I’m so glad!!
☺️
I’m so happy to read whatever you write! I love reading your journey, seeing the changes in how you write, watching you become more of the writer you are.
The lazy parenting post has been with me, bobbing about in my head. I lazy parent so much – kids sleeping in my bed, cuz who cares as long as everyone gets the sleep they need! Spending time with my teens while they play video games, I mean have you tried to get teens to do anything with you?? Why fight it. Drop into their world.
But what I’ve been thinking Patricia, is how hard lazy parenting really is. Because what you gotta do is figure out what’s really important to you, what’s right for your family right now and let go of the rest. And then, not get triggered with all you are not doing. And that bit about the overculture telling us we can’t trust our intuition fits right in with this. If we don’t trust ourselves how can we trust that we know what truly matters in a situation? How can we let go of the rest, the stuff they are telling us is so important? How can our ‘I’m not good enough, I’m not doing enough’ gremlins not get triggered?
Also, I adored The Latecomers by Jean Hanff Korelitz. My favourite type off novel: epic, messy family story that is smart and well written. It covers so much ground, examines tough cultural questions through a compelling story without being preachy or telling me what to think. Reminded me of The Arsonist’s City by Hala Alyan in a way (another fav).
I often talk myself out of commenting based on a mixture of time and not feeling like I really have anything to offer. I’ve never considered it from the writer’s point of view before though. Thanks for making it clear you welcome it.
And I would love more writing in my life. It is a goal of mine but one I struggle with.
I came for the homeschooling inspiration but stay for the variety of insights and your own evolution.
I had a good chuckle when you wondered whether you had lost us with the post on lyric essays, which has always stood out to me as one of my favourites (I recall commenting on that one).
And after I reached the end of this post, I went back to enjoy the lyric essay post all over again. And then I smiled inside as your past musings braided their way into my current week: with my son away at summer camp, my nine-year-old daughter and I are reveling in each other’s company in a different way. She has clearly inherited my love of language, so there is an ongoing stream of wordplay happening. It is not exactly a mother-daughter writing conference experience, but perhaps, one day?
Now see, Francie, you are another one who I can search for in my comments and see that you’ve been around, reading and commenting for a very long time! You first posted on my fifth-year blog birthday and you talked about having a two-year-old, your oldest. 🙂 And in so many of your comments, I see your love of writing and literature. A mutual love of sentences, even. <3 I love that you enjoyed the lyric essay--and re-enjoyed it--and that you have a stream of wordplay happening with your girl. Maybe you will have a mother-daughter writing conference in your future, or something like it!
I want to tell you that I included some of your words in my book proposal:
Readers like you make my heart sing. Thank you, thank you. xo.
Gloria, I’m so glad to hear that the lazy parenting post has got you thinking. That’s the goal! And you are so right: going with it is hard. Your paragraph there is exactly the message of my book. Parents today are getting so many unhelpful messages and need encouragement and support to lead their kids down alternate paths.
Playing videogames with your teens? Brilliant!
And ooh, thank you for sharing a book you loved! I skipped the links with this post but do hope to gather more favorites from readers. Yours sounds like a good one!
You’ve been reading and leaving comments here for years now–thank you! No pressure to leave them–we’re all busy. But when I do get them these days, my heart leaps a little. xo.
I am so happy to read your writings! I started reading your posts years ago when you blogged routinely about homeschooling, and I have so appreciated your transition into different subjects and styles of writing. I am a reluctant/shy commenter, so, although I comment little, I take so much from your ideas and reflections. Thank you!
Hi Cathy! Something fun is that I can search back through my comments and sort them by commenter. Do you know you first commented here over ten years ago? In the comment you say your boy is just 2. 🙂 And you have been consistently commenting over the years, even if you are reluctant/shy. Thank you. Really, thank you. Not just for the comments, but for sticking with me for so long and reading. It means the world. xo.
Well, in real life I am *not* shy or reluctant to say hello but responding online, yes, that is me. Perhaps it is the permanence of it and fear that someone will read a tone that my words were not meant to imply. I like IN person chatter as I can see body posture and facial expressions, all of which are lost in these quicker comments one can riff off. You should imagine me sitting here at my computer reading and rereading what I typed before hitting send (and then realizing that I mistyped a word like Tik Tok, lol).
I hope that one day you get on some kind of book tour and head to New England so I can road trip to say hello to you in person. THAT would be grand!
oh gosh now I responded to another Cathy’s reply, lol. I am really losing it, and I apologize to you, Cathy. But yes, I stand by my words that I just wrote. So sorry, I think I will head to bed now for some good rest.
Happy 15th Birthday Wonderfarm! You’re blog is the age of a teenager. Congratulations, you’ve almost raised another adult in all the years you’ve been blogging. What an accomplishment. And forty years of journaling is such a collection. I still enjoy reading your posts. I don’t always chime in these days, but I like your “newsletter.”
Wow–my blog is heading to adulthood! Never thought of it that way! Thank you, Kristin, for being one of my longest, most devoted readers–and especially for all you do to support my work. I love being there for each other as we keep chasing Chapter Two. ❤️
Well, I call my film project my baby and when I read your blog was 15 years old, I thought of it as your baby too—and kind of gasped! I really do think 15 years of blogging is a wonderful accomplishment. And I’ve been interested to read as soon as I found out about it! Cheers to creating all those posts and making each one interesting and a good read.
Fifteen years is kind of nuts, isn’t it? You’ve been here on this ride with me from the beginning, both with your comments–so many heartfelt comments from you!–and in person. Speaking of which, I miss you in person. I was going to toss out a Friday afternoon possibility but that got busied up. But let’s try soon!
Hi Tricia, this was really touching. And I enjoyed the list format. Also while watching the TikTok, I kept picturing you teaching college students Too late in life to get a Masters…?!?!
I’d say, write for yourself! I don’t mean in a self-centered way, but just whatever it is that wants to come into the world through you. And trust that. Love you!!! ❤️
Hi Lori! You watched the TikTok? Aw, thank you! You pictured me teaching college students–ha! I would love to teach writing, at some point, once I get this book finished. My dream would be teaching mothers how to find a little time for writing in their days. And I just–duh!–realized that this aligns with the shift in what I want to write here. Thanks for jogging my brain!
You have always been someone who helps me trust my intuition, going way, way, way back. 🙂 You are also someone who literally shows up for people. I am so happy to have you in my life. xo!
What a milestone! 15 years is a long time! I’m so happy I found your blog/newsletter and have the opportunity to read your writings. You are an engaging and eloquent author, and I thoroughly enjoy your posts. I wouldn’t worry so much about being practical or adding value. That is too much pressure. Just be you. Write from your heart and your perspective. Share you. That, for me, is what makes me stop scrolling and click to your Wonder Farm blog – just to read how you put words together on a page – masterful.
Kim! There is something so wonderful about hearing from people from my long-ago past. As I learn to write memoir, I’ve come to understand so much about past selves and how they’re all still in there, influencing who we are now. They’re all part of our stories. I will always think of you as a golden-hearted person from my young days. I sure would like to see you in person again sometime! Thank you so much for reading and for your support!
I guess I’ve been here from the beginning. And yes I miss blogs, and the conversations that they spurred. I have friends from those days who have become in person friends. I think we were part of a sweet spot, most of us were in it to find connections.
Thank you for sharing, it’s reassured me often that we were on the right path.
So happy blogaversary!! (remember back when those were a big deal).
Yes, Stacey, blogaversaries! Woo hoo! We were part of a sweet spot, connecting like we all did, deeply and without algorithms and advertising. I’m grateful to have had you reading here from the beginning and glad that I was able to offer reassurances when you needed them. You longtime readers are like the Scarecrows to my Dorothy.❤️ Thank you for your good wishes.
“Dear reader”… don’t think I didn’t notice this, ahem.
And “forty decades“ harkens back to when women (or was it just me?) refer to being eleven months pregnant at the end (or “eleventy” if feeling some whimsy). You crack me up.
I read all the way to the end. Of course I did.
You are welcome to read my post in Julie Andrews’ voice if you’d like.
My very first post here fifteen years ago got exactly one comment. But it was a good one. You should check it out: http://patriciazaballos.com/2008/07/18/whats-a-wonder-farm/
I love you to the moon and back.
I *did* read that line out loud to myself and my cats in my (admittedly weak) version of La Dame Andrews, thankyouverymuch.
And of course I was be there at the start. Of course, I was. I was probably your first subscriber, too. (And if not, I don’t want to know who beat me to it — fingers in my ears, La La La La La La La La)
I love you to the moon and back, too, but alas my capacity for travel these days preclude zero gravity. You’re just gonna have to take my word for it.
I have no way of verifying who my first subscriber was because I changed subscription formats at some point, but in mind you are #1 and you probably really were #1 because you are more tech savvy than all my other friends put together. (I remember you writing in a letter to me in Portland: Please get email!)
I will always take your word for anything. You are a woman of words. Good words. *smooch*
Hello and happiest 15th. Not sure I have been here since the beginning, but darn close to it. It’s so great to read what is going through your amazing brain at this juncture because you share and through your sharing we learn. Thank you for the effort and the deep care you bring here. Your blog/newsletter have been shared over the years with educator friends, mainly non-homeschooling teachers, because of relevance. Your relevance to the core of what is important to being with children—listening and offering purpose and opportunities to “give it a go”. Having another 15 years in this sphere may feel daunting, but you’ve made it poco a poco and with larger splashes too! Support and love from me to you.
❤️
Janet, Janet, my most longtime friend who loved and lived and breathed kids and education like I did. And do.
There’s no better support than people who share your enthusiasm–and even put up with coffee-fueled, riled-up conversations! I can’t wait to see you again and talk in person, but in the meanwhile I feel your love and support wafting up the coast. Gracias, amiga querida.
Don’t stop! Life has gotten a bit much, my daughter has been diagnosed with a chronic illness, things are so busy, but I still look forward to and read every word you write.
Oh, Jen, I’m so sorry your daughter has been diagnosed with a chronic illness! I feel like I know her a little bit, after you leaving comments for so long about her writing and you doing writer’s workshops with her and your community. (I can search back through my comments by commenter and I love being able to track that over time.) I’m honored that you took time to encourage me and really really hope your daughter’s health improves soon. Sending love.
Hi Patricia,
WOW, 15 years… I think I was reading your blog almost from the first with my own kids doing the homeschool thing.
I have been reflecting over the past few months how the internet has changed over the years and how it has changed me, not always for the good of me. Getting sucked in to different medias – FB, Pinterest, Instagram and there is Tic Toc that I have dipped my toe in and then out of quickly and do I want to see what Threads is all about since I never did do Twitter? It is the getting sucked in part that makes me pause as I have such good intentions to get on then get off and then there are the rabbit trails I go on. Those can be great but sometimes at the end of the time period, I wonder if I’d be happier if I hadn’t gotten on and just DONE life’s projects in front of me instead.
I love blogs/newsletters because they can sit and marinate in my inbox or I can go to them on the internet when I have time to think. I do love the comments and no, yours doesn’t have as many as I wish there were — that forum kind of atmosphere that some had and few have sustained (I think of Cup of Jo but even that has changed in the last year or less). I’m drawn to writing snail mail to a few friends – using stationary I create, just trying to slow down the fast frenetic way of life.
My youngest and their older sib are both heading to community college fulltime in the fall — I have told my friends and family I have officially retired from homeschooling after 25 years! Four kids and one very supportive husband by my side, I am figuring out what is next for me. I love to read anything and everything you write that I see. I appreciate your appreciation for Tic Toc and staying in the social media that is relevant to so many people, but I guess I am trying to slow down and sit more with books (ok, a kindle), my knitting, and explore my fascination with paper and mixed media and oooh, I am jumping into a mosaic workshop in September when my kids will be in school… Maybe I will sub in a nursery school I used to teach at prior to kids, maybe not — I feel lucky that my dh is fine with me doing whatever I want to do for this next phase of my life while he will be working for another 7 or more years before he considers retirement.
Keep on writing on what tickles your fancy and I will keep reading, here at least, and yes, if I jump onto Tic Toc again, I will look you up. I should tell you that I have been exercising faithfully at a gym with a trainer for over a year now, in part because of something you posted here or on Tic Toc or somewhere! So yes, keep it up 🙂 And Congrats again!
Oh gosh, it’s Tik Tok isn’t it, lol.
I only know because I’m on there, and I’m only on there because I need to connect with young parents. Actually, it’s TikTok. *giggling*
CathyT! You are graduating from homeschooling after 25 years! Wow! I only made it twenty.(insert sheepish face, which I can’t do on my computer) I saw this post from Jamie C. Martin on Instagram recently, about her acknowledging her graduation as a homeschooling parent and I kind of wish I’d done something like this for myself. You should–you have definitely earned it! https://www.instagram.com/p/CumazPyL9Nh/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
I love hearing about your plans–the mosaic workshop sounds fabulous! You should probably keep staying off TikTok and do your slow, analog stuff, which sounds wonderful. It delights me to hear that you’re still working with a trainer. It was the 30-day challenge I did on IG that got you going, I think, so social media has some good going for it. So good to stay strong!
I appreciate, so very much, your devoted responses to me here over the years. In my heart I hold a small hope that someday I will get my book published, and I will do a big long book tour that will take me all over, even if I fund it myself, and get to meet the people like you who have kept me going over the years. Wouldn’t that be glorious? xo.
Happy birthday Wonderfarm! It’s amazing to think 15 years have gone by and it seems like yesterday. We will talk about all of this when we catch up in person. Always enjoy reading your blog/newsletter. Looking forward to the next 15!
You are a devoted reader and an even more devoted friend. I know that commenting on blogs has probably never been a thing you love to do–yet you’ve always shown up for me here and it means a lot to me. Yes, it is time to do some catching up in person!❤️