March 22, 2011
When I returned from the grocers yesterday, son Doug was cutting up my fallen tree. He cleared the driveway and piled the brush. Since I managed to celebrate Ken’s and Kristanne’s birthdays with them, his older siblings, I invited him up for his favorite dinner to celebrate his birthday. The next thing I knew he was busy in my kitchen making blackberry apple pie.
I like to cook, but baking has never been a talent to which I could lay claim. Its really kind of annoying that my son makes a better pie crust than mine. He pre-bakes the bottom crust so the filling won’t make it soggy. He picked the blackberries last September and stored them in my freezer. He likes to put on a dainty lattice top.
HIS pies NEVER bubble over in the oven. Cooked to perfection, beautiful, and, he is quick besides. He can chit chat while working and never miss a step. I mean, I CAN make a pie, but cut up a tree? No! Two of my brothers and a sister came out for the celebration. I was having so much fun, I forgot to take pictures—except for that pie. After a certain age, birthdays are kind of meaningless if inevitable, but throw in a home-made pie and its an occasion to remember.