Two years in a row, I have made a pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. Two years in a row, it has been a flop.

Part of the problem, perhaps the MAIN problem, is that I don’t like pumpkin pie. When I LIKE something, like for example brownies, I WORK AT IT. I make that recipe again and again and again, sacrificing my own figure to make sure the recipe is truly as good as it was the last time I made it.

My heart isn’t in pumpkin pie the same way. And because I don’t like it, I don’t think, “Hm, this is okay, but what it needs is more/less _______,” or “No, this recipe is no good because ______.” I just think, “For pumpkin pie, this isn’t too bad, or “Even _I_ know this pie is no good.”

I don’t remember what I did last year, because last year I had the flu and was doing things like forcing myself to go to the kitchen and do one single step in a recipe, and then going back to the recliner to spend 10 minutes gearing up to do the next step. Maybe I hallucinated the pie, now that I think of it. Either way, it was no good.

The year before, I got one of those refrigerated pie crusts that comes folded up in a box and you have to make sure it comes to room temperature before you try to unfold it or it’ll break. I got that because that’s what my mother-in-law used, and my mother-in-law was big on making things from scratch, and she said the pie crust in a box was better than the pie crust she could make. And I had had samples of several of her pies, and they were quite fine pies. I might not in general model myself after my mother-in-law, but since Making a Pie Crust From Scratch is not an option (no, not even if it’s really easy) (no, seriously, I’m not using a rolling pin ever again) (NO MEANS NO), it seemed like a good second-best.

Then I made the filling recipe from the can of pumpkin. I figured it would be likely to be pretty good, because they want to sell you the pumpkin.

Anyway, it was awful. The crust was not good, though it seemed more like an underbaking issue, not like the crust itself was no good. The spices in the pie tasted off, and it seemed kind of goopy. I usually eat a tiny slice for tradition’s sake, and I couldn’t get through it. Paul likes pumpkin pie, and he said cautiously that it was “not inedible.”

All of this sounds like I’m working up to asking for a recipe, and if you have a recipe that works with a pre-made crust I’d be glad to hear it. But what I’m ACTUALLY asking is for reports on the decency of pumpkin pies purchased pre-made from grocery store bakeries and grocery store freezers. I was buying ice cream the other day and I saw pumpkin pies just IN THE FREEZER. But are they good? And if so, which BRAND is good? If I liked pumpkin pie, I would buy one of each ahead of time and try them all, just out of pure scientific curiosity.

Or, our grocery store has a bakery. And they make pies. The pies are just sitting there on tables, ready to buy. But are they GOOD? And can I buy a pumpkin pie the day before Thanksgiving and have it be good the next day? And I see there’s a big sign up in the bakery asking people to PLEASE make sure they order their Thanksgiving pies before November 21st, so perhaps that option is for next year anyway.

So that is what I am asking: If you have purchased a pie from a grocery store freezer or from a grocery store bakery (especially from a freezer, since it may be too late for bakery), how did it turn out? Was it yummy?

Do you remember the awful woman I’m volunteering with? First I’d like to beg you not to feel sorry for her or worry that she’s just shy or whatever. My descriptions haven’t been very detailed because I’m nervous about that (I’m going to come back later and delete a couple of my examples below), but you will have to TRUST ME that I am familiar with social awkwardness and the range of comes-across-badly-but-is-from-a-good-place human behavior, and that armed with that information and experience I am not steering you amiss. She is not at all nervous. She is not at all awkward. She is utterly, relentlessly, inappropriately confident. Picture someone you know who is incredibly bossy and self-centered, who takes no one else’s thoughts or ideas into account, who thinks everyone else is stupider than her, who thinks she knows a better way to do everything, and who has to have everything her own way or else you’re way stupider than she thought you were. THIS IS NOT SOCIAL AWKWARDNESS. She is the OPPOSITE of bumbling or shy or awkward or blurting out something that comes out the wrong way. She is the OPPOSITE of wants to fit in. She is the OPPOSITE of going home and kicking herself for saying something dumb. I DEMAND YOU REFOCUS YOUR PITY. (Mine. I want it. Give it to me.)

Okay. So do you remember what I wished for, the last time we discussed this? I’ll just go ahead and quote myself, since I have a quote-indenting button right here in front of me:

I DO wish, however, for several other parents to make subtle remarks over the next few months that let me know (without it turning into back-biting, because that feels wonderful at the time but comes with a nauseating hangover) that they don’t like her either.

I will just say this: I got my wish. One of the other volunteers said (tactfully, delicately, and only when someone else brought it up) that the woman in question has been “stirring things up” all over the school. That she went to the principal and demanded a key card like the teachers have, so that she doesn’t have to be buzzed into the school building like other parents do. [Example snipped.] That she went to the cafeteria and demanded that they get their food from a different source, one that would more than triple the cost of school lunches. [Example snipped.] That she doesn’t like the assignments her child’s teacher was giving, and asked for them to be changed, and SENT IN COPIES OF HER VERSION OF AN ASSIGNMENT FOR THE WHOLE CLASS.

Immensely satisfying, as you can imagine, and I hope we can avoid the temptation to keep discussing her when she’s not there. I’m wondering how long she (the woman) is going to keep this up, considering that so far the answer to each of her demands has been “How kind of you to take an interest, and no way in hell”?

I just finished Fin & Lady, by Cathleen Schine. I don’t know if I’m recommending it to you, or if I’m just telling you about it.

(photo from Amazon.com)

I enjoyed reading it, but I was very conscious of Reading a Book. One main character (named, improbably, Lady) is a Perfectly Cool Girl; it was hard for me to accept her as real. She’s just sooooooo pretty and witty and always says the right thing and everyone loves her.

Lady is the guardian of her half-brother Fin, who has recently lost both parents. While reading about how this arrangement worked out, I thought:

1. Either this author does not have children, OR

2. She does have children, and her children are fundamentally different from my children, OR

3. She does have children and her children are of the same species as mine, but she is nevertheless as susceptible as any Hollywood screenwriter to the Cute ‘n’ Convenient Child Character: a child who fits into a single woman’s life like a witty, fulfilling, adorable handbag

Fin is the kind of child who would be played by an older version of that kid with glasses in Jerry Maguire: he’d come into a room, listen intelligently and appreciatively to an adult’s witticisms and wisdom, feel tremendously grateful for all that adult has done for him, make an adorable or thoughtful or wise-beyond-his-years remark, and then leave the room for seriously DAYS without needing anything from the adult.

I didn’t feel this way while reading the book, exactly: I too enjoy the fantasy of the Surprise Left-to-Me-in-a-Will Child Who Works Out GREAT Because I Am So Extremely Awesome. But I did keep realizing I was reading that kind of fantasy. It didn’t feel to me that this is how things would actually go. So I guess that’s what I’m saying: it’s a good fantasy, the way an romance novel that ends with the deliriously happy wedding is a good fantasy. I thought it was a good STORY, and I ENJOYED reading it, but I didn’t believe it. It would make a good movie.

Right before that, I read The Valley of Amazement, by Amy Tan.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Any complaints I have about this book are my own damn fault: if I don’t know perfectly well by now that Amy Tan books make me want to leap off a cliff and hope to fall as fast as possible, then I don’t know how to end this sentence. But I DID read it, and I DID end up feeling like there was no point in the continuation of the human species.

And, simultaneously, I thought, “What? This makes no sense.” For example, a woman has her child TAKEN from her. And then she thinks, “Welp, guess I’d better find a job.” She has powerful friends, but she doesn’t use them to help her get the child or anything. What is going ON? It’s a hundred years ago and in another country, but was there seriously NOTHING she could do about it? And if not, we’re back to opening our arms eagerly for the rapidly-approaching rocks below, so really there’s no right answer here. Either life really is that terrible, in which case it’s the cliff and/or no more reading Amy Tan books; or else it isn’t, in which case no more reading Amy Tan books.

It feels a little as if EVERYONE has a FitBit, so perhaps this post is unnecessary. But if you DON’T have one and you’re wondering what it’s LIKE, then I will tell you in time for you to add it to your wish list.

I have the clip-on FitBit (as opposed to the bracelet style). It’s the least expensive FitBit option and it looks like this:

(photo from Amazon.com)

(photo from Amazon.com)

I chose the green one. It was an agonizing decision.

You may notice it looks different in its two pictures: this is because it’s shown with and without its little protective case (the case has the clip on it). I think the case makes it look even prettier, because it’s a complementary shade of green that takes it from “is this green, or is this yellow?” to “green—a yellowish green, but it’s green.”

You can clip it to your bra strap, or you can clip to your pocket. I tried it both ways, and I much preferred the pocket; my mother prefers to clip hers to her bra, but this does make for an amusing sight if she’s trying to check her steps while we’re out in public. If you clip it to your pocket, you’re supposed to clip it to the INSIDE of your pocket: that way if it falls out of its little clip-case, it drops safely into your pocket. It also means that all you see from the outside is the little one-inch-by-1/4-inch stripe of clip, rather than the whole FitBit. This is something to take into account, though, before ordering one of the brighter colors: the green would be very noticeable against my jeans if I didn’t always wear long shirts.

I’ve had the FitBit for just over 2 months now. I wondered if I would even like it, but I DO. In fact, I really, REALLY like it. And you know I am not an Exercise Person.

Here is what I like: it uses the kind of methods that are effective on me to encourage me to do the exercise I feel like I ought to be doing. I like the feeling of having someone monitor my good behavior approvingly: if I walk to my parents’ house instead of driving, someone NOTICES and makes a little SMILEY FACE about it. It’s why I like the Wii Fit, too: I like that someone is KEEPING TRACK. I get CREDIT. And I don’t know why it would be motivating to have a computer keep track uncaringly of steps or minutes or whatever, BUT IT IS. The downside is the same as for most such situations: it increases the feeling that if the monitoring stops, there’s no point behaving. If the FitBit stopped working one day and I knew it wasn’t recording my steps, my motivation would PLUMMET. Buuuuuuuuut….”plummeted” is near my USUAL level of motivation, so not much lost, and lots gained.

Here is what the dashboard (on the computer) looks like:

(screen shot from FitBit.com)

When I first set it up, I changed the step goal to 2000 because I didn’t have any idea how many steps I might already be doing, and I didn’t want to get discouraged right off the bat. (The miles and active-minutes goals are also adjustable.) After awhile, I raised the step goal to 5,000, and then to 7,000, then to 10,000.

You get badges (little pictures on your dashboard) for meeting milestones: your first 5,000 steps in a single day; your first 5 miles; etc. They’d be more fun if there were more of them: after meeting all the early goals, the later goals feel so unlikely. Also, I don’t like the feeling it gives me that NOTHING IS EVER GOOD ENOUGH. “You went 30,000 steps in a single day? Great! NOW DO MORE.” Also-also, I want to see all my badges in little rows like on a Girl Scouts vest, not just the one they consider “top.”

I like that it differentiates among the intensities of different kinds of walking. Like, if I am strolling around Target, leaning on the cart handle indolently while sipping a coffee and barely lifting my feet, those steps are orange (“light”); but if I am out on a walk, those steps are yellow (“moderate”) and/or green (“very”). The colors can be a little tricky because each line’s color represents the steps done in that 15-minute period. So you can do 5 minutes of fast walking and 10 minutes of sitting down and end up with an orange or yellow line, no green showing—and yet the Very Active Minutes dial will still count those 5 minutes. (Someone who is Very Active Indeed may resent the level the FitBit considers Very Active: if I walk just over 2 miles/hour, it registers as Very Active.)

There was a calorie tile, too, but I took it out because I found it perplexing/upsetting/unhelpful, and because my latest attempt at improving overall health is trying not to get discouraged and give up when healthful moderate exercise doesn’t seem to result in being willowy and underweight, and trying to focus on exercise being good for overall health ANYway, especially now that I am in my Elder Years. But it’s interesting because it tracks ALL estimated calorie usage, including while you’re asleep, not just “exercise calories,” and so maybe I will use it later on.

You can see over to the right of the dashboard screen that you can be friends with people and see their steps, and it ranks you in order and declares a weekly winner. But I think I would find that kind of competition discouraging and/or upsetting and/or annoying. I MIGHT add Paul, if he were to get a FitBit—but I can picture getting annoyed and unfriending him.

I worried that it would be a pain to set up, but it was not. I wish I could remember how much personal information it asked for, because that’s the kind of thing I like to know before setting up something online. I notice that my weekly email from them is addressed to “Kristen Surname Initial,” so presumably it doesn’t make you put in a full/real name. I think it’s first and last name (though I used an initial) and user name and password; also I think height and weight. Then you plug a little nubbin into a USB port on your computer, and you hold up the FitBit, and it syncs up. Thereafter, it automatically syncs every time you get near your computer. (There are separate instructions for setting it up with a smartphone or tablet.) My mom almost never checks on her computer, and always looks at the FitBit itself; I almost never look at the FitBit itself, but I have the FitBit window always open in a tab on my computer.

The email level is nice. FitBit emails once a week to tell you your previous week’s summary: how many total steps, how many total miles, how many average steps/miles per day, highest/lowest daily steps/miles. It also nags you to set up the sleep tracker, but the type of device I have doesn’t DO sleep, I don’t think. FitBit also sends an email each time you earn a badge.

So! The FitBit is one of those devices that seemed very expensive to me for something I wasn’t even sure I would LIKE or USE—but now that I have it, if it broke I would buy a new one WITHIN THE HOUR and I would pay extra for overnight shipping. It’s made a significant difference in how I feel about exercise and how willing I am to do it. If I have to park far away, I think, “Yay, more steps!” If I JUST came upstairs and realize I need something else from downstairs, I think, “Well, I’ll get more steps.” If I’m at 8,000 steps for a day, I’ll think, “Hm, maybe I’ll go for a little walk!”

It takes me from “Very Unmotivated to Exercise” to “Just the Right Amount of Motivated.” That is, I feel a little uncomfortable if I don’t meet the step goal, but I don’t change my life in negative ways (finking out on other plans, staying up past bedtime, forcing myself to exercise even when I’m sick or hurt) in order to meet it. I’m not sure I would recommend it for anyone who feels they might get a little obsessive about it, or who finds themselves prone to “Nothing is ever enough” feelings.

This would also not be ideal for someone who gets a lot of physical activity in non-step-taking ways: I imagine it would be quite frustrating to lift weights all afternoon and then have a frowny-face on your FitBit as if you’d been eating Reese’s Peanut Butter Trees and reading People magazine.