Pie a Day Give Away

Sometimes when I begin to bake my “pie of the day” I don’t know who will be the recipient.  Today, as I prepared the crust and filling I felt that I was waiting for “inspiration” or some kind of message.  It seemed as if the pie itself was uncertain as to who it would be taken to.  As I finished the pie and popped it into the oven the owner of the pie was still unknown.

I began to think of the people I still wanted to thank and began jotting names down.  And then I wrote down “Andy Burt” and I knew I had the answer.  Andy was my son’s teacher for three years in middle school.  He was steadfast and honest and willing to be himself with his kids everyday.  He helped the ones that needed it and even those that thought they didn’t.  Remember, in middle school you think you know it all.   A Mark Twain quote comes to mind, “When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around.  But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished by how much he’d learned in seven years.”

My son was fortunate to have Andy as his homeroom teacher.  Andy cared and showed it but he would also call his students out on behaviour that was not acceptable.  And while parents have to do that all the time, sometime it takes a person outside the family to really have an impact.  As a teenager, you may think you are fooling your parents, but when another adult looks at you and makes you think that you can be somebody, well, maybe you can begin to think it too.

Today I honor another teacher that helped my son on his journey to the person he has become.  Andy, I am forever grateful for the effort that it took and hope that you know what a difference you made.

Did you ever wonder where your ideas have come from?  Especially those ideas that hit you suddenly and  in an instant you decide on a course of action to take? Are these thoughts really our own or do they come from somewhere outside ourselves?  Perhaps, if we are open to them, we can be a part of something wonderful.

A while ago, I was working as a baker and noticed that we had a lot of leftover bread in the freezer.  I remembered that there was a shelter nearby and so I packed up the bread and drove it over to them.  As I walked through the door the receptionist asked what I needed.  I told her that I was bringing her some bread.  She stared at me for a moment.  I asked if she needed any  and she said,”Just a moment ago I told the coordinator that we did not have any bread for lunch and you walked in with a boxfull.”  That felt just a little bit strange but it also felt pretty cool.

Today while I was making another pie I thought of Judy, the nurse at Ashland High.  Earlier this week my son had gone to see her with a case of Poison Oak and she had helped him out.  I thought of how many kids she sees in a day and the range of problems that she helps them through.  Most of all I thought how thankful I am that our kids have a compassionate, trained nurse available at the school.  I’ve said it before, we are lucky to live here.

When I called upon Judy to deliver the pie she was definitely surprised and asked why I was giving her a pie.  When I told her how much I appreciated her dedication to our kids she was truly touched.  I was very pleased to be the one to bring her a gift and happy that I was in the right place to “catch” the idea.

This is the spring of my son’s senior year in high school.  Do you remember your last year of high school?  What was that like for you?  My son is a good student and is doing well… but still there is a certain level of stress associated with this time.  Almost  everyone who greets him asks about his future plans.  He fields questions such as “Where are you going to go to college?” daily.   It is a question that asks (or seems to ask) so much more.

It was not so long ago that my son was in 5th grade at Helman School.  It was the same year that Briscoe School was closed and those students were parsed out to the remaining elementary schools.   It was not an easy time for the families that had loved Briscoe;  they had to leave their school behind and acclimate to Helman.  It did not seem fair to anyone.

To say that the group of students in my son’s class presented a challenge for a teacher would be an understatement.  These kids were bright and energetic and ready for a challenge.  Into this arena stepped Mr. D.  He was a new teacher.  I don’t know if he was really prepared for such a group but somehow he won their hearts through his steadfastness.  He was calm and didn’t raise his voice.  He was cool in a way that they wanted to be (think ultimate frisbee).  He was real in a way they were not.

Today’s pie is for Mr. Joe Dunbrasky.  Thank goodness for men like him who choose to teach elementary school.  They are so appreciated for the lessons that they teach and the mentoring that they do.  Our kids are so much better for their guidance.  Thank you Joe for your efforts on our children’s behalf.

Several years ago, my daughter Alexandra took a photo-journalism class at Southern Oregon University while she was still a senior in high school.  Her instructor for this class was Dennis Dunleavy.  Alexandra did nothing but rave about Dennis – he was encouraging, talented, dedicated.  I was happy to see Alexandra so engaged and she was thrilled to be treated as a professional; not just a kid who could write well.

I met Dennis later that year at his exhibition at the Schneider Museum.  Displayed were amazing black and white photographs of people from Latin America. The images were haunting, crisp and clean.  They had captured the craziness of war: beautiful children holding machine guns as naturally as if they were holding a toy.   What an incredible juxtaposition of innocence and violence.

Today I arranged to meet with Dennis and talk to him about my blog project.  He had some idea of what I was doing and knew that I wanted to get some professional advice.  Who better to turn to for help?  Dennis has been blogging for seven years now and is a great teacher.

We met at the Boulevard Cafe.  Dennis and I chatted about my blog and he gave me advice, hope and encouragement.  And, of course, I gave him a warm pie.   He said he’d like to learn how to make a good pie crust.  I told him that it was easy to do – and he made me feel as if what I do with ease might actually be hard for someone.  My wish for today:  that he learns as much from me as I hope to learn from him.

It was a busy morning at my house.  First I chose to make a loaf of bread for my neighbor, Armo, to take on his trip to Seattle.  Then I whipped up a batch of walnut raisin bagels for breakfast.  And then I had a few pies to make for a dear friend for her dinner party.  All these tasks took a while to accomplish – and I hadn’t even begun to make my “pie of the day” yet.  But I had been thinking about who the recipient would be.

I first met Heidi many years ago at church.  I was not yet a member but she was always nice to me and found ways to include me.  One of my favorite memories of that time is when Heidi suggested that the women of the church perform music that was created by women that were held captive during WWII.   The documentary about these women is called “Song of Survival” and tells the tale of hardship that the women endured and how they found a way to “turn a situation of despair into a heroic symphony of triumph.”

And so began our musical journey.  We learned to sing songs without words; our voices mimicing the orchestral instruments of the works of Beethoven, Schubert and Chopin.  It was very challenging and incredibly beautiful.  I felt very lucky and blessed to be a part of such an undertaking.  On the night of our performance, when the documentary was shown to the audience, an old friend who just happened to be in town that day and had come to me in the choir, found out that her recently deceased brother was the narrator of that very same documentary.  How amazing!  And how perfectly wonderful to be a part of that convergence.

To Heidi – Thank you for your part in creating such a terrific performance and a lasting memory.  I hope that we can continue to find ways to create harmony and beauty in our lives and our community.

Be assured I did not think this pie making plan through in all it’s permutations.  I did not look for reasons for this “idea” of mine to make sense.  It is totally impractical and perhaps just a little bit crazy.   Who in their right mind would undertake such a task?  Maybe no one.  But this idea woke me from a sound sleep one night and I had to believe that it was a good idea.

“Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!”

— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Who can argue with this thinking?  But you may be wondering, why did she choose to make pies each day?  Perhaps you think that something like soup is more basic and necessary and might be more appreciated.  To this I would answer, “Yes, perhaps you are right.  Soup is much more practial… but pies are special.  And if your goal is to let someone know that they have touched your life in a meaningful way, then making them a pie is the way to go.”

Today I wanted to thank a woman who has been my veterinarian for many years.  Dr. Ann Swartz is sort of a traveling vet.  She holds office hours but also travels to homes to help folks take care of their pets.  Ann has come to my home on more than one occasion to help us with our various pets: Grover (our pound puppy), Basil (our very old cat) and a bunny or two.  She has always been gentle with our pets. I appreciate that she has always been forthright in her explanation of the problem and also in our treatment options.  She has helped me through some very difficult times by showing us patience and understanding. To thank her, I have made her a quiche – so that she would have a chance to take it easy tonight.  We truly appreciate your dedication to our pets.

Sometimes you just have to thank someone for all the help that they have given over the years.  Today, the person that I want to thank is my friend named Jary.   He runs the produce department at the local grocery store.  He works too hard and is always on the go but if you need something produce related, he is the man to talk to.  He knows what is going on in the market and can give you the latest scoop on all things produce.

It’s good to have a friend who can help you when you need it; and as a caterer it is really nice to have Jary on my team.  From what I hear, he is an exceptional bowler as well as being a great human being.  The guys that work in his department are always friendly and helpful and I know it is because they are treated right.

Here’s to Jary and his team: thanks for everything you have done.   Enjoy this apple-blueberry pie – you all deserve it.  Muchas gracias!

My plan for today was to get up early and bake a pie for the coordinator of the reading program at the elementary school where I volunteer.  First problem, I slept late.  That meant that there was not enough time to bake a pie by the 8:30 start time.  When I arrived at the school, I found out the that coordinator was absent – so that meant that it was okay that I slept in – I just needed to rethink my “pie recipient” of the day.  It didn’t take long at all to come up with another “pie person.”  But there was another problem – I could not reach him.

I went back to the drawing board and thought about the meeting I was going to attend this evening.  I have always brought food of some kind or another to this group – and I decided that today that food item would be pie.  I followed a recipe that had been given to me by a baker named Joy many years ago.  Before long I had two chocolate cream pies in the fridge ready for my meeting.

I bet many of you have attended meetings over the years and I wonder how often have you had food at these meetings?  Sharing food seems to me to be central to getting work done.  Sometimes folks come to evening meetings without having eaten dinner because of one reason or another.  How nice would it be for them to find a simple snack available?   Might it help them stay alert and focused on the business at hand?  Probably.  And I think it is only reasonable to offer something to people who are already giving so much.

Tonight I think my committee  members were pleased and surprised to receive a slice of Chocolate Cream Pie.  It was definitely out of the ordinary – but that is okay.  At times it is nice to exceed expectations.

Those of us of a certain age may remember a cartoon character named Little Audrey.  She was very cute and had a headful of auburn hair.  About 15 years ago at the Ashland Library I met a real live Little Audrey.  She was helping me check out books for my two children – who were running around the bookshelves at the time.  I was mortified by their behavior and hoped that this nice librarian would not say anything.  She had a cute way of looking sideways at my kids as she stamped my books (yes it was a long time ago!)   I whispered my apology for their antics.  Audrey looked up from the books and said “They’re just kids!”  I adored her from that moment.

I hadn’t seen Audrey for a while when I heard that she lost her husband of 55+ years.   When I visited her at that time I brought her a quiche.  I just wanted to offer a small gift of love at a difficult time.   It has been about six weeks since that gift and today I called Audrey to ask if I could visit for a moment.  She seemed uncertain and asked if I could come at another time.  I told her that I would only stop by briefly, and still she hesitated.  Finally I told her “Audrey, I baked you a pie.”  To this she replied, “Well, come on over!

When someone dies it seems that everyone comes around to help but that moment soon passes and then the world expects that you get on with your life.  I remember when my Mom died I was sort of stunned.  There was so much to do and get through.  And somehow in that time I had a feeling that if I just made it through the difficult days that things would somehow “get back to normal.”  It took a while to realize that normal was never going to happen again.

This is just my way of saying that it’s important to keep in touch.  We all need to be reminded that we are loved; that we are important.  Whose day would be brightened by your call?