Thanksgiving: The perversity of pie

So I just went out to the market to buy ingredients for the pies I make every Thanksgiving: apple, pumpkin, and this, year, cherry. The market was filled with ready-made pies for about $13.00 each; my total costs for the ingredients for the 3 pies was $40.00. Obviously, the deep-seated urge to make pies is not about the economics or the time saved.
What I like about making pies is the sense of connection with those who came before me, and the luxury of having way too much home-made pie around to pick on for a couple of days. My mother made an amazing apple pie, and we use her recipe, tart and lemony with a piled-high top crust. The pumpkin pie is special because my family likes it, but we only eat it for this holiday. And the cherry pie is the wild card, the one that surprises everyone.
I’ll bake the pies tonight–2 pumpkin, one apple, and one cherry, and we’ll snack on the pumpkin pie later tonight and tomorrow before the big meal (like, for breakfast). Then we’ll eat the fruit pies for dessert, and have the rest of the pumpkin to feel remorseful about as we cut smaller and smaller slices off it into the weekend, until finally we will be thrilled when it is gone and we can all start the steamed vegetables diet.