Tell me all about the hard times that you had to be alive
I do not wish to become a photo blog for a variety of reasons, including the importance of words to me, but my chicken carcass with vegetables and spices came out so peculiarly photogenic mid-soup-making that I wanted to share it. If my stovetop looked just a little more like a Symbolist void, I could try to convince people it was some kind of memento mori still life. Or, since we are going to get new soup out of it, perhaps a metaphor for renewal.

The soup is now boiling and doesn't look like much of anything, especially since I've clapped a lid on it for the next few hours.


The soup is now boiling and doesn't look like much of anything, especially since I've clapped a lid on it for the next few hours.


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Soup is definitely the latter.
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Good. I prefer the latter.
It's not like it has been previously irrelevant to me, but I appreciate being raised in a household whose foodways were all about making do. I will still get twitchy when the fresh produce runs out, but I am sure we will become inventive with legumes.
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Thank you!
The carcass was just divested of the last of its meat, which is being turned into barbecue pulled chicken as we speak. Bones went back in the pot for further simmering.
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You're welcome! And thank you.
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And I really like posts that show my friends are nourishing themselves, body and soul.
I think of you often, and on my desk I have my copy of Forget the Ceaseless Shores.
P.
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Thank you! I didn't even see that until I'd taken the picture of the beautiful colors and shapes.
And I really like posts that show my friends are nourishing themselves, body and soul.
Thank you. We are doing our best. I hope you are the same.
I think of you often, and on my desk I have my copy of Forget the Ceaseless Shores.
*hugs*
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There was a news item a few days back about an old (really old) lady who came though covid and claimed her family's recipe for potato soup was what got her through! :o)
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I absolutely don't see how it could hurt.
and claimed her family's recipe for potato soup was what got her through!
Why not?
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It is cooking for the second time as we speak and then we'll strain it and then we'll have soup!
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...sorry, Grosse Pointe Blank is with me always, it does seem like the beginnings of lovely soup.
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Dialogue in our household can be conducted entirely in quotations and allusions if necessary; we're cool. Thank you.