Thanksgiving morning, I was up before the birds, not having slept the night before. I’d been trying to figure out a way to get through to Walt and finally hit on the perfect solution while I sat in the kitchen, working on recipes.
Walt’s favorite dessert in the whole world was blackberry, strawberry, and blueberry pie, with whipped cream on top. We grew all those berries on the farm, and Mom had a stash in the big freezer. It wasn’t on the pie list for the day’s festivities, so it would definitely stand out.
I got to work.
By six o’clock in the morning, I’d prepared everything necessary for the day’s feast, while people filed in and out to get coffee or food of some kind before heading out to the farm. Work didn’t stop just because it was a holiday.
Casey ran into the kitchen and hugge
