So no shit, here I am, stuffed with junk food my mother sent me for Christmas (pistachios and Christmas cookies and a pecan log, oh my!). The cat has a battery-operated hamster to run away from. And I've discovered something important about my mother: I don't really know her that well.
We've been thousands of miles apart for years now. She's bipolar, and there's some history there that makes a close relationship problematic at best, and, well, we grew apart. Never stopped loving each other, mind, but we're not nearly as close as we used to be. So I didn't know until tonight that she'd like a laughing monkey for Christmas, and that she's interested in geology.
That last rather took me by surprise. I knew she was interested in volcanoes - when I went to Mt. St. Helens, she wanted pictures and some volcanic rocks. But geology overall? Not so much.
So I've ordered her a copy of Roadside Geology of Indiana, and I'm sending her a gas card, and when I go to see her next, we'll be out tramping around Indiana's pitifully-few geologic sites. One of these days, I'll even get her out here (which is difficult, because she's got lots of animals. Lots and lots of animals), and show her what real geology looks like. No disrespect to Indiana's geology.
I should've known that she'd be interested in geology. Especially after that talk we had a few weeks ago in which she displayed far more political acumen than most people I have the misfortune to discuss politics with. Put it like this: if we run into any Teabaggers whilst out traipsing Indiana's geological sites, all I have to do is step back and watch my sweet-as-a-pecan-log mother rip the idiot several new ones. The woman's a caution.
So, there you have it. Unexpected revelations at Christmas time. And an even more unexpected revelation: I really won't mind visiting Indiana. Much.