Write Again, and Send It to NPR

Mom's Meatloaf Goes on a Sentimental Journey

As we approach the Fall Equinox, I am feeling quite accomplished. This summer was one of the longest on record in MY life, or at least it felt twice as long this particular year. The decision to stay put this summer yielded great results in my writing life, but boy howdy, did we feel the burn of this Sonoran Desert summer of drought. For months, every day has brought temperatures above 100, and oft times in the hundred-and-teens for weeks at a time. The sizzling streets stay pretty darn empty this time of year.

Our pups Liberty and Layla still expected their usual twice a day walks. Without the innie-outie aspect of an open patio door, they hassled us to be let out to lay on a patch of concrete or sand in the heat of the day, to toast old(er) bones. Soon, they demanded to be let back in to pant and hog space in front of fans and air conditioners. We could sympathize and relate but did not feel the need to become extra-toasty via the mid-afternoon sun-bask. We saved our basking for wee hour moon, eclipse, and meteor gazing, of which we did plenty.

As nature loving souls who spend most of their time outdoors, it has been a challenge to sit in a metal rectangle much of the time. We have still managed to make progress on rock-scaping the yard and making every scrap of fallen cactus morph into healthy, upcycled landscaping plants. Dan coated the roof and cargo trailer, for which we thanked our lucky stars when the monsoon rains and windstorms hit. We had a lot more thunder, lightning, and wind than rain, but we got enough to green up the desert nicely and drop the threat of wildfires before the snowbirds arrive.

We have proven to ourselves that we can still create and make big messes in the house instead of the yard, which has kept us sane. We have done nearly all of the cooking outside in the early mornings and have kept our little tin can pinata quite frosty. Adapt and overcome has always been our way, so indeed, we have survived and thrived. We have certainly been well fed.

I cannot say that our itchy feet don’t keep us awake at night, although we have taken great pleasure in the easy comforts of home and each other’s company. Trotting off somewhere around the perimeter to do our own stuff and make progress on our projects instead of watching the road has been a real plus. A lot of projects get saved for the home-time.

To that end, I will report that I have continued to make lengthy strides in my quest to get some articles published while we are on travel hiatus. With submissions to The New York Times and Chicken Soup for the Soul under my belt, I am awaiting a reply from both. Yesterday, I sent off an ode to my mom’s meatloaf (follow link for recipe) in reply to a call for submissions about cherished family recipes from NPR. They are beginning a cross-country journey to share more about the stories that people are sending in. I would love to share what I sent, but I can’t just yet, as usual. Someday I will, or (fingers crossed) THEY will, when they choose my story for publication.

Along with my meatloaf story (200 words), the recipe, and photographs of the finished product, I included a photo of me and my mom (I was in my early 20’s), my mom in her late teens (lovingly restored by Carol Mellema), and a picture of just me. The story itself is about my mom and how she influenced my love of tradition when it comes to certain recipes.

I invited the NPR road crew to come hang out at Camp Cordray. I promised any and all present a divine meatloaf dinner if they would come, with added tips and advice for where to go and what to do on their journey. Shoot, I told them that even if they didn’t pick me, I would be happy to provide navigational services and a mighty fine home-cooked meal if they happened by our humble abode. How can they refuse? I hope they don’t.

Here’s to one magical meatloaf, and Mom, who really did make it best. Make yourself some real food, please, and enjoy the tiny sliver of sumsumsummertime we have left.

Meatloaf slices and best side dishes to you,

Brenda Cordray

“The Desert Rose”

Buy Me a Cup of Coffee!