The Crone

One More Day Part IV

Woman of Age, Wisdom, and Power

By Barbara G. Walker

We hear much about women’s nest-building instincts, which, after all, form the economic foundation of our consumer society; but we hear little of any nest-destroying behavior, which may be equally instinctive, as represented by several versions of the Crone.  An older woman may experience strong urges to weed out her possessions, to simplify her life by purging it of excessive impedimenta, to move to smaller quarters and keep them neater, to restrict her social contacts to a few good friends instead of a wide circle of acquaintances.  She may give things away, neglect her house, stop buying clothes.  Page 91.

That’s me.

Today I cleaned out one side of the new fruit room.  I crossed the threshold thinking there was no junk in there.  I filled half the backseat of the car with DI stuff; also filling half the empty garbage can. 

The mind of a postmenopausal woman is virtually uncharted territory, for men have shown little inclination to explore it.  Doctors and psychiatrists glibly ascribe any or all of her difficulties to “menopausal depression,” or a similar diagnostic catchall.  However, it may be that her real needs and urges simple are not understood, so the experts have no jargon to describe them, just as our society has no symbol to represent them.

Earlier societies apparently understood more about the nest-destroying stage.  (If you are interested in examples, let me know.  I have the book; you can also find it on the Internet.)  Page 91

My sister, Lucy, never got to the nest-destroying stage.  Maybe she was forever young or maybe she moved into her lovely new home too late.  She accumulated and built her nest almost until the day she died. 

 A few weeks before she died, she called and wondered if I had the picture of Mama “I think is hanging in your foyer.”  “Yes, I have it,” I admitted.  “It is supposed to be mine,” she said boldly, “Mama gave it to Shirley and since she didn’t want it, it is mine.”  “Actually, Mama gave that picture to me when we were cleaning out the old house; just Mama and me.”  “I would like it,” she said politely.  “What would you do with it?”  “I would hang it in my bedroom.”  She knew she was dying.  “I would be happy to make a copy of it and send it to you,” I offered.  “No, I want the original photo.”

Where was she when we were cleaning out the old house?  I got Grandma Heaton’s old treadle sewing machine too.  Anyone want a treasured sewing machine?

 Dishes and silverware from "out to the herd".  Authentic.  Original.