Apple Pie Time

I don't particularly like going to the grocery store. Okay, I hate it. But a friend is having a birthday tomorrow, so I wanted to make a pie. His favorite just happens to be my favorite -- apple. While I don't make the crusts, I do use real apples for the filling. Hmm.

I ran to the store and then puttered around the house a bit. Then I got into my comfy clothes and set to peeling those apples. I was dismayed to find the the first one quite brown in the middle. Yuck. I tried a second. It was equally disturbing. Well, since I wasn't going to make my friend a pie with bad apples, I got dressed and went back to the store.

They were fine with giving me my money back, but they didn't seem overly concerned. My thought was that if there were two like that there might be more.

So, I hopped to another store and found the apples and hightailed it home. Now the filling has been made, the crust is browning, and I get to smell that yummy cinnamon and apple smell.

I mentioned to someone today that I was making this pie. She said something about me liking to bake. I don't mind baking, but it really isn't one of my favorite activities. It is the giving of the things I bake that I get pleasure from.

I guess I get it from my mother. She was always baking and we were always taking the teachers treats. I take treats to work on occasion. I've taken them to my doctor's office out of appreciation. My counselor's office really rates as they sometimes get to pick the time before what they want me to bring.

To me, it is a sign of caring that I take the time to bake for these folks. That probably comes into play because I think it is one of the ways I felt cared for by my mom. The brownie fairy would just happen to come while we were playing in the basement. My mom would make elaborate birthday cakes when we were younger. She had a book that told how to cut them to make different shapes. One year I chose the log cabin. It stood up and everything. And as we got older she made us each our own pie (not that they weren't to share) but the holes in the crust were made into our initials.

Do, I like baking? It's okay. What I like is doing something for someone that says, "I did this just for you, I value you."

So, Happy Birthday Mark. (You can leave him a message on his blog if you want.) Thanks for daring to start Crosswinds. I am thankful for you as a pastor but even more so as a friend.