Freezer Lemon Pie

Today started as one of those I-don't-know-why-I-feel-so-bad days. Listless and irritated, nothing was satisfying. The one thing I hoped Howard and I would do today--hang shelves--didn't happen, and he didn't seem to mind.

"You could hang pictures, instead," he suggested, not paying mind to my irritability, and the result of his comment is that I became more irritated. I could hang pictures, he suggests, as if he didn't care if pictures go on the walls or not, as if he didn't have a say where they go, as if he wouldn't mind if I put cat pictures on every single wall of this apartment.

And then an ugly part of myself wondered: "What's the point?" Certainly, I have given up the fantasy of painting--the bedroom a rich plum, dining room colonial blue, and the kitchen blood red. But if we are here for just a year, what's the point? I do want to make this place a home, I feel driven to do that, to make it mine, ours, really, but then this listlessness drifts in and mutters: "So what?"; it yawns and asks: "Why bother?"

But I don't want to give into the lethargy, which is a kind of death. So I will make a pie and I will hang a goddamn picture and a calendar. I will hang them like twentieth century criminals.

So I went into the kitchen and pounded two nails into the wall. Up went a Grumpy Cat calendar and up went artwork over the sink. Then I took the rolling pin and pounded a package of graham crackers. Bam Bam Bam! until they were crumbs. Considerably less tense, I poured in organic sugar, a gift from Kate, who when I thought of her seemed to lend me some of her gentleness. "What Would Kate Do?" my supervisor at work asked. "Remember that. Remember her generosity and the way she gave people the benefit of the doubt." Kate is gone now, on a road trip, and then Florida, and she has become the Patron Saint of work.

From then on, the day got considerably better. Just making something pulled me out of my funk. I did some writing for the Tumbleweed Diaries, and later on Elise came to visit, bringing me my mixer. I finished up the pie and put it in the freezer. It was a hot day--supposed to be 90, but didn't feel quite that, so Howard and I picked a cold-sounding pie that required a minimum of baking: lemon freezer pie. Instead of a traditional pie crust, I opted for a graham cracker crumb crust, which just spends 8 minutes in the oven. Lemon pie is just evaporated milk, frozen lemonade, and sugar. I'm almost embarrassed to write that. But it's delicious. Howard, Elise, and I had slices and then we played cards. It was a lovely evening, such a difference from the start of the day. I do think creating has a healing power.

And making oneself at home in a new space is important. Having a friend over to share pie is a good start. This week we will work on hanging pictures and shelves.