The chicken soup supper went off deliciously last Wednesday at St. George’s. I did not allow enough time for the vegetables to cook, however, but my problem was very capably solved by my assistant Elizabeth, who suggested then helped me transfer the mix of chicken, water, chicken broth, herbs, onions, carrots and celery into two big pots we put on the stove to properly boil. We added the spaetzle noodles, then transferred the soup back into the two very large crock pots in time (just in time) to begin serving at six pm. The carrots were at that perfect state of a hint of al dente. Got the recipe (for thirty!) off the Internet at JustAPinch.
May I mention here a forthcoming event? This coming weekend, March 16, 17, and 18, the Northwest Coin Club (of which I am a member) will be putting on a major coin event, The Money Show, in Minneapolis. One of the demonstrations will be how money was made in centuries past. Literally, made. As in using a hammer to bang a pattern into a round piece of metal. There will be lectures and an auction for the Boy Scouts. There will also be a “bourse,” a large room in which coins of many countries and eras (and prices) will be sold. For an exhibit, I, myself, will bring my “1,000 Years of English Money” collection, in which the oldest coin will be from the reign of King Canute (crowned in 1016) and the most recent from the reign of Queen Elizabeth II. There are a few gaps in my collection. Anyone out there have a Harold II, an Anne, or a William and Mary? Maybe I’ll find one at the show.
The location of the show is The Earle Brown Heritage Center, 6155 Earle Brown Drive, Brooklyn Center, Minnesota. Y’all come!
Written Monday night:
Somewhere a little south of here, tulips are pushing their blunt noses out of the ground. Somewhere not too far south of that, blue and yellow crocus dot the fresh green grass. But outside my window a blizzard howls and the weatherman said not only to not travel out on the highway, but to not travel in the neighborhood. I know spring will come, deep in my heart I’m certain of it, but oh gosh, it’s a wild, wild world outside tonight. God bless and keep the birds and squirrels and coyotes out in this weather.
Fortunately, I did my grocery shopping this morning, before the snow really got underway. Wednesday I have to prepare chicken noodle soup for thirty-five people coming to a evening Lenten seminar at my church. Would you believe I found the recipe on the Internet? Actually, it’s for thirty people, but I’m sure I can figure out how much more chicken base and chopped carrots and spaetzle noodles to add to the dismembered and deboned rotisserie chicken (a genius suggestion!) to make the soup go around. And this is Minneapolis, so after the snow stops around noon tomorrow, the streets will be passable Wednesday evening. Already I’m thinking of the army of drivers gassing up their plows and waiting for the order to head on out. Because I’m not buying the chicken until shortly after Wednesday noon.
I’m working on a short story called Ear Witness – Nobody saw the murderer, but they heard the shot and can point to where it came from. Inspired because I’m going a little deaf in one ear and can no longer depend on my hearing to tell me where a sound is coming from.
My car’s steering wheel started a curious faint tremble that improved during the day as it was driven. This went on for weeks, gradually getting just a little bit worse until I was alarmed enough to take it to a service garage. The man there told me it was one of the front tires slowly splitting from the inside. And that so long as I would have to buy two front tires (it’s dangerous to drive on one new front tire and one old one), I might as well buy four, as they all were, to some significant degree, worn. And to think I was going to drive alone to Florida in that car!
I haven’t had to buy tires in a long time and even though I went to Costco it was an expensive purchase. Then it cost another hundred dollars to get the car aligned on its new wheels (all four were running a little pigeon-toed when first installed). And this morning I had to go have a chipped tooth repaired. It’s turning out to be a very expensive February, I’m glad it’s almost over.
I’ve been asked to provide a blurb for a new author’s first mystery novel set in and about a co-op craft shop over in Wisconsin. I’ve just started it. First impression: a charming story told by an author who is still earning her writing chops. But she seems to know what she’s talking about, so it’ll be easy to keep on reading.
Does anyone know what to do about a cat whose breath is getting bad? She eating the same diet she was on when we got her a year ago, her teeth seem clean and white, and she doesn’t seem sick or bloated.
The rector at our church has chosen to focus on life after death for his Lenten series Wednesday evenings. He has given us a good book on the topic that is mostly anecdotes the author (an MD/PhD) has collected from people who have experienced near death episodes. I’m interested in the topic, I’ve been reading about it for many years. It’ll be interesting to see how Lenten series shapes up, as he likes to open his talks up to his audience for discussion.
Florida was great! I sent home a short entry for last Tuesday, but Ellen couldn’t figure out how to post it, so . . .
It is wonderful to get out of the car at an airline terminal in two degree weather, go inside and go on an airplane ride for three and a half hours, and walk out of another terminal into seventy-five degree weather. America is a great country, smart enough to get its empire all in one place instead of spread out in bits all over the world, so it’s a short trip to whatever climate you want. Fort Meyers set two high-temperature records the four days I was down there. I got the start of my summer tan sitting outside my niece and nephew’s house and walking the beach on Sanibel Island collecting shells. My niece and nephew were wonderful hosts, I had a relaxing and interesting and comfortable time. Sometimes even a brief break can restore a person’s soul, I don’t think I realized how much I needed that break. Joe and Reggie have a charming little house, a friendly rescue cat that’s part lynx (!) and a very friendly dog of a breed I’d never heard of before: black-mouthed cur. I though “cur” was a slur word, but here’s a middle-size short hair tan dog with big black patches over each eye with that word a part of her breed name. She greeted me at the door with wagging tail and came often to rest her head on my knee to ask for strokes.
And I’m back at work on Tying the Knot. Life is good.
I’m in Florida! And the weather’s fine. It cools down in the evening, but the days are nice and hot. Been to the beach of Sanibel Island and picked up some pretty shells, bought some earrings and a bright pink hooded sweatshirt. It is so lovely to go outside in the morning in shorts and top, to sit in the sun and get really warm. The sun falls like a benediction on my face. I think of the far frozen north, where the temperature struggles to reach double figures above zero, and I try to rise to pity for those poor folks. But I’m so busy enjoying the warmth, the palm trees, the kind niece and her sweet husband, that I just can’t quite make it to true pity. Especially when the forecast is for more of the same. I’ll be home Friday.
Wednesday is Ash Wednesday, we’re going to go get our foreheads smudged with the black ashes of last year’s palms. “Remember man, that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return.” And Lent begins.
I finished the short story! I’m hoping, hoping, hoping that means the long writer’s block is ending. The story is close to six thousand words and has two (count ‘em) clever clues embedded in it. It’s not my best writing, but it’s a good story and I’m all cock-a-hoop over it. It’s for the third volume of an anthology called Cooked to Death, pub date not set as yet. My story is called “Joyous Death.” A connection I made with the Hennepin County Medical Examiner worked out really well, he was extremely helpful and I’d like to consult with him again.
I’m going to Florida! I have a niece living near Fort Myers who has been asking me to visit, and I’ve wanted to, but several things have held me back – and finally her husband cut through my worries and simply bought me a plane ticket. So I don’t have to drive alone in an aging car trying to work in a minor detour to visit my sister in Terre Haute. Just go to the airport and fly down for a week. And not bring back the antique chair she picked up for me; will do that another time. See? Just cut down to the basics and it gets simple. You know, that might make a great title for another short mystery: “Getting Back to Basics.” Hmmmm . . .