My husband is a pretty low energy guy. Mets baseball (even when they stink), air conditioning, and sleeping later than 7 a.m. are pretty much all he needs in a weekend. He’s not loud or hyper or excitable about most things. So when you spy the pair of us in late June do-si-doing around a gravel covered parking lot, high fiving and screeching like six year olds on a roller coaster, you have to know the inspiration for our behavior must be pretty damn special. We didn’t hit the Mega Millions. It’s something better. I present to you: The Blueberry Cream Pie from Briermere Farms…