Orange: The Occupational Hazard of Housewifery on a Saturday

Mr. and Mrs. Squash.
I think I decapitated Mrs. Squash today.

We’ve had another surreal, wonderful Saturday around the ol’ crooked house yet again. While the poor hubs and Winston are both fighting off a nasty suntin’ suntin’, Beardslee and I have gone about trying to make them well again. Or, Beardslee has manfully rested — I’m sure he’s saving up his energy to do something truly heroic. He’ll probably display it around bedtime.

So, poor, hacky, drippy Dave had to leave the warm comfort of our bed this morning amid yet another tundra morning to help me schlep both cats to the vet’s. Boo had a follow-up visit and they kindly fit Winston in for his case o’ the cruds. Hopefully the shot and oh-so-fun-to-choke-down-his-throat medication that Winston received will stop things from flying out of both major orifices.

After a quick donut stop (yes, you heard that right — I think Dave had a craving…and who am I to deny a pathetic sick husband?), we headed home to brew a pot of organic coffee with which to enjoy a couple (and that makes it alright, doesn’t it? Yeah, I know it doesn’t).

Realizing that I have yet to get the disgusting ailment that has been making the rounds in our schools and places of work, I became grateful and thought of what to do for the #1 man in my life. The answer was obvious…homemade chicken soup.

After quick-thawing a free-range chicken I’d frozen for juuuuust such an occasion, and chopping up some almost-seen-better-days veggies, it was finally on the stove, simmering away. All of the veggies and their organic or FM origins made me feel slightly better about the donut I’d scarfed hours earlier. I used up the rest of the carrots, onion, a parsnip, and some organic celery from the fridge (and will throw in some leftover half-used bags of organic veggies from the freezer when finishing it off). While surveying what else would be going bad shortly, I noticed some butternut squash (already showing signs of ick — and not the fish disease) and a couple of sweet potatoes in need of usage.

Man, this thing’s starting to turn into a Donna Thompson article. Apologies. I’ll try to pep it up.

Wanting to utilize some of my green cookbooks, I found a simple sweet potato soup recipe (which could easily be frozen or taken for lunch throughout the week) which called for a method of cooking which involves using the stove as little as possible, “lid cooking” the potatoes after bringing them to a boil. So, I diced them up, along with the last parsnip, threw in our all-natural vegetable broth (who knew I’d love Wolfgang Puck so much?), some garlic, S&P, and a dash of ground ginger, just for the hell of it. Er, heck, depending on who’s reading this. 😉 I went slightly askew from the recipe, but I still kept the eco-friendliness intact by not peeling the taters and using the “duh, why didn’t I think of that” cooking technique.

After having diced the potatoes, I went after the butternut squash to freeze which, if you’ve ever disassembled, you know it’s a real…yeah, it kinda sucks and makes you wonder why you bought the thing in the first place. Upon taking the halved, peeled squash to the garbage can to scoop the seeds out, I realized how orange my hands had become — as well as my sock, from holding the lid of the can up (not sure why I did it that way, there IS a foot pedal) and the wall behind the can. Oye. I love the color orange and all, and particularly what it means when it’s in food (beta-bet-bet-bet-betaaaa carotene! Wow. I hang around with too many cheerleaders), but this made me want to sit down and have a beer.

So, rather than taking that route (definitely not a beer day — more like a hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps or hot cider with rum sort of a day — can I get a wuh wuh? Again. Too many high schoolers in my life.), I sat down and wrote this little ditty for y’all. I’m patiently awaiting the moment of dis-assemblage of the chicken and re-assemblage of what we like to call “mmm…sooooup.” Even more patiently waiting is Sick Dave…and, particularly, Winston, who dreams of people food. You can see it on his crazy face. His fazy.

Hope your Saturday’s just as nice, if not as orange. Looks to be a classic movie night here once again, for which I’m uber excited. Soup ‘n cinema. Sweet.