As you can see I am late in my post this week. A long week of repair work at my Dad’s house, followed by a very long road trip back late last night…torrential rain…four long traffic jams due to wrecks…so, the article did not get written. I apologize. I realized that last week was the half-way mark of my year’s commitment to this blog. I can’t believe that I have actually written 26 articles! I hope that you still enjoy reading them as much as I do writing them. So, here is this week’s story…

My Mother was one of the greatest cooks ever!! Period!! No argument!! If I could only be half the cook she was, I would be considered a “wonder in the kitchen.” It was one summer many years ago, and fresh peaches had just come into harvest. As anyone knows from the South, there is nothing quite like that first bite of a fresh, home-grown peach. Mama had gone down to the little farmer’s market in town, by the courthouse, and had purchased some fresh peaches. She was planning on making us an “out of this world” peach cobbler. She had a new recipe, and she could not wait to try it out on us.

All afternoon we were forced to smell the delicious aromas coming out of the kitchen. Our mouths were drooling just with the expectation of what was to come! The time finally arrived for her to pull the cobbler out of the oven and share her “masterpiece” with the family. We were all oohing and ahhhing over her creation…it looked like a cobbler straight out of the pages of Southern Living Magazine…and smelled something wonderful!

Mother got us each a bowl and we stood in line to get a scoop of that peach cobbler. She stuck a  spoon into the cobbler to dip the first serving out…only there was a  problem…the spoon could not break the surface of the cobbler. She dug in with a little more force, attempting to scoop up a bite full. Still no luck! We all began looking at each other, wondering what was going on. She finally got a knife and attempted to cut us a piece of cobbler. The knife would not even make a dent in the cobbler. By this time Mother was so distressed, and we were famished for the taste of what we had smelled all afternoon. Finally my Father picked up the cobbler as one piece and tried to tear it apart. By this time, all of us were on the floor laughing hysterically, for you see, Mama NEVER messed up with cooking! And it was so funny seeing Daddy trying to tear the cobbler apart with his bare hands, so we could all get a little taste. He was finally successful in getting each of us a little piece to “gnaw on.” The taste was out of this world…you just couldn’t eat it!! We got to calling it the “peach pot pie.” And for years afterward, all anyone would have to say is “peach pot pie” and it would send us all into shrieks, and we would relive the event once again. My Mother never did figure out what happened to make it turn out so disastrously, but it sure turned into one of our favorite family “moments.”

So many times we make very specific plans and arrangements as to how “things should go” in our lives…family gatherings, meals, events, celebrations, holidays… And most times, things never go according to plans. And oh, the stress we place on ourselves trying to achieve that “perfection.” Maybe we should relax a little, and try not to make everything so “perfect,” for out of imperfection may come one of the most cherished moments of your life. I’m not going to worry so much about perfection. I will strive for excellence, but even in failure, there may just be some success…Won’t you join me? Just for this week…