Wilda Bostwick was born in 1945, the younger daughter of Lawrence and Irene Bostwick, who farmed all their lives near Wheatley, Ontario. This village is almost as far south in Canada as you can get without jumping into Lake Erie. She says, “My parents tried their best to turn me into a compliant young lady, but I resisted their efforts. I am sure they didn’t realize that the name they gave me, Wilda, means ‘the untamed.’ I laughed heartily in my sixties when I saw the irony in their dilemma, well after both were gone. Bless them.”
Wilda peaked briefly as an author in grade nine when her school yearbook published both of the humorous poems she submitted. That was a while ago. Then life – further education, a few moves within Ontario, teaching, motherhood, and business communication roles – intervened.
In the fall of 2008, she began to write memoirs for personal enjoyment and insights. Memories of growing up on a dairy farm in the 1950s provided plenty of fodder for fun and reflection. After she had milked all the cow stories she could remember, other aspects of farm life and anecdotes from her adult life became the subjects of her wry ruminations.
She moved from Ontario to Vancouver, British Columbia, in the fall of 2014. In 2016, she came up with the idea that others might benefit from reading her stories. Never mind that some of her friends had been telling her that for years. She submitted a personal essay to the Globe and Mail for their Facts and Arguments page, and was pleasantly surprised when it was accepted. That vote of confidence spurred her to consider which publications might like to print more of the stories she has written.
To be continued….