I heaved up my marble pastry board and set it carefully on the kitchen island next to my rolling pin and flour shaker. The board was a gift from my sister, and I’m always happy when I get to use it. Humming to myself I went to the fridge and pulled out a wrapped, chilled clump of pie crust dough. I picked up the flour shaker and shook out a thin layer onto the board, then unwrapped the dough and slapped it down in the middle. A light dusting of flour over the top and a few whacks with the rolling pin, and it was ready to be rolled out.
Freddie hopped up onto one of the kitchen chairs. “What are you doing now?” he asked, stretching his neck to look.
“Making pie!” I told him happily. “It’s pie season!”
You know how this works, but as always, a gentle reminder:
Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Goggies are dogs, too, and moggies are cats. Birds...are birds! Peeps are people. PWB Peeps are Pooties, Woozle, Birds People. No trolling the diary.
- If you hate pootie diaries, leave now. No harm, no foul.
- Share any and all pootie/woozle photos or issues that you would like .
- If you have health/behavior issues with your pootie or woozle, feel free to bring it to the community. We just may have someone whose experience can help.
- Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly.
- There are some pics we never post: snakes, spiders, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated.
- There is no such thing as stealing a photo around here, but if you would like a pic from the comment threads, please ask the poster. He/she may have a copyright to those pics. Many thanks!
- It should not need to be said, but ANY/ALL photos that imply or encourage human violence against an animal will be considered verboten! Whether it is “comedic” or not.
I started to roll out the dough carefully, mindful of cracks. Freddie watched for a minute then said, “what does that mean? Why is it pie season? Do you not make pie at other times?”
“Yeah, we eat pie all year. But Thanksgiving is next week. I just associate it with pie.”
“Some years I make a lot of pies. I sell them sometimes so I make a bunch. Not this year, though. I’m just making these for fun.”
“Thanksgiving,” he said thoughtfully. “Another holiday?”
“Yep! This one is my favorite!”
He frowned at me. “You said that about Halloween,” he accused.
“That’s my favorite too!”
He gave me a disgusted look. I could hear his tail thump against the side of the chair he was perched on.
I grinned at him. “I can have more than one favorite,” I said.
“I guess,” he grumbled. “What’s so great about Thanksgiving?”
“Well,” I said, folding the rolled out dough over the rolling pin so I could transfer it to the pie plate, “there’s family — your auntie is coming in from Denver and is staying with us.”
He ducked down in the chair a little. “She picks me up a lot,” he muttered.
“I know. She just likes you.”
He grumbled something I couldn’t make out. “What?”
“Nothing. What else?”
“There’s lots of cooking...”
“...and the best part — lots of eating!”
He perked up. “I like eating! What do you eat?”
I picked up my first completed pie crust and walked over the fridge. “We always have at least one big turkey...”
“...and lots of side dishes like mashed potatoes and yams and cranberries and bread. It’s the yummiest meal of the year and my favorite.” I put the crust in the freezer, then grabbed another clump of chilled dough.
“So you just cook all day and then eat all day?” he asked, skeptically.
“Pretty much! There’s usually either football or The Twilight Zone on tv and everyone stuffs themselves stupid and zones out.” I frowned to myself. “It’s a lot funner than it sounds.” I shook out more flour onto the board and plopped the dough in the middle.
He watched me roll out the new dough in silence for a minute, then asked, “what’s the point?”
“Well,” I said thoughtfully, “there’s this whole story we tell ourselves about the holiday being something that happened when the first European settlers arrived in America. It’s more myth than anything, but for our family it’s a good reason to get together and enjoy each other’s company while eating good food. It’s also a good time to reflect on what you have to be grateful for.”
I carefully fitted the rolled out dough into the clean pie plate while he watched, thinking over what I said. “You have a lot of holidays,” he told me.
“Uh-huh,” I said absently. “And you know what?”
“What?”
“Thanksgiving is just the beginning of the holiday season!”
He groaned, then hopped down and sauntered away, tail swishing. I laughed, knowing that in a few weeks I’d be right there with him. For now, though, I was happy, getting ready for pie season.
Happy weekend before Thanksgiving! I hope you are spending it relaxing before the big cooking day. I...am not. I’m working today, but will be along later.