My sister and I love Thanksgiving. It’s our favorite holiday of the year. No pressure, no gifts, just bring a bottle of wine and a pie.

I think we broke the record last year with eight pies for about fourteen people. It’s getting harder every year to do the sliver of each pie on your plate.

When the weather is nice, the ladies of the family go for a walk after consuming the actual meal and  before the pie. My aunt and uncle live in town, so we walk a couple of blocks, over the bridge of the Apple River (and every year someone comments on the giant bobber- art piece), and turn at the dam to walk Grease Pit Road. That’s the back alley behind the Dairy Queen, Subway, and Supper Club (which I think is Mexican this year?) where the hot, salty fat  permeates the atmosphere. It’s actually a little sickening after all that turkey, so we walk fast.

Rounding the Baptist church at the end of the block, we head back for home and pass by my mom and dad’s old house. It’s the house they bought right before I graduated from college and sold right after my sister got married. In that time, they repainted all the rooms, put in new carpet and vinyl, refinished all the cabinetry, landscaped, added a garage door, and put in two huge picture windows in both the living room and family room. They sold it to a guy from Iowa. When the guy bought it, he was married with four kids. Shortly thereafter, he  divorced his wife who moved back to Iowa, ripped out most of the landscaping and started the kitchen on fire. His dad ended up taking over the place. It eventually went into foreclosure. I don’t know who owns it now.

Even though Mom and Dad have been in their new place for well over a decade, Mom still can’t go past that house without sighing.

You can’t make other people appreciate the time or effort you put into a particular project. They either do or don’t. Sometimes, self-satisfaction is the only satisfaction you’re going to get. Believe me, as a validation junkie, that’s a hard pill to swallow. The only time that’s not hard is with pie. Not everyone digs into your pie? Whatever, take the rest home. Be thankful with pie!

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