Everybody Likes Cake, Part 2

Yesterday I moved a dumptruck load of compost into my new raised beds. I do not recommend moving a dumptruck load of compost by oneself, especially if one is, as I am, a small-ish woman who is no longer the strong thing she was in her twenties. It was hard. It was really hard and I had to get it all done yesterday because had been dumped in such a way that it blocked open the big gate to the alley. The dogs were pretty good about it, but every once in a while, something interesting would happen out there and the puppy would overcome his fear of the Big Blue Tarp and dash out into the alley. Once there, he would become deaf, forget his own name, and I’d have to stop in mid-wheelbarrow-load to go fetch him.

So, by the time the Darling Brother returned from Bozeman, I was very cranky. I was deep in a nobody-loves-me-and-I-had-to-do-this-all-by-myself funk. The Darling Brother returned from Bozeman with a cute little white bakery box tied up with a pretty purple ribbon. Clearly the work of the Nice Girlfriend. Of course, I snapped at the D.B., who nonetheless did the last four or five wheelbarrow loads for me, and told me to go put the cake in the fridge. It was for Easter morning and the NG had spent quite a long time picking out just the right one. I put the cake in the fridge, we had a beer each on the comfy patio furniture, and between the beer and the late sunshine at 6:30 pm, and the fact that it was still a balmy 50 degrees, all was well once again.

So this morning I made a pot of tea and opened the little cake box. It was the most adorable little yellow layer cake you’ve ever seen. It has candied violets and mint leaves on it. It has little tiny rosettes. It tasted very good. It was a very nice little cake, and like all cakes, went a long way to lifting spirits. Everybody likes cake.