It Was a Shoofly Pie Celebration Weekend (standard:humor, 905 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Aug 17 2014	Views/Reads: 2354/1605	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Celebrating the delicacies of life enable us to survive the adversities of life.

People ask me questions all the time. Some of those questions I can
answer, some I cannot answer and some I will not answer. I wish people 
would ask me questions I could answer and look good about it. However, 
it never happens. 

The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage asks me questions all the time.
After 43 years, I have finally figured out her questions. Most usually 
require one word answers. For somebody like me who spends most of his 
time preaching and writing, boiling an answer down to one word is 
something that is quite difficult. 

The one great thing about my wife is, when she asks me a question, she
does not really want an answer, because she already has the answer. I 
do not know how wives have developed this kind of intellectual 
mystique. I have just never had the opportunity to ask her. This 
probably would be the main question I would ask. Sometimes, living in 
the dark is okay. 

Some people ask questions to get information. Some people ask questions
to show off how smart they think they are, which, merely proves how 
dumb they actually are. Do not let them know that I said this, or they 
may have some questions for me. Then some people ask questions in order 
to trick you. 

Questions are important. Sometimes my friends (both of them), will ask
me a question. The primary question is simply, What is a shoofly pie? 
This is the kind of question I like and furthermore, I like to answer 
it. 

The trouble with a question like this is, where do you begin? With
something as marvelous and wonderful as a shoofly pie, where do you 
start to explain all of its delicacies? 

To begin with, a shoofly pie is a slice of heaven. I am quite sure that
in heaven at supper time there will be shoofly pies aplenty. I know 
quite a few Mennonite and Amish women who, I am quite sure, are in 
heaven, and if they are, they will insist on making shoofly pie. I do 
not know if it is in their genes, but I do know it is in their aprons. 

If anybody has ever had the wonderful opportunity of eating a shoofly
pie, they will know exactly what I am talking about. It is hard to 
explain the experience without your mouth watering so much you need a 
towel. 

To start with, the bottom of a shoofly pie is sheer liquid pleasure.
Depending on the woman preparing the pie will depend on how thick that 
bottom layer is. Once that is laid down, the next layer is a delightful 
mix of flour and sugar and other secret ingredients. That layer seems 
to float on top of that liquid pleasure. 

On the top is a crust of munchable delight that has absolutely no equal.
Then, to set it off, there is a circular crust that holds all of this 
together in one magnificent pie. 

I am not a baker so I do not know how they put all of this together and
then put it in the oven and then bring out this awesome, classical 
dessert known as shoofly pie. Some things are so wonderful that they 
cannot be fully explained. 

Personally, I would rather not spend much time trying to answer the
question, What is a shoofly pie? I would preferably utilize that time 
delving into eating a shoofly pie. That is my greatest delight. 

Recently I indulged this marvelous delight in the center of shoofly pie
country. Everybody knows that to be Lancaster, Pennsylvania. 

A conference was going to be there that I wanted to go to but I had many
things that prohibited me from going there. All I could think about was 
the wonderful shoofly pies I could indulge in if I went to that 
conference. So, I worked hard to eliminate everything that would keep 
me from going there. Some things are, indeed, worth fighting for. 

About a month before the conference was to start, I had dealt with the
final obstruction and was able to make plans to go. All I could think 
about was, “Shoofly pie, here I come.” 


Click here to read the rest of this story (25 more lines)