Okay, I've just about had it with this weather..... the wind is still with us, bringing cold temperatures down from Canada. It's worse up near Dallas, with freezing rain that has thousands of plane flights being cancelled, which I know isn't a picnic for the travelers up there.
We kept faucets dripping last night, and plugged in electric heaters in the cottage and the barn, in an attempt to protect all the new plumbing that my husband installed himself the year after we moved here when the pipes froze during a prolonged (and also Canadian) hard freeze that settled into the Hill Country. ("Welcome to the countryside..... take that!..... we're freezing your pipes to let you know what you've gotten yourself into.")
The cats are all sleeping and cuddled up in the warmest spots.... and it was so cold that I made soup for lunch. Spinach/artichoke soup, which I made from a basic vegetable soup recipe that I've adapted for my other soups (broccoli and cauliflower). We tasted that spinach/artichoke soup at one of the little cafes in town and we liked it...... my version is thicker, better, cheesier. (Is that a word?)
My husband really loved today's soup and asked me if I've been writing down the recent soup recipes. I told him that the recipes are all in my head, and I just 'wing it' as I go along.
"So you're not writing the recipes down?" said he.
"No need to.... I just make the soup the same way each time and it seems to be working just fine."
"But what if something happens to you and I feel like making spinach/artichoke soup?" said my husband.
I resisted the urge to ask him if something did happen to me, would making soup be his first priority?
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