Pi Day Musings

   Since today is Pi day, I made a pie, lemon meringue.  That's the second pie I've baked this year.  I like pie, but ordinarily eat it only at Thanksgiving. I don't think I've ever ordered pie for dessert in a restaurant, except maybe something like chocolate éclair cream pie to share with a fellow diner. 
   I think of pies as something that should be homemade.  They're easy to make, even though I only do so once or twice a year.  Lemon is my favorite, Dorothy's chocolate a close second.  Every Thanksgiving I also bake a mincemeat pie and a pumpkin pie.  Most in my family don't care much for either, so I fell into the habit of eating the mince and the pumpkin for breakfast. 
   Last T'day, I made 4 pies and transported them to Schaghticoke for the family feast.  After dinner, I retrieved the leftover mince and brought it home, but somehow missed out on the pumpkin altogether.  Pumpkin pie is far from my favorite, but ever since the holiday, the fleeting thought  that I hadn't had any pumpkin pie the whole year would go through my mind.  I felt somehow diminished. 
     So one day last week, I stepped out of my lifelong routine and baked a pumpkin pie, a full-sized one.  I served it for dessert that night, and on the morning of the third day, with only one slice sacrificed to another, I ate the last piece.