I was outside, doing what ended up as only a tiny percentage of my fall yard cleanup, when I thought, "I need soup." Since we had not recently had dinner out involving soup, there was no soup in the refrigerator:
I went mad, went to the grocery, and started a crazed soupfest. Soupfest in Progress:
The easiest to make was Mushroom and Wild Rice:
Next done was the infamous Cream of Carpet soup.
Really, it's Cream of Broccoli. However, Gary once drove it to a work function, and the crock pot tipped over just as he was pulling in to the parking spot. He scooped it off the car floor, plopped it back in the crock pot, and left the crock pot on his desk while he drove home to shop-vac the car. However, his warnings about the soup didn't reach the ears of the party organizers, and it was half gone: floor dirt, carpet fibers and all by the time he got back. Of course, I had an identical crock pot biscuits and gravy experience, except I didn't even think of warning my co-workers. I would have gotten away with it if they hadn't found that penny.
Potato soup, which would have been Roasted Garlic and Potato soup had I remembered the garlic:
Acorn Squash, which was new for me:
And finally, Chicken soup:
No soup is complete until Gary has tasted it:
I wonder if Gary has made the connection between his behavior yesterday and my sudden domesticity? Soup = Love.