For one forty-eight hour stretch between Friday morning and Saturday night, I was quite the whirling Kat-dervish. Our soon to be son-in-law's twenty-first birthday was this past week, and last year I made him a Dr. Pepper cake because Dr. Pepper is his most favorite thing ever. So, this year, I told him of course I would make him his birthday cake. Me being almost 150 miles away was just a slight logistical issue, but as I am M'urican, logistics is in my DNA. We move the things!
Anyway, I developed a cake plan and initiated it on Friday morning as the party was to be Saturday night. I made two 9X13 triple chocolate Dr. Pepper-infused cakes, I also whipped up a bunch of chocolate mousse, and then I reduced some Dr. Pepper to a syrup.
The following morning I got up early, and whipped that Dr. Pepper syrup into a fluffy chocolate buttercream. I then cut the cakes in half, filled them, frosted the whole thing, piped the edges, and the as my crowning garnishment, grated and entire milk chocolate bar to adorn the top with.
The commentary on the cake's taste and texture was most positive, especially from the birthday boy. That made me happy.
As it was a 21st birthday, the party started at our local family pub/sports bar. It also happened to coincide with the Seahawks/49'ers playoff game, which was a bit of an comical oversight by my daughter, as that meant the bar was absolutely jammed full of football revelers which was pretty amusing as my brother got the announcer in on the birthday festivities and the announcer proceeded to call out our birthday boy the entire time we were there.
After noshing on tons of delectable pizza, jalapeno poppers, chicken tendies, tots, and mozzarella sticks, while also getting caught up in the spirit of things, we paid and heftily tipped the very overworked and understaffed waitress and meandered back to our farm. On the way there we stopped to get some beverages, and my brother, the hubs, and I were, let's just say, jolly. We had the store clerk laughing so hard with our antics before we departed that I felt the night couldn't get much better.
It did though. There was a pallet bonfire, the birthday boy blew out his cake, lots of socializing, and even some young people dating drama. It's kinda more than fun being medium-aged, you just get amused.
We had to leave early as we didn't want to leave the ranch alone over night and had a three hour drive ahead of us. We arrived back at our log house a little after midnight after what I must say was a very pleasant drive due to all the DUI emphasis patrols and not seeing a single car for sixty-seven miles once we crossed into Montana. The deer decided not to try to run in front of the Dodge ranch truck, and the hubs and I spent the first half of the journey snapping our son who is currently over in Naval Station Great Lakes training to be a mechanist/mechanic in the Navy. His absence was the only weird part of the whole thing.
Today, I returned to school. It's going to be an interesting semester of navigating the world of complex trauma modalities and absorbing the relatively new field of study that is Financial Social work (higher education has discovered that throwing money at poverty does not solve it), as well as macro and group work classes. After two straight years of school work during some of the most demanding timeline instances in my life, I have to say my enthusiasm about completing coursework is a bit low. I love learning, I just think I may need a bit longer reprieve than a couple weeks. But, a semester is only sixteen weeks and then I get the summer completely off with now graduation or moving chaos this year, so I got this!
Remind me in a couple weeks that I said that...😉