No to new things

I don't like trying new things. Do you want to know why I don't like trying new things? Do you really?

Since you asked, I shall tell you.

When I was last in Hessel over the Fourth of July holiday last month I strolled down to the Farmer's Market. They have it every Sunday during the summer in Hessel, from 10 until 2, and it's roughly the equivalent of about one and a half city blocks from our place in town. An easy, a very easy, Marty walk.

A baker from Rudyard was there then. She had among other things a most excellent carrot cake. It had close to an inch of marvelous buttercream frosting too and was absolutely delightful. Grudgingly sharing it with my family whom I was with (I merit sainthood for that act alone) they too agreed that it was exceptional.

So yesterday arrives, maybe five weeks after that particular Farmer's market, and I am in Hessel. I simply cannot wait for Sunday to arrive, anticipating like Pavlov's dog a slab of that carrot cake which I might delight in all to my lonesome. With hot coffee because, of course, heavenly carrot cake (with thick buttercream frosting), cannot be savored completely without hot coffee. My tongue lathered at the very thought.

Rudyard baker was not there. I may never partake of her carrot cake again, I now solemnly realize. C'est la vie, opines philosophical Marty. Such is life.

And that is why I don't like trying new things,. You may adore them then, like a tease, they are no more.