Evening Out

Something rather miraculous has happened.

Actually, a few things.

Firstly.  Last night, despite my being stupidly feverish and dehydrated as well as generally sick and tired on top of partially retarded, I prepared, completed and subsequently stored away three entire and large batches of soup, all at the same time (though not exactly simultaneously, they came together within a very close frame of time).  I must tell you I could not possibly done this without my (previously only suspected but now proven to be) indispensable Pots & Pans, with which I could not possibly be more enamored or, at a very minimum, happy.  They kick ass.  Not too long ago I was thinking maybe they were too much, too many, just another Mark of the Beast, yet another yuppy tattoo on my Volvo-driving ass, but now that I've had the chance to put...oh, what was it?...like five or six of them to use at the same time (I don't even have that many burners.), I can only congratulate myself on being--if and only and even if a complete and utter failure at practically everything else in recent memory--keenly, prudently, awesomely good at getting really amazingly fine stuff, at a damn good deal.  That one stockpot, the one that was probably just an indulgence, the one I loved so much just because of how big it was and how great it looked next to the smaller one?  Totally could not have even attempted to begin to consider making stock for three soups without it.  As I said, indispensable.  Also it's sorta nice to know I've got at least a few things that will last me the rest of my life (assuming no hijacked planes crash into my kitchen and melt all that steel...). 

Secondly, over the course of the past few days, some of the Golden Treasures have been slowly and surely ripening, changing skins from firm green brushed by shy yellow to sunny orange-streaked gold.  I might be dreaming, but even a couple that were completely green seem now to have glowing, curly tips.

Thirdly, I think I may have, at long last--without any recipe to guide me--managed to achieve a Zucchini Soup which is not entirely unlike my Mom's indisputably delicious and classic version.  Just zucchini and onions, garlic, a few herbs, salt, pepper and stock, simmered and then pureed.  Add sauteed mushrooms, crumbled bacon, croutons and parmesan... pretty darn not bad at all.

Fourthly, after a few heaping family-style servings of love sauce with pain balls last week, coming home with a doggie bag full of low-grade fever, sniffling and chest cough, followed upon my return to work by a few treatments of good ol' mainstream corporate cynicism--and despite my weary hacking, The Job twisting my ears, the daily longing to come home to comfort food on the stove and some fluff on the tele--I've felt more sweetly at peace in the past few...hours? in a way that I have not for such a dear, long time, that it's actually got me worrying that maybe I'm just seeing the old slide show of my memories of home, for the last time, before they flee my poisoned mind forever...  Oh come now...it's just Fall, you ripe nut.  The air is cooling, the light is fading and I've got this urge to wear sweaters and snow pants, get myself a nice slow-cooker and start listening to some new records.  The Equinox is so close, you can almost taste it, can't you?  Ah, September, drifting like a leaf on the river...

Lastly, it's not yet 10:30, and I am going to bed, for not the first time in the past week.  Sweet dreams, all, I hope to see each and every one of you soon, for real.