It’s strangely comforting, even though she’s been dead for twenty years. This is her legacy, her humor(our). My mom loved all things British and my childhood was full of Monty Python (my preference, while juvenille and bizarre to her Alabaman aesthetics, she saw me laughing at Terry Jones’s nude organist and thought “this is good, this is the essence of humor” and let me continue to watch) and “Good Neighbors”, beaucholic and idealistic ’70’s fare and with a wonderful homegrown “Punkrock Homesteading” (check them on FB) aspect before its time. Her love of “Keeping Up Appearances” mirrored the delusional, hysterical women who came before us and beside us; the ones preoccupied with the way things “appear” as apposed to the TRUTH. My mother has been gone for over twenty years and I can follow the digital breadcrumbs back. When I need her or my dad (who delighted in her Anglophilism and thought these things funny too) I can find these things and hear her laughter in my own. I wish we could have watched “QI”, she was accepting of everyone and would have loved to have made aquaintences with Stephen Fry and his lot.