True confessions

OK, so my original account of how I got started on this pie thing is not entirely accurate.

I wrote earlier that my husband gently encouraged me to consider entering a pie in our local Fourth of July pie baking contest and that after some hesitation, I accepted the challenge.

I suppose that's how it could've happened.

To be honest, how it actually went down went a little something like this:

I read the schedule of events for our community Fourth of July celebration, saw the pie baking contest and wondered two things out loud:

1. Who enters these kinds of contests? (Frumpy house fraus, I'm sure.) 
2. What if a dark horse contender swooped in and turned our quiet community bake-off upside down?

My curiosity was piqued. I dragged my husband to the event where, after studying the entries up close during the observation period, we sat in the back row to watch judging. And to quietly heckle.

"If I had a pie in here, you can bet my presentation would blow the judges away," I bragged quietly, so only my husband could hear. "Forget doilies. They're boring. Sparklers, baby. I'd light my pie on fire to demonstrate true Fourth of July spirit."

My evil plan to sweep the competition began to emerge.

"Wouldn't it be something if a total unknown came in here and won all the medals?" I reckoned. "What if a new competitor knocked all those housewives and grandmas on their asses by stealing the show? That'd be something, really something."

As the judging proceeded, I began to scheme.

I could do it. If I focused hard and took an entire year to prepare, I could enter the pie to beat all pies -- hell, with enough practice, I could enter four pies and win all four categories!

My nutty little plan began to take shape and I got the visual of a great, white shark, swimming circles around its prey, ready to strike in a blink of an eye.

I could be that shark. I could be The Pie Shark. (Cue the music from Jaws.)

The whole walk home, I talked smack. I bragged about how I'd become a pie master and return to dominate the lowly competition.

Yeah, I said 'dominate.'

And so that's how it all really began. I'm not proud that my confidence is more like cockiness, but maybe that's the competitive spark one needs.

So the countdown is on. I've got eleven and a half months to perfect not one but four kinds of pies -- berry, fruit, apple and cream -- to dominate my community pie bake-off.

And dominate I will. Oh yes, I will.