My hands smell of ginger and garlic and cumin because I am making one of my favorite soups which is the New York Time's Creamy Cashew Butternut Squash Soup. I make mine, however, with acorn squash and sweet potatoes and I think that the sweet potatoes are a truly southern gourmet addition but that's just my own personal opinion.
I just put a huge loaf of sourdough, oat bran, and leftover-mashed-potatoes bread into the oven. It is more of a breathing mass of jiggling life than it is of what we think of as dough.
And those two things shall be our supper.
We've been getting toad-strangling rain all day in bands thrown off from Hurricane Sally which hit the Alabama coast as a Category 2 storm which isn't the most powerful but powerful enough, trust me. And because it moved so very, very slowly over the gulf it is a major rain producer and there have been floods from Alabama all the way across to the panhandle of Florida. We've been getting warnings and again, there have been times today when my yard was flooded. Lily has been sending pictures of her yard which has a small lake deep enough for the children to put on their swimsuits and wade into.
We are so lucky that that's all we're getting. I've seen pictures of bridges out and water up to the middles of cars in Pensacola.
Two and a half more months of hurricane season.
Blogger won't let me post pictures tonight which should not be a huge disappointment for you as the only pictures I have are of rain and puddles. It's been a rather quiet day for me. I woke up this morning from dreams that were not pleasing at all, to say the least. One of them, a variation on my house dreams, had changed the setting from a huge place with endless hallways and rooms and levels to a trailer which did have an upstairs and a downstairs but it was as crowded and packed with junk as any of these dreams AND it was Christmas and I was trying to figure out what to give my family members from the pile of things I'd shopped for, mere trinkets mostly, and I needed to wrap everything and it was so crowded and filled with crap in the space that I could not lay everything out, much less have room to wrap anything and then I thought about how I really did need to make Christmas dinner and there was just no way and I kept saying, "I hate Christmas, I hate Christmas, I hate Christmas."
Also, there were a whole lot of people there.
Probably all of them expecting a fine Christmas feast.
So when I woke up, I already felt overwhelmed and depressed and sad and frustrated and even angry and almost wanted to just stay in bed with Jack but I did not want to chance another dream like that so I got up which is what one does.
I've done a little crocheting. I watched a few more episodes of The Office. And perhaps motivated by the dream I ordered birthday presents for all of our September birthday babies and a little something-something for my grandchildren who were NOT born in September, selling my soul to Amazon who no doubt will use it for packing material when they ship harvested glacial ice to hell.
And so, that's how it goes here today. We dodged a bullet with a hurricane, we've probably caught up on any rain deficits we may have had, and right now I'm watching squirrels and cardinals feed from the pile of old bird seed I threw into the yard yesterday because it had become infested with tiny bugs. The chickens have been scratching at that all day, too, whenever it was dry enough for them to not risk drowning.
And now it is raining again.
I am too rain-dumbed and life-beaten to have anything else to say.