Pie Squared

This one is not for the compost pile. Dave told me to take a picture of this pie as it has taken only eight years of marriage to produce such a gastronomical miracle. Fortunately, my father is visiting (on his way through to the field where he will canoe, look at rocks and live in the wilds with two undergrads and one masters student); so, we were able to use his camera as our battery is still defunct and my efforts to buy one in town have proved futile. Grandpa Nick took all the pictures and, judging by the favourable outcome of my portrait, I have decided that all pictures of myself from now on will be taken from an overhead perch. As Hannah said, "It's like a secret code, Mom. You don't even look pregnant anymore." Or, as she really likes to say, "It doesn't even look like there's a bun in your oven!" But, there is a pie on top of it. And I am more than chuffed that I am behind both the pastry and the filling. To top it off, miracle of miracles, the pie tasted quite good and was eaten in one sitting. Let's see how long it takes me to make another one.I chose to frame myself in pie as I can't seem to delete the second photo. There's bound to be some irony in this but my mind is too muddled to think clearly. Happy August: the countdown is really on now.