All Souped Up!

Yesterday, Robert Birming wrote about a Swedish tradition of eating pea soup and pancakes on a Thursday (prior to fasting on Friday) a tradition I can get behind wholeheartedly. Especially as, during the winter months with snow on the ground and bitterly cold temperatures outside, I love to make soup at least once a week.

Not only because it’s cheap, filling, soul-warming food but because it’s another way to get the veggies in. And while I don’t do pea soup nearly enough, I do have 3-4 favourites I make in rotation or, when I can grab the veggies themselves.

There’s red pepper and tomato soup, like we had last night for dinner with a country loaf and vegan cheddar. Also leak and potato, another simple easy soup to make. Another one of my favourites is roasted cauliflower soup, which is simplicity itself to make.

The fun thing about veggie soups is you can pretty much roast any root vegetable, throw in some lentils, pasta, or pulses for extra body with some good stock and voila, you have an incredibly healthy dinner.

And you, are you a soup lover and do you make your own, from scratch?

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Just Another Face In The Crowd

I’m nondescript. Of average female height, do not stand out in a crowd as such, and am probably considered average to look at with short semi blond mousy hair, petaled blue eyes and an unmemorable face unless, you are paying attention. Then, you might see the small scar to one side of my nose, and then remark on the odd shaped nose sat above somewhat thin lips.

Definitely not pretty and nothing to write home about. Sometimes this to my advantage if I want to disappear into a crowd and not be noticed. But mostly it means I get served last at the deli counter when I go in for sliced meat or potato salad.

Does that matter in the long run? Probably not. When you look at the big picture being average is okay, most of the time. I can’t say I enjoy it when I want prompt service, but hey, it’s something I’ve adapted to however much I wish otherwise. This is it, this is my life and, at my age, it’s a little late to complain or, worse, try to change.

I am who I am. I look how I do thanks to my parents and a random set of genes shaken not stirred to perfection. Thankfully, I’m use to the face that stares back at me from out of the mirror (hi, Alex).

And you?

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

  1. Though it is true, one eye has a large brown spot in it which, according to my mother is inherited from her side of the family. She had it but not her sister. I have it but not my sister. My mum’s mum had it but not her sister. You see what I mean. Also, my gran was told by a traveller it was the mark of a witch, an Irish thing apparently.

Rocking the 60s

Way back when, and I’m talking the mid-60s in Singapore, when my sister (who is ten years older than me) worked part time for an Army liaison officer, on base. She was part of a team who organised rock bands tours and, as a result, because of her work, I got to meet with some of the biggest musical bands of the era.

This included, at the time, over a 3 year period, bands such as The Rolling Stones, The Yardbirds (inc. Jimmy Page), the Walker Brothers, and later, Jimmy Page’s brand new band, Led Zeppelin. Then there was the Kinks, and Manfred Mann and later, Herman’s Hermits, with Peter Noone.

I can remember being in and around all these young up and coming rock stars of the day, dressed in my Sunday best, following my sister around as, star struck, she got autographs and propositioned to come on tour with them. I remember shaking hands and, at the very grown up age of 8, talking to various members of these bands like they were my older brother, asking about their mothers and family like we were all visiting together.

I often wonder what, if any, impression I left on any of them after our brief and sometimes, lengthy encounters. Especially as I had my photograph taken with any number of them. It would be fun to think that somewhere down the line, in a book, or museum, or on someone’s mantle piece, there’s me lurking in the background of a photo of a famous mega rock band who even now, are still rocking the world.

I wonder if my sister still has her collection of photos and autographs, along with probably some amazing memories?

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

AMA #1

The first question I got asked for Annie’s #AMA (Ask Me Anything) challenge earlier this year, was from Lou Plummer in which he asks:

“If you could work as a tour guide in one of the places you’ve traveled to, where would you pick? And why?”

Of course, for me, there is only one place and that’s Singapore. An island that was a huge part of my impressionable childhood years, those years from 8 through to 11. As an adult I’ve dreamed of and yes schemed to get back there for a visit, though it’s true the island I remember has changed, vastly, in the intervening years. And what was once a place of idyll life for me, is now a roaring metropolis of the 21st century, a tech hub, a tourist mecca, but still … As a tour guide? Hmm …

All those flashy hot spot amid the history and splendour of a place I remember maybe gives me a different perspective to be a Tour Guide. One able to recount the history in a way others cannot. I remember the riots during the 60s, I remember the civil unrest, I remember people being shot at, the undeclared war going on in the shadows between super powers like the US and UK, pushing to influence a people who wanted nothing to do with the colonialism of the day.

It’s easy to be a tour guide taking people to the Botanic Gardens, or to the Raffles Hotel, or one of the latest landmarks … but what about the advance of the Japanese on Singapore during WWII, or what happened at Changi prison? Or that, as a child, my parents and I met the Prime Minster of the day, Lee Kuan Yew.

I wonder if I would be an interesting tour guide or not, given maybe the average tourist probably wouldn’t want to know any of the painful history of this tiny nation island.

But then again, who knows.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

And So, It Begins

It’s December first and for us, the official start of Christmas. We spent most of yesterday tidying up the apartment prior to putting the Christmas tree up, and hanging our favourite decorations, only to make more of a mess. Thankfully, the OH did another quick turn about with the hoover. Ain’t I the lucky one?

We’re not big on doing Advent Calendars, it was never a tradition for me as a kid growing up. With six kids to cope with at Christmas, my parents had to prioritise every last penny towards the necessary things. Though, we’d get a well filled stocking that got slowly filled over the course of December with little gifts and treats.

The OH suggested we do something similar by putting a lot of silly little things in our stockings. Not that we’re hard up for money or anything. It’s just what do you buy someone who wants for nothing?

Pre Covid we had already started weaning ourselves off buying presents and chose instead to gift to a number of our favourite charities. We can’t make a lot of difference in the world, but gifting can help especially at this time of year.

As for the rest of the family? We’re a small group this side of the pond, so we do one main present each, though my sister-in-law always goes crazy. No matter what pact we’ve agreed on, she will always do her own thing. And, well, to be honest, I love her for her generosity. She always makes Christmas sparkle for me. Especially as this isn’t my favourite time of year.

And you, do you buy advent calendars, or make them yourself? And what other traditions, if any, do you have leading up to the big day?

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧