I just woke up about half an hour ago, with Mrs. Murphy screaming at me. As I answered her call, I thought about all the years gone by when I have made homemade soup, and all my kids,and adoptive kids who have come pelting to my door, just because they'd heard I had a pot of soup on the stove, or in the crock-pot, and came to drop by, to see if they could talk me out of a bowl or two. Word gets around fast.Not long ago, a little slip of a girl, Juanita by name, would drop everything else she was doing, dress her babies and drag them out in the snow to purloin a bowl of my great northern bean and ham soup. She would sit and eat until I thought she would explode and rave on about how good it was, and how did I learn to make such good soup! It does a mother's heart good to hear such praise from her extended family,and to see such a thin girl eat so well. I used to sit and gaze at her while she talked and ate, wondering how such a slim creature could put so much away...and how lovely and thin her eyelids were,and so shiny! I know that was a peculiar observation, but she had such big brown eyes, and pale skin, I used to wonder how such thin little eyelids could shut out the light when she closed them.Strangeness not withstanding, 'Nita, as I call her, was a lovely girl, with long black hair that was full and glossy, a beautiful slender face and body, and a passel of tow-headed children she took with her everywhere, who were so perfectly behaved, one hardly knew they were there.She would sweetly tell them where to sit, and they would sit there, maybe munch a cookie or sip a glass of milk, but they never wanted the soup.I suspect that they had been well fed before the visit,and after Nita and I spent an hour or two talking while she ate, she would notice they were getting tired, and after an unhurried few more minutes, of putting on coats and hats and gloves, Nita would hug me and murmur "thanks, Mom." She would take her babies home to bed. I always felt so relaxed and calm after such a nice visit from Nita, that often the notion of turning in early would seem the right thing to do, and after Yon son(who was just a teenager at the time) and I sat and yawned at each other for a while, we would turn out the lights and retire to our respective rooms.We always slept well on those nights. Not so when Bonnie would show up with her brood when I made chicken and dumplings. This rousing boistrous group would descend on us with suddeness and every last one of those red-heads would have a story to tell while they plowed through the soup! There was no quiet talk with this bunch.Every time I would find myself mixing up another batch of dumplings, and thanking my lucky stars I had started out with two chickens! Yet, I didn't mind.This loud, happy bunch of kids and their talkative mother were just as complimentary as Nita,just as welcome, and just as much a part of the family...and just as loved.The talk was similar, just faster and more of it, and when Bonnie decided it was time to go, it was always the same. OMG! Look at the time! I had no idea it was so late! And with a flurry and ruffling jarring, thumping of humanity, they would swoop out the door as suddenly as they had come, and Yon son and I would be standing there, breathless, wide awake and jazzed for hours, which was good, because we had the wreckage of a meal to clean up after.Still, I had gotten my hugs and thanks Mom's from each one as they left, and he and I would laugh and talk for hours of their visit. But it seems the hands down favorite, the one that all my kids and family and friends would come out for, was my homemade chili. I am not sure why, because frankly, I've never been terribly fond of most soups myself. Just certain dishes. But for those, I am very picky. I don't just throw any old thing in the pot, it has to be right, fresh and ripe and the very thing that goes into the soup or dish or chili, or I simply cannot serve it. I won't open a can of Mrs. CRIME'S chili beans, and call it good, because it isn't. Only dark red kidney beans for my chili,and I have the same attitude for the tomatoes, the ground beef, the onion, the red peppers, the cayanne,and all the other spices, and a splash of this and a dash of that. And it cooks all day, to the point, you can smell that wonderful aroma the moment you come through the front door.Sherry and her daughter used to come through the door calling" We're home! " And they were. Everybody would show up, and rally round to set the table,and Sherry would bring beverages for everybody, someone else would bring extra ice, someone would slice the cheese and put out the baskets of crackers..at least two kinds, and the bread basket, and sometimes we would have so many people to eat, and so few bowls, we would have to eat in shifts, or put some portions in cups...but it didn't matter. Those dinners were events, and everyone ate until they groaned and we all laughed and talked, of such times, we still hark back to today, and everyone says, what wonderful memories we made those days. Let's do it again. So we do.
OUI?
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