I almost always have a miniature nervous breakdown the day of my birthday .It is January 2nd. All of you late December and early January birthday people may know what I mean. On New Years Day people start asking me what I want to do for my birthday? I know they think “We know your birthday stinks and no one wants to party anymore, but if you tell us now we will pull something together, if we have to.” Mostly they assume I would not want a cake because of my particular profession, but I actually do want a cake. When my son was still living at home, starting at a very early age, I would always tell him that all I wanted for my birthday was for him to make me a cake. He always did, even if it was from a box. Now that he lives out of town, I have to send out random requests. This year I got lucky. These are the pictures of my two birthday cakes.
The first cake was made by my godchild Erin and her two daughters. They were visiting over the holiday from Denver, and stayed at Erin’s mother in law’s house. She had asked me what I wanted for my birthday so I asked her to bake me a cake. She and her daughters came over mid birth day, while I was still in my pajamas and presented me with this lovely masterpiece. I actually love to blow out the candles and to be sung to as well, especially since I can’t seem to ever plan a party.
Two days later my dear friend Lorna met me for lunch downtown. When she arrived at our table, she smiled and told me she had made me a cake and it was down in her car. This had actually happened without any solicitation on my part. I was thrilled. We talked happily for hours. When it was time to go, I followed her to her car in the parking garage to claim my happiness. It was stored in an authentic cake holder from the 1950’s. She opened the lid so I could see her creation. It was a vanilla cake with a vanilla orange frosting. The tiny orange squares on top were candied orange peels. You can see how happy it made me.