Overextended in a joyful way

I've never baked pumpkin or pecan pie.  I love pecan pie, but so far no one else in the family will eat it, and I certainly don't want to be held responsible for consuming an entire one.  I mean, in a pinch, I guess I could swallow my pride and take one for the team, but what with watching my weight and wanting to eat well for the baby . . .

The pumpkin pie you couldn't pay me to touch.  As a kindred spirit on facebook commented, the best recipe is to open a can of pumpkin pie filling, dump it in the trash, and then move on to something actually worth consuming.  That last part is my variation on his recipe.

Turns out that my husband, son, sister and nephew like it, so that warrants a pie.  They can each eat two pieces, and that should get the thing out of my existence.

So I made both this year.  What else would you do, being still in the throws of first-trimester fatigue?  Now you know what I would do:  I love a culinary challenge and a little interest at Thanksgiving.

The pecan pie I'm excited to try, because it's actually a pecan-walnut tart--no Karo syrup in sight.  I had to make a carmel sauce (and since I've never done that before, it took two tries), and then I got to make the crust twice, due to some lacking equipment and some substitute equipment failure.  I could use a tart pan and some pie weights.

The big surprise was the pumpkin pie.  I expected it to smell like vomit, since it kind of tastes that way and always smells that way to me.  But no:  it was a lovely custard with honey, spices and a little half-and-half, and dare I say it? it almost seems appetizing to me.  My house smells gorgeous--like a lady's been busy in the kitchen making proper Thanksgiving desserts.  Maybe I'll try a bite, and magically all my hatred for that stuff will disappear.  A veritable Thanksgiving miracle.

For now, I'm just happy that it's done.  These days, I'm lucky to make it to 7 pm without being utterly out of gas and "resting" (or snoring) in my recliner.  I was a bit worried that I wouldn't make it past the pies, and there was still the turkey and stock to prepare and a bit of produce shopping to do.  And the floors needed to be mopped, because it's Wednesday and that's what we do on Wednesdays.  Plus, the floors were pretty gross.

Here it is, midday, and my chores are done.  No kidding.  I've got kielbasa and beans for dinner--zero effort at all, and a whole afternoon to kick my feet up and knit.  I've given myself a pass from working out today and tomorrow, because I think several hours of kitchen work at least equals an hour of Wii Fit and weights.

Ahhhhhh.  Basking now in my accomplishments, and zeroing in on that recliner.