Where's the Lamb Part one: Ever since March came in like a Lion, and Sarah started bringing home cutouts, poems, drawings and the like of both Lambs and Lions all month, Rich has been trying to tell me that the saying goes both ways, March either comes in like a Lion and goes out like a Lamb, or comes in like a Lamb and goes out like a Lion. Ok, so a: I've never heard that, and b: While I do remember some warm and mild Marches, and he's a rather intelligent guy, well, I just think he's goofed up on this point! (hehe - Hi honey). Of course the weather rarely follows the rules - kinda like the groundhog telling us there will be six more weeks of winter. Usually things start warming up mid-march anyway, so other than fun for the kids and a few grown-ups like me who want to pretend winter is going to end a little sooner, it really doesn't make a bit of difference.
No matter, because this year neither one of his options was correct. This year, March came in like a Lion and went out like a Lion. Cold and snowy mixed with rain in that first week, and thunderstorming yesterday, with lots of rain, ending in a light dusting of snow in the wee hours. April Fools Mother Nature - and thank you for making it melt by 10 a.m.
Where's the Lamb Part Two. While March often does start off roaring like a Lion, the reason we didn't end with a Lamb is because we ate it. Except we have no proof. Let me explain. Every year since I can remember, my mother has made a wonderfully scrumptious lemon pound cake, molded into the shape of a lamb, and frosted with the yummiest buttercreme frosting ever. I took over the baking and frosting when I was somewhere around 12 years old. Last year, Natasha took over the job of frosting our lamb cake. This year, she measured, grated, mixed, poured, baked, and frosted. I pulled out the recipe and washed, greased and floured the lamb mould. Oh, and I sliced some strawberries to have with the mini cake we make from the leftover batter that doesn't fit in the mould.
The other day I edited photos and thought to print the photos of Natasha baking the cake as, being a crazed scrapper, I have photos of her measuring, grating, mixing and pouring the batter. It was then I realized we hadn't taken a single photo of the finished cake, frosted all creamy white with jelly bean eyes and nose, a pink ribbon around it's neck and green frosting grass piped all the way around the bottom. Ooops. Ok ok, so I have photos of every lamb cake I have made since we have been married, including the one Natasha frosted last year (already used those for a scrapbook page). I suppose this years page will just be about the baking huh?