What's Left

 54 this morning, dampness on the deck, probably from a heavy dew. Full moon last night.

Soup. We love it, and I make quite a bit of it. In the cellar there are probably 30 jars of vegetable soup alone. Then there's the cabbage soup, stuffed pepper soup, corn chowder, split pea, ham and bean, chili beans...the list goes on.

So why did I make a veggie soup from scratch, with all that to choose from?

The answer is probably the same as many of you might reply: leftovers and bits and pieces in the fridge. There was some chicken from a take-out box bought when we were on the road. There was the broth from a pot of kale, one baked potato, half of a large tomato I bought at a farmers market to make one last tomato sandwich for the season. Also half an onion that was getting a little dried out, and the last, very small cabbage from the garden.

So all these bits went into the pot, even the chicken bones to be fished out later. I added some sliced carrots, and peas and corn from the freezer, along with some bay leaves, Worchestershire sauce, chopped garlic, paprika, some chicken broth, salt and pepper. And suddenly, instead of the small batch I thought I was going to make, there was a Dutch oven full, enough that it has lasted us for three days.

This is all that's left. 

This post reminds me of Sue at A Smaller Simpler Life, who often writes about ways to extend food and use up all the leftover bits. She even does challenges like trying to cook using WWII rations. I suppose I have cooked this way all my life, because I hate to waste anything. There is a real satisfaction in making something from almost nothing. 

I use up my leftover tea, too, making it into sweet tea, as they called iced tea here in the mountains. I don't make it very sweet, though, since Larry can't have much sugar and I just prefer it unsweetened. 

It is another very warm day today,  about 75 again. I re-potted a begonia that I'd brought inside because it was terribly crowded in its original pot. I do like to have begonias inside in the winter even though they are very messy, sropping leaves and petals everywhere. I also brought in a couple geraniums even though I have poor luck keeping them alive. My Christmas cacti are putting out buds now, so if they can hold on to them we may have flowers soon. This gas heat is so hard on plants, even if we run the humidifier.

The moon has been beautiful the past few nights. It was so light at 3 a.m. you could have worked outside easily. Not that we did! But it was an ethereal,  ghostly night. 

I had to laugh at myself last evening. I worked at the antique mall and came home exhausted. So of course I made a pot of tea, Bewley's Gold this time. It suddenly hit me that I was drinking Irish tea out of Irish Belleek China, reading a book set in Ireland, while the radio show Thistle and Shamrock played on the radio! A virtual escape to the green isle, I think. It worked, as ibsoon felt much better.

The book I am reading is called An Irish Love Story, by Patrick Taylor. I can't say it is really good, but it is a pleasant read. Lots of real medical details mixed in, as the author is a physician. It reminds me just a little of the James Herriot books and I wonder if the author took his inspiration from them? I think the story--and I think there may be other, a series actually--could make a TV series with a bit of beefing up. But a fun read, especially all the Irish slang and unfamiliar words that I have had to look up. Like a duncher--which is what we call a flat cap of the type worn by golfers. Duncher sounds so much more interesting tbough.

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