Baking a pie

I baked a pie last night. After working approximately 55-60 hours this week, the fact that I felt like making a pie when I got off work at 9:30 pm last night came as a bit of a surprise. In my family, we all eat lunch together on Sundays. As my siblings and I reached our teen years and family dinners where everyone was present became less frequent due to scheduling conflicts, my mother decided it was time to begin a new tradition. We all eat lunch together on Sundays. Period. You may bring a friend to lunch if you like, but if you aren’t there, you’d better have a doctor’s note. And if you don’t have a doctor’s note, you might as well just leave the country. So now you know the real reason why my brother and I both spent a year in Spain. We missed Sunday lunch and had to flee the country. Anyway, in times past, we have all pitched in with lunch. A couple of us would cook; those who didn’t would set the table, put the food away, wash the dishes, etc. But recently it seems that the oneness has fallen upon my mother and she is doing all the work (unless we’re barbecuing- then my dad cooks). So I’ve decided that I could at least bring dessert. I came to this conclusion several weeks ago, but if I recall correctly, I have only brought dessert once… I’m trying, though.

This is why I baked a pie last night. I’m really glad I did, too. I enjoy cooking. There is something comforting about making a pie. Rolling out the crust, carefully transferring it to the pie tin, mounding up the layers of slivered apples, cinnamon, and sugar, and topping it all with another crust. I have often said that cooking is the only artistic outlet through which I express myself. In fact, cutting a design in the top of the crust in order to allow the pie to vent is essentially the height of my artistic ability… Oh, wait. I take that back. I can draw a pretty cool-looking stick man.

When people ask me how I learned to cook, I usually say that it was a combination of my mother, cookbooks, and a lot of practice. My mom doesn't like to cook, but I always have. So I taught myself a lot. I think that one of the reasons that baking pie is comforting to me is that it is something I remember doing with my mother. I always use her recipe for pie dough (it's the best). Even last night, as I was rolling out the crust, I could remember my mom telling me not to work with the pie dough more than necessary or it would make the crust tough, and showing me how to neatly remove the excess dough from the edges of the crust.

I don't feel like coming up with a title today - deal with it.

The past week has definitely been interesting, if nothing else. Saturday I moved up to Renton with the help of my family and a couple of friends. After we had everything unloaded, we got some dinner and then everyone but Jessica and I headed home. Our cousin Jennifer, who lives in California, was in the area for a conference and we were planning on getting together. So Jess and I had about half an hour to get ready before we left. Needless to say, nothing was really unpacked. Well, Jen was in Everett. I knew that was north of Seattle, but I didn't realize how far north it was. Renton is just south of Seattle and it ended up taking us 40 minutes to drive to where the conference was. Ugh. We finally got there, though, and it was really fun to see Jen again. She and her husband were leading worship at the conference, so I got to hold their 3-month-old daughter during the whole service. Yay! After the service was over, Jess and I went to a Denny's nearby with Jen, her husband, their baby, and their band. We hung out there for a little over an hour, then we had to leave to go pick Laura up at the airport. Her plane had been delayed, so she was supposed to be getting in around midnight. The original plan was for us to stay at my place that night and drive to Centralia in the morning. However, since we didn't have time to settle in at all, and I had forgotten a few key items (a shower curtain, for one), we decided it would be better to drive back that night. So after picking up Laura, we went back to my place to grab our stuff, and headed for Centralia. We got there around 2 am. So lots of sleep was had by all. Not.

After church on Sunday, I rushed home to throw my things into the Jeep (I'm driving my brother's Jeep right now) and head to Seattle. I had an interview at Starbucks at 3 and I wanted to make sure I had plenty of time to get up there. It was a good thing I did, too. There was a surprising amount of traffic for a Sunday, especially going through Tacoma - it took me about 20 minutes to go 3 miles. Yuck. Unfortunately, the A/C in Jonny's Jeep needs recharged, i.e. it doesn't work. As it was a hot day, the almost-2-hr-ride was therefore Not Fun Times. I got to Starbucks at about 2:45. They gave me a free drink, the interview went well, and I was asked to come back for a second interview on Tuesday. My mom came up later that afternoon with a bunch of stuff that I greatly needed (the aforementioned shower curtain). Then we bought some groceries and came back and watched a movie. She stayed the night with me then left the next morning. Tuesday morning I went in for my interview and got the job! Then I had cable and internet installed that afternoon. The rest of the week has been extremely uneventful. One might even say boring. Yes, that seems to be the appropriate term, boring. I can't wait to start working. Then I will at least have people to talk to. During the last few days, I don't think I've spent more than 10-15 min per day talking to another human being. It's such a weird feeling. I did start talking to myself yesterday, though. That didn't take long. I go in tonight to fill out my new hire paperwork, then I start work tomorrow. And not a moment too soon. You know those people you sometimes see talking to themselves? The ones who sound like they're having a conversation with someone, but as you look around to see who it is, you realize there isn't anyone? Yeah, I know who you mean. I saw one at the mall yesterday. Really? What a coincidence.