Yes, yes. First— it was the pandemic. Then the long summer with nowhere to go. Certainly, the kids never departing the house for school added to the extra cinnamon roll or seven.

So, I radicalized myself. I stopped eating anything with flour or sugar. You got it. The White Stuff. This hurt my family more than it hurt me, mind you. I had gotten particularly good at Sourdough Sundays. The baking and the “research. 

At first, it was white-knuckle city. Driving by Shipley’s DoNuts involved the focus of a bride at a buffet. But I persevered. I toughened up. I even, gasp, invoked food planning.

After a brisk 28 days (but who’s counting), I can honestly say, I’m more bright-eyed and centered than I was during this summer’s pudding immersion therapy. I sleep better. I’ve shed some husky chub around the mid-region. But now, we are on the sleigh ride to New Year’s, and that means facing the Thanksgiving Pie.

And let’s be honest. It’s plural. Thanksgiving pies. Show me a home with just one Thanksgiving pie and I’ll show you a mature toddler.

Anyhoo, back to pies. They are coming. And I find myself on daily walks, after my delicious flax and oats breakfast, musing the perennial question, “Will I eat them or not? And, if so, can I rein it in?” And if not, what then? In other words … to pie, or not to pie.

In the end, I decided fresh fruit will suffice. We should all bolster our immune systems in these times of crisis. Pump up on Vitamin C. Feast as nature intended! Plus apples, peaches, blueberries, rhubarbs and lemons are perfection.

Especially in a pie.


By Cate Berry an Austin-based children’s book author and mother of two.



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