It has always been something of a challenge to find proper pie tins/pans in Europe. I brought two with me to Iceland and am thinking of making a couple of pies. Last night I had coffee with an old friend for whom I used to make lemon meringue pies, and I have not made this variety since I actually lived here and was making them for him. It is logical (but feels strange) that being here can awaken all these memories of things I used to do, people I used to spend time with. It almost would not occur to me now to make a lemon meringue pie, but it was something that was in my consciousness actively when I lived here. Little stuff like that does not feel like (at the time) it is going to change, but it, like everything else, does.

As Teddy shared in his timeless wisdom: "Life is a mix of sweet and sour like a lemon meringue pie."