cherry pie

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
A moment of time during my youth - and a cherry pie!

Submitted: October 08, 2016

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Submitted: October 08, 2016

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(Cherry pies) 19:23 hours, Saturday, 27 August 2016 From the Mind of Doc

“…94 degrees with a heat index of 100 plus“, so drones the radio tuned to 84 WHAS as I park my Ford van in the Wal-Mart parking lot.

As I exit the van and the heat of a late August day surrounds me, I recall how “back then”, this heat would not bother me, yet now…, Sheeesh! Give me cool air!

I enter the store and begin my walk. Now, for those who are not aware, I walk. I walk a lot. Today, due to the heat, I am in Wal-Mart and I will walk ‘round and ‘round the store for a hour. My stopwatch is running and I begin my walk…

As I make my way thru the bakery, I spy cherry pies. Cherry Pies!! I live for cherry pies! And this story forms in my mind…

It is the late 1950’s and I live on a Shelby County, Kentucky farm. My mother is one very, very good cook and she loves to bake. There are cherry trees at the back of our old farm house and they are FULL of cherries.

The cherries are picked by my mother and some other family and friends and they make cherry jams, jellies, and… PIES!

Understand that we did not have air conditioners at the home which I lived. It got HOT in the house. The women, working with cleaning, canning and cooking, just could not abide kids under foot while they toiled. “You kids git outside and play!” they would yell as they “escorted” we young'uns out thru the old wooden screen door of our house. “Yall stay out there until we tell you to come in!”

Now I am a little fella and so are my companions. We are not necessarily “bad” children, yet we do like to eat and we do like cherry pie…

Back in the day, when pies where baked, my mother would take these ‘home made pies”, which she so artfully created, bake them and when they where finished, she would place them on a wide window sill to cool… remember now, we had no air conditioning and the windows where open to the outside and the air flowing in form the outside would cool the pies…

The three of us boys start seeing these fresh baked pies being placed on that window sill… what are starving five year olds supposed to do when there is food in the area? Well…

You could not stand at the window and reach the pies unless you where a big kid. There where no big kids, so we made do with what we had at hand… My two accomplices got on all fours and I stood on their backs and I could just reach the window sill... and the pies.

With our pie, we go behind the shed and consume it. My mother could sure make a great pie, so why not another!

Back to the window we go. Two on all fours. Me on their backs - reaching…

“What do you think you are a-doing young man?!“ Says one of the ladies helping my mother in the kitchen.

We hear that old screen door spring squealing as my mother or another adult female comes out of the house to check on us and off we go a runnin’ with sticky fingers and sticky faces from the first, and only, cherry pie…

(Authors note: "Mom, one day I will tell your great-children about your pies and your little blonde haired boy. Love you.")


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