It's usually my annual thanksgiving duty to make the apple pie. The tradition started with plain apple and has evolved into something closer to what Erin wrote about earlier this week.
So the whole pie thing started with my Grandmother Mimi- who on thanksgiving morning, ice water at the ready, would patiently wait for me to wake up so she could make the crust. I'd stumble downstairs in my pj's rubbing my eyes and she'd be there waiting for me mise en place at the ready. I’d start in on the apples and we’d watch the parade and she’d teach me all the secrets of pie crust over again every year. The tradition was not lost with her passing, although it has evolved with the addition of sour cream one year and trials with various apple varieties. It always comes back to the old standby recipe from a crusty half charred copy of the original Betty Crocker (it actually has the electrical coil char marks etched into the back) and lately I've thrown in an additional handful of cranberries and ginger as well, decidedly delicious. I can't help but think Mimi would be rather proud of my innovations over the years.
So, in the tradition of a dear friend who spends every week of her year feeling grateful.
This year I'm feeling grateful for the traditions that bring me back to the past.
For the traditions we continue to rewrite as we bring them into the present and the future.
For my husband who knows all the secrets of the pie crust like it's second nature.
For a growing family who will write their own traditions, whether you are ready or not.
And for friendships that inspire us to take charge of our own new traditions.
Hope you are all finding and adapting your own traditions on this day.