King Cake
I missed the official 'Feast of the Epiphany' earlier this week...Saint's feast days are not on my calendar, lapsed proddy that I am. But I did pick up a King Cake at the day-old bread store, for cheap. It was a Mexican version, rather than the more-familiar-to-me New Orleans version, but it had the requisite tri-colored topping (guava paste strips, rather than colored sugar) and it had 3 plastic babies in the box. Basically a 'coffee cake' with soul. I ate a couple slices and gave the rest to Terri and Lawson when they stopped by to pick up some boots I'd retrieved from the cowboy store for 'em. Now it's their turn to find the next king cake, which is nice. Terri collects those little plastic babies, and a trio of 'em will lead to some new knickknackery, I imagine.
King Cake always reminds me of better days, with Beth. Then again, so does most everything else. "It's a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace, and a wound that will never heal". Yeah, Tom was reading my mail before the letters were written.