My Invisible Fiend

Just the other day I was leafing through recipes, desserts mostly, marvelling at all the spare time I had when my invisible fiend started rhyming off, in alphabetical order, all the things I should be doing, so I skipped the baking and went straight to the recently purchased cookies

I can tell right away when I wake up and there’s snow. There’s something in the silence isn’t there?

Herman’s Hermits said it best with There’s a Kind of Hush but they’re talking about lovers in love and I’m just talking about that feeling you get when you know there’s snow, especially the first snow, when it’s lovely to go stand in the semi-dark in front of the window and feel happy and be grateful. Also I guess maybe be a lover in love with the world.

First snow every year I get out the Anne Sexton quote I photocopied long ago and it’s all torn up now and nicely aged, like me, and then I pin it to the wall, also like me, whatever that means. Goes like this:

I am younger each year at the first snow. When I see it, suddenly, in the air, all little and white and moving, then I am in love again and very young and I believe everything.

Dreamy, right?

Daisy and I went for a walk this morning and it was beautiful and quiet and nicely lonely but there’s a slippery layer of mud right under the snow so unless you got four feet on the ground you can’t really relax and take it all in, you know, and I wasn’t planning on running, certainly wasn’t dressed for it, but run I did because it’s easier to not wipe out while running although my particular gait was more of a maxi-coated trot and good thing I didn’t fall because I’m not sure about reverticalling in a long skinny coat, you know?

Running is a risk, of course, and if you do go down, it’s gonna be more showy

And speaking of risks, and segues, it’s a perfect soup day. Not that soup is inherently risky, but when legumes are involved, a certain amount of caution/preperation is advised/required. Maybe not so much now that everybody’s working from home but still, this soup’s the bomb, and you really should be aware/concerned.

But don’t worry. I will address the matter forthwith or heretofore, whichever makes me sound more compound

Lentil soup is my fave, today anyway, because I’m fresh out of everything else, and also because those babies cook in like 20 minutes so all you gotta do is melt your chosen vegetables in butter, add curry powder, some peppery heat, whatever stock you have, and when things get nice and cozy, throw in your lentils, red and yellow if you like pretty soup, and Bob’s your uncle.

And speaking of Uncle Bob, I always like to give a fart review when I share soup recipes, even if they’re loose like that one – the recipe I mean – because, you know, why not?

The Lentil Soup Fart (4.5/5)
This impressively structured fart shows a perfect sensory balance. The aromas pop in notes of black moss, aged walnuts, and crushed rock. The tone surges across the ears, exemplifying deftness, richness, and detail. Well-rounded and warm, the finish goes on as long – longer even – than one dare hope. Throughout it all, The Lentil Soup Fart retains a refreshing sense of balance and a mindful, majestic voice. This imposing fart is a yardstick against which future soups and stews will be measured.

Bwap! Gak!

Not giving up my day job or anything but am cartooning instead of doing my day job, mostly anyway, unless you work with me in which case just kidding, man.