What a weekend. And not just the miserable weather. Poor Husband has driven 1,100 miles in the last 4 days and he was exhausted when he got home this afternoon.
Meanwhile I've been having fun making a birthday cake - a special request! - for an 18-year-old. I was told she liked purple, the theatre and stars so this is what I came up.
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Having safely delivered the cake I took George out to the river. Husband wanted to come but I said, 'You can't: I have to practise my words.' I'm doing a talky bit in the prison presentation tomorrow and it's based on the old Negro spiritual - but made familiar to me by Bruce Springsteen - Oh, Mary, don't you weep no more.
Having practised - and perfected - it while walking I've written it out so all I have to do now is not wake up in the middle of the night and keep rehearsing the words in my head. Somebody tell my brain to sleep.
After prison I'm off shopping but that's another story ...
3 comments:
I like both cakes, but do agree that with hindsight we always think of what might have been a better way. If we don't point it out to anyone, they generally wouldn't think of it.
I bet Emma loved those cakes. The top one is almost too good to eat.... almost!
I think the cakes are wonderful!
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