It was a Thanksgiving celebration and always a memorable family tradition. If you peeked in the kitchen window you would observe a harried woman, vigorously folding buttery pastry dough in butterfly fashion for pies. Tiny droplets of perspiration stood out on her forehead as her hands started to ache. This was not unexpected, as the reality of another holiday baking season was predictable. Finally setting the dough into the fridge to chill she sat down and enjoyed a quiet cup of tea.
The Bag Lady 
Oy it’s a droll ordinary chore but I hope it was all worth it for her and kin
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I’m sure it was
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