Post #36 – Women’s Memoirs, News – Kendra Bonnett and Matilda Butler
We’ve been running two writing contests this month. One for pet lovers; the second for foodies and gardeners.
Animal Lovers Tell Your Stories
If you have memories of your pets from childhood…of your kids and their pets…an experience working with animals…or of an animal that inspired you with its humor, bravery or personality, Women’s Memoirs wants your stories.
I’ve had dogs and cats my entire life, and the first thing that comes to mind when I think about them as a group is personality. Each one has had a truly unique personality. Our first Kerry Blue Terrier was so protective…too protective really. The day she chased the UPS man down the hall of our apartment building was the day my parents decided she needed to go live on a friend’s farm.
My sister’s first Airedale was an alpha dog…so much so that she was determined to relegate Niki’s husband to third in the pecking order. It was Niki, Shandy with poor Bruce running a distant third.
When I got my Bengal cat Sabrina, I thought she was so outgoing and full of personality that she would always be my alpha cat. But six months later, when Samantha the British Shorthair moved in, she took over the top spot. Sabrina relinquished the top spot on the jungle gym, her food bowl and any toy that Samantha fancied. And that’s not changed in 18 years.
Samantha used to stretch out on my bed and wait for Sabrina to come and attend to her. Sabrina would spend 30 minutes dutifully cleaning Samantha. It was quite cute to behold. Then all of sudden, Sabrina would tire of performing
these ritual ablutions and want to play. She’d pin Samantha to the bed and pretend to bite her neck. Samantha–ever the drama queen–would scream in mock distress. And then the two would roll around the bed in a ball of gray and brown fur until they eventually rolled right off the edge and onto the floor. This went on every week for several years.
Gardeners and Foodies Revel in Summer’s Abundant Produce
Matilda’s the green thumb at Women’s Memoirs. I can’t even grow dirt. Well that’s not entirely true. Last summer I kept three tomato plants alive and blight-free long enough to get one little red tomato and two tiny green ones. But summer is a time for fresh fruit, wonderful greens, and farmers’ markets.
While my sister (another member of the green thumb club) grazes in her garden, I head to the local farmers’ market. I love this time of year and look forward to the Saturday morning trips to pick out fresh produce, a dozen eggs from free-range chickens and locally crafted chèvre.
This practice is engrained in me. In the summers of my childhood, we could scarcely wait for the local corn to come in, which was usually around the second week of July. From then until late August/early September we made daily runs to the farm stand. Day-old corn was only good for succotash–never for corn on the cob. I confess that to this day I look in amazement at the people buying supermarket corn on the cob.
I guess that qualifies me as a food snob. Oh well.
Tell us your stories of summer foods grown or gathered. Let us savor your memories.
You’ll find details for both contests (including prizes) by clicking on this link. But hurry. Time is running out.