I am exhausted. I could go to sleep and it’s only 9:15. I imagine this is the type of thing one gets used to, when shifts are not shifts but rather stable working hours. But I am not there. And neither is my body. It’s remarkable how much your brain/psyche/muscles become accustomed to things once they become a habit. It’s scary and encouraging at the same time.

I’m sorry I haven’t been posting here much lately. The way it seems to work out is something like this: When I don’t have much work, my life is boring and I don’t have much to say, and when I’m working all the time, my life becomes work, and because my work relies on confidentiality, I can’t say anything. Follow?

One thing I can say is what I’ve noticed - I’m really giving everything to this job. It’s by no means a career, but the students are so wonderful, and I enjoy talking to them, so I feel energized by what I’m doing. Except I come home and I’m exhausted and a bit grumpy, but still excited for the next day.

Other good things: Flowers from R’s mom during a particularly brutal sickness, a Sunday morning trip with R to see my favorite goat, bowling for charity next weekend (details to come…)

This really should be a picture of cold, wintry skies and blowing snow. But I like to remain hopeful that spring will soon return, and when R brought me home these roses on Sunday, I couldn’t help but photograph them. They make for a much prettier picture than the grey Toronto sky, I promise!

I am missing things I’ve never had, and I wonder where that feeling comes from. Is it the social imaginary? Popular culture? A past life? Kidding on the last one… but really…

R. and I often talk about the farm that we will one day have. We watch videos of ducks. I say we need two dogs and no cats. A handful of cows and no horses. Definitely no horses. Sheep are OK, but goats are better. A donkey would be great if we could fit her in. Lots of chickens. Sustainable living. Homemade everything. One day.

I heard a great quote today: “Inch by inch, life’s a cinch. Yard by yard, life is hard”. I guess I should put that into practice, Non? I become impatient so easily…

Quartering chickens is one thing I really don’t enjoy doing. Nothing about the process is enjoyable. There’s the paranoia of washing your hands obsessively so not to contaminate anything and of course there’s the visual… unpleasantness. That said, I would do it all over again to have this curried cream of chicken soup. There’s something about having soup in winter that’s just so right. I also love the smell of curry… especially in something homemade.

I based my recipe from a cookbook called the Silver Palate.

Curried cream of chicken soup
5 TBSP margarine
2 cups chopped onions
½ cup diced carrots
2-3 TBSP curry powder
5 cups chicken stock
Handful of cilantro sprigs
1 chicken, 2-3 lbs, quartered — or 4 chicken breasts (easier!)
½ cup brown rice (don’t use instant)
salt and ground black pepper to taste
1 cup of 5% cream
10 ounces frozen peas, defrosted

1. Melt the margarine in a pot. Add onions, carrots, curry powder and about a ½ cup of stock. Cook over low heat, covered, until vegetables are just soft.
2. Add the rest of the stock, cilantro, chicken and rice. Bring soup to a boil, reduce heat, and cover. Cook at a simmer until chicken is done, about 30 mins.
3. Remove chicken pieces from soup. Let cool. If using whole chicken, remove the meat from the bones and dice it; reserve the meat.
4. Pour the soup through a strainer and transfer the solids to the bowl of a food processor. Add 1 cup of the cooking liquid and process until smooth. Reserve the rest of the liquid.
5. Return pureed soup to the pot and add the cream. Stir in the additional cooking stock.
6. Add diced chicken and defrosted peas and simmer the soup for 15 minutes, or until peas are done. Season to taste with salt and pepper, serve immediately