Chicken soup

I must say the first of my farmers market chickens was put to good use this afternoon: soup. I love the idea of chicken soup when sick because in addition to its purported healing powers, it also helps keep you hydrated. I struggle to do so on the best of days and when I'm feeling under the weather find my resolve to down those eight glasses weaker still. I didn't have any celery but leeks, spring onions, roasted garlic and carrots sufficed nicely as my base. Salt, pepper, bay leaves, and lemon, thyme, cinnamon, a touch of nutmeg and a late addition of wide egg noodles rounded things out. The noodles alone scream "comfort's a'coming" and when in a good soup, well, I feel pretty satisfied.

Still on the couch: in the news

See? I am behaving myself; though Percy needs a walk, I have not taken him. Except for getting a beautiful pot of lemony, leeky chicken soup simmering away in my trusty Staub (it smells amazing!), I've stayed put on the couch, reading. It is so quiet here without my little guys. They came over after camp to pick up the overnight bag I'd packed and fixings for tomorrow's lunches, and then they headed off to Camp Grandma. They are just the cutest little bugs. Anyway, I've been reading and came across this shocking-to-me stat:

"In a new study conducted by Yale University's Rudd Center for Food Policy and Obesity, researchers found that 84 percent of parents of children between the ages of 2 and 11 have taken their children to eat at a fast-food restaurant in the past seven days." -the current Washington Parent

And just in case you've stopped being depressed about the meat industry in the U.S., please review this article recently posted on Grist. Bottom line is that the USDA instated a rule that meat be labeled with its country of origin and slaughter and a number of importers/packers/grocers/etc want that overturned. When people aren't proud of telling you about where the food they sell you comes from or what's in it, that's scary because there's a reason for their opacity.

Oh, bah!

Well, it appears I have walking pneumonia, and really, I couldn't be less excited about that. I am glad I went to the doctor and that I now have a good supply of Levoquin, but I am not happy to feel like such a heap of crud. While at her office, I asked about a sore spot on my foot that's been noticeable for months. Ten minutes later, I found myself in the X-ray room; during that procedure, the technician asked if I had a cold and when I said, "no actually, walking pneumonia," she exclaimed, "oh my gosh, I know people who have died from that." Find and use your filter, honey! I'm sure the foot thing is nothing, but seriously, people. I'm not getting that old, that quickly, am I? Naturally Tom left for NY this morning.

As such, I wish to send a virtual shout-out (since I really have no voice) to my in-laws who are so kindly and enthusiastically picking the boys up at camp and then keeping them overnight. I am a lucky and appreciative girl.

Back to my hot water/lemon/honey concoction.