He looked at me quizzically.
“We need to bake a cake!”
“Okay, Mom, I am *not* quite following what you’re saying here.”
I explained that slugs and snails can’t climb over broken eggshell jags, and since that was way better than poisons, we needed to put some around the new base of our tree he’d just planted for me.
He allowed as how he could handle that type of tree treatment. Bake a cake. Right on.
Later, thinking I ought to use the tree I’ve got going already, I looked at the Meyer, picked some lemons, and pulled a lemon sponge cake out of the oven a few minutes ago instead; that’s the way the eggshells crumble sometimes. (I took the picture first while it was still semi-light out.)
Back to the shawl on the needles for his wedding.
