Happy birthday, Red Angel. I'm going to take you back to North Dakota, because we had such fun there, and because you still had all six wisdom teeth when we were there in June. I figured you would want to see photos of yourself just as the Lord made you.
You are an excellent driver (of golf carts). Even though Al Batt doesn't look so sure, Ann and Ernie Hoffert trusted you, and so did I. I would ride in a golf cart with you anywhere. I think that's about the happiest I've seen you in a long time, tooling around in a golf cart as the sun sank in the prairie sky, throwing your head back and laughing.
I love to watch you discover nature. You field a giant puffball tossed your way without squealing and dropping it. I like that. Maybe you wouldn't eat it if I cooked it up, but you get points for catching it.
You are a creative girl, a girl happy to leave mysteries for others to decipher. If there even are any others out here.
You are kind to animals (even ones that don't match your color scheme)
and to your little brother, and he loves you endlessly for that.
You are becoming a true connoisseur of food and eating establishments both humble and grand. And you show the makings of a pretty good cook, too. You're fun to be with
and highly attractive to strangers. Strangers have the best candy.
Almost most important of all, you're hilarious, and being hilarious is a prerequisite in this family.
Did I say you're beautiful, too? Oh, sorry.
Happy birthday, Beautiful. The white lilacs pale beside you.
Thanks to Ann and Ernie Hoffert for the magical gift of prairie places, their glorious gardens, and their friendship.
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