Day 61 came. Day 61 went. I slept through the end of it and am writing this a little late. That’s the trouble with Julia being on holiday, there is no bustle and packing of bags in preparation for tomorrow. It was one of then better things about lockdown and something to look forward to when we retire. That and getting up when I feel like it instead of when the clock demands it.
Counting the days is becoming more difficult now that I have three months to consider. I will, no doubt, get used to it.
In poetry terms, Obsessed with Pipework is out, and I am in it. I can’t point you to a link because it is not online and I can’t quote myself because I should give them some time before I do that. Not sure how long as, unlike some magazines, they don’t specify. I will do it in a couple of months if I remember. I like OWP because it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Nor does it let the process of not taking itself seriously become too serious, which is a fault of some magazines that try not to take themselves too seriously, if that makes sense.
Quality poems, captivating covers, laid back attitude and the editorial good taste to accept my work. That is an excellent magazine.
Today’s vegetable soup, which saw the end of several manky carrots, a fossilised parsnip and half a bag of ready cubed swedeΒ from the supermarket, turned out to be quite good. It also had onions and chilli. It was golden beige in colour and quite tasty with little red spots from the chillies. I foolishly put my taste-buds out of commission during the cooking because the chilli didn’t seem to be flavouring the soup. I added more, then more again. Still no result. So I tasted a slice (I was using fresh ones from the shop). Turns out that the slice I tasted was a great deal hotter than the previous slices I had added to the soup.
Congratulations on being a published author yet again. Your plan of submissions seems to be working out quite well.
I want to complain mildly about your post titles. I agree that they have the virtue of simplicity and avoid the temptation to use frightful puns, but they also signal the inexorable and rapid passing of time, something gentlemen of my age prefer not to think about.
Yes, I have been thinking about that myself. The passing of time seems much faster under the new title system. This and the mounting mental arithmetic means I am reconsidering the system.
Interestingly enough, my spouse is out of town for a few days too and all structure becomes whatever I make it. Hmmm–it isn’t as fun as it used to be. The cats demand a lot of food, and beyond that it’s all whatever I want–unusual after aeons of covid capitivity. Good-looking soup there–
Thank you. I really should try a different colour. Something green, perhaps . . .
Oh, congratulations on being published AGAIN! Bravo you! And that’s funny about the peppers. They really can burn out your mouth if you get a hot one.
I never seem to learn. The thought “let’s bite one and check” should really set5 alarms ringing, but never seems to register. π
Itβs word usage like manky that makes you a poetic star
Thank you LA. I wish there were more editors like you! π
π
I’d like that soup. Congrats on the publication
Thank you Derrick. I should have done a before and after picture. π
Congratulations on being included in OWP, Quercus!
Rick cooks with our own homegrown hot peppers, sometimes adds a little too much. π
π A friend of ours is of Caribbean ancestry – his idea of mild is too hot for me and his hot is disabling.
You will probably never eat this pepper then. π
https://pepperheadsforlife.com/the-scoville-scale/prik-kee-noo-pepper/
I will probably not even enter a room containing one. It doesn’t pay to take chances with these things. π
That soup looks gorgeous! Any day that has a soup like that is bound to be a good one.
As I grow older I find that soup is replacing many things in my life. π
We love soup, and Maine has a climate where soup can be eaten for many months. π
Same here! π