Severe Storm Warning Soup

"To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter ... to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring—these are some of the rewards of the simple life."

~John Burroughs

Figures. I just spent about 40 minutes watering and tending to the posies. I had no sooner returned indoors than the skies turned a dreary shade of gray and the television beeped of a weather warning. Lovely. Just lovely.

Don't get me wrong, I do love the rain and the thunder and the sudden flashes of lightening. I don't, however, love wasting 40 minutes. Oh well, I suppose my little flowers will enjoy a rather large gulp today.

As I rushed outside to lower the umbrella on the patio a few large rumbles of thunder proudly announced the approaching storm. CT ran upstairs to seek comfort and shelter under the bed, and I found myself getting excited for an evening of coziness.

Tonight, Hubbo is participating in an intense roll-ball tournament; therefore I'm all alone in this hacienda. I'll be fine though. Actually, I'm a sucker for nights like this.

And, since it's going to be a dark eve, full of stormy sounds and rain tapping on windows, I did what any 80 year old woman would do-- I made a huge kettle of potato soup.

I'm going to be perfectly honest-- the rest of my night will consist of fuzzy afghans, cups of tea, and time with my knitting needles.

Oh gosh was that soup ever good. I think I'll have another bowl in an hour or so. Call me cozy and content. Bring it on, Thunderstorm.