Cookies, Asthma, and Turkey Soup

Really, that's what's going on in my life right now. Those three things. There's more than that, don't get me wrong -- like my job (going well), dating (occasionally), and getting birthday flowers from the people from the office (well, my boss, anyway -- she's the one who has it all together). All in all, things are going rather well.

I have six large bags of Holiday Cookies in my freezer. Yes, I did listen to Perry Como -- the second, inferior tape, anyway -- while baking them. But really, I still have more cookies yet to bake. I hope everyone I know wants some cookies, otherwise I'll have them until we see 70 degree weather again.

--As a side note, my mother got me a lot of baking supplies for my birthday... how 1950's repressed housewife is that? But I don't care. I like baking. I embrace my domesticity. And I got some cool silicon baking mats that they didn't have in the 1950's, so it's okay.

I have Asthma. Yes, me, Miss Healthy. I have asthma. Now, it's not the wheeze-until-you-can't-breathe asthma, it's the have-a-twitchy-trachea-and-have-coughing-fits asthma. Why do I all of a sudden now have asthma, you may ask? I don't know. I blame Global Warming.

--Which, if you're wondering, global warming is actually a pretty good reason. It turns out that ragweed pollen levels have been through the roof the past few years because they thrive with higher levels of CO2. So, yes, global warming is a pretty good reason. Not that it does me any good to know. I still have asthma.

I have Turkey Soup. A lot of it. You know, there's only one of me (and frankly, that's a good thing for many reasons), but I always seem to cook enough soup for 10 of me. Not that I won't eat it. It's good. It's my mom's recipe, made from the turkey carcass (a happy, organic turkey I bought for Thanksgiving). Turkey Carcass Soup is always good. But I do get weary of the Turkey Carcass Soup after, oh, say, the 15th lunch I've made of it. But I still eat it. It takes a little longer to shove it down on that 15th day, but I do it.

--And in my defense (I had to make some side note, or my old high school English teachers would come back to haunt me), it's hard to make anything for just one person. What, shall I cut a quarter of each vegetable I want to put in? That's just annoying. And I do like leftovers. It's just that I always want this and this and this in the soup. Oh, and then, I should put this in. Oh, and I forgot about this. And then I have to put that in. ...And this is how I wind up with a vat of soup.

Looks like I should have formed a better bond with those high school math teachers during the lessons on fractions. Or taken another cooking course.


Or just learn to eat more soup.