Grandma is 73, and baking is how she tells us she loves us.
When Daniel and I were little, he used to pipe crooked blue stars onto her birthday cakes. She never corrected them.
“Leave them, dear. That’s the good part.”
Baking is how she tells us she loves us.
So when Daniel’s fiancée, Ashley, asked Grandma to make a four-tier wedding cake covered in handmade sugar flowers, Grandma was delighted.
Ashley had complained that bakeries wanted over $1,000.
“I’ll pay for the ingredients and your time, of course,” she promised at Sunday lunch.
I heard her say it.
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