Midnight Musings

Phone call found on my answering machine from my son, "All right, this is bad. I was hoping that this was the cell phone number but apparently I was wrong. It's...sometime before 1:08 because my flight leaves at 1:08 and it's gonna start boarding in around ten minutes. I need you to be at the other airport I don't know when. Hang on a sec." End of message.

Why is it that I can't smell the smells from the kitchen when I'm in the kitchen? I mean, I make soup but can't smell it unless I go upstairs. I bake pie and banana bread and can't smell it until it's almost done, but from upstairs it smells yummy. I thought maybe it was sensory overkill but I can smell nothing in the kitchen and yet as soon as I get to the stairs, there it is. It makes me want to use cinnamon potpourri but I'm afraid the combination would kill my olfactory nerves forever. Hmmm...is there a temporary sensory death? Is death a relative term? 'Tis the season to contemplate Jesus' birth and then his death, which was certainly temporary though no less complete for the brevity of it. Born to die so that we might live. Wow - what a segue - from my cooking to salvation. Can't improve on that!

'night.

I guess I wasn't paying attention to the weather reports or something. I knew snow was expected this Monday night into Tuesday but waking up to the whiteness this morning was a complete surprise. It was fun to play with and then I had to make soup. It was a compulsion. I absolutely had to do it. I bought a chicken, carrots, celery and forgot the sage. I simmered it all afternoon. And then The Boy ate almost all of it. It's an 8-10 quart pot (apparently I have no idea how big my own pot really is) and he finished it. All he had to say was, "Well, if I was getting a cold before, I'm not now." So that was my good deed for the day. I protected my son's health whether he needed it or not. 'night