I've come to the conclusion, I shouldn't start serving mince pies in October, because folks become bored with them before Twelfth Night.
However, it was a special occasion, a Regency Ball, English Country Dancing complete with musicians and a regionally renowned caller. Each guest brought a bottle of wine and a dish for the grand dinner. Thingummie major bought a lovely bottle of Dry Mill Vineyard's local traminette. And I resolved to make crimson mince tarts, the first of the season.
Thingummie major did not go Regency style, but did look grand in white tie and military dinner jacket.
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Thingummie minor and I were baking pies. It has been a splendid year for berries, and the first batch of mince was extraordinarily good. Steps in baking Catoctin Mountain Wayfarer Pies include: preheating the oven, rolling the dough, stewing the mince, and rescuing the household feline from a raccoon in the kitchen.
Come again?
We smelled the intruder before we saw him. The whole brouhaha seems to have started when Rocky Raccoon had a brief turf dispute with Pepe le Pew, a local skunk of fierce repute. Solstice, our rapscallion orange tabby, claims to have been an innocent observer rather than an active combatant.
Pepe overcame all opposition by virtue of gas warfare. Solstice ran to take shelter and came roaring through his cat door into our house. Rocky, working on the "any port in a storm" philosophy, followed Solstice right inside.
It wasn't until he arrived in the kitchen, that Rocky realized there were People present. Adrenaline rush seems to have gotten him through the too-small cat door. But nothing could persuade him to reverse the process. He stamped his feet and hissed at Solstice, but respectfully declined to challenge Thingummie minor or me.
We hastily closed off the rest of the house. I went around the outside to open wide the Human's door. Meanwhile Thingummie minor shooed Rocky out of the house, by the simple expedient of waving a black felt cowboy hat at him. Guess he's not a country and western fan.
We then slammed the door and opened all the windows, Eau de Pepe le Pew being prevalent.
Thingummie minor informs me that mince pies are never boring. I guess she's right.
what a lovely story! Nothing nearly so exciting happens round here when I make mince pies...
And what a handsome pic of Thingummie Major. Handsome pics all round, in fact! 
Mince Pies were banned in England for being never boring but I suppose you are OK across the oceans.
you do lead an exciting life.
I think I'll skip the introduction to Pepe and just come along to the ball to eat mince pies 
Thanks for your kind replies.
Merry, I had to borrow the portraits from Thingummie Major's archive, since we were a bit too flurried to take photos when Rocky visited the kitchen. 
Furbs, I guess the Puritans were responsible for outlawing mince pies in England. We had Puritans in Massachusetts as well, but not in Virginia, where minces are somehow legal fare. We're very wicked here, you know?
Panikos, sounds like a plan. See you at the ball, eh?