My baby girl, Julie, turned 31 last weekend.
We celebrated with a meal of pulled pork, oriental cole slaw, the best augratin potatoes ever, baked beans, and the worst red velvet cake ever (you win some, and lose some). It took six matches to light the candles on that god-awful cake. The candles lit up the room like fireworks on the 4th of July (kiind of like her smile) and we were praying the smoke alarms wouldn't go off. She almost blew all those candles out in one puff (or four or five...)
|Burning Down the House|
Julie was our rough and tumble little girl. She really had no choice, since she had an older brother and sister who never slowed down... she just had to figure out how to keep up! It seemed like if something was going to happen, it was going to happen to Julie. Like the time she almost caught the house on fire when she laid her coat and hat on top of a lit kerosine heater. I believe she was only 3 at the time. I still remember that charred coat laying in the middle of the driveway, where it landed when we threw it out the window.
|Six year old Fishergirl|