So here are some things about making a blueberry pie. First, you should not get greedy and want too many blueberries in it. I always do this. I follow the recipe on the back of the “Minute Tapioca” box which calls for 4 cups of blueberries … this never seems like quite enough. So I used about 5 and a half cups or so … maybe 6. However many were in 2 pints of blueberries.

If you are going to be greedy and use too many blueberries because 4 cups doesn’t seem like quite enough … DO NOT tip the pie plate when you’re pulling the aluminum foil off the bottom. At least don’t tip the plate for very long. Because here is what will happen: the fruit will spill OUT. Into a puddle. In the pan which you have carefully lined with said aluminum foil so that you won’t have to clean it (only now the aluminum foil is wadded up in your hand and the pan is full of a puddle of blueberry pie filling).

If you have done all of the above already … be sure that 18 years before this, you married someone calm and steady like LightHusband who very calmly and steadily says to you, “No problem, I’ll hold up one edge of the crust with a spatula and you can spoon the puddle back in. I know just the spatula … it’s that baby one hanging right there by your right hand.”

So I remembered to breath … and be kind to myself … and followed his instructions. And one side of the pie looks a little funny, but it will still taste good.

So I decided to make a blueberry pie this morning. My youngest brother and his family are coming tonight. He swears they’ll be here by dinner. I doubt it. But maybe. My mom and dad will be back here too. My dad loves blueberry pie. Okay … my dad loves pie … of any sort. Okay … my dad loves food … of any sort. Especially if I make it. I was in my early thirties before I realized that as the only daughter, I was the princess in our house … my dad hid it really, really well. And I’m pretty oblivious. Of course, I was married by then and couldn’t take advantage of the situation except in retrospect. Which was probably a good thing, because I tend to the devious. So, now when I’m with my dad I bake pies or cakes or something. He likes it and I enjoy his reaction.

I watch LightGirl and her father’s relationship and enjoy it. It’s been fun to watch it develop. It’s hard tho to keep myself out of it. I don’t do such a good job of that. One of the hardest things as a parent is to understand that your children are not you. Especially the children who are the same gender as you. That their relationships with their parents are different from yours with your parents … because your children have different parents (you). In fact, everything is different. Which seems like it should be so obvious and it is … and … yet … it isn’t. And then you have to start to watch them make the same mistakes you did and cringe knowing how hard it will be to learn those lessons. Wishing you could just pass that knowledge to them, like a piece of blueberry pie.