QUEEN OF WANDS
Perhaps today the Queen of Wands is simply a reminder of times past, the warmth of home and Mother and security?
I was meandering through old photographs this morning. I received some photos from my Dad’s numerous albums after he died. This one was taken with a Polaroid camera in 1969 when I was 13. I was wearing the velvet cloak that my Mom wore on her wedding day.
Get a load of the rec room. Yeah, we didn’t have no stinking designer homes back then. The walls are papered with faux woodgrain panels, the plant is plastic, the painting on the wall was a paint-by-number, beautifully executed by my oldest sister in the early 60s, the old stereo played 78 RPM records, and the floor was linoleum. As I recall I was fond of playing a bright pink 78 RPM record of Sleeping Beauty with music by Tchaikovsky.
Well, I am definitely not this Queen, even back in 1969 I preferred hiding in the basement. Never a social person, I find myself even less so as I age. While recognizing this lady’s determination, even fierceness, I lack her warmth. She’s an interfering busybody who would do better to take herself to the rec room and play some Tchaikovsky records that have great orchestration.
Yikes, we don’t need no stinking warmth.