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Pie

This Thanksgiving, I offered to bring several pies from a local orchard.

"Would you like apple-caramel with walnuts?" I asked.

"Mmm," my niece said. "Apple, walnut, caramel!"

When I picked up the pies, they were still warm.

"Leave the boxes open to avoid condensation," I was instructed.

They smelled so good! I put them on the bottom shelf of our cupboard---safe from unwanted jostles or unintentional spills. Too safe.

Thanksgiving morning, an hour from home with another three and a half hours of driving to go, my spouse asked, "Did we ever pack the pies?"

Turning around wasn't an option. We stopped at a rest area, and I frantically placed one phone call after another. A friendly grocer answered. "We're open till four. And yes, we have plenty of pies."

We bought three---an apple-walnut, a pumpkin, and a coconut cream.

The food at my niece's was several shades of awesome---who knew turkey could be smoky, moist and wonderful? And there was more than enough dessert to go around. When I explained to her why the promised apple-caramel with walnuts wasn't there, she laughed. 

"You're not fooling me. You just wanted to keep it for yourselves!"

I laughed, too. Because, you know. Apple, walnut, caramel. . . Mmmm.

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