Just like mom used to make.

It’s official – my baby girl is a full fledged teenager now.  To celebrate, she wanted a cupcake decorating party, similar to what one of the local cupcake shops hosts, only she wanted it here, because according to her, my frosting is better than any cupcake shop in town.  Which makes me so irrationally happy I can’t stand it.  She is after all, a teenager now, so I am incredibly annoying, horribly embarrassing at times and other times just beyond ridiculous, but I still make the best frosting in town.  I call that a small triumph.

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It tasted good. And that’s what matters.

I had every intention of showing you photos of the cakes I baked for a party this past weekend, but in the latest episode of my camera drama, it seems the photos I took disappeared into the netherworld.  Not one of the shots I took of the baking process Saturday night, the frosting process Sunday morning or the actual finished cakes Sunday afternoon is anywhere to be found on my camera or memory card.  None.  Clearly, my trusty old point & shoot is not as trusty as I though.

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This week’s go-to potluck item.

We spent Memorial Day weekend mostly around the homestead in a blur of outdoor band concerts, impromptu potluck dinners with neighbors and a float down the river.  There was an attempt to make home made ice cream that failed spectacularly when I realized way too far into the process that our ice cream maker was no longer of this world.  I tried googling how to make ice cream without a maker  but I didn’t realize until a few hours later it was probably too far along to really salvage. We now have a big plastic tub of frozen creamy strawberry mix in the freezer that is quite lovely with warmed pound cake or lemon cake fresh out of the oven at a potluck.

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