The Matron was just about to hoist up her support hose and roll that wheelchair into The Home. Then something happened.
For quite some time, those dots connecting one Mary Petrie with one Minnesota Matron have been flashing a neon, 1970s green: she is here! She is here! She is here! The Matron understands that it is indeed possible to keep one's identity more or less under wraps, but she was just never quite that careful.
Now she's just tossing the cat out of the bag. Go.
But while they may be one and the same, Mary does not have permission to write on this blog: the Matron lays claim to this creative space. And one dutiful reader has put in a request. .. that yours truly reflect on -- no wait, make sense of, recent Supreme Court maneuvers.
It would appear that the Matron has a book to promote and a feminist health-care, human rights puzzle to unpack. The latter would also involve understanding playground politics that we might call the Supreme Court. Who's ball is it, anyway? More on that later.
In the meantime, gentle reader, please know that the Matron has been wrung out. Spent. She has wept with joy and gratitude over her oldest. And continues to do so. That young man inquires about book sales daily. He comes up with new marketing strategies. Wonders how his mother is feeling. Says things like "you deserve all the good things that come to you, Mom."
The Matron, who has not been slipping benzos into his soup, remains a limp loving Mama-noodle. She is happy to wait on tha
Of course, the young children claim their gift-giving lives -- among other things - have been utterly ruined. "Not to be outdone" is a phrase that now gives each pause. Really? How to outdo making a dream come true? Merrick is working on it but it involves a dog, gun and stick. The Matron is dubious.
All will unfold and she will dutifully report here. In the meantime. . . . tell her you don't hate it after you read it. Buy the book! That was Kindle. Here is old-fashioned print.