At first I wanted this to be a Mother’s Day post but the day is still some time away and Mom’s been on my mind a lot lately. It doesn’t really matter what day it is anyway. The segment grew into a series of family sketches, the rest of which I’ll post later on. The complex psychological workings behind this are, I miss Mom and Dad and being a kid.
From my Mom, I learned an appreciation of beauty and life. While I’ve often been ungrateful and stepped on way too many caterpillars, I remember her message. Stepping on caterpillars wasn’t without a point, by the way. These little bastards would fall out of trees and sting you down your neck or arm. It felt like a burn. I regret nothing. Anyway, I don't like feeling grateful. It either means something's wrong or something bad has already happened. Blip being grateful. I don't want to think about anything. Of course, only a kid can live this way.
From my Dad (next post), I picked up a life long interest in all things machinery and tools. Every tool or machine is kind of like a person. It was someone’s idea that materialized and evolved into its current form.
Why did Mom over water the cactus?
This was a long time ago before the internet, and cacti were relatively rare house plants in our neck of the woods (1980's Russia). Not many people knew how to care for them properly.
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