Lazy summer days are sweet and sticky jewels studded with fresh cut fruit and juicy cakes. Farmers' markets buzz with color and scents. And peaches are the star. Get them while you can, Gentle Reader. Inhale their ripe velvet voluptuousness. Because all too soon they will be gone, and the stony, flavorless winter impostors picked well before ripening, thrown into crates and imported from far off orchards flirting with the southern hemisphere sun will be posing at your market as peaches. But they are not. And they know it.
They don't even try to pretend.
So grab your baskets and get thee to a local farmers' market. There is peach cake and peach crisp, and peach ice cream to be savored.
Some of you may recognize the basic recipe here. It's one I've posted and tweaked. It's not in my nature to follow directions or repeat a success without tweaking it, you see. I just can't do it. My brain chemistry switches to Bored Beyond Belief faster than you can mutter the words peach pancakes on a stick.
Let's just say I was a challenge in school. And in jobs (and okay, relationships) requiring a set routine or specific schedule. Rules and expectations writ in stone give me the itch to break free and play, What if? I just can't do the same thing over and over. I get too restless. I get punchy. And I'm also a big believer in change.
Change is good.
Change means I'm alive, growing and learning. Change means I'm curious, taking a risk, discovering something I didn't know before. Experimenting and sometimes failing or looking like an idiot often comes with the territory. Sure, I might end up feeling inept or totally stupid. Born too late. Or too soon. But will that keep me in my proper place and tame my wanton right-brained ways?
Not on your life, Babycakes.
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