This week I will not be posting a recipe for soup, or any other food for that matter. Truth is this little blog is an experiment that has, I think, gone awry. I had hoped to make a simple and delicious soup each and every week then post about it here. Several things have went wrong ...
First off, there is the simple matter of time. I work outside the home - or at least I do for now - and the job itself, along with commuting back and forth, does take a toll. Also, I have the most spoiled family in the universe - used to me doing all the laundry, housework, grocery shopping, etc. - I often find it difficult just to make it through the day.
Next, there is what I call the Male Soup Aversion. My husband will eat just about anything, but for some reason unbeknownst to me, he does not consider soup an actual meal. And peparing two meals is a lot of work.
Lastly, every thing you've heard about the recent economy is true. After fifteen years with the same company, come January, my hubby will no longer have a job. And to make matters worse, the place I work is rumored to to be shutting down soon as well.
Cooking has become a drudgery. My heart just isn't in it. Too many things going on in my mind. But that doesn't mean we've completely stopped eating or joined the fast food masses or anything. We actually had some pretty good taco's last night. And, as I type, I have a giant blob of no-knead bread rising on the counter. There's something so therapeutic about baking bread(!).
Anyway, it does seem eerily like The Grapes of Wrath. I know at least 30 people who have recently lost their jobs. And oddly enough, when I first began this blog, on a whim, a little over a year ago, I almost called it Soup Lines. But being from Oklahoma, I quickly realized the negative connotations of such a title. Too many people like myself had family who had suffered through the dust bowl. I remember looking at photos of my grandmother's family, standing in front of a dilapidated home, with what appeared to be "snow" knee deep, but was actually a foot-and-a-half of sand. Grandma used to say, "You don't know what it's like to have to stand in soup lines."
Thankfully, the only soup I plan on standing in line for is at a local cafe. But things are a little scary right now. So if you're passing through Oklahoma and see a Chevy Equinox loaded down with pots and pans and kitchen utensils piled on top, that'll be me, with my family, headed west, or wherever the road takes us, probably to the next soup line. I hope.