Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Split Pea Soup and Mozart

Not particularly cold - about 36 degrees.

Cold enough to invigorate, quiet enough to stir the imagination. Hunger flits around the edges of consciousness, speaking clearly to Imagination. Madam Curiosity is invited to play.

They whisper merrily, "Cherie is alone. She's listening to Mozart, wearing her thick, woolly socks, warming her fingers - especially the swollen one - around a mug of hot jasmine tea. She's standing at the window gazing at the brilliant colors of autumn - and smiling peacefully. No question, she will play with us."

And the idea of creamy green pea soup is born.

My friends Hunger, Imagination, and Curiosity get the ball rolling. Skill and Experience join in.

Hunger inspires. Imagination plans the menu, lights a candle, selects captivating music. Curiosity finds herbs in the garden, ham hock and chicken stock in the freezer, garlic and onion in the cold room, a jar of peas in the back of the pantry, and leftover carrot sticks from the weekend party. Soon a kettle of soup is simmering, Soon the girls return from French class. Soon Tom enters the back door pleasantly humming.

"Something smells Good!"

Mozart's uplifting continues, woolly socks faithfully warm. Soup's aroma cheers. In the creative corner of my mind The Friends converse about winter possibilities.

My smile remains.


cecily said...

You make cold and winter sound so attractive I'm almost wishing... but NO! Summer it is down here (well, spring but it's warming up!) and I'm happy with that. :-)

tom and Cherie Klusman said...

The soup was good, took some to work also. It was GREAT!

Sandy said...

As I sit here reading your post in my wooley pjs, I wish you lived next door. I'll be on my way to work soon and a bowl of split pea soup would be so good for lunch! Yummmm!

Cherie said...

It's weird, isn't it Cecily, our opposite seasons. When you speak of summer during winter I envy. When the spring awakens for you, I sigh. And during my gray months when you are picking berries and having summer patio parties I can only pull up warm memories from my mind. And yet, all things in their times - and we both know this. Yes, it's weird. You enjoy your beautiful spring and I'll keep finding the beauty in my autumn. You peel off clothing layers and I'll put them on. You eat fresh peas and I'll cook dried ones into soup. And we will count our blessings, you and me.

Tom, always happy to please you, kind sir.

Sandy: I often wish you lived next door, too. We'd be good for each other!

cecily said...

We so need a blogging meet up! My place anyone? It's suuuumer here!!! :-)

Cherie said...

I'm in, Cecily! Someone send me a round-trip ticket to Tassie, ASAP!