One of my girls had an old blue sweater. It was her favorite because it was soft, and the color of April sky. It had a pocket for her hands, and a hood. But she wore it past its peak, long into the shredded cuff stage. She had a drawer of other sweaters to choose from and I often invited her to toss it, but she refused. Plus she was reluctant to subject it to the rigors of the washing machine. It was grungy. 

This week she saw a picture of herself in it and laughed. 

"Why on earth did I love it so much!? It was awful!" she shook her head. 

I smiled, to see her perspective do a one eighty in a mere four years.

I had a habit of eating ice cream. A lot. Over a month ago I had a shift and decided the tradition no longer fit. It coincided with the beginning of our CSA which brings fresh, organic produce into the house every week, so the vacuum left behind where ice cream exited has been filled by kale. Swiss chard. Carrots. Not only that the vegetables in my raised beds are at the tipping point of harvest.  

With a plate full of greens on my plate I wonder why I was attached to ice cream. There are a palette of other inviting flavors to choose from. 

Changing our habits may seem daunting. But a mere four years later we may laugh at ourselves.