browned butter triple nut pie
I knew what the subject of today’s post was going to be. The meaning of Christmas to me. A religiously confused, complicated young woman. About how I interpret its magic and its universal message. There would be Christmas pie.
But this morning (as I write this it is Saturday, December 15th) it’s just not possible, for I am dead today. Drained from a tragedy that affected no one I know. In a town that I had never heard of. I try not to comment on current events on this site. I have other outlets for that. And although deeply afflicted today, the girl who talks too much has nothing to say. There are too many without that holiday this year. Without that spirit. I need time to heal.
Saturday is baking day. I planned to bake today. Gifts, actually. I can’t do it. You would think taking time, just me and my dough, would be cathartic. It has been through loss and sadness in the past. But this feels different.