Sunday Afternoon Pie

This post is a week (and one day) late due to our house being overtaken by a general case of "yuck". Last week, while shopping at a big box store, my husband and I came to a table of baked goods. We had just eaten, so there was no reason for us to be so tempted by the sugary, carb-loaded goodness before us...but we were. I maintained all the will-power I had when we looked at the chocolate bundt cake and brownies and then he saw it --the biggest pecan pie I had ever seen. He wanted so badly to buy it, but I said "No! If you want pecan pie I will make you one!"

You see, pecans have a special place in my heart (if a nut is allowed such a place). I have memories of picking up pecans with my Granny at my grandparents house on the family farm when I was a child. We always had pecans in the freezer. I don't ever remember my mom buying any at the grocery store. When I got married, I got my own freezer bag of cracked pecans. When Blake and I were first married, as he left for work one summer day he made a comment about me making him a pie. I don't remember exactly what he said, but I did it. I made him a homemade pecan pie and he was so surprised! He loved it and a love of baking was born.

Over the years I have made pies for Thanksgiving or just here and there throughout the year when we needed some special dessert to hit the spot. Always completely homemade, crust and all. I am a messy baker and my pies aren't always pretty, but they usually taste pretty good and are a labor of love.

So on a cold Sunday afternoon, I sat in front of the television and watched a Hallmark movie while I shelled pecans for my pie. I have to say, it might be the prettiest one I have made in a while. Pie and coffee with my boys...just perfect. A bit of hygge -- a cozy moment surrounded by people and things that I love.