The Trimmings

This past spring, thinking ahead, Millie made a birthday list. For her birthday she wanted
-a horse, a REAL one (unsurprisingly, this is a monthly request)
-a pair of gardening gloves
- a small sewing machine ("if you can find one cheep at a yard sale")*
-some chapstick
-some books
-a cherry pie

Each request was spelled atrociously, but, with the exception of the horse and the sewing machine, she's pretty easy to please.

*I feel the need to insert this small truth. If "Someone" reads this post, and "Someone" thinks that would make a perfect gift for Millie, let that loving and big-hearted "Someone" know that Millie doesn't need a little machine because she is learning to properly use the big machine and is doing well. That's all. :)

Anyway, the afternoon of her birthday, I told her to read a book in the library and forbade her from entering the kitchen. She thought I was decorating her cake, and I let her think this because, in fact, I was making the cherry pie about which she'd forgotten. Mildred has a history of passionate cherry pie love and talks year-round about the piece(s) of cherry pie she gets to eat at Thanksgiving.

I'd canned some sour cherries specifically for her pie, and it was fun to imagine her delight when she saw it.

(When in doubt regarding sugar, sprinkle a pound on top.)

Then, because I had made a pie and the house was a wreck, I piped a scary horse onto her cake instead of failing at something more elaborate. SCARY!

And then I hid her pie on my bed, leaving it to cool and promptly forgetting about it until later that evening when I took this lousy picture.

I asked Debbie to take some pictures of me bringing it in, lit candle on top, after we had cut her birthday cake, and my favorite picture was this one.

As soon as she blew out the candle on the pie, she turned to my mother and sweetly said, "THANK YOU, Grandma!"

This picture shows her expression when I retorted, "HEY! I made that pie!"

Here is her response to the sweater my mom made for her. (Her reaction to the stylish apron my mom also made for her was about the same.)

Here is her response to Annika's gift.

I took no pictures of Millie opening her super-fabulous gifts from McGamma, Dude, and Aunt Sarah earlier that afternoon because my ears were ringing from all the delighted screams of four girls jumping up and down. (Seriously, Dudette, they were SO exited and SO loud. I'll post pictures of them playing with the gifts later...)

And here is my Dad after the party, telling jokes. Andy thought he was masquerading as an Amish gangsta.

Maybe he was.