The Tale of The Apple Pie

The tale begins with a phone call from my sister-in-law, Lindsay. She was telling me about a pie making class she wants to attend by a famous lady who starting baking pies after her husband died because it was therapeutic for her. She then baked pies for other people who lost loved ones and then somehow famously ended up making pies for Hollywood starts. So the story goes.

A few days go by....

My sister Angela called and told me about her no sugar- honey -apple pie she just made.

My anticipation for a making an apple pie mounts.

I then very romantically started dreaming up my weekend plans to find an apple orchard and then have my house smell like autumn with a beautiful apple pie baking in the oven.

Rude Awakening Numero Uno:
I live in the middle of a wheat field...there is no blooming apple orchard within 120 miles of me.
I went to the local store and bought some granny smiths on clearance.

Rude Awakening Numero Dos:
I kinda forgot that I need ANGER MANAGEMENT COUNSELING when I bake any sort of pie because pie is pie and the crust part hits a nerve. I imagine beauty and something you could put in a cookbook it is so perfect....and I get "My 3 year old could have done better than what this pie looks like" pie. 

Just as I am experiencing heightened amounts of frustration and desperately trying not to use any expletives while shaping a very deformed crust, Avila chooses to come cling at my legs and let out high piercing screams....for fun.

I bent down and said, "Please go away, I'm trying to make an apple pie!"

Swallow and breath....take deep breaths....take really deep breaths....(someone could have easily mistaken me for going into labor)

Okay...so I give up on the pretty looking, blog posting, worthy pie and get the dang thing in the oven...at least it will taste good.

err.....

The stupid foil around the edges trick...those things never stay on...anyways....take foil off...bake last ten minutes....

If you remember in ten minutes...which turned into 20! (More suppressing of cuss words)

Well, it was browned, but not burned, slightly dry, but still delicious. Of course I was taken aback by my very large burst of emotion through the whole experience.

And so, the pie was eaten, both humble and apple.

The End.




Just Kidding....

Here She is....the Pie of Truth....I now have a whole other way at looking at myself. Thank you Apple Pie.