This year, the number of Mother's Day cards I sent is reduced to 2, one for my Mum and one for my paternal grandmother. I wanted to get her card in the post on Wednesday and therefore finished drawing it on Tuesday night, after an after-work drink with M.C., which was an instant knock-out potion,
Vapiano's Oliviér Spritz, in case you want to know. We felt dizzy after only one class and I only realised the following day that some of my brain cells must have been seriously affected as I tried hard to erase the first "0" of the "2001" had had written instead of "2011" - duh! Just as well I noticed before sealing the envelope...
![](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7LThORa4z1M/TcZMNLr747I/AAAAAAAADJg/IutJledgYrg/s320/omakarte.jpg)
The card for my mother whom I met in Graz yesterday was produced under equally unfavourable circumstances. I was at Mademoiselle's on Friday night, where she not only fed me but also washed and dried my down coat in her washer-drier (I don't have a drier and the drycleaner's returned a completely flat coat to me last year, so I invited myself to wash and dry it at her place instead). As the drying took longer than anticipated and I had planned to draw my mother's card, I asked her if she had coloured pencils and paper. At first, she only found felt-tips, but then also unearthed pencils. The paper was the blank half of an English exercise (she's a teacher):
![](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4zjYCMlqui0/TcZLzHOhaLI/AAAAAAAADJQ/_uEWxIMwCfY/s320/mamakarte.jpg)
I warned my mother that it was no artistic masterpiece and she graciously did not comment. It's the thought that counts, as they say.
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