Just a quick post for Easter and April Fool’s Day, abbreviated because my computer modem has died and I am typing this on my IPad. This is a device that Sara would have loved or hated, I don’t know which, but it was not designed for extended typing or her 100-words-a-minute-on-the-manual-Underwood, for certain.
My birthday and Sara’s were 5 days apart, late March and earliest April, and her creativity cranked up to its highest gear during this lovely and hopeful season. If she had not had a little spring daughter who needed pastel bunny cakes, I suppose she would have just baked them for herself. They were masterpieces of coconut icing and cardboard ears and jellybean noses, objects of envy in the eyes of the less-talented mothers who brought their little darlings to East Adams for my birthday parties. Some of those women never did seem to care much for me over the years, and, in retrospect, perhaps that was a holdover from being outmaneuvered by Sara in the “Betty Crocker Mother of the Century Competition.”