People who know me best, know that my cake will be chocolate, but I couldn't resist posting this photo of a Cherbluble.
It is pie, baked inside of a cake. Actually, it's three pies, cherry, apple, and blueberry, baked in red, white, and blue cake layers. This indulgence only sounds appropriate after a dinner of Turducken, another over-the-top gastronomic creation. Think I'll stick with my chocolate cake.
On one of my birthdays several years ago, my son sent me this poem, author unknown:
“Count your garden by the flowers,I have received cards, calls, messages, and notes from Korea, Japan, Spain, Italy, Chile, Canada, and from sea to shining sea. In friendships, I am "old" and very, very rich.
Never by the leaves that fall;
Count your days by golden hours
Don’t remember clouds at all.
Count the night by stars, not shadows.
Count your life with smiles, not tears.
And with joy on this, your birthday,
Count your age by friends, not years.”
But I'm still only admitting to 39!
Author of Penny Possible & A Million Sticky Kisses