Clara's birthday was on Tuesday.

 

She turned four years old.  But not until she opened her presents - if asked how old she was before, she would would inform you that was she was still three.  Where she acquired that idea, I do not know=)

 

Unfortunately, we were rather miserable with a cold, which turned into a fever on my part towards the afternoon.  My sweet little Clara spent the greater part of it at the sofa where I lay, leaning over me and patting my head with most loving solicitude.  I was almost reconciled to being so miserable=)

 

We love you so much, Clara!  You are a constant joy.

 

 

 

My little cowgirl

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(BTW: In this rather famous picture, we are whipping the cream for Clara's birthday cake in the traditional manner - shaking it violently in a lidded cup.  In this case, we (ahem) got carried away, and ended up making butter instead=)

 

 

Well, a fourth birthday calls for a celebration... and now that we are well, a celebration is in order!

I am now off to undertake the construction of a proper birthday cake - with butter inside instead of on top=)