A piece of junk mail in 1993 changed my life.
Now, I’m pretty sure if I had been living alone at the time, that piece of mail would have gone straight into the junk mail folder — otherwise known as the garbage pail in 1993.
But it didn’t, because Anne had just moved into the mobile home I owned on a country lot north of Brockville.
I don’t know exactly when that piece of mail showed up, but for some reason Anne tucked it away. She could only have been living there a few weeks when October 2nd rolled around — my birthday.
I was turning 20.
We were a long way from home, young, and there certainly weren’t any moms showing up at the door with a birthday cake. But Anne had that recipe card that had come in the mail.
Quick Cherry Dessert, it was called.
It was a dense almond cake with sweet cherry pie filling baked into it in random little blobs. A dusting of powdered sugar went over the top.
And that was what she decided to make for her then-boyfriend.
I came home from work that day to the wonderful smell of something baking. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure I even knew Anne was good at baking yet.
I was already in love with Anne, of course, but I suppose that was the day I fell in love with her baking too.
The cake was different and wonderful. Heavy, but not too sweet, with that almond flavour and those little pockets of cherry throughout.
I told her that was it.
She needed to make that cake for me every year.
And she pretty much has.
There have been a few misses, I’ll admit, but only at my request. Maybe we were away, or for some reason I decided a key lime or lemon pie was needed instead. But that old Quick Cherry Dessert is still known around here as Dad’s Birthday Cake all these years later.
And interestingly, our son Ezdon, who really doesn’t care much for dessert at all, now requests it too. (Note to Rebecca.)
Same recipe. Same pan. Same cherry filling. Scoop of ice cream on the side.
And usually enough leftovers that I can keep eating birthday cake for the better part of a week, which, come to think of it, may be one of the reasons I like it so much.
Today, they tell me I’m 53.
That seems a little hard to believe, but apparently the math checks out.
So did that piece of junk mail really change my life? Well, maybe that’s being a little dramatic. But for the last 33 years, it has added one more little piece of happiness to my life every year.
And truth be told, I wasn’t completely sure my birthday cake was coming this year.
So I figured I’d better bring it up in the newsletter... just to be safe.
I’m fairly confident it’ll make an appearance now.
Farmer Rod