A Cobbler Tale

Today, I woke up with a migraine headache.

Out of nowhere,

before I even got my eyes open this morning,

Here comes the telltale sign,

heralding the big boomers imminent arrival.

It starts off small

and with each beat of my heart

the neon, blinking, half moon shape

grows, and grows, until it eventually occludes all of my vision. 

Then magically the Vegas style light show, harkening the arrival of The Big Bopper, suddenly stops.

I immediately headed for the Aleve.

I know what is coming next.

I gulped down the little blue pill, then headed right back to bed.

Then, of course, my tailbone decided to scream at me for lying on it too long.

I quickly weighed my options,

get out of bed and face the blinding light,

or lay in bed like a sissy

complaining.

I really had no choice,

I got out of bed.

I fumbled around in the kitchen for a while, fixed breakfast, had a cup of coffee, checked emails.

I was horribly disoriented.

My brain felt like the scrambled eggs I had just cooked.

I wondered how I would get through this day.

I decided to move forward and get my errands done quickly.

Hopefully, I wouldn't run over anyone,

or get lost.

I slapped on a pair of sunglasses, and headed out.

 All missions were successfully accomplished, and I got myself back home just in time for lunch.

While I was gathering the fixin's for the mid day meal, I spied the brown paper bag 

full of fruit hiding in plain sight in my pantry. 

The handwritten PEACHES, printed on the bag, jumped out at me.

I suddenly remembered stashing them away a few days ago

waiting for them to ripen.

Today was the day to check them out.

Before I could even open the bag, I could smell their deliciousness seeping through the pores of the bag.

When I pulled one out, a single tiny squeeze told me it was perfectly ripe.

I immediately got out the frozen black berries, peeled/sliced four peaches, and slightly sauteed them in a pan

with a small amount of butter, cinnamon, brown sugar, orange peel, and a squeeze of lemon.

Then I whipped up a biscuit/cinnamon concoction to put on top.

Oh, and don't forget to put some pecans on top.

Like I did. 

Five minutes into the cooking process, I decided to put the pecans on anyway.

I am glad I did.

Twenty five minutes later, I was eating the most delicious comfort food while busy with another project.

It was so good, I couldn't stop myself from eating three full bowls!!!! 

As I was savoring each yummy bite, 

I thought about how my mother used to take us out berry picking in summer,

and how my grandpa used to bring home boxes of fruit

from the overweight trucks where he worked,

and how good the cobblers were that my mother made.

I am grateful for the women in my family who taught me to cook good ole' fashioned comfort food.

Who cares about a migraine,

when you have cobbler.