a low-fi kind of birthday

It is no secret that I really (really) like birthday celebrations. I will take any and every opportunity to drag out a week long (or 8 day's worth of) celebration out of my own or a friend's birthday; but Papa Seal, he isn't so much into the fun of it all. I once threw him a surprise party to which he responded, "we've done that once, let's not do it again." He liked seeing all of his friends and family but he hates being the center of attention, I get that; but I like celebrating.

A big part of celebration is food. Weight Watchers is going to hate me; but, it's true, at least in my world. Food plays a huge part in celebration. So you can understand my dissappointment when Papa asked for...a boxed cake. Seriously? Do you not know who I am?

Far be it from me to argue. So I made the boxed cake (or, birthday is a box, pick one). But then I made him a "real" cake later in the week, because seriously? Asking for a boxed cake from me on your birthday is just insulting on so many levels.

It's the souped-up-from-scratch version of the boxed cake, American Chocolate Layer Cake. I have become very close friends with Maida Heatter of late, she and Martha Stewart, they are my homegirls (they of course, don't know this; but, between you and me, they are).

Because who doesn't want 4 layers of birthday happiness?

This cake was enjoyed a few days after Kelly's birthday. On his actual birthday I was in Northampton, Massachussetts at Webs again (my own Utopia, of sorts) learning to spin on my new spinning wheel and Kelly was home with the Pup (I know, who's birthday was it, right?).

It was fun.

After my spinning weekend, Kelly went to San Diego for a conference. I thought the timing worked well, he got to see his family for his birthday...sort of (what's a few days when you are dragging out the celebration, right?).

After his return home, Anders decided to really help Papa celebrate right by getting the stomach flu and passing it along to him first and then to me. The last couple of days have been kind of miserable (we didn't even want look or think about food), but we are on the mend (the Patriots losing the Super Bowl didn't help, of course). Chicken soup, anyone?

Mom, tell Papa to get you an external flash, the built-in isn't worth beans.

In case you are curious, the first picture was how Anders felt when he thought he was going to be able to keep Papa's birthday scarf. No, not so much.