Cooking
I was in a baking mood this afternoon, so I whipped up a couple of pies, two pumpkin, the third, a cranberry raisin concoction. This last one was from a recipe my dad had sent me years ago. If I remember correctly, it was somewhere in the middle of a long letter he'd written while stranded on a train out of New York City back home to White Plains during a huge blizzard in February, 1977. He was getting his Master's at Union Theological Seminary, part of Columbia University, and had gone in that morning, only to discover that the blizzard had caused classes to be canceled. The letter was ten or twelve pages long, describing the train ride home, the other passengers, and more. If I remember, it was also in this letter that he described his classes, and one professor who made an impression on him as being especially intelligent and thought-provoking - a man Dad predicted would most likely go far. (The professor was Cornel West; Dad was right in his assessment.) Getting back...