Which reminds me, Will found a beef-fat-rich Hostess cherry pie at a gas station on the way to my mom's house out in the country. I asked if he was going to keep it for posterity or try to sell it. He ripped the wrapper open and said, "Ah hell no! I'm gonna eat it!"
Carpe piem!
My birthday dixie pie from my mom
By the way, I am solidly not a Health At Every Size® advocate during my birthday week, which always falls around Thanksgiving. With the customary birthday cake, pies and general gluttonous festivities, I am more of an Eat Drink and Be Merry At Every Size advocate this week. This month. Oh, and then comes Christmas. And New Year's. And Valentine's Day. So really, my duties as a HAES advocate hibernate til spring each year. Although one could argue that cake and pie and a stuffed belly lead to mental health, so I guess I'm still avocating for some kind of health.
Mom also made me these hand towels. I love homemade gifts. She embroidered the design "Welcome To Our Reading Room" on them. When Katie saw them, she tried to get our cat Thatcher to jump on the back of our toilet. Despite reading the sign to him and showing him the picture (since it has been determined that he can't read,) he has not cooperated yet.
Mom also made three cute owls for Will, Katie and me. When we put up our Christmas tree we'll hang them on it, but for now they decorate our kitchen cabinets.
My sister Kit made vegetarian chili, and my sister Jenny made corn muffins and honey butter for my birthday meal, all delicious. Happy homemade birthday to me!
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