2. Bake some cinnamon rolls.

First of all, I must tell you that I’m currently writing this post on my phone from somewhere on I-70 west of Columbia. If that isn’t dedication to blogging, then I don’t know what is. It also means that I bear no responsibility for unfortunate typos, tiny photos, or the like. (as if I ever do anyway?)

But who am I to deprive you of an overdark photo of some delicious that you can’t have?

These are a belated Mother’s Day offering to my mom, as we were unable to go to KC last weekend. Luckily, she’s legally obligated to love me, no matter how late her gift may be.

But wait! There’s more! Since we’re going to Grandma’s house tomorrow, I also made a coffee cake. I’ll have to share this recipe with you someday soon – it’s a good one; passed down from Grandma’s friend’s sister. I’m forever indebted to Mildred (and thus her sister) for letting me randomly turn up at her house and eat candy from her candyjar. I think that happened just about every time I went to Grandma’s house, in fact. Mildred was so nice, and Myra made a darn good coffee cake.

And now I must get back to my grueling duties as backseat driver and manager of the iPod. Too bad it’s too dark to knit!


One response to “19:2

  1. Your poor old mother is sitting in the window waiting for the cinnamon rolls, I mean YOU, to come home. I haven’t eaten in three days so that I can do justice to your baking. BTW, I only got two of the snickerdoodles that you mailed to your dad. I might let him lick the cinnamon roll pan. But maybe not.

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