Motherly Instincts

Two odd things happened back to back recently.
First, my neighbor popped her head into the painting fray yesterday around the late lunch hour and gave me a sandwich. Said her mothering instincts indicated I was not eating lunch and working too hard. I have to say that I nearly cried in that moment. That has to have been one of the most unexpected events I have ever been party to. Hey, I am just doing my thing. Painting away. In a melancholy state of being for the past few weeks but far from displaying it abroad/aloud to the general public. Her mothering instincts. I hugged her before I knew I was hugging her. Made my day, my lunch, and my week.
Next day, today, I get a call from I don't know who the hell it was. Number not familiar but whatever. "Hi." ahhhhh, "Hi. How are you?"??? "Good...you don't know who this is, do you?" Not a chance. "Dionthea???"
Yes, my letter carrier, you know, the ones very afraid of dogs but always enticing dogs? a.k.a. mail lady. Wearing milkbone underpants I guess. Calling me. Yep, I swear, she says her mothering instincts were telling her she should call and see if I was doing alright. I crap you not. Now, no there was no sandwich involved but still, I was secretly incedulous, outwardly thankful. My four minute converstations over the mailbox led to a phone call from the mail lady concerned for me. I seemed down. Down enough I guess for a call from my mail lady.
WTF?
Anyone want to make it 3 days in a row, and maybe buy me a scone and some coffee tomorrow 7am @ SCG? I feel real bad. Honest. Pancakes would be nice too.