When i was younger i used to love looking through my moms old stuff from growing up. Her little white gloves that she wore to a dance, pictures from growing up, an old thimble, and a book of recipes, poems and letters from college. I loved it. I still love digging through the cedar chest and smelling that rich aroma and getting a feel for her life. I dont know why but a recipe always stuck out to me, wacky chocolate cake.
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