Specifically this one. The one I made last Sunday, to celebrate the end of Summer, the end of the longest month of my life (exaggerating, but whatever), and also the beginning of a new practice. Does that all make sense? If not, that’s cool, because I have this whole post to get through.
Somehow, I found the energy to even write this post, still dark from the early morning with just my lemon water in hand. I tried writing this many times at my job, that I’m actually starting to outgrow, even at night in the midst of an Anthony Bourdain’s, Parts Unknown episode. Somehow, after a 16 hour day in the city and four hours of sleep, I chose this morning. Wide eyed, somewhat tired, and motivated. That, my dears, is not a normal habit for myself, if we’re being honest.
You see, there was always a reason. Whether it wasn’t the right time or I wasn’t sure I could do it successfully, I pushed one of the many things I told myself I would do aside. Am I talking about pie or a real life event? It can go both ways. My world feels like it has been turned upside down in the last month. In order to mentally cope and most literally slow down (not an easy task when walking the streets of New York and taking six trains a day), I put away MANY of my Summer Goals. One of them, making a peach pie.
This peach pie represented my biggest obstacle of the season, my biggest practice in life. I found the task intimidating, time consuming, and more intense than I’m used to. These are some of my obstacles when it comes to my biggest dreams. Maybe yours too. Could I make time to do this? Was it even necessary in a time when I “had to” focus on everything else presently going wrong? Why do I even want to do it?
Emotions were becoming mixed with reality and I couldn’t pull them apart.
I wanted to end this month with something beautiful. A reminder of why I strive to do what I love, everyday. Even writing this post, ending a very busy week, I knew this is what I needed to do, right now at this very moment, at least.
This post was unplanned and thought through on a whim, just like the doctor visits, health scares, and new bills that lined up for me to figure out. I made this pie on my last free day I would have in two weeks. Sacrificing a few extra dollas, time with friends, and doing what I “should”, I chose to make a pie. I chose to follow my dream. I chose to end a time, a season, a relationship, that taught me how imperfect and bumpy this thing called life is always going to be.
Yet, I’m not as intimidated. To just do it, is to make it possible.
I rolled out dough and made a beautiful crust. Not perfect, but beautiful. A filling made with the last of the season peaches, still sweet on their very own. With some practice and new adventures to come (a new job? homemade bread?!), who knows what exactly is next. Although, I do hope it’s delicious.
I used Joy The Baker, Peach Blueberry Pie. No blueberries or corn starch. I recommend corn starch and patience. Something my family did not have. Still delicious and devoured.
P.S. It’s September. Fall is about to begin. I. Smell. Apple. Pie