Master...Ba[k]ing

I've always loved baking - not cooking - baking.  "Cooking" implies slaving over a hot stove while your impatient husband and bevy of children (envision "Children of the Corn") gnash their steely teeth at the formal dining room table (1970s dark, stained oak or maple inclusive of a china cabinet).  I'm not into cooking.  I'm into baking.  Tarts, pies, cakes, cookies, trifles, etc.  Being a diet baker is akin to being a celibate orgy instructor (my dream career).  You just have to dip your hand (or other dangling extremity) in once in awhile.  Today I baked a lattice crust apple pie (I pour cream into the pie the moment I take it out of the oven).  The aroma the baking cocoon of fruitiness created was something I cannot adequately describe.  If there ever was a "sex pie" - this was it.  I ate a piece then smoked a cigarette - it was that good!