Every year on July 4th, Bossy and her daughter bake a flag cake.
This Mother’s Day cake, which Bossy’s brother purchased from a local bakery, insisting that the cake decorating lady spell it Mutha’s Day, because Bossy’s brother is city like that. “Trust me,” repeated Bossy’s brother to the confused, grandmotherly cake decorating lady.
Her local food co-op. Seriously, it’s so nice to have a pleasing market within walking distance, so Bossy can meet her sudden craving for sweets and then flop at a table out front, in the sun, and do it in.