So the Matron hauled her fine ass out of bed at 5:46 am and by 6:20 was in a caffeine-fueled frenzy at the rental property.
Clang, clang, clang go the Digression Bells!
Friends, yesterday's blog post brought in about 100 readers more than she usually gets! Unless somebody else is pimping her blog, she's thinkin' that some search engine liked the post's title, all that loving of women and such. Hmmmm.
Hey, if you're still there, not only is she NOT writing this naked, she is wearing mud-caked pants, a twenty year old t-shirt and an earthy personal aroma. Breasts? She used those up.
Back to the Land Baron Narrative.
Over the past three days, the Matron has cleaned for about 300 hours, making up for all that time nobody else did. She touched things she decidedly did not want to touch! You can shudder. She sure did.
John joined her around 8 am.
Because this house is one block away, periodically our children just showed up. First, Scarlett came and she brought a friend .
Scarlett: "Mom? Don't you remember that today is my American Girl Overnight party? Ellie, Lia, and Maddie are getting dropped off early and you're taking us to the movie? And they're spending the night?"
Indeed, the Matron would have conveniently repressed that fact. So not only were her own children on their own for day number 2, she added 3 more of other people's to the mix! Plus, she was reminded how keen her family's communications skills had become. Wouldn't such an event warrant at least one conversation?
Soon, Stryker and Merrick made an appearance, the latter in his new uniform of the Matron's latest thrift store steals: army pants, army shirt (even says 'US army), big bulky boots and a dead cell phone.
Stryker: "Mom, Merrick's my new minion. Minion! Get me that branch from the sidewalk!"
Merrick: "Pwease don't fire me any mowe, Strwker. I like being a minion."
You see, if Merrick missteps, he gets fired from his minionship. Then he cries. Then the Matron has to put down the tremendous piece of plaster she's falling under and actually tend to her children. She does not have the time for that!
In the midst of this, she had to clean up and scurry out to College X to interview people who want to take over the adjunct job she swapped for the full-time gig.
During his interview, Candidate Q made eye contact with the Dean. And then never turned that channel! There were four other people around that table and the Matron radiated ESP toward that man: over here! Look at me! Make a room scan! She extended positive, encouraging body language and facial expression to no avail. Mostly, she felt sorry for the Dean who was limpid after her 45 minute individual eye-lock.
Upon her return home, she donned the disgusting clothes and took one terrified look through her thoroughly trounced house. Yes, the children are rehearsing their worst college dorms scenes while she's away.
After dinner (ha! cheese and wheat-free crackers) she took five girls to see the new American Girl Movie and hates to admit (well, she's admitting to many so 'hate' might be hyperbole) that she cried, many many many many times. And laughed. So did those American girl-world citizens she brought along.
And earlier today, when the toothless 50-something woman who lived in the apartment building behind the new rental, came over and said: "I need $17.21. I can clean, haul garbage, sew, do small handy jobs. Do you have $17.21 of work for me?"
The contractor scowled and walked away. The Matron looked at the mess and chaos around her and picked a distinct cleaning job (windows, doors) and the end result? Outstanding! Gleam and shine. The $20 the Matron handed that woman? Reminded her how many people can't take a bus or buy a prescription or can of coke without serious consideration and stress.
So she's been up since daybreak. She has a big house and one to boot. And never ever any end of blog posts because each day seems to hold a story.
But really, soon the one about siblings and tired old personal narratives! The Matron might just be Sigmund Freud incarnate and she has Analysis, ahead.