Speaking of tacos, I can’t believe how long it’s taken me to tell you about these salmon ones Tim and I made last month.
We discovered them in the midst of that period of weeks where we’d been regularly testing new fish recipes, smoking out our kitchen and almost destroying our cast iron pan in the process. I already told you about those salmon experiments; I already told everyone about those salmon experiments. But, kind of in the same way that I’d find it more natural to tell you about the time our toilet overflowed just before my father-in-law came to visit for the first time (it’s a great story! full of embarrassing moments!) than to tell you about two Sundays ago when new friends shared lunch with us at the last minute, I’m better at calling out awkward moments than I am at savoring beautiful ones. Maybe you are, too. There’s something about being a human that makes it easier to list our complaints than our blessings, do you know what I mean?
In this life, pain and heartbreak are all around us: One day I’m sobbing because of cutting words; the next day, I’m saying them myself. Our bodies hurt. Work is hard. Relationships are frustrating. So-and-so seems to have it so much better than we do. But these real things, like the real things of fried eggs in skillets and friendly strangers and a hand-written note in the mail, are only partial things. They’re one part of the story, one side of what’s happening and who we are. Right alongside the failed test, the unemployment, the loneliness and the grief are other realities like a kind word, a friend who forgives you, a dinner you share with someone you love.
I like to focus on the good gifts of travel and house-hunting and a kind husband—not because they are my only realities but because they are the ones I easily overlook. I like to post pretty pictures on Instagram and this blog—not because they show my complete life, but because they counteract the cynical complainer in my head and give more power to the eyes that fight for joy.
The truth is, there are so many beautiful moments, all around us, all the time, and I want to push towards seeing them—towards remembering the salmon tacos Tim and I ate a few weeks ago on a Sunday night, just me and him and May’s long daylight.
For the Tacos:
You can find the recipe for these spice-rubbed, broiled salmon tacos, along with the killer avocado-tomatillo guacamole that goes in them (and which is worth eating on its own with a big spoon!), over at Five and Spice. I only recently discovered Five and Spice, after it was redesigned by the lovely ladies at Wooden Spoons Kitchen, a great resource for partial or full blog redesign help. Both are worth checking out.