Yesterday I finally made the soup. There has been some improvement. It is edible. Edible Grade E like the food served in school cafeterias. All of those wonderful ingredients forced to take part in a dismal dirge instead of a soaring symphony, I am sorry carrots and onions and parsnips and celery and potatoes and beef broth and tomatoes and beef. So I will try again at a later date. This time it will be soup parmentier. Onward and downward, that's my soup motto.
I will waste no more beef on soup. I hold beef in too much reverance to embarrass it so. Steaks, roasts, hamburgers, and stir-fry, those are the destinations for any further beef purchases. Let chicken be relegated to the soup pot instead of beef.
Yesterday was a good day for walking. The air was pleasant with a nice nip in the air. The plants and I are awaiting Spring. The plants are looking forward to it more than I am. The way the weather is now is perfect for me. The sugar maples all around town are tapped and the sap is flowing. The flow from Winter to Spring has begun. The yards with many trees all look like intensive care units with tubes stretching all about. Forty gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup, at times it seems unfair to the trees. How will the sap be reduced? By boiling it over a wood fire, I think that the maple trees must feel the same way about us that we feel about Dracula.
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