Today is my mom's birthday.  Here she is as a smiling little whippersnapper.


For some reason, I have a really hard time putting into words what our relationship means to me.  I know I'm lucky and counting up the reasons seems hard to do.  Knowing I'll miss a lot, let me say it like a toast.  So, get a glass and raise it to my mama on her birthday:

Here's to Janie.  She is a calm and patient mother, caring and thoughtful.  She's an excellent cook, notwithstanding pans of dust bars that made her so famous (especially in my dad's stories).  From her I learned that a recipe is really just a starting point, and anything can be substituted (probably explaining the dust bars).  She is a good friend, planning trips and outings and dinners and bike rides and afternoons filled with shopping.  She can be counted on to find the best bargains in any store, and has been known to pick up a few pairs of pants in every size if they a few dollars or less.  She is giving - caring for aging parents, volunteering at the food shelf, delivering meals, and driving people around who aren't able to get out on their own.  She goes to see the Weinermobile anytime it is within driving distance, and registers every year to win a ride despite the fact that the folks at Oscar Meyer clearly didn't see the genius in her previous entries.  She takes my kids on adventures and saves leftover cake and bread so that they can feed it to the chickens down the road even though they always eat it before arriving at the chicken coop.  And she is a terrific wife, just ask my dad.  Here's to a woman who can do it all, has fun while she's at it, and makes it all look like a breeze.

Happy birthday, baby Jane!  May the next 58 be as good as the first.