Happy Bunny Cake to Me!

Way back around 1961 my little sister's April 2nd birthday fell on Easter. Mom made her a very special bunny birthday cake. That made such an impression on me (at nearly eight years old) that I just couldn't wait until my April 12th birthday fell on Easter so I could have a bunny cake too. I waited around 30 years for that to happen! Needless to say, that year I reminded Mom that my birthday was on Easter, and I wanted a bunny cake. And I got one.

Today my birthday fell on Easter again! And my sweet mama made me another bunny cake covered with coconut and jelly beans. We had a good laugh because it looked more like a dog than a bunny. We think that is due to not having quite enough room on the cookie sheet to put the ears in a bunny-like position. So the ears were placed a little differently than the average rabbit wears his ears. Luckily, my daughter took a phone photo so you can check out my cake.

It's simple to make a bunny cake. Just use two round cake pans. Leave one round and cut two football-shaped pieces out of the second layer. See the illustration. Load on the frosting and coconut. Decorate it bunny-like and then eat it up.




I spent my birthday doing a lot of cooking for my husband's family's Easter lunch. I baked a turkey, made a ton of sage dressing, my famous mashed potatoes, yeast rolls, garden corn, some good ol' Merkley's ham, and some giblet gravy. Other members of the family brought dishes as well. We had an absolutely delicious meal. Everyone that wanted took home leftovers, and I've still got a ton of dressing to take to work tomorrow to share with my lunch buddies.

Thursday, we leave for Italy. I hope to have the mess from my cooking cleaned up by then, but it's going to take one heroic effort. Before I get started, I think I need to heat up some of that good dressing.

Hope everyone had a blessed Easter!

BINGO!!!!

I've made a fool of myself on several occasions, but luckily have nearly always been able to laugh at myself. I can do that when among people I know, but when it happens in front of strangers, that's a different story. Here are the medal-winners, and they all happened on the same day, same place.

Before I worked at Kimball with my husband, I would always attend the company picnics at the fairgrounds. The food was good, the prizes were worth the trip, and there were activities for everyone. My husband always had to work at one of the booths after lunch, and the kids would play the various carnival games. But me? I hated roaming around trying to look like I belonged.

But one year was especially bad. The lunch buildings were always crowded, but we got there early and stood in line, then sat down. Leroy's a fast eater; I'm a slow eater. He wolfed down his food in five minutes and I had barely started. Then he said, "People are waiting for a table". Then he signaled to a man looking for a seat. I started to ask him to please sit and let me finish, but he was gone in a flash. In his place was a complete stranger, one of a thousand more. Embarrassing, to say the least.

I was hurt that some stranger looking for a seat was more important to my husband than sitting with me for a few more minutes, so I picked up my food and pitched it in the trash on my way out. After roaming around an hour, I decided to try my hand at Jarts. Even though my softball pitching sucks, I could at least come halfway close at Jarts and I didn't have to worry about hitting someone with the Jart if I should have an errant throw...or so I thought.

I stood in line and waited my turn. There was a large crowd waiting to play and many others just watching. The first Jart landed fairly close to the target. Not too bad. The second one was a little closer. Then I made the mistake of picking up the third Jart. It wasn't until I released the Jart that I noticed it was extremely sticky--no doubt the work of some little mongrel fresh out of the cotton candy booth. Because it was sticky, the Jart didn't release from my hand until a split-second too late. And because I was taught to "follow through", the Jart released directly above my head!

It went straight up and of course due to the law of gravity--straight down again and headed for me. I had to duck and run for cover! The crowd roared. That was the second embarrassment of the day.

Number three at the same company picnic.

I decided to pass the time playing Bingo. I could win $5 for a regular Bingo, $20 for a coverall. I headed back to the lunch building, which was transformed into a Bingo hall after the eatin' was done. I took a card and a seat. In just a few minutes, I had a Bingo. A thousand people in that place and I bingoed--what luck! I yelled the obligatory "BINGO!". The caller bellered, "HOLD YOUR CARDS!....Ma'am, this is a coverall". A thousand people turned to glare at me for interrupting their game. That was bad enough.

About fifteen minutes later, I had another Bingo. Again, I yelled "BINGO!" Only this time, those one-thousand people gave a collective groan. Ever hear a thousand people groan in unison? It's pretty darned loud. Again, the announcer admonished me. This time I left, much to the amusement of the crowd. At least now being a stranger came in handy. Nobody knew me. Nobody recognized me--except for Karl, one of Leroy's co-workers.

To this day, over twenty years later, I can be at the local grocery or Wal-Mart and hear someone holler "BINGO!". And I know it's that crazy Karl, who is now my mom's next-door neighbor. Over the years, the Bingo story has become funny to me; even to the point where I am the one that yells "BINGO!" to let Karl know I saw him first!

Food Fun

We've all done it. We've all done stupid things that caused us to end up wearing food. I can think of a few times, but I think it happens so often that I only remember the really outstanding food-related accidents.

I had at least two of these when I worked for Kimball. One was during lunch with my friends at a local Mexican eatery. This pesky fly decided he liked Mexican cuisine as well; as he kept flying around our food. I hate flies. I just know they've landed on some "poop de jour" just before landing on my food. I kept shooing this thing away with my hand, but he kept coming back.

I shooed once too often. Just as my friend DeeDee was lifting a fork to her mouth, the fly returned. As he flew in front of her fork, I did a back-swat. Of course the fly just flew away, but I ended up hitting DeeDee's forkful of food with the back of my hand. That swift move neatly deposted all that nice red Mexican food onto DeeDee's chest.

I had to laugh. It was always a running joke that either DeeDee or I would end up wearing some of our lunch. For some reason we had not yet slopped any food on us, so it was inevitable.

One other time I was getting ready to give some Windows classes to some of our folks at the 30th Street plant. I went to lunch; and as I usually did, got a refill of iced tea before leaving. I had just enough time to make it to the class. I got into the car and put my huge cup of iced tea in the seat beside me. When I grabbed the seat belt, I realized I had sat on it. So I lifted my rump to pull the belt out from under me. As I did that, the iced tea fell on the seat right where I was sitting. When I sat down, the lid popped off and I was drenched.

I was a half-hour from home and class was due to start in five minutes. All I could do was tie a sweater around my soaked butt and teach the class. I did explain to them why I was drenched, but these guys knew me and nothing I did ever surprised them.

After Kimball, I went to work for a small technology company in the same town. On my second day there, I was sporting a new ivory sweater. At lunch, I went to one of the downtown eateries where they were serving meatloaf. When the waitress served the meatloaf special to me, I grabbed the ketchup and squirted a very generous supply of the red stuff on my meatloaf. Then I saw my utensils on the other side of the table.

Instead of doing the smart thing and getting up to retrieve my eating tools, I simply reached over the table to pick them up. This swift move deposited my...well, you know...right in that big pile of ketchup. I had a huge circle of ketchup on my chest in the worst spot possible. Again, I was more than a half-hour from home. All I could do is slump to hide my spot until I quickly finished my lunch. Then I took off to the other side of town to a clothing store. I explained to the clerk what I had done and she let me wear the replacement out of the store (after paying for it, of course). Since it was basically the same color of my other sweater, no one even noticed.

...and now I'm queasy from thinking about meatloaf and Mexican food. I guess this stomach bug IS still with me. I've gotta run.

I Might Just Make It

Just a note...I think I'll live, although still running a fever, queasy, and all the other fun stuff. The Good Lord saw fit to keep me alive despite my pleas for death. He must have plans for me. I hope they involve winning the lottery.