For Iris’s birthday, we finally make it down from Waterville (an average of 771 ft./ 235m above sea level, tho there’s lots of up & down) to Syracuse (an average of  361 ft./155m above sea level, tho again, it’s a hilly area).

Mom and Iris made the orange kiss-me cake together. I suggested it, because Iris has never had one. Dan liked this kind of cake when we were little, but I never appreciated it. It’s a sort-of a coffee cake— tho however that’s defined is beyond me. Probably it was too sophisticated for me as a kid.

As an adult, I appreciate the flavor more. I say it’d go well with coffee, if that was the sort of thing I could drink without staying up for a few days in a row. Fortunately, it also goes well with milk— wait. Are you licking that already?

“I did not lick the spatula.”

—Mom.

Iris helped mostly by hanging around the kitchen, which is sometimes the most helpful thing to do for a cook who knows well enough what she is doing but would like some company.

Iris got thirteen whole candles— all of them!— and pondered what to wish for.

Hey, Mom, what did you wish for on your 13th birthday?

For a wonderful old Gramma-Grandot event, please re-visit—