mindfulness soup

You never know…
try as you might…
you can’t get it right all the time…
no matter how hard you try.

I made soup this morning, first thing, before my shower, as it always tastes better when warmed up later on. Lovely soup, the great sustainer of good health and a slim bodies unless you put in lashings of thick, sour cream, of course, when a dollop of low fat yogurt is probably better. I just adore making soup and today I made it with love and in mindfulness. Vegetable soup with chopped chives from the garden grown with such care…and good soup always brings a smile to people’s faces…

… so I cut up the leeks and I diced the swede like my Mum used to do, I sliced the carrots, the celery and chopped fat cloves of garlic. I found a parsnip lurking in the fridge draw at the bottom and put that in as well. Butter to melt and to brown ever so slightly in the pressure cooker, to sautee it all, Delia would be so proud, all takes 10 minutes once it come to the boil, sweated the veg and added some lovage from the garden as well.. a tin of red beans as legumes are good, salt and black pepper, a twist of the chilly mill and I put in a half lemon, unsprayed, skin and all…and itl soon steamed away…

done in a jiffy…

and

…then the phone rings…
…pretty ring, the new phone…
…just a quick call…I am sure…won’t be that long…

…Your postal vote will be with you shortly, he said, to choose Britain’s new Boss. Won’t need the postal? Be here after all? Crisis averted? Oh good. I’m sorry she’s ill though… what, nearly a hundred? My Mum was 103 when she died, poor old thing, but they were a different breed then weren’t they, a different breed…so independent, they were, weren’t they, knew what they wanted, yes, yes, he said slowly, a different breed. Yes, yes. Can we count on your vote then? Well it looks very good. Yes, so it does. You’ll vote for our Adam? Well, well that is good, we’ll see you on the day then… I hope she gets better…yes, so do I. It’s not easy is it? No, not easy at all.

and

I think of the new Boss for Britain, who will it be? Nick Clegg or young David or Gordon again? They don’t wear nice ties, the debate was quite good, and they don’t wear nice socks, like Jon Snow on the Channel 4 News. The suits look too grey, though Nick scrubs up nice, such pearly white teeth and such lovely eyes…they talk about pensions and Trident and things, they talk about old folk and taxes and what life with them brings for us all, we must vote, we must vote, vote for Gordon or Nick or for Dave who bikes to look good when he rides and his cycle bell rings….

and

… up to the shower…

…to get ready for my day of making and glazing and loading the kiln. Walking the dog, enjoying the sun after the winter so bad you thought you would never again get warm out of doors. Must plant Busy Lizzies, Petunias and Parsley. It’s always so nice to have your own parsley for salads and dishes and all your own herbs for your soups…

…soups? Soups? Did I say SOUPS? Oh my…it would still be ok…I’d turned down the gas I was sure…the dog was upset, there was so much steam.. and I ripped open the door and grabbed the shaking pot of my lovely mindfulness soup…

and

…put it outside…


You can only try…
can’t get it right all of the time…
try as you might…
you just never know…