The mountain outside my office window is capped with snow. That’s a fairly unusual occurrence for our central coast California region. Odd weather. Obviously, it’s due to not enough people using those squiggly lightbulbs.
We had another of our infamous extended family birthdays yesterday evening. Way too much food, fire in the wood stove, a riot of children, and lots of hidden presents. A young nephew was one of those being feted. As he is in a cowboy stage, my wife’s and my presents scored a bullseye: working leather chaps to add to his collection of ten-gallon hat, gunbelt, and boots, and one of the new, hardcover Tintin compilations. You can never go wrong with Tintin.
I’ve discovered that split pea soup does not bother me in the slightest. I keep a whole drawerful in my desk of the little one ounce cup versions. With my metabolism, I need to eat constantly; otherwise, I’ll blow away in the wind like a tumbleweed. Okay. I’m off to wrap myself around some split pea soup before I fade into nothingness.
Filed in the Off-Off-Broadway version of Random.
Okay, you had me worried there for a minute: you keep a whole drawerful of split pea soup in your desk…? Oh, in little cups. That’s different. I was having visions of opening the drawer and being confronted by a sea of green.
What a great idea. I never thought of that. I would have to line the drawer with some of food-grade material. Perhaps stainless steel sheathing. It would also need some kind of heating element built into the frame. And then a hole for a straw in the top of my desk. Or maybe a hatch for a spoon. I suppose drinking soup through a straw is bad manners.