A month into fall and we’re just barely creeping out of the summer weather zone here, deep down in southern Mississippi. After months of oppressive heat, it is finally nice enough to reasonably expect to spend some time outside. And I am slowly acclimating myself to that new reality, five or ten minutes at a time, in an old rocking chair Troy has set out for me in a shady spot of our backyard.
This summer was the longest summer that I have ever known, and I am eager to break away from it and move on to things that are a bit more my speed. Like pie — this pie. This pie that reminds me of fall and New England and everything that I miss in my life.
I’ve said it before and here I am saying it again — let there be pie.