Tonight I went to the grocery store to get milk. I came home with milk, four bags of oranges, pimento cheese, cashews, wheat thins and a pint of heavy cream. I did not buy pie. I randomly decided I wanted to make whipped cream (for I don’t know… coffee?) and dry oranges for garlands. Also, I was hungry. And that, friends, is shopping under the influence of grief. At least I remembered the milk. It occurs to me now… my mom loved whipped cream and always had a can.