Happy, birthday baby, one-year-old.

Marks first birthday, oh how good it is to have my very own cake.  what a wonderful bundle of love and joy our first child is. Bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh. Our joy and delight.

This child never walked, he ran, so full of the joy of life. He would run into the doorway leading the way from the living room into the kitchen, often had two or three small bruises on his forehead. I was nineteen years old and was actually worried he could suffer brain damage from doing that. How silly was that?

He was a great help with my Betty Crocker cookbook, actually not helpful at all. I discovered him sitting and tearing the index pages out of the book. I love and cherish that book so much more than I would have, had never touched it.


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