Tribute To My Old Man

Well, my old fella just turned 33 Tuesday. Happy Birthday Nanook! Brady has been pondering the cursed 33...The age of death for many 60's icons, the age of Jesus when He was crucified...No winter motorcycle rides for the ol' pappy this year. We have this agreement that I'm going to die first, so I'm sure he'll make it to 34 just fine. We thought I could take up smoking cardboard and bathing in arsenic just to hedge the bet, but that could be a bit extreme..Soooooo, the cake. The "Stupid Cake". This is a little photo taken in remembrance of the first birthday cake I attempted to make for Brady the first year we met. I wasn't so hot of a baker back then and things didn't go so well. I also had a bit more furious of a temper in those days, thus, the butcher knife mid-cake. I abandoned the liquidy disaster in the downstairs kitchen of the church house, and went up for devotions. Bird busted me...So, we don't do cakes now. Although I have learned a few skills in the baking world from many a talented coffeehouse compadre, I still fear it. Like getting back on the horse that bucked you. We're trying to eat good too, so that ruled it out this year. Anyhow, cheers to my sweet old Husbandito!
p.s. His photo above was taken at Bird's 30th birthday party for those who weren't in attendance. Sara's brilliant plan of surprising Bird in our Depends with walkers and rumpled kleenex and eery elderly shuffle-dancing and such...