Boxed Cake Mix

Bless it. Bless it Forever.

Over the summer, my ex-turned-best-friend Becca came to visit for my birthday. It’s become an annual tradition, an excuse for her to spend a few days at the farm and for me to exploit her free labor. If you have a farm and host city friends, you get the dynamic. They get a taste of the simple life—chilling out with gardens and baby animals—you get help weeding. Win win.

This year she helped with everything from whacking nettles to harvesting buttnutts* to fence repairs, and I got a little reminder of how much easier a farmstead is when two people are splitting the effort. It was a lovely present, her presence, and I truly cherish the time we spend together talking shit and girls and feelings, but then she put the icing on the cake…

Literally.

When my birthday proper came around she insisted on baking me a cake. She took out the tote bag she had brought with her baking supplies, pans, and ingredients and set it on the kitchen counter. Among them was a box of chocolate cake mix.

I was so …