Thursday, March 13, 2014

72. I Love ... Stove Soup.

In Avonbank or Salt Harbour
there is a certain joy
in building a pot of soup
on the woodstove.

It speaks of a 
quiet and unhurried day.

It is a rare occasion,
but it need not be.
The stove is often on
and all it would take is to 
think of it.
And do it.

When I do,
it is a long and loving
adding bits
of this and that,
here and there.

It is a process,
an offering of my time
and love - 
simmering, stirring - 
nourishment and goodness.

And memories
of days when I had children about,
who also thought of
Stove Soup
as a special treat.
Not really because it was a big deal,
for any other reason than I had
convinced them it was,
with the excited pronouncement that we were having
'Stoooooooooooove Soup'.

One time they invited a friend over to join us
in that special occasion.
When she sat at the table, she said 
"This is just soup."
and my dear children corrected her immediately 
"NO! This Stoooooooooooove Soup"

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