Falafel

I am not in love with falafel.  At least not the falafel I made tonight.  And I made it from scratch, too!  And a yogurt/lemon/cucumber sauce.  And served it on garden arugula.  But, I don't know . . . it just didn't speak to me.  Jenna didn't think it was so bad.  We were eating on the front porch as the sun was setting, and I was moaning (as I often seem to do these days) about what-the-heck-am-I-going-to-fall-in-love-with-today?  I commented that I certainly would not be falling in love with falafel.  Jenna said, "Why don't you fall in love with trying new things?"

Hmmm . . . now there's an idea.  However, I think I will keep the title of this post Falafel because, you know, it just sounds better than Trying New Things.

So have I actually tried new things?  I suppose I have, although now that I think about it, probably not enough.  I did zip-line in Costa Rica and snorkel on The Great Barrier Reef.  Those were new things, and likely things I will never do again.  But the "new things" that we do don't have to be big-deal things.  I think it's more about the little things, like making falafel from scratch for the first time.

I planted garlic for the first time last fall and ate garlic scapes for the first time this spring.  I reupholstered a couch for the first time this past winter.  I am always trying out new music to listen to, new bands to see.  I learned how to inject my cat with insulin for the first time and didn't faint while doing so.  (Lucky for me, that treatment didn't last.  And the cat's still alive.)  For the first time, I gave up cable TV and discovered that I do not miss it.  I recently made a conscious decision to stop focusing on what I don't have and appreciating what I do have; that's a first.

And there are more new things to try ahead of me.  I would like to write a short story, make Pad Thai, drive with the crazies in Florida.  I want to binge-watch a TV series over a stretch of rainy days without feeling guilty.  I want to go up in a hot-air balloon.  I want to conquer my fear of driving in New York City.  No, wait.  Scratch that one.  I still don't want to do that.

I want to fall in love like the first time.

And just to legitimize this post, a picture of falafel: