The other day I posted pictures of my kitchen.
The sun was shining and I got a new lens and I wanted to tell a story about freshy decorating, so I just picked up the camera and started snapping away.
I think I straightened a few things and folded the towels and did the dishes, but I didn’t really change much before I took these pictures.
That day was just me and my kitchen and some sunshine.
And just between us, when I finished taking the pictures and editing them, I was so all about the kitchen.
It’s nothing fancy, really. Those metal bowls came from Wal-Mart and I have laminate counter tops and white appliances and a hutch came from someone’s garage and an island from IKEA.
And the kitchen table came from a yard sale with one of the best negotiation stories ever.
But in the pictures I was editing?
It looked fancy.
And high end.
Kind of like Little House on the Prairie meets the Real Housewives of Kentucky.
And I was so all about it, that laminate counter, white appliance, yard sale finding table of mine.
You could hold your own at a fancy kitchen convention, I told it.
Mentally I patted it on the back and high-fived it and gave it a hug.
And so I wrote my story and edited my pictures and posted the post on the blog.
Then I went about the rest of the day. I worked online and went to the grocery store and cheered at a basketball game and bought paper plates for a school project from the dollar store.
And that night when I got home I was reading the post again and noticed this.
Can you see it?
Look at the apples.
What was I thinking with that smashed in, sunken, mashy-looking apple?
Here’s another picture just in case you wanted a close-up.
I looked away.
Then I looked again.
And all that kitchen amazingness faded away as a I stared at that apple. In that moment, my kitchen didn’t look fancy anymore. It looked kind of pitiful to me. My heart sunk and I went all tunnel vision with the mushy produce on the table.
Why is that?
Why do we sometimes focus on the one tiny imperfection when there is so much good around us?
Why do we concentrate on what is wrong instead of what is right?
Why do we let one rotten apple spoil the bunch?
I almost edited the photo to edit out the rotten part of the apple.
But in the end, I left it.
I want to remind myself that my kitchen is so much more than mushy apples.
It’s incredible and wonderful and thrifty and loved.
And it’s not going to let a little produce define who it is.
It’s going to remove the mushy part, focus on simply being amazing….
….and make a little apple pie.
PS I have the BEST crust in the entire world that’s so easy to make if you want to make a pie out of your apples, too.