The Mother Of All Blogs.

Elyzabeth reporting.

There is much to say about my fellow blogger, my roommate, my best friend and the woman I call Mum.  That they are all one and the same person is remarkable, but no less remarkable than the woman herself.

She has evolved with the passing of time.  The small town girl back in the 50's, gave way to the young wife and mother in the turbulent 60's.  The 70's saw the start of the iconic career gal and by the 80's she was wielding power suits and punching through the glass ceiling.  The 90's began a most interesting time, where she explored her wilder side and traveled around working at renaissance festivals.  The 00's brought her back to small towns, fresh widowhood and finally retirement.  Now the 10's have her here at my side, enjoying herself and of course blogging with me.

That single paragraph can give you a timeline of her life so far and a general overview of the highlights, but it doesn't even begin to explore all that she has done with her life.  But I won't be telling you the story of her life today.  What I want to do is tell you what she means to me.

How is it that a mother and daughter can be best of friends?  Of course, we do have a shared history, common interests and similar personalities, but then so do many mother and daughters.  Don't they?  Hard for me to say; I really don't spend much time with other mother/daughter pairs.  In group settings, when the conversation is lively, I've often had people say things to me like "I can't believe you just said that in front of your mother".  Since it is typically said after I've made a remark about hot guys, sex or drinking, I'm guessing that most women wouldn't say these things in front of their mother.   But I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that most mothers out there have at some point or another looked at hot guys, had sex (with your dad, ewwww!) and if they drink, probably had one too many at least once. 

It's actually rather funny that Mum and I have so many interests and skills in common, because for the most part we didn't learn them from each other.  Over the years we seemed to have gravitated to the same type of activities and developed similar skill sets independent from each other.  So, what do we like to do?  I'm so glad you asked!  Travel, reading, cooking, painting, crafting, sewing and home remodeling, just to name a very few highlights. 

I think I can pinpoint when our relationship started to change from mother/daughter to friends.  It was during the time I was expecting the birth of my son.  When Mum ran off and "joined the circus" as she puts it.


Lady Ann, 1989

At the time Trevor was born, I was living in a shack out at the Arizona Renaissance Festival.  Pretty crazy, right?  Not nearly crazy as my mother.  Like any mother, she wanted to be there for the birth of her first grandchild.  So, she hitched a ride with some buddies who were driving from Denver down to Phoenix.  She arrived at the faire site well after dark and with really no idea where I was to be found, she had her friends drop her off at the first campfire they found.  Now that is one gutsy lady! 

There she was surrounded by people wearing tie dye, looking like she was headed to a golf outing at a resort.  In her designer clothes, her manicure and makeup completely flawless, she couldn't have been more completely out of place.   

Lady Ann, 1990

For over a month she lived in a tent on the renfaire site, out in the middle of the desert.  She coped with the lack of amenities.  She enjoyed the fresh air and sunshine.  On weekends she would don the garb and pretend to be a villager, even though the fancy jewelry and tidy haircut gave it all away.  She made friends with the rennies, a mixed bag of hippies, new agers and artisans.  All along, I'm sure she was planning on going back to her normal business executive life once the baby was born, but she didn't.  Somehow the bohemian lifestyle took hold of her and during that month in the desert, she turned into a rennie.

Along the way, she met my step dad, an itinerant construction worker and woodcrafter.  He was a big bear of man with a beard and ponytail, so unlike my very proper mother.  Tusky to his friends, he was always Ted to my mother.  

We didn't see each other much during the renfaire years and as it turned out, I gave it up long before she did.   In the end, I was the one wearing the power suits while she was wearing tie dye.

Thank you, Mum for being there when I needed you most.  I hope you don't mind too much that I busted you out of your suits.

Elyzabeth