Sewing kits from Hancock Fabrics!
I apologize (to no one in particular) for how infrequently I’ve been blogging. Life’s been kinda/sorta crazy-busy—in a good but definite way. Still, I wanted to get this birthday post up—for the girls, for me, for Great Grandma B.
Except that Great Grandma B. doesn’t read my blog.
Great Grandma B. doesn’t do blogs period!
So never mind putting this post up for her.
I’ve been whittling away at it (this post) for days now (note the half-finished mishmash that was accidentally published last night) but haven’t made it a priority. Why? Because it’s Advent, and I really don’t have to say more than that.
Is there anyone out there even reading this post?
Or are you all out shopping and/or praying and/or taking last minute Christmas card photos?
Where was I?
Oh yes! Thanksgiving week, 2010! A double birthday celebration! As in…
Two different themes;
(Felicity chose “Flower Fairies”)
Two sets of gifts;
Two sets of cakes;
Okay, kind of.
Kinda/sorta in a good but definite way.
When it comes to party-planning, I am a seat-of-my-pants kind of hostess. I do not really like this quality about me, but there you go and there you have it.
In the end, it all worked out.
Doesn’t it usually?
They’re all the rage, I hear.
Did you know my husband was a Vulcan? He prefers not to talk about it.
(“Ow!” she said. “That hurt!”)
Can we talk about cake for a minute? I know that you’re probably thinking more about cookies these days, so humor me.
When I was in Texas, Charlotte bought me a cookbook: The Cake Mix Doctor by Anne Byrn.
She bought it for me ‘cause she’s a sweetie, for sure, but also because she knows it rocks! This is an awesome cookbook.
Charlotte even annotated it, which is extra-sweet.
(Seriously, if you ever want to give me a book, don’t hesitate to write in it. I love books that have been written in.)
(Smudgy Cheetos fingerprints are another story.)
One of the recipes that Charlotte had earmarked was this cake:
(Otherwise known as “Rhapsody in Blue”)
Felicity’s cake was not as deadly.
How could it be? It was Angel Food.
Georgie was the biggest of helpers during the party—“No really, Momma, let me profit from your distraction!”—and insisted that I’d be a much better baker if only my spice drawer were alphabetized.
So he got to alphabetizing.
Alphabetizing and upending.
Upending and uncapping.
Uncapping and overturning.
(He also likes to climb up onto my computer desk and draw on the monitor with a felt tip pen, but that’s another story for another day.)
All in all it was a wonderful night–wonderful, yes, because of the houseful of girls, and wonderful because they spent the night. A houseful of hens and they were mine, all mine!
Joe hid out when he heard the news.
Why? Because a houseful of hens is just Too Much.
Too much laughter.
Too much joy.
And ultimately much too cute for him.
Happy (belated) birthday to my beautiful girls! You are my everything and I love you so so much.