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Amelia Bedelia’s First Apple Pie.
Amelia Bedelia was visiting her grandparents.
It was a glorious autumn afternoon —
the perfect day to rake leaves into piles and run around the yard.
“Fall is in the air,” said Granddad.
Granddad and Amelia Bedelia looked up.
“So are the birds,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“V … W … What are they trying to spell?”
Just then Amelia Bedelia’s grandma came outside.
“Quick,” said Granddad. “Look busy.”
But it was too late.
“Hey lazybones,” Grandma said, jokingly.
“If you’re just going to stand around,
I’ve got a job for you.”
“What do you need?”
Granddad asked.
“Apples,” said Grandma.
“I made pie dough. If you’ll get some apples,
I can teach Amelia Bedelia how to bake an apple pie.”
Grandma’s apple pie was Amelia Bedelia’s favorite.
“Hooray!” she yelled. “Race you to the car!”
She started to run but tripped over a branch
and landed right in the pile of leaves.
“How was your trip?” asked Granddad as he helped her up.
“Fun!” she said. “Fall is in the air and on the ground, too.”
Granddad smiled and said, “What your step.”
Amelia Bedelia tried to watch her steps, but it made her dizzy to look down at her feet all the time.
Amelia Bedelia and Granddad were already in the car when Grandma called out,
“Be sure to pick up Granny Smith!”
“Who is Granny Smith? Is she helping us make the pie?” Amelia Bedelia asked.
“You bet,” Granddad said. “We couldn’t do it without her.”
Amelia Bedelia and Granddad drove out into the country.
“Your supermarket is far away,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“We aren’t going to the supermarket,” said Granddad.
“We’ll get our apples at the farmers’ market.”
“What?” asked Amelia Bedelia.
“Do we need to buy a farmer?”
“No,” said Granddad, laughing.
“Their apples are much fresher.”
“Apples are good for me, right?” asked Amelia Bedelia.
“Oh, yes,” said Granddad. “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.
They’re good for your teeth, too.
Folks call them nature’s toothbrush.”
“Hey, Granddad!” said Amelia Bedelia.
“If I eat an apple a day, I won’t have to go to the doctor or the dentist ever again!”
Granddad smiled. “I wish it worked that way, pumpkin,” he said.
Granddad picked up a bright green apple, polished it on his jacket, and tossed it to Amelia Bedelia.
“Nice catch,” he said. “Meet Granny Smith.”
Amelia Bedelia took a loud, crunchy bite.
“Granny is yummy,” she said.
Bushel baskets overflowed with red, yellow, orange, pink, and green apples. Some apples wore stripes or spots or splotches.
The colors reminded Amelia Bedelia of autumn.
While Granddad chose apples to buy, Amelia Bedelia read the names out loud.
One kind was called “Delicious,” but they all looked tasty to her.
Winter Banana.
Black Twig.
Royal Gala.
Northern Lights.
Golden Nugget.
Pink Pearl.
Granny Smith.
When they got home, Grandma went right to work coring and peeling the apples.
Amelia Bedelia measured the peels to see which one was the longest.
Grandma cut each apple into two pieces,
then into four pieces,
and then into eight pieces.
Finally she sprinkled sugar and cinnamon on the slices.
Next Grandma pulled out all of her pie pans,
hunting for just the right one.
Amelia Bedelia found a tiny pan.
“Is this a toy?” she asked.
“No,” said Grandma. “That is a real pie pan, it’s just really small.
Aha! Here is the one I want.
Now please get me a little flour, sugarplum.”
Amelia Bedelia spied a small flower on the windowsill, and she picked it.
“Here you go, Grandma,” she said.
“Thanks, sweetie,” said Grandma.
Then she showed Amelia Bedelia where she kept the flour she used for baking.
Grandma rolled our the dough.
It got flatter and thinner.
it got rounder and bigger.
Grandma said, “Careful . . . watch your fingers.”
Amelia Bedelia rook her hands off the table.
She watched her fingers very carefully.
they looked pretty boring.
She wondered why she had to do this to make an apple pie.
“Now we need a sprinkle of flour,” said Grandma.
Amelia Bedelia reached into the sack of flour, grabbed a handful,
and sprinkled it all over their heads.

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