Posted inHome life
Laurel swears she’ll never make another pie. Again.
Our Thanksgiving Eve tradition continues: cursing, confusion, and clutter fill the kitchen as Laurel labors to make an apple pie that, precisely 365 days ago, she swore would never darken her culinary door again. Yet, it did. We have been invited to share Thanksgiving with some friends. They are doing most of the cooking but gave us a few choices about what we could bring to the table. Salad. Rolls. Dessert. Laurel told them that she’d bring dessert. More precisely, an apple pie. And not a store-bought pie. A home-made pie. The stage was set for disaster. Last night I…
