As winter squeezes out the last drops of our souls, don't be too hasty putting that CrockPot away. Yeah, thanks assholes who wore sandals and shorts on the one day it was 60 degrees - the hellish snowstorm this week was probably your fault.
I've become the cranky old lady I was destined to be. I collect kitty cat knick-knacks, wear socks to bed and if the mood strikes me, I might yell at a bank teller. Oh, and I eat lots of soups. It's like a hot salad. There's really nothing better on a chilly spring day than coming home to a warm bowl of mush. Soups are also good for feeding big groups of people with limited supplies. I've been known to throw together a soup with little more than chicken bouillon and expired celery. Don't believe me? Ask the dishes.
