tides of life

As I stir this soup, inspiration bubbles through the haze of the broth’s steamy whispers. I have been wondering when I’d meet you here again. Although it’s been some time for sure, the pause is all for good, I swear.

Life sometimes interrupts our best intentions of creative productivity. A single decision, seemingly slight at the time will shift everything into a new motion. Take this decision I made a little while back:

We’ve named her Piper because she is adorably vocal even at the most sleepy and inopportune times. 

Did we need another dog? Perhaps not. We thought that she’d spark new energy into Sage. There is, however, another reason for her joining our family — but, more on that in a few paragraphs. For now, let’s just say, this lil miss keeps the spare time occupied. 

Back to this soup…I have a friend visiting in thirty minutes. I am simmering this soup for us because the “toss everything in without care” method is how I play it these days in the kitchen with two dogs at my feet, murmuring for an answer as to why this pot is being readied before their own meals. I also know this soup is just the thing my friend and I will savor over thick conversation much needed after the time that’s been lost bewteen our visits. She is soon to move and we must take in another evening just like most weekly visits we’ve spent together over the past few years. All must be effortless. Couch bound. Hearty grub. Much laughter. Some tears on occasion. Always conversation that remains in mind and heart. And, sometimes, we must fill the cracks with junky television shows. A ladies night with a bff just the way it was meant to be.

This soup recipe was passed to me by Nils’s mum. I wrote about it, wowza, two years ago! And, you know what?! Two years to the date. How’s that for serendipity?! I really had no idea!

Motioning onward, follow that recipe for the original version. Tonight I made a few changes according to cravings:

1 can of potatoes, sliced (pour the can’s water into the pot too)
1 large bag of frozen chopped spinach
1 large bag of frozen sweet peas
2 boxes of organic vegetable broth

I also omitted:

chopped onions
red kidney beans
water
bouillon 

As I write this post, the Dutch oven is simmering all to the delight of my nostrils and to the curious annoyance of the dogs’ attentions. My friend is soon to arrive. Wait, here she is…I leave this writing aside while we catch up with glances and words and draws of winding sourdough bread grabs through the warm and filling soup. There are many changes on the horizon for us both so the television remains cold.

I suppose now is the moment to share what we’re abuzz about. This recipe is perhaps a fitting introduction to my other bit of news. As it is a family recipe being handed down to me from Nils’s mum, it’s so much more fitting than any other recipe I could have chosen. You see, I’m carrying her fifth grandchild-to-be. 

That’s right! We have a little one on the way and that’s is the main reason for my lack of attention to this space reserved for all things food and drink. Now that I’m just days shy of the halfway mark (and I’ve officially told my boss) I have found my way back here to you to share our amazing news. 

We are not finding out whether it’s a girl or boy. I like surprises. I also like planning a neutral nursery. And, I like surprises…

I also jumped at the opportunity to join Piper to our family as well since I grew up with a puppy and I’d love for our child to do the same. Our child. [Insert giddy grin]

So there you have it. All of my news. Since the moment I sat to write this post, there have been many interruptions. Two potty breaks for the pups (make that three). One pause for puppy play. A few stirs of the soup. A puppy nap. A visit with my friend. And, the baby’s bubbly moves. These familiar moments are those that pepper my life these days. The tides are turning in a new direction and as they always have in my life, they turn with force all at once, affecting most aspects with intense change. Seven years ago tides brought me to Cambridge. To my bartender. To my Sage. To Mattapoisett (on the weekends). Now, more movement is afoot and I must listen and follow. I will be here more frequently when I’m settled. Until then, I will listen when the muse calls without effort and share what I may with you.  

p.s. - While reading for edits, I got teary-eyed and not in the I cry at everything cuz I’m pregnant kinda way. I felt such emotion from being able to share this news with you. Putting these words and feelings and images out in this space just moves me. Sharing. Life. Wonderful. Thank you.