Captain Pike's Ship Log II

I'm feeling a lot better now. Little Mrs. Wonderful has found a five-bedroom house. And I am up, out of bed, even showered. I never even got up yesterday. This is not a good thing. My boy is back in school.

It's almost like, it is like... the sun has come out. Then she came home from the weekend, alas the bliss of ignorance, interrupted. Mend and heal or congeal; that's what I agreed to when I made this deal!

There's no sinful or sneaky obsession going on here but I just can't help thinking aboutKiz Paws -- I even made a special word in my dictionary, so that when I say the name, it will come out on my screen correctly, instead of seeing "keys", for example. But, I see that I have made a small error which is common for me: I forgot to "pad with blanks", as we used to say in the software world of old. I forgot to specify the leading space, but that's okay.

My mother painted many still-lifes, (I'm sure it's not "still-lives", ha ha) this particular one I'm thinking about, hangs in my kitchen. I've had it for years. She died of cancer back in 2003. I was just looking at the painting, and I was intrigued looking at a silver pitcher behind some fruit. Reflected in the silver pitcher, you can clearly see the orange, the apple and the grapefruit. Then I noticed a startlingly compelling reflection of the easel the painting sat on AND THE ARTIST (my mother), standing before the easel, her left arm stretched out, painting. It's just a dark, shadowy figure, somewhat distorted by the shape of the picture reflecting her image. She would have been helpful in trying to work through something like this. Noticing it now, during this time through which, I have been missing her very much, gives me a bit of a shiver. I've always been able to identify with my father's genes -- the scientific inquiry, the faux-humble artistic talent, his temper and many others: not a bad bunch of stuff, it is that Dad has passed on to me. But it hasn't been till lately, that I've noticed a, much welcome, bit of mom too, in me.

Sigh.