I'm not a soup person. The one exception is homemade vegetable. I'm a sucker for that. If I ever get the joy of being reunited with my late, sainted grandmother, I hope she has a pot of it -- and a cherry pie -- waiting.
But otherwise, the only time I eat soup is when I'm sick. And the only thing I've had to eat for the past 24 hours: soup. Apparently, I'm brain-sharing with my MEF the MonkeyGirl and am in total empathy with the illness she brought home from her business trip. I think it's an ear infection. (I get at least two good ones a year and I'm behind schedule for '08.)
So, I'm still in my pajamas, watching silly Christmas movies on TV, and trying to coax myself into heating up some more soup so I can take more Tylenol. It will be the first thing I've eaten today and I wish I could say it even sounded appetizing.
Chalk it up to another lazy, cold, gray Saturday, though tomorrow is to be much nicer indeed and I can ideally resume and complete my outdoor stuff. It's supposed to be in the upper 50s! Yippee!
No Lawrence today and I'm not sure when. Mom said next Friday but hey, that's Black Friday. She's slippin'! I got shopping to do. Yesterday, he got the door hardware done and fixed the scallops. That was it. That means there's still plenty left to do.
But right now, the only thing I have to fix is some soup.