Pecan Pies

Yesterday I made two pecan pies, cursed my very existence, cursed at the pies, and then figured out how to cool the blessed things after cooking, and woke up at 4:30 AM to put them in the refrigerator. Thankfully my husband had made meatloaf to keep me alive after work and before the baking, and it worked. He left me alone in the kitchen and in the house with the pie making, as he knows how I cook. It is with utter disdain, because I never think that I am good enough to cook a thing like how anybody else in the whole world can do.

Please forgive the strong language about the pie-making, but cooking really does bring out the suicidal tendencies and self-loathing in me in quite an unsightly way. This is why my husband usually does the cooking, because clearly I am bent. Usually I can maintain the sweetness and light as my gift unto the universe after the suicide attempt so long ago (even that was lame, though, please excuse me) and I do really try to stay positive on a daily basis.

But damn if I can’t cuss out some eggs and Karo syrup and especially some dark brown sugar that I have to measure in a gd measuring cup. You should see me though with the measuring spoons. I’ve at least got a grip on those. And I can scrub a baking dish after dinner when I clean all this up before bed. Thank goodness my husband had chopped the pecans before this all started and he had left the house to leave me alone with my bad attitude.

So, yes, I have sympathy for all of us afflicted with a temper, bad manners, and heartsick tearful habits. Praise the Lord I’m not drinking anymore, not even when I cook, and thanks to my husband for informing me that I’m really not cute in certain affectations, even though it makes me curse even more. At least I only mentioned on Facebook that I had made two pies for the holiday tomorrow, and self-edited the story that I saved for here, because nobody really seeks after my writing, struggles and pain. But yes, people can change and they are given every morning to begin again.

#HappyHolidays #CussingonThanksgiving #CookingStress #StillHere

The pie was good when we ate it today with family! Nobody knew about the tantrum except my husband. Amen! We’ve got the other pie to share with my side of the family tomorrow, without the baking story, because my aunt and her friend are visiting.

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