The thing that got me from wanting to write to being a writer was the desire to record the stories that I’d heard my grandma tell. They were tales of strong, spirited women.
In the earlier days of their marriage, when my Granddad had returned from the war and they’d begun farming, a hailstorm came across the plains. For farmers, this was a disaster.
In the aftermath of the storm, my grandma, Maxine, saw opportunity. Hail was dreaded, but ice was a treat.
She called all their neighbors and invited them over to make ice cream!
Grandma knew the consequences of large hailstones on a crop. She wasn’t naïve. She just refused to let disaster rule the day.