Weird Mother

Weird Mother lives in a large, motherly house somewhere near the beginning of Leriland. It doesn't seem very far from anywhere, and this was the intention when it was created. Traveling a long distance to see one's Mother should not become an obstacle; and in the case of the Mother house, it isn't.

Vast and Victorian in flavor, the Mother house emenates a cool warmth, washing those who enter with serenity and smiles. There are at least three stories inside (not including the quiet attic, with its watchtower-like arched windows from which to gaze at the beach or the moon), which includes an expansive basement, neither too hot nor too cold at any time of the year. Each section of the house eludes to a different flavor, reflecting various eclectic esthetics from all over. After all, it is not only for Weird Mother that this house exists, but for hir children as well. Most who enter in the house do not mind being considered one of Weird Mother's "children", for they know this is not a demeaning consideration; to Mother is hir kindest gift.

Upon entering, the rooms greet visitors and children with joy and wonderment. There is a large living room with thick, spongy rugs from Asia covering parts of the hardwood floor, surrounded by second-floor banisters and playful staircases. Toys are everywhere you look! On the bookshelves (which span from ceiling to floor with old & dusty or new & flavorful books), in the corners, near the stairs... everywhere. These are usually renegade toys which liberated itself from the Toy Room, or brought out by a giddy child who was having so much fun, s/he neeed to share. Inside the Toy Room there are spinning tops, glowing things, funny puzzles, kalaidoscopes, bubbles (!), figurines, sticky-gunky goop which molds and sticks in childrens fingernails... everything. Toys for any age of child, any level of wonderment, any mix of flavor. Toys make children happy, which makes their Mother happy, too.

The upstairs holds many bedrooms and many bathrooms, reserved for guests or children wishing to stay. Many do. The kitchen on the main floor is more modest than extravagant, but it is well-equipped to nourish even the largest gathering of people. The pantries are always stocked with fresh fruits and cheeses and breads, with its own hidden cellar stocked full with some of Moondog's finest wines. In fact, upon occasion, Moondog and Weird Mother invite all of Leriland over for a lavish feast, prepared by themselves. Although the two sometimes arise wary curiosity from their loud (yet playful) bickerings and tauntings in the kitchen over the preparation of the food, the delicacies always come out fantastic enough to notice that great care was taken in preparing them. Those who gather for these feasts prepare themselves by not eating for days beforehand, so they can indulge upon some of the happiest and sincerest food in all the land.

At nighttime, however, the house takes on a different flavor. In contrast to the playfulness of the sunlight peering in rays upon the rugs, after dusk holds many somber moments and mystical inclinations. One could say that in the evening, the children of the house become "adult" for awhile. Gatherings usually proceed to the basement during the evening hours -- where there are rooms of electronic equipment for music or visual enjoyment, but mostly quiet rooms, designed for silent contemplation and intimate conversation. On various walls throughout the basement there are multitudes of paintings and photographs, either created by Weird Mother or given as gifts from fellow artists. Some are crude while others highly refined, but Weird Mother treasures them all; gifts from hir children, gifts from hir friends.

The basement is very comfortable, a secluded womb where sorrow and anxiety and laughter may be explored and understood. Stories are often told down here, wine is often drunk, candles and incense burned, and people gather in a flux of serenity and restless peace. It's almost as if the word "saudade" can be seen making up the structure of the walls; although most visitors to the basement find themselves smiling and hugging, although they might not know just why.

Sometimes after midnight, especially after large gatherings in the Mother home, a group of Lerilanders will make a silent trek outdoors for a somber, yet important ceremony. They seat themselves in a circle around a fire. Few words are spoken, but much is communicated. Trust hangs in the air like cool mist in low fog. This circle feels like an organic equivilant to the flavor of the basement, but perhaps with slightly more serious tonality. Great work occurs here. Important work. The circle is protected by a large wooden teepee -- possibly 30 feet across and 40 feet tall -- and on occasion, Weird Mother will tell tales of the Wolf Clan, from which the idea for the teepee is borrowed. It is here that guests, the Children of the day and the Adults from the evening, may become Ancients of the dark night and lucid morning. Ceremonies are performed and Gnowledge gained, as the stars twinkle off the bowls being passed around; shining their saudagic self-reflection upon the nascent journeyers.

During the evening or early morning is the best time to visit the grounds of the Mother house. The dew on the grasses and shrubs tickles bare feet, and wondrous smells of plants and flowers float in the still air. It is curious that none of Lerilanders ever sees Weird Mother tending hir lovely gardens; including Weird Mother hirself. S/he claims to have no idea who forges the work on the greens outdoors, only that s/he appreciates their kind endeavors and hard work, even if s/he forgets to acknowledge it sometimes. Hir favorite areas of the garden are the Pool of Dandelions and the Den of Roses, which s/he usually picks and gives to a Star and a Red Race Car, respectively; who each wink and mention what lovely groundskeepers s/he must have...

Outside, on the porch, someone has tacked a piece of scrap wood next to the front door, childishly lettered in bright finger-paints. It is a saying which is oft heard by Weird Mother when s/he invites people over; someone has taken it upon themselves to stake it out as a greeting:

"My door is open,
my cupboards are stocked,
and my couch is pretty comfortable."

The sign was erected without hir permission, but certainly not without hir sentiment, therefore it has stayed there for years with only a smile and a nod from Weird Mother. This house was always intended to share: to share happiness, friendship, community, pain, sorrow, trust, excitement, wonder, fear, awe, beauty, laughter, life, and the passing of time. Saudade. And share it they do.

S/he's very happy to have made hir home here, and oftentimes attempts to wonder what life would be like had s/he not made hir home in the community. S/he cannot seem to fathom it, however, but instead sits on the porch swing, quietly smiling at the community s/he helped to create. S/he smiles, gnowing things about hir children that only Mothers may gnow.

Continue onward... Willow

Return to: The Leri Mythos