And on the 328th day, she did bake. And it was good.
It’s that time of year when we excitedly anticipate special things that are just around the corner, then suddenly in one short day, they're over. For me, it’s the day before Thanksgiving, and I’m baking.
I never understood it, even as a child. The women make a turkey, gravy, stuffing, dessert, set the table, decorate the house, and serve a grand meal while the men eat it. I never fell into the traditional role of domestic tasks such as this. My aversion to cooking came as a young girl when I tried to make pancakes for my family and instead, started a fire. I never really had the patience to follow a recipe, create from scratch, and make a huge mess in the process, when I could go to the store, buy the same thing, and keep the kitchen spic and span.
However, I do concede to the tradition for Thanksgiving and do my best to contribute to the feast. I bake 2 things: banana bread and apple pie (I suppose I haven't graduated to helping with the actual meal yet). It’s all from scratch, even the crust. If you don’t believe me, just look at my kitchen, it looks like it snowed flour all over the counter tops and floors…and me.
Eventually I may branch out. Maybe give pumpkin pie a shot. One day, I may even cook my own turkey. Ha ha ha ha! Okay, I couldn’t write that with a straight face. One day, I may help Eddie cook a turkey. But for today, I’m enjoying with pride and satisfaction the warm cinnamony smell of my homemade apple pie – with no fires set to my kitchen.