Mother's Day, redux.

As a 'blogger, I often find myself thinking in two different modes, to the point where my 'blogger identity becomes a kind of alternate life. Luckily, I haven't started writing a 'blook yet... (though it has been said that the short fiction I wrote for PHIL 332 was blog-like.)
One of the more interesting aspects of this fractured-self phenomenon relates to the people I see and hear from through my 'blog: At the end of this past semester, I talked to my sister mostly through 'blog comments and facebook. I see a few of my readers on a semi-regular basis, but some of you not so much (especially not now that school is out and people have gone to their far-flung summer destinations.)

Okay, bear with me, there's a story to tell here somewhere...
Last Sunday was Mother's Day, and while I was waiting for the service to start I posted a disgruntled-tech-guy-rant about people and projectors. I didn't give a second thought to posting anything for MD, because neither my mother nor either of grandmothers would ever read it. I was home the day before planting MD flowers in Mom's garden, and I saw her and paternal Grandma on MD proper and wished them all the best, but the idea of posting anything about it escaped me completely.
That didn't stop me from dreaming about the even that could have taken place:
A few nights ago I dreamed that my mother had noticed my lack of MD postage, and was summarily offended. She spread the word (in a relatively innocent and mother-like way) to both of my grandmothers, and there was mention of how my other deceased maternal grandmother would have felt...
This all made for a very bizzare dream.

So, retroactively:
Happy Mother's Day, Mom! You're the best! Enjoy the flowers!
Happy Mother's Day, Grandma! Your food keeps me fat and happy!

(It's funny how well that last one applies to every grandmother I have or have ever had...)

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