I am not a baker. I'm not exact, I'm not measured and I'm definitely not predictable. I'm not that great at following directions, and I believe someones got to be different (and that's usually me).
But weirdly enough I want to be a baker. I dream of fresh loves of bread, with perfectly chewy interiors and crisp, crunchy crusts. I imagine holidays filled with savory, sweet pies, the house perfumed by wonderful, homey aromas of cinnamon and nutmeg. I buy book after book on baking, desserts and breadmaking and stare longingly at the pages. But I believe in change and growth and chances.
So I baked a pie.
It's not perfect; the crust didn't brown as much as I would have liked, and pastry is not my specialty, but it's a pie. And it'll taste fine.
And that's enough.