These musings started in 2008 as weekly posts to a list-serve to which I belonged at the time, the Small Firm Internet Group. I found myself alone in 2008, my then-husband having decamped and my son having gone to Mexico for six weeks. That Memorial Day, I sent a poem from my book of World War I poetry to the listserve, and gave birth to what would become these Saturday Musings.
So much has happened in the last eight years. Divorce, remarriage, and another divorce. Love and loss. My son has gotten two degrees and taken up residence in Evanston, Illinois. I’ve lost 85 pounds and only regained about 10 of it. My hair went grey. My hairdresser died. I’ve represented scores of people trying to find a fair balance in custody fights. Viruses have raged in my blood. I found Northern California.
And so now, these Musings take another turn and land on their own page. I hope to collect the past ones in a book, and my friend Mary Pettet has agreed to provide the illustrations.
Through it all, I’m the same person. Thinner, older, less agile, more fragile. Tough, though; and maybe even tender.
Before you ask, I’ll tell you why I’m the Missouri Mugwump. About a million years ago, my mother gave me a book called “Emmy Lou”. It followed a young girl from age five to high school. She lives in British-controlled Canada in the turn of last century (or thereabouts). At one point, the Queen plans to visit her school. A child of the Queen’s party must be chosen to present flowers. Emmy Lou learns that her absent Papa is one party while the aunts and uncle with whom she lives are of another. She asks a little boy what that makes her. “A Mugwump,” he scoffs.
Because of Emmy Lou, I chose the Missouri Mugwump as my title when my Saturday Musings went from the list serve to a blogspot. The title suits me. I’m neither fish nor foul in many senses. If you know me, you’ll understand.
So, there it is, folks. The Musings have finally found a permanent home. I hope you enjoy them.