A terminal for all blogs coming in or going out. A view into my life. |
unselfishly unconditionally stirring the pot. Cook does the best he can. There was nothing of use on Teal World. Not even water we could trust. That still puzzles the Landers. It was as if all the H2O was bonded to the teal crust ... plausible in-my-humble-ignorance. Once every few star-days, Cook would reconstitute some dried vacuum packed vittles from a recent touchdown, festoon it with some fresh picked 'leaves' he had harvested. Today it was ... Well, better not say, let me mention that it was a tad too bitter, a bit salty and had once been a mother ... to millions. The dichotomy between vegetable and animal is such an alien concept to we-travelers as is male and female and ... even 'mother'. Growing up I had a pet plant called mother-of-thousands, it's offspring gathering on the edge of each leaf just waiting to fall and touch soil, each plantlet eager to be off on its own adventure. I gave it to a friend when I entered training. By the time I had left she had nurtured the plantlets and given them to others. By now... they may have taken over that planet. Here we have few pets. We have little water and nutrients to spare. Outside of the gardens we maintain, our compartments seem bare. Yes, some are vibrant with colors and sounds from a hundred worlds, but nothing's alive except us. We 'play mother' to each other as we pour tea out of a pot and smile at Cook no matter our delight or disgust. He-who-mutters mothers we-who-have-no-mothers unconditionally as he unselfishly stirs his pots. For Space blog
The prompt: Do you think a mother knows best? based on "a mother knows best" by Samberine Everose 2.479 |