Peach Pie

I ate two pieces of pie for dinner tonight, and I don't regret it.  

Yet.

Do you want to see photos of my pies?  

Now, I'm not a photographer with a fancy camera, and the first two photos were taken with Shawn's phone, so the quality isn't great, but here are the pies!

The first pie is ready to go in the oven!  

I have such hope and am unaware of my sad mistakes.

The first pie is done!  See that crust?  

Well, it's luckily still yummy, but wasn't as fabulous as I was hoping it would be.

The second pie.  

See how the crust isn't overdone?  See how the filling actually fills the pie?  

See all that creme fraiche?  And the streusel?  

We haven't eaten it yet, but I can't wait!  We want to be kind and share our creation, but the real question is, who do we share such a perfect (looking) pie with?

Domesticated Pie Maker

Well Blog, today I made pie.  I made some pumpkin pie around Christmas time for something or other and mentioned that I needed pie weights, so Shawn, being the awesome listener that he is, bought me pie weights for Christmas.  And proceeded to not do anything with them for months, despite Shawn gently hinting ove and over that he wanted me to make pie.  I like to bake, you see.  He cooks too, but I love to bake and when I cook, I want to cook big things.  So, my friend and former roommate, Laura posted a pie she had made on facebook complete with the recipe.  And I remember that pie.  I have very fond memories of eating that pie.  And while my baking/cooking skills are no where near Laura's I decided to be brave and adventurous and make a pie.  A Peach Pie.

Before I could be adventurous and make the peach pie I had to make creme fraiche.  Now, that's adventurous too.  Who lets dairy products intentionally sit on the counter for 24 hours?  Then, I had to make streusel.  That turned out to be harder than the creme fraiche.  (Just because I over mixed it the first time and it turned into more of a dough than a streusel.)  And I had to par bake the crust. (I'm so glad I know that term now, I like throwing it out into conversation, like I'm some official pie maker or something.)  But eventually I got to put it all in the pie shell (including the peaches of course) and put it in the oven and bake it.

And it turns out I made a couple of mistakes.  Mistakes that I was warned about by the recipe maker.  I was warned not to use a deep dish pie plate.  So, I used the pie plate we got for our wedding.  Which it turns out was a deep dish pie plate.  So, the filling didn't quite . . . fill the pie.  And the second warning was that I might want to cover the endges of the crust with foil while it was baking so as to not burn them.  And I ignored that warning too, and since the pie wasn't full enough and the crust was burning, there was a lot of crust to burn.  Oh well, it still tasted great!  And the bonus mistake was that I had too many peaches, so tonight I went out, got me a shallow pie plate and made a second peach pie.  And yes, I covered my crust too.  I got to par bake again and to make streusel again.  It was fun.  Again.  But here's my question, how are two people going to eat TWO PIES?  We'll need help.  Any volunteers?

Oh, and PS, making pie just remind me of the Pie Maker.  Remember that show?  Did you love it too?

Dear Blog,

I know, it's been a while.  How have you been?  Have you missed me?  I've missed you.  I've thought about you a lot too.  The truth is, I'm a little intimidated by you.  I wan to write wonderful posts, but I get scared that I'm not up to wonderful posts.  I was hoping to make this a place full of brilliant thought and reflection about what it means to get married, to join your life with another's.  But I haven't known exactly how to put into words everything that I'm feeling.

Shawn and I, we've been married nine months now.  Can you believe it?  I can't!  I am still giddy just looking at my ring and thinking he's mine now.  And a lot has happened in those nine months.  And I've wanted a place to record all those things that have happened, like the time our house got invaded by may flies, or the time we made pickles and I sliced my fingers open.  I wanted to share those things with you dear blog.  But then I thought, you don't want to hear about those boring parts of life.  You want great thoughts, introspection.  Well, Blog.  I think you DO want to hear those things, and maybe sharing those things will bring about some of the introspection too.  And I want a place to look back on my first year(s) of marriage and remember what it was like to be a newlywed.

So, what do you think Blog?  I promise to visit you more often, and you put up with my self-indulgent posts about making raspberry jam and trips to Wyoming.  OK?  Is it a deal?

Ok.

Love you, and see you more often.

Annie

Do You Know How Much I Love You?

Annie: (while Shawn is getting ready to leave for class) Do you know how much I love you?

Shawn: I love you too honey.  (Pause, looks at me, realizes he didn't answer Annie's question, decides to play along.) I mean, how much do you love me?

Annie:  I love you THIS much (stretches her arms out wide with fingers outstretched as well.)  See how even my fingers are stretched so that my love can stretch beyond my fingers and never end? (moves her arms so they are stretching towards Shawn.) And now I'm shooting my love across the room to you.

Shawn: (shuddering as if he's been zapped by Annie's love ray) I can feel the love!  I love you too!

Among many other reasons I'm glad I married a man willing to play along with my silliness.

Now I have to go mow the lawn, because that's how much I love my man.  I'll mow the lawn for him AND pick up the dog poop.

Scooter the Booter

Shawn and I will often joke that if I had been allergic to his dog we would not be married today.  I am allergic to dogs, well, most dogs, but Scooter is a magic dog.  And as a magic dog I have no allergic reactions to him.  As a girl who is allergic to way too many things this is the best news ever.  I love dogs and have the hardest time NOT petting a dog even though I know it will end with me sneezing with red watery eyes wishing I could go to bed.  But, not Scooter.  Like I said, he's a magic dog, the one dog in the world I'm not allergic to.

And having Scooter in my life has been one of the best parts about being married.  I expected the transition to owning a dog to be hard.  I expected Scooter to show resentment for my presence and thus his reduction in attention from Shawn.  I expected Scooter to willfully disobey me, and so far none of that has been true. Except maybe the willfully disobeying me part.  Scooter greets me each night when I get home by racing to the door, jumping up on me (as soon as I've put my coat away) and then barking as if he's telling me all about his day.  When I work from home one day a week Scooter cannot get enough of my attention, and though I find it mildly annoying I also secretly love it when he climbs on my lap while I'm trying to work on my laptop.  Scooter and I have a routine in the morning of playing catch or hide and seek while I get ready for work.  

Scooter is also the most sneaky dog I've ever met.  He'll quietly saunter off when he knows you aren't paying attention and get in the garbage can or sneak chocolate off the couch or gum out of my purse.  And I'll yell "Scooter!" and then he'll come up to me with his head hanging low and look at me with his big beautiful brown eyes and I find it impossible to get mad at him.  My heart melts and I know I should discipline him, but I can't help but to smile and pet him.  I find myself apologizing to the dog for getting mad at him.  

While I was worried about Scooter and making the transition with him, it's actually been the easiest transition of our marriage.  

What about you?  What did you expect to be hard?  Was anything easier than you anticipated?

Lovell, WY

I’ve now traveled to Lovell, WY twice in the last three months. I know where the grocery store is, where three different churches are, where all three motels in town are located, and how to get to the cemetery from the aforementioned churches.  About a month after we were married Shawn’s grandmother passed away and we took our first trip to northern Wyoming for her funeral.  Shawn and I were already planning a trip to Lovell so I could meet her.  She was 103 years old and had not been able to travel to Salt Lake for our wedding.  Grandma Walker was a major influence on Shawn deciding to become a teacher, so he wanted me to meet her.  Unfortunately we didn’t quite make it in time, and our already scheduled trip was for her funeral instead.  

They asked all of the grandchildren (which now included me as well) to sing a simple hymn during the funeral service and as I stood next to Shawn singing that hymn I realized that I had no clue how to be his wife.  I didn’t know how to help him mourn, or if he needed to mourn.  I realized how different a husband was than roommates, and men are from women.  With my roommates I could be there, offer a hug, offer to listen if they want to talk, give them chocolate, hold their hand while they cried, and all would be appreciated.  I was there physically for Shawn.  I pulled him into my arms when he found out about his grandmother passed away, but no tears came.  I asked about her, but didn’t know how to get him to open up, or if he even wanted/needed to open up.  I didn’t know if I should offer chocolate, he’s far less emotionally dependent on chocolate than I am.  I watched him when he saw his father at the viewing, as he practically crumbled with tears into his fathers arms, and part of me wished that I could have been the one to hold him up when he finally broke down, but at the same time I knew that that was not what he needed from me.  I stood by his side, I held his hand, I told him what I loved learning about her at her funeral, but was it enough?  This is part of the disadvantage of only knowing each other for just under a year when we married, we hadn’t been through everything together yet.  But, I decided, that didn’t matter.  Shawn has never expected me to be a perfect wife, just as I don’t expect him to be a perfect husband.  We’ll learn together how we mourn and how to support one another through the good and the bad.  We’re learning how to celebrate together, how to support each other through stressful times at work, how to know when to back off and when to push, and I love that about marriage.  I love learning as much about myself as I learn about Shawn.

As I type this I am in the car somewhere between Lovell and Salt Lake on our way home from the second funeral in Shawn’s family.  This time it was his Aunt Yvonne who passed away.  She had been sick for a long time and her passing was not unexpected.  We debated about wether or not to come up for the funeral, and I was really hoping Shawn would decide not to come.  But, I also know how important family is to Shawn and that’s one of the major reasons I love him and married him.  And when he decided it was important enough to take a day off of work and travel for 16 hours in a car in the space of 48 hours I knew that I wanted to support him in this.  I know that what I wanted was much less important than what he needed.  


This was a different funeral for Shawn, not as hard or emotional as Grandma Walker’s had been.  This funeral was more about family, mourning with those that mourn and comforting those that stand in need of comfort.  This was about keeping those ties in Lovell strong.  And even though driving in a car for hours on end is not my favorite way to travel I’ve really enjoyed this trip.  I am more sure of myself as Shawn’s wife.  I learned more about Shawn’s family, I saw the farm where his dad grew up.  I laughed with his Aunt Nancy and Uncle Ned, and learned of the incredible love the Walkers of Wyoming have for my husband.  I wouldn’t trade those experiences for anything.

Name Changing

I was raised by a feminist.  My Mom probably would not call herself a feminist, but she was in college taking women’s studies classes when I was growing up.  She believes in marriage strongly, but had definite ideas about equality for women.  She is a devout Mormon, so some might say that conflicts with the ideals of feminism, but most importantly she raised me to believe that anything was possible for me.  She raised me to believe I was equal in every way to my brothers and to all men.  She raised all of us as hard workers in the home.  My brothers did as much to clean the home as we girls did, and I never had any idea it would be any other way.  

I think it was because of this that I never had any idea that changing my name when I got married would be anti-feminist in any way.  My sister hyphenated her name when she got married.  I was just a teenager.  I’m not sure if that was the feminist inside of her, or because her husband had a common last name and our maiden name is more unique.  In fact, my brother-in-law even offered to change his last name to ours when they married, but that never happened.  I never gave it much thought, I just always planned to change my name.  So, I never expected it to be hard to change my name!  Not the actual process of changing my name, although that was a challenge too, and one for another post.  

I’ve been a Harrell for 32 years, and I always felt that taking my husband’s last name would be a sign of us creating our own family.  And while it does, part of me feels the loss of my own being when we created that family.  I love Shawn, I love being a family with him, so I’m surprised at feeling this loss!  Each time I changed my name, at my bank, at work, on my Drivers License, I felt excited to be more and more a Walker, but also felt the loss of the Harrell part of me keenly.  In church when they announced Annie Walker would be giving the closing prayer I thought, “Who is Annie Walker, I thought I was giving the prayer!”  When I change my voice message on my work phone I always have think “Annie WALKER, Annie WALKER” and still it comes out as Annie Harrell half of the time.  I didn’t expect it to be hard, I was excited to do it, so it was surprising to me that it has been hard!  

Most of my friends married when they were younger, in their early 20’s so I wonder if there is a difference marrying slightly older.  Is it because I created a career as Annie Harrell?  Is it easier when you don’t have as much to change?  When you don’t have to tell clients in emails that your name has changed?  I have changed everything from my Social Security card to my Delta Sky Miles card.  There’s one hold out.  My passport.  I have stamps for England, China, Mexico and Canada in that passport.  But Shawn and I plan to travel, so I know I’ll have to get a new passport.  I wonder if maybe, when that final piece of the puzzle is done, will I feel complete, like I’ve taken all the steps and am officially a Walker?  Will I get a sense of accomplishment or will I mourn the final loss of Harrell as my last name?  

What about you?  If you are married did you change your name?  Did you feel a sense of loss of identity?  If you are single have you thought about changing your name?