The pie

Todays writing may not seem to be very spiritual , unless one considers marriage as a sacrament to be renewed and refreshed each and every day.

The Pie

Since my husband retired he has been busier than ever. He arranges barn dances, feeds the homeless, mows the garden, cycles miles and paints the sheds and studies hard. We wonder how he ever fitted in going to work. He rises at about 6 or even earlier – a legacy of working in very hot climates, when he took language classes before breakfast  - something I have managed to overcome.

Today as I descended the stairs at a more civilised hour I could hear the sound of chopping from the kitchen. John makes wonderful bread. Last week he produced 5 jars of marmalade. Today he was making his first ever apple pie with fruit from the garden. The biggest bowl we own was full of apple pieces gradually turning brown. I rushed for the lemon juice – found only a drop so used grapefruit instead – but does it really matter if apples are brown?

I had breakfast, made tea and took mine into the office and settled to work.

Then came muffled cries for help of various kinds – the sound has to hit several walls if John is speaking in the kitchen and addresses me in the office.

‘Have we got a baking tin?’ This I interpreted as ‘Please get me a tin out of the cupboard’ – I ignored that. Then came– ‘Do the apples need sugar?’ ‘Do I use granulated? Is this granulated?  How do you make pastry?  The answers were, ‘Yes, No, and a brief explanation. He’s made pastry before.

All this from a man who, when I was very ill for a prolonged period, cooked dinner every day for the whole family as well as getting two small children off to school .

I just went into the kitchen. He has completely emptied the fruit bowl. The compost bowl is full of very extravagant peelings. The flour is scattered with a fine snow of plain flour – he nearly used self raising, but changed his mind. The work surface indicates that he didn’t flour it before rolling out his pastry. But he is a grown man. He can clear it up.

I’m waiting now for ‘What temperature should I put it on.’

But it will be a beautiful pie we will all enjoy - although it may take us several days before it becomes just a crumbly memory.

But have I got a man out there or a boy of nine?  Definitely a man , but one who seems at present to need lots of contact  - lots of support – as he ventures into the new world of his future.