Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Hot And Cold

I had some potatoes.

These potatoes I had have been calling my name. I tried to ignore them, but they just got louder and more insistent. Finally, I could block them out no more. I had to make them into soup.   Them and the onion and celery that were sharing their space in the crisper drawer.  So I made soup.  Lots of soup. 

Again, I didn't have a recipe. I just kind of made it up as I went along.  It turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself.  Just perfect for a cold day like today.


While I was at it, I worked on the blankie. 


And I made some tomato soup, too.

Why I needed two pots of two different kinds of soup, I don't know, but apparently, I did.  And why I needed to make soup at all when I've got enough in the freezer to feed an army is beyond me.

I've long since given up trying to find a logical explanation for...well, for myself. 


I've long since given up trying to be anyone but myself, and I'm discovering that being me is a pretty darn good thing to be. 


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