The first birthday cake my Mom ever made me. She makes the BEST icing.
Birthday at Grandmom’s house (probably actually on New Year’s Eve). Clockwise from left: My Mom holding me, my Dad in his hella-cool Schlitz beer can hat (made from real beer cans and yarn), Grandmom (my Mom’s mom, who always wore pink), cousin Patrick (looks like he snuck in there), and my Pop Pop (my Mom’s dad, and at one time a great tap dancer, Fire Chief, founder of the Clifton Heights 4th of July Parade, and a great lap to sit on).
Ready for a stroll in the cold. “I can’t put my arms down!”
Me with my Raggedy Ann in my very favorite rocking chair. Later that year I would be Raggedy Ann for Halloween.
Proof of my age: The same 30 year old picture before photoshop.
Tonight’s plans include dinner at a quaint BYOB with two bottles of white wine, if Andrew gets out of work on time. He’s been running the midnight oil lately, and it is taking its toll. So fingers crossed that he gets out of there by 6pm because we could both use the baked brie with raspberry coulis and Chilean Sea Bass with vanilla mashed potatoes. Oh, and the decadent half-baked chocolate cake! Is it time yet?
