Journal



#1,198 Birthday Cake.

My precious Mammaw is turning 90 years old on Wednesday. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have seen so many things in a lifetime. She had a massive stroke in 2008 that none of us thought she could possibly bounce back from, but she did. She’s so independent and lives alone, sweeps her porch and garage twice weekly, changes the guest bed linens and the table cloths even though overnight company isn’t coming imminently, and gets her hair done every Thursday. She’s kind of my hero and an excellent example of a genuine lady.

Since I knocked off work early, after hanging out with these dudes for a minute:

I went to the grocery store and bought some good looking strawberries (along with all my Easter lunch groceries—yikes) to make a strawberry cake for Mammaw’s early birthday surprise:
She gave me permission to give this much to mama and daddy:
But the rest is hers. “Leave it in the refrigerator, my girl.”