Stirred

 Tomorrow we're going to Collette's dad's cottage for our yearly Christmas-shopping, hanging-out-playing-board-games overnight thing. Yesterday before I went out to the craft show I made lemon pepper chicken in the instant pot and used the bones to make chicken stock so I could make soup for the cottage today. Then I had a massage this afternoon that was helpful but really painful, came home and sat on the couch for an hour and almost decided to go up to bed before Matt even got home and realized I still needed to make the soup.

It's this soup. I make it at least a couple of times a year, but I usually don't make the pesto because it's good enough without it. One time I used the full amount of red curry paste and it was a little harsh, and every time since I've thought I could have put in a little more red curry paste. I sometimes think it's a little too sweet, and then everyone else insists that it's perfect and I should not screw with it. Matt chopped the sweet potatoes for me last night so I didn't have to cripple my hands. He came home while it was simmering and we watched a couple of episodes of Shrinking, with a Facetime with Eve in the middle. Then I got up to puree the soup with my immersion blender, which started making a noise like a dying cat every time I pressed the stop button. Matt said I might need a new one, but then said his mom had given me this one so I had to keep it forever in her memory (because we typically use really shitty humour to deal with our grief). I reassured him that this was actually my second one, and the first one had actually died before she did.

This made me a little sad, but also happy, because I remembered when she was visiting and I made butternut squash soup and she watched me pouring it from the pot to the blender and back again to puree it, and the next day she went out and bought me an immersion blender so she never had to see that horrifying scene again. She had a knack for giving me the exact thing I needed when I needed it.