An Invitation From

I’ve innocently believed I am always open to change.

Of course, that is within reason. There have been certain choices and/or decisions, however, where obviously, it would not apply.

For example, I have worn clothes from the same designer for close to twenty years. I rationalize that decision because they are washable (eliminating dry cleaning expenses) as well as within my price range. I do admit my wardrobe isn’t very adventurous, but then neither am I.

And yes, my hair style and color hasn’t deviated in, oh, I can’t remember when.

The diet I try to maintain has been consistent for over thirty odd years. Occasionally, I do fall off the perilous Atkins regime and wallow in the joy of a really good Danish or perhaps several Leonidas Orange Napolitains.

However, for the most part I do try to maintain the proportion of carbs, protein, fat, etc. that the good Doctor once proclaimed as essential.

So, yes, I once considered myself flexible to some degree.

That was until the current health crisis that has brought change beyond belief to all our lives.

Usually on Thursday, I place an order from a local food delivery service. During the decades I have done this, normally, I order the same items. If I am baking or having unexpected guests, my order may deviate, but that is not often.

Yesterday as I unpacked the shopping bags, I observed several substitutions caused by the empty supermarket shelves. I noticed the dark European pumpernickel bread I always request was missing. The item had been replaced by an popular name brand, and the dark brown slices had a different texture. The brand I normally prefer has small compact rectangular slices. The loaf I received was larger, and the portions oval

Because I know imported foods are disappearing, at least for now, from shelves, I understood the substitution. Still while preparing lunch, I was unenthusiastic about the change.

However, because it was becoming quite late for a noontime meal, I proceeded to prepare lunch. I assembled one slice of the unwelcome bread along with two slices of gruyere cheese garnished with several dill pickle slivers on a plate.

Before I began to eat, I decided to check the nutrition information on the back of the bread wrapper. To my surprise it was precisely the same as that of my original carb.

Pessimistically, I still doubted if the bread could taste quite as good. Realizing I had no other option, I began to eat.

My first bite was a pleasant surprise; the second bite, a delight.

Then I wondered, “Why haven’t I tried this bread before?”

Now I sheepishly wonder about so many other things that I may have consciously neglected to taste, feel, smell or investigate for ever so many summers, winters, and springs.

As I speculate on what life may invite me to appreciate next.