Last weekend for Easter I went out to my uncle's place for some festivities. It is amazing to me that 30 minutes from the busy city, I can be in such a tranquil, beautiful "country" place. I've only been out there three times, but every time I drive out there, it reminds me of my childhood and visiting Grandma and Grandpa. I love the sight of crops being irrigated, John Deere tractors, cattle, and a respite from the hustle and bustle of the city. Not that farming is easy. But it gives me a sense of peace. Happiness. Relaxation.


Last night I made a farm themed birthday cake for a little girl. I started out with a carrot sheet cake and some cupcakes:

I wrote "Happy Birthday ___________" in the sky to mimic the shape of the top of the barn. It turned out OK. I think the idea was better than the execution, but in my baking experience, that seems to be true most of the time.
Talk about festivities. The little ones jumped on the trampoline, played in a huge tire swing, played on a huge dirt pile, hunted for Easter eggs. We grilled hamburgers and hot dogs, had a bonfire, roasted smores, visited with new friends and kinfolk, drove Go Karts around the property, AND....took pictures of these:
Aren't they beautiful? Bluebonnets were EVERYWHERE! It smelled amazing.


Have you ever looked at a bluebonnet up close before?
Pretty, right? I guess I've never looked at them up close before. There were also these purple pretties. I've never seen them before, either.
I cut the cupcakes down a little, carved one of them into a diamond-type shape, piped some white chocolate ears and snouts, and ended up with this:
I wrote "Happy Birthday ___________" in the sky to mimic the shape of the top of the barn. It turned out OK. I think the idea was better than the execution, but in my baking experience, that seems to be true most of the time.
As I looked at pictures of this cake, I kept thinking, I have GOT to take some cake decorating classes. Or practice more. The inside is good, but the outside needs some polish. Hopefully she liked it.

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