lady-roars, 9

Ms. Andrea is the moon-girl on the right

baby Andrea and Dad

!!! welcome to lady-roars, 9 !!!
i initiated freeform conversation with fellow women creators about art, identity, and whatever else.

Ms. Andrea (Lauterwasser) Prymek is a lovely gal from Iowa. i had the pleasure of meeting her in middle school, and totally enjoyed singing with her during our high school career. immensely sweet, very very darling, and a wonderful storyteller, this Iowa-gal unfolds below her feelings about being cornfed.

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I grew up in Blairstown, Iowa, which is a small farming community in Benton County. I remember as a child being able to run a lemonade stand on Main Street, selling to neighbors and the postman for a quarter. I remember Sauerkraut Days where as a kid you could run the town and ride bikes with your friends to different activities, such as the cakewalk— pretty much every kid walked home with two homemade cakes. I also remember walking by the park and watching our most popular game, cow chip bingo— for those who don’t know, there is a grid with numbers painted on the street, and a cow in a pen … and basically, whatever number the cow poops on is the winning number.

My father worked in farm stocks and had his office right off of Main Street, and my mother owned a second hand (& craft) store in the next building over called, Country Charms. My parents walked to work and walked home. Like most Iowa parents, mine were extremely active in our lives— school functions, fairs, science projects, dances, birthdays: everything was a big deal and everything was celebrated.

Morel mushroom hunting: I remember walking through the woods out near Amana with my dad. He would find me a brush stick (a longer stick used to push away leaves and debris to make it easier to spot a morel) and we would spend hours looking and usually come home with a potato net full. Morels are a celebration to we Iowans, as they only come once a year.

I lived in Carolina for a year after graduating high school; it was a very different place. I understand southern hospitality, but I have still never met friendlier people than those from Iowa. … I remember my boss in Carolina, a new Yorker named, Kris Constantine, who used to own a strip club in Brooklyn … and now for some reason is a manager at a steak house. I remember him always telling me how remarkable I was. He said to me, “Iowa, you are exactly what I would picture a cornfed girl to look like.” I understood that comment because as an Iowa girl our bodies look a little different than those on the east or west coast. Most of us are a little thicker, with larger arms and a firm stance. Most of us are blonded by the summer sun and tan. … Carolina was fine, just not for me. Every day I missed Iowa more and more. It is my home, my roots, my heaven.