Hello all

This afternoon I sat outside and wrote in my lovely Poppy Journal to record what had been happening for me today. I share it with you now:

Sunday 2nd March 2014

I’m sitting out the back as the sun slowly begins its descent into another hemisphere where it will bring forth a new day for someone else. It’s been a lovely lazy Sunday on this second day of autumn.  A cool breeze is coming in as I squint my eyes to avoid the setting sun hitting me in the face. I can hear chaos in the distance out on the highway: an ambulance siren rings out over the roar of traffic as sun-lovers return home from our Gold Coast beaches.

Normally, I’m getting ready for 6pm Mass at this hour but today Geoff and I are too weary from our mercy dash to Hervey Bay and everything that followed, to go. It’s not at all like us, for we love going to Church; we love the singing, the camaraderie and the sacred feeling of nourishing our souls and our spirits for the week ahead. But not today. It feels so decadent to stay put and do nothing.

We even refused an invitation to see our grandchildren and have afternoon tea at Grandma Pat’s house. No, it’s not like us at all, but this is a time of restoration. Besides, Geoff is exhausted and come home to work on Friday and has continued to do more of it here at home. Not bad for a 72-year-old at all!

This is me!

This is me!

Instead, we sat down to watch Poirot, the famous Agatha Christie detective, try to solve the last murder of his career, before dying ever so graciously of heart problems in his bed … alone. Oh no, not Poirot (alias David Suchet) now old and frail, gone forever from our screens! I could hardly believe it. Poor Captain Hastings (also old) his life-long friend and cohort was beside himself with sorrow. I even obliged with a few tears of my own.

How could Agatha Christie kill him off like that? But she did … and very cleverly too. You will have to watch this last episode of a new series of Poirot to see it for yourself dear friends. However, I got no sympathy from Geoff, who promptly fell asleep 15 minutes after we started watching it! And he doesn’t want any updates so he can watch it later. I’ll just have to contain myself and keep it to myself a bit longer yet. Oh drat …

I’ve been living on soup these last few days whilst I’ve felt crook. There is something about Chicken Soup for the Soul at a time like this. It calms the nerves and restores the body. You do know friends, that this has been scientifically proven to be true … it’s something to do with boiling up the chicken bones.

Most people wouldn’t get out of bed to make chicken soup as I did on Friday when Geoff was working. It always feels so therapeutic for me and I know how good I will feel when I eat it for lunch. I always keep chicken thighs (bone in) in the freezer to pull out for such a time as this.

Chicken Soup for the Soul Recipe:

All you do is throw it in a pot with 5/6 cups of chicken stock (I used left-over vegetable water I keep in the freezer and add a good chicken stock powder to it) a chopped onion, some chopped celery stalks, two carrots, seasoning (I added 1 teas Persian spice powder) and boil it up for 40 minutes until the chicken is tender. You can add some rice or noodles towards the end if you want it thicker, but on this occasion, I had it without any and loved it.

lazy sundayAnd I made soup again today as the chicken soup ran out yesterday. Today I make lentil soup but I will give you that recipe later or I’ll put it on my Recipe tab for you to find on my Home page.

So there you have it: a lovely lazy Sunday … just what the doctor ordered. You know, I remember the days when people generally stayed at home on Sundays and restored themselves. Some would start with church in the morning, followed by a roast lunch on the table by 1pm and then a snooze with the papers after lunch. No Sunday shopping. Not even any T.V. No running around except perhaps to visit relatives for lunch and then doing your napping at their house.

Sometimes dear friends, I think it’s a shame that we no longer do this. We’re so much more sophisticated today … aren’t we? Or so we tell ourselves anyway. But somehow I think we threw the baby out with the bathwater … you know what I mean … we’ve gone to the other extreme and now we don’t know how to stop and do nothing.

If you are having any trouble learning how folks, come around to MY house and I’ll teach you how!