My Mother's Cooking
She grew up in the Depression. She made sure that I grew up in The Depression too. Sustenance was an opportunity for punishment. Regimented meals, greasy chicken on Sunday, potatoes on Thursday, how dare I ask for chili? How dare I refuse the brownish spinach and then say I was hungry? All she wanted was a little girl, a girl with long blonde locks and shiny Mary Janes, not this homely tomboy with the matted hair. How dare I vomit back up the cube steak, lying in bed writhing with cramps? How dare I not be perfect?
Hungry? Starving.
Oh, damn, Raq. That's painful.
Oh,
man.
Owch. That was v. good, Raq, in a wince-making way.
waves.
Hi there! Um, I may be coming and hanging out with y'all a little more often, if you don't mind - I'm trying to get back into writing my original novel again and have also just (FINALLY!) come up with a concept for a kids' book that I'm pretty excited about, so I'm batting things around there. Also I'm illustrating a couple of wee stories (pitched at Grade 1 or 2, maybe) for a friend who's had some stuff published by Harcourt, so I guess I need to get my arse into gear and start trying to pimp that out too. Hmm.
Er. Not to be all mememe - just more of a 'Hi, you may remember me from posts such as 'blahblahblah mememe Bless!cakes'. Um.
Anyway, carry on.
Raq, that was painful, in a good way.
Fay, can't imagine anyone complaining of more Fay.
I knew these drabbles would hurt to read when i saw the topic. And they do.
Hi Fay! I'm very interested in hearing how the children's books progress - I have one of my own that I'm trying to figure out what to do with.
Fay! Come and join us, of course.
Raq, that was absolutely raw and painful, in the best possible way.
Faylove, always ready to hear from you.
Raq, um. So, that Depression. Made things miserable for more than just the ones who lived through it. Painful.
Ouch, Raq. Ouch in a good way, though. I haven't tried one of these in a while, so here goes:
Some days are so beautiful it's painful. Skies so clear and blue you want to jump up and swim in them. Orange leaves that glow in the afternoon sun. The barest scent of star magnolia on the breeze, fainter than imagination. Sunrises of shell pink and soft gray blue - not a sky to swim in, a sky to wrap around you.
I took me a while to discover what it was I was feeling on these days. It was almost like discontent, or greed. I wanted to consume these days, make them part of me. They made me hungry.
