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the soup, not the sport
Feb. 23rd, 2005 11:39 pmIn my squash soup: squash, potato, honey, molasses, cinnamon, apple cider; trace amounts of salt, pepper, coriander, ginger, lemon peel. Partially pureed. Very, very tasty. (We're assuming it's a squash, anyway; thanks go to Hemingway fils for investigative work and cooking tips.)
It's either a squash or a small watermelon-colored pumpkin. I tried to hit the internet to find out what it was, but google persisted in telling me about the sport of squash instead of the plant. The squash was acquired accidentally; I think it belonged to whoever was at the cash register before me, and their bag got left behind. At any rate I found myself with an extra squash and four apples. I feel a bit guilty, but... what can you do?
Home early from work today, first sick leave of the year; I was coughing all morning and my voice changed from a breathy growl to nonexistent and back again. They finally kicked me out when I couldn't communicate across a cubicle. I fell directly into bed and didn't wake until evening, when I roused myself from a dream of destiny, responsibility, and +24V power terminals.
Since I couldn't talk, I signed on to IM. I rarely use the program, but I felt like communicating. Four hours later, I had been instant messaging more or less continuously. It's very draining; I'm not used to keeping track of all the little speech boxes, and the staggered pace of IM conversation took a while to get used to. When I went to answer the phone, it was really odd to hear my own voice twist and rasp out of my throat. I'd been typing for so long, I'd forgotten that I couldn't actually speak.
It's either a squash or a small watermelon-colored pumpkin. I tried to hit the internet to find out what it was, but google persisted in telling me about the sport of squash instead of the plant. The squash was acquired accidentally; I think it belonged to whoever was at the cash register before me, and their bag got left behind. At any rate I found myself with an extra squash and four apples. I feel a bit guilty, but... what can you do?
Home early from work today, first sick leave of the year; I was coughing all morning and my voice changed from a breathy growl to nonexistent and back again. They finally kicked me out when I couldn't communicate across a cubicle. I fell directly into bed and didn't wake until evening, when I roused myself from a dream of destiny, responsibility, and +24V power terminals.
Since I couldn't talk, I signed on to IM. I rarely use the program, but I felt like communicating. Four hours later, I had been instant messaging more or less continuously. It's very draining; I'm not used to keeping track of all the little speech boxes, and the staggered pace of IM conversation took a while to get used to. When I went to answer the phone, it was really odd to hear my own voice twist and rasp out of my throat. I'd been typing for so long, I'd forgotten that I couldn't actually speak.
