Summertime: A Single Metaphor Mini-Memoir
Summertime and the leaves are green and the sky is blue! It’s the season of childhood and freedom. I remember summers long ago–bare feet, walks in the creek, kick the can and hide-and-go-seek. And all the fresh fruit and vegetables straight from the garden or the market.
In the summer life is one big bowl of cherries.
If Life is a bowl, then the cherries themselves are the sweet stories cool enough to sweat on a summer day. Cherries are stories that explode inside your mouth, that sustain you in the heat, that build up cravings for the next one. We cherish stories because they turn sunlight and shadow, heat and rain, into food for body and soul.
That’s all I have to say today. Off to eat another cherry and read another story! Here’s to the most succulent of fruits and books in your life.
What’s on your summer reading list? Any great memoirs? What plump cherries can you share with us? Summertime memories?
Agh!! I just want some of those cherries!! My favorite fruit and I can´t have any! But it was a good metaphor. Got my mouth watering.. 🙂
You can't have any because you are still sick, Betty? I hope not. Is Paraguay too dry to produce cherries?
Hi Shirley, Nice to see what you're doing here! My favorite recent memoir read is “Truth and Beauty” by Ann Patchett. It's a memoir of a friendship between Patchett and Lucy Grealy, who was the well-known author of “Autobiography of a Face.” It's a beautifully written exploration of friendship that is tested through really difficult circumstances. It's an honest, thought-provoking, and just superbly told story! Cynthia
Thanks, Cynthia. As a memoir writer yourself, you know a lot about what it takes to tell an honest, beautiful story. “Truth and Beauty” sounds like a good one! Thanks for the comment. Hope to read your memoir soon and maybe review it here. I am making a sub-genre list of all Mennonite memoirs. Would love your help.
I can taste the cherries. I'm catching up with “Writer's Digest,” and a memoir called, “Dancing in my Nightgown: The Rhythms of Widowhood,” by Betty Auchard. I met her last weekend and she's 79, and absolutely funny and charming. She spoke about how she had to learn how to put gas in her car, after her husband passed away, 12 years ago–and learn so many other skills.
Betty Auchard reminds me a bit of my own grandmother, who, after serving as a missionary in India for 42 years with her husband, and raising 6 children there, came back to the States and had to learn to cook and clean. Then a few years later, my grandpa died; thus at age 70 my grandmother learned to drive. (Though having driven for her during that summer that my grandpa was dying, I can tell you that she was always a dedicated backseat driver!)
Cynthia, I enjoyed reading your excerpt from Crazy Quilt posted on your website. Collecting stories–what a great way to heal! I've thought about collecting my grandma's stories, and one of the pushes for me to do this is my belief that the second generation has the ability to collect these stories in a way that the first generation can't. Grandparents are more likely to be honest with their grandkids than they are with their own children. Did you find this? And did that cause any jealousy or upheaval between you and your mom?
I loved the magic moment in class discussions when students would stop referring to me or my questions but just start talking to each other about the subject at hand. Same thing happens when people make perceptive, helpful blog comments.Thanks, Betty, Karin, Cynthia and Sonya!
I loved the magic moment in class discussions when students would stop referring to me or my questions but just start talking to each other about the subject at hand. Same thing happens when people make perceptive, helpful blog comments.Thanks, Betty, Karin, Cynthia and Sonya!
I love the summer metaphor it makes me miss summer even more with all my grass covered I think I’m going to cry. bwahhhaaa weeeaaa
Snow is at my house too and we have about 23 inches right now up here in alaska. Sad I love summer but we had to move up here for my dad job even sadder. I feel your pain girl.
23 inches of snow!! Brrrrrr. I don’t think I would like that very long. I just moved from Michigan to Virginia, and that was a great weather improvement from my perspective. Hope you can keep warm, Shannon, and that you come back here to 100memoirs.com to provide some sunshine and cherries.
Thanks, Elisabeth, for reminding me of these luscious cherries in the midst of January. Hope your tears are temporary and that summer, metaphorical and real, comes again soon. Thanks for the visit!