Who's Knocking at my Door?

For a short time I lived with my daughter, in a sort of self-contained space in the basement. There was a door at the bottom of the inner stairway, to allow us each our privacy, and I had a beautiful set of garden doors that led to a patio and the yard.

My granddaughter, who turned twelve yesterday, was two years old when I lived with them. If the basement door was closed, the girls were to leave me alone. But that didn't suit this little one. She would leave the house and stand at my garden doors, peering in, knocking, and calling to me.

Now really, who could deny that face?

She spent a lot of time with me then, and later after I moved out. We spent a lot of time baking, so it was not a surprise that for this birthday, she requested I make her a cake. Specifically a chocolate cake with white icing.

It is oh so nice to be wanted.

Happy Birthday Kiddo, love you so much.