Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Who are you calling "Butterball"?


All I need is some bread and a knife
Rigaud, QC, July 2011
About this photo: It's Thematic's edible week, and you're invited to share your own edible vision. Just click here to get started.
When I was a munchkin, my uncle lovingly referred to me as "butterball" (it was #2 on my first 100-things-about-me list.) I was chubby, red-headed, and cross-eyed, just right for some bizarro-Gerber marketing materials, I suppose. I've thinned out since then, but the term has stuck in my mind ever since, because no one else ever used it, and it's always been one of those neat things that connects me to him.

So every time I see butterballs like these, I take a picture. I do so partly because it's in my nature to capture the strange, and to give strangers around me a reason to smile. I also do so because everything, no matter how routine it might seem, has some meaning to somebody. For me, one of those things is the lowly butterball. What's meaningful for you, and are you doing everything you can to hold on to it?

4 comments:

A Paperback Writer Photos said...

That's a great photo!
It makes me think of Thanksgiving, which you just had and ours is coming up -- 'tis the season. :)

Karen S. said...

This is a great story, and photo...and to imagine you as a little red-headed kid, too cute! Nobody called me butterball, (thankfully LOL) but I love seeing people craft things out of butter! Thanks for sharing this cool dish! (all you need is fresh baked bread and steamy corn on the cob)to go with it!

H said...

Peaches- whenever I see/eat one I think of a dear friend of mine that taught me to can them. She moved away several years ago but the sweet memory is always there, even with a picture of a peach or the ceramic salt shaker I keep in my kitchen.

I also learned to use phographs as bookmarks from my mother in law that passed away several years ago. I will leave the photo in a page of the book (sometimes on accident because I don't finish it). It's a nice surprise to see the picture when I pick the book back up again. Then I smile and remember mom.

Aunt Snow said...

I loved the way these looked when I was a child.

How do they make them, anyway?

I'll have to find some edible photos now!