Photo Credit at Roger Bultot
The Theory of Pie: Start in the Center
Jane pushed her fork through the buttery crust, separating each flaky layer with precision. “I always taste the center peak first, you cain’t hide your mistakes there.” The pippin was draped in syrup, cinnamon and an exotic spice Jane couldn’t quite name. The apple’s soft exterior yielded with the slightest crunch at its core.
“I reckon you know, I cain’t hire just anyone to work at The Patriots.”
Ariana adjusted her hijab and gathered her pastry tools, “Yes, Ma’am, I understand.”
“Well bless your heart, it’s cardamom!” Jane let the last bite linger on her tongue, “Let’s get started, daylight’s a burning. Rabbi Jacob needs babka tonight and Father Javier needs five hundred frosted crosses. Any ideas for Kwanzaa?”
I’m celebrating Christmas in Loreto, Mexico. The Mexicans have generously opened their arms to us with live nativity processions, a lighted boat parade in the harbor and the truest of Christmas spirit. In the spirit of giving I’m asking for your forgiveness. I’ve gone way over my word limit today. (It’s a FF dirty little secret that Perry does this all the time.) Although our exalted host Rochelle Wisoff Fields never pushes the word limit and still manages to write brilliantly every week.
I have to admit that this photo left be feeling bitter and perhaps a little hopeless, I wasn’t going to write because only bile came forth. However, I realized that is my own form of bigotry. There are many forms of patriotism. I am a patriot for the environment and for woman and children. I’m a patriot for inclusion and I will not be made bitter by anyone who calls himself a patriot but doesn’t understand that the best, messy, multi-colored parts are what makes American great.
For more patriotic prose go here.