Begin with Failure.

Life wouldn't be worth living if we weren't trying to continually improve ourselves, would it? We've all met the folks who aren't working to grow, and not only are they stagnant to be around, they must be miserable shoes to walk a mile in.

The only exception to this striving-for-evolution is my late grandmother, who at 84, was still operating under the impression that she'd find the magic cure to lose weight. (And to erase wrinkles and revive her sight, but the weight loss was the major focus. Lord, I hope I give up thoughts of physical perfection in my 7th or 8th decade!)

But. Back to this week's newest benchmark for improvement: not throwing out leftovers. Some folks, I hear, don't save or have leftovers. What is this concept? I grew up in a house where my mother, as a gift from her mother mentioned above, saved every bite of food... and to quote my father... as a result... we had a fridge full of "a thousand little tin foil packages!!" (With or without expletive in that. Ahem.)

If food should be taken seriously, if food should be honored as our daily communion with sustenance, health, community... then I ought not be throwing it away, tiny-tin-foil package or no.

So I begin with failure. Sunday night's turkey loin and sauteed kale. The final bite of turkey loin (yes, there is one slice left) will get eaten on toast in moments for breakfast. Five, six days old? I live on the edge! But the kale? It looks sad, and limp, and lonely in streaks of cold olive oil, a too-large Tupperware dish. I think I'm going to give up the dream that it'll get eaten, and turn my attention instead to the half jar of peanut sauce for a stir fry this weekend, the small scoop of chicken salad for lunch today, and the zucchini that are getting a wee bit soft from last week's CSA pick-up.

I'll report back when I fail again, but I have high hopes for now. High, apple pie, in the skyyyy hopes...