the month of here {day24}'s in the pie

Thursday, November 24, 2011

i pull down my cookbook, all ragged and worn.

pages spill out of a binding that barely hangs on.

i scan the last pages for that  recipe i love and i double each number.

i bake for a few.

it's thanksgiving here and the dough stretches thin beneath the rolling pin my grandfather made.

it rolls well, with the lard and the butter peeking through.

i lift it off a floured counter top and rest it gently in the scalloped plate;  fork holes in the bottom and fill it up with foil and weight.

it bakes in the oven while i whisk together butter and eggs and syrup and sugar.

it smells good in this kitchen.

i grate up the chocolate, toast the pecans and let it all settle together and bake up in the heat.

i bake for those faces that have filled up my heart.

i visit two homes today.

on a day where family for us is so very far away, we are welcomed in and made to feel at home.

how can one not be thankful for something amazing like this?

he walks me out to the van, mr. bob does. 

i'm almost out of gas and not sure where the nearest station to fill up is;  he hands me his phone.

take it, he says. i'll get it back when i see you next...

he gives on his birthday.

i make it to the chevron on fumes.

but he would have come if i needed help.


we walk into a home warm and smelling good.  

and i sit near the windows with liv on my lap eating food that is indescribably good and i lean back for a moment and listen...


we are still somewhat new here,

new enough to not have history in these city limits yet, 

but He has provided hope and families who have welcomed us in.

families to bake a pie for,

families to laugh with,

to share the heavy things with.

one of my two pie plates sits nearly empty on my counter top.

tony works all day and eats warmed up thanksgiving fare...

he pulls me onto his lap and places his head against my heart.

and we are home.

we are here,

and we are thankful.

and i give thanks on this twenty-fourth day of this month that finds us here...and the realization that there is no other place i would rather be.