Libby Langford
vocals/acc guitar
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A fetching rural beauty, Libby wasn’t scared
of much – except the sound of the possums in the night, the skeleton
of the chook who’d got caught in the rolled up wire…and that tough
kid from the Tech School on the bus. Yes, everyone said that it was
her year to be crowned Miss Pasture MaximizerÔ (fading community
support for the annual pageant meant that a corporate sponsor was
needed to keep the proud tradition alive). That is, until The
Dreadful Thing happened…It is hard to say really who was to blame.
Was it because she had older siblings to keep up with? Perhaps if
the gate had been properly locked… If only Libby hadn’t developed an
unusually strong fondness for whip cracking…Who knows. What we do
know is that what happened next changed her life forever.With two
hours until the pageant, Libby stood atop the kitchen table while
her mother’s nimble fingers quickly hemmed the dress she had crafted
from some old bedspreads and curtains. From up there on the table,
Libby could see a dusty package hidden on the top of the cupboard.
It looked ancient.“What’s that , Mum?” Libby innocently asked. But
the way her mother dismissed her question and changed the subject
only served to whet her curiosity. As soon as the last stitch was
in, and her mother went to put the sewing box away, Libby grabbed
the parcel from the top of the cupboard and ran, ran, ran - far,
far, far away to the hayshed. She tore at the paper and string to
find a tarnished trophy. She rubbed at the name plate with some spit
on her thumb and her eyes widened as the letters revealed
themselves: |
FREESTYLE WHIPCRACKING – OPEN DIVISION
FIRST PLACE
Her own mother had been a champion freestyle whipcracker! As the pieces fell together, Libby understood that she must not win this year’s pageant. To win the Miss Pasture MaximizerÔ title would surely win her the hand of the dashing Johnno O’Grady, a man with a smile that shone like his beltbuckle. She knew in her heart that she was not the marrying type. She knew in her heart she was destined for greatness with the whip!
As she scrambled for her boots and horse, bobby pins flying from her hair, the last thing that was heard over the galloping hooves was a mighty “Yeehah!” as the crack of her stockwhip cut the air.
And so, Libby followed a life of singing, and running wild like the rabbits at dusk. Although she cut her teeth on country and western, she couldn’t stand people line dancing to her songs. And so it was that she finally found happiness in her band, SNAPDRAGON. When she discovered that she had no trophy winning ability for cracking long bits of leather, she turned to family life.
She is inspired whilst washing the dishes and staring blankly out onto the weedy lawn.
She is still a fetching beauty.