Look in The Mirror, Matron

In yesterday's comments, the ever-insightful Witchypoo pointed out that the astrological winds have been whipping about a bit and perhaps the Matron was caught in said tailspin.

Such logic pleases the Matron.

She's better now.

She got to the molten fetid core of the 'mother's day' issue. This blog post led her there. Thanks, Aaryn!

You see, there Aaryn Belfer complains about her mother's eccentricities. Her bold approach to life -- her mother's show-stopping, attention-getting, larger than life ways. Her mother's Out There Approach takes Aaryn aback.

Here is the photo the demure dear Aaryn submitted to Derfwad Manor, potentially to be seen as representative-- and by millions.

Aaryn? The apple is wobbling dangerously near that tree. She says this in the most loving way, because she thought Aaryn's mother sounded like someone the Matron wanted to BE and the Matron was a little like 'wow could I be so groovy' when she first saw this picture.

But this allowed the always soul-searching Matron a little beacon of light into her own recesses. She was wobbling near that maternal tree, too. Only she was a rotten apple.

Today, the Matron was able to understand -- in that gut, illuminating, aha sort of way--how some qualities central to her own self were very similar to her mother.

The Matron was looking at her own life as trap, sieve blocked up with the gunk, bottleneck - burden. She felt put upon, over-worked and underappreciated. Mother's Day? She took no joy in her children. Life felt like work, work, work. Heck, she didn't even WANT children.

And the light!

She realized that, when she was a child and teen, this shoulder to the grindstone, life of Labor and pine, was a quality she saw (real or imagined) and most disliked in her mother. And now the Matron was wearing the exact same hair shirt!! (in a smaller and cuter size)

Indeed, not only was she wearing this frumpy little frock - it had become a second skin.

The Matron has the good sense to understand that if she had been a penniless, single mother of three, returning to college and sometimes holding down THREE jobs, she would be all shoulder to the grindstone as well. Her mother had no other options. It was 24-7 Shoulder that Burden.

The Matron? Not so much.

So the Matron took her own fine life out of its box again and held it to the window, where the late afternoon light came in -- just so--and the trees popped a brilliant green background to the blooming while lilacs.


And where yesterday she saw Burden, today she saw Luck and Light. And no small degree of self-creation.

Sure, there is Scarlett's bedroom.

But there is also beauty.

And order in that same home




No, he can't read yet.


But he's here. Present. Not hung up or in a hurry or stressed because there's no time or money. And the Matron wants him to stay that way. That hairshirt isn't the kind of garment she intends to pass down.