The Peach Original Art

Eating a peach, in season, perfectly ripe, is pure magic.

But also messy. Oh sure, you can eat them before they’re ripe, but they’re not nearly as good. The best peaches are always messy.

I’ll admit it: I prefer tidy. I like the structure of a good plan. I feel great when the dishes are done. I don’t like when piles stay piles for too long. Is it an Adultitis-fueled trait? Perhaps. But I do find that I am more present, relaxed and creative when clutter and chaos is minimized. I don’t believe that an Adultitis-free life is one that disregards any sense of order.

Sometimes budgets get blown and well-made plans go poof.

Sometimes eggs get broken, milk gets spilled, and the kitchen gets dusted in a fine layer of flour.

Sometimes a scaled-down replica of the Wisconsin State Fair takes over an entire bedroom for several days.

Sometimes life doesn’t go the way we planned, expected or even hoped. The most direct route is rarely the most scenic, and sometimes wrong turns can lead to the best discoveries. Adventures are rarely tidy.

Sometimes the best memories arise from the biggest messes.