March 27, 2014.

I made an apple pie.

I know, so domestic.

My hope is that it is yummy. 

My fear is that it’s just an O.K. attempt.  

Let’s face it, I used apples that have been around for a few months, (I think I bought them in mid-January.) But with Mom’s undying commitment to never “waste” anything, especially food, I had to find a use for the shriveling red fruit. 

I used crust in a box from the refrigerated section of Wal-Mart. 

It’s not the crust that Grandma Andersen used to make (or “Little Granny” as she was known to many). Her recipe for the flakiest crust ever was committed to memory long, long ago, with a pinch of this and a sprinkle of that. She took that recipe with her when she died at 98. My sister actually manages a pretty good version of it. But it was, indeed, the flakiest and tastiest crust…ever.

The pie.

Grandma used to bake all the time.  I have very fond memories of coming home from school, getting off the bus in the afternoon, smelling the made-from-scratch fresh donuts, pies and bread as soon as our feet hit the driveway. There were loaves of fresh white bread. There were sugared donuts, holed donuts and jelly donuts, overflowing with her homemade jam. And when she made a pie, there was extra pie crust sprinkled with sugar and baked on a sheet pan. I’m convinced she made more dough than any pie could need, with purpose, so her grandchildren could enjoy that sugary treat fresh out of the oven.

It is truly amazing how immediate and clear smell memories are. Enough to make my mouth water just thinking about them now.

Mmmmmm.

Harry woke up saying the alphabet, well…actually singing the alphabet.  We put together an alphabet train puzzle last night on the living room rug. Each letter is a train car, connected to the engine, of course. Each train car carries an animal whose name begins with the appropriate letter.  There is one exception.  The makers of the puzzle couldn’t seem to come up with an animal for the letter U, so there’s a baby tiger under an umbrella (the Mommy tiger riding in the previous  T train car, holding the umbrella over her cub, while it follows its Mother along the tracks).

Alphabet train.

He sang the alphabet…and sang the alphabet…and sang the alphabet.  So proud of himself, and of course, garnering applause from Mommy and Grandma each and every time.

Harry quickly changed gears, asking for his “camera,” shouting his need to me while I was upstairs in the bedroom. He had been using the puzzle box cover as a camera the night before, walking around taking pictures of everything he could find. He had finally relinquished it right before bedtime books, so I brought it downstairs after dressing and gave it to him.

“Gluck. Gluck. Gluck,” Apparently that’s what taking a picture sounds like to Harry. Every time he pushed the imaginary button while holding the puzzle box in front of his face, he made that sound.

“Gluck.”

Then, he became a train, chugging from one room of the house to another, his hands poised at his ribs, churning in the motion of metal wheels. “Chug, chug, chug, chug…”

Then, after hearing a news report about the construction worker trapped on the building in Houston, rescued by firemen minutes before a large wall collapsed in flames, he became Fireman Harry. 

“I’ve got to save this little girl from the tree,” he shouted to his Grandmother. I’m not sure why there was a little girl in the tree, but rest assured, Harry rescued her quickly.

From the alphabet, to the camera, to the train, to the fireman…all in the span, this morning, of at most 20 minutes! 

My son has the most incredible imagination and the most uninterrupted, sustained energy.

Tomorrow, I will suspend my domestic duties and get to studying.

I’ve got that big (second) interview next week and I need to be prepared to impress.  I need to do some research, study the website, gather some ideas of approach and some specifics. Have some original visual ideas to suggest. And read all those articles I've been saving about how to ask questions during an interview that practically guarantee you'll be hired. 

Ha!

This is vague I realize, all in an attempt not to name my potential employer, but you get the idea.

Wish me luck!

As I was just reading over this entry again before posting, I gently passed my fingers through Harry’s hair and around his head in one of those loving Mommy gestures, “You’re the cutest,” I said.

“Yep!”  was his reply.