“When can I bake something, Grandma?” I asked. “I’m old enough to bake by myself. I can read the recipe and measure things.” “Yes,” said Grandma, “I believe you could. In fact, you would probably do a better job than I did the first time!” Grandma laughed as she reached for the cookie pans. Ma was going to have a birthday, and I thought it would be a good idea to have a surprise party for her. I talked it over with Pa, and he agreed that it would be nice. We could have the party in the front yard. There were lots of trees and soft grass, and it would be an excellent place for all the neighbors to gather. How this could be accomplished without Ma suspecting, we didn’t know, but we were determined to try. Fortune was with us, for on the morning of the party, Ma discovered that she had to make a trip to town before she could finish the shirts she was sewing for the boys. “Mabel,”
