It’s March, and I’ve been itchin’ to cut the grass. All winter long, my trusty yard hat and my mower keys waited for me. A week or so ago, I put on the hat (it looks really dorky, but it keeps the sun out of my eyes and the bugs out of my enormous, bug-attracting hair). I cheerfully walked to the shed to rev up the old riding mower. As I sat down, I shuddered more than a little, because right then, I noticed a really gross DEAD MOUSE on the shed floor to my right.
Thanks to this mouse, I was eager to get the mower going and get out of there. So, one eye on the mouse carcass and one on the mower, I started it up.
Or tried to.
No dice.
I fiddled around with all the stuff I pretend to know about mowers–choke, throttle, neutral, whatever. It wouldn’t start. After some embarrassing lawn mower scooching dance moves, I was able to help the thing roll backwards down the ramp. Whatever was gonna happen was NOT gonna happen near Mousy McDeadstein. Whew. Now my similarly dead mower was at least out in the open.
So I put out a cry on Facebook stating that anyone who could get my mower started would be paid in pie.
Enter my friend and co-worker, Julia. She brought over this awesome thing:
It’s a battery charger. I know that ’cause she told me (and ’cause it says so on the front). That cool box did the trick. It also reminded me of my Dad. He knew how to fix stuff, for sure. It seemed he always had the right tool–or at least knew where to get it. He would have been pleased that nobody paid a repair person for a job that could be done at home.
I did pay with pie, though. My grass is mowed, and my friend was just plain nice. So I made her a Lawn Mower Pie.
In case you’re wondering, “Lawn Mower” in this context means “Apple.” It is one of the easiest pies to make, and it smelled terrific while baking. I sure hope Julia and her family enjoyed it. Thanks again!
Now, about that 3.14159265…
Tomorrow is March 14, otherwise known as PI DAY. Get it? 3.14? It’s a math joke, see….
Anyway, here’s what happened…
My teenager–the dear–got into the car a few days ago and let me know that she volunteered me to make pie for school.
“Pie?” I said. “Sure! What’s it for?”
“Well, my teacher said we were gonna celebrate pi day, so I raised my hand and said you would make the pies.”
“Oh. PIES? How many pies?”
“Not sure.”
“How many people are in your class?”
“Hmmmmm….”
She wasn’t quite sure of that either, so I emailed her teacher.
Pies for 20, coming right up.
Don’t panic. I didn’t have to make 20 pies. I decided that four would be about right. Here’s what I’m taking to middle school tomorrow morning.
Cherry Pi
Chocolate Chip Cookie Pi
Apple Pi
Chocolate Pi
At this point (just before seven in the evening), two pies are completed. It’s gonna be a busy evening–and morning!
Here’s my favorite (before it was baked), so far:
Not sure which will be the favorite, but I’m bringing whipped cream, too. That makes every pie exponentially better, according to my calculations. There, now don’t I sound “mathy?”
fortyandtwentyblackbirds 