Soup

04 November 2017

Tonight we visited the local cricket club’s annual bonfire and firework display for the funfair rides, hook-a-duck attractions and food stalls. Always a grand occasion.

I spent time during the firework display casually pointing out to the girls the importance of standing back from fireworks, all the rest, and literally pointing out the respect the technicians had for the explodey-things. We might get some fireworks tomorrow, but no bangs.

Afterwards we returned home and settled down to comfort Ruby dog after all the bangs in her neighbourhood, and I settled down to some Hallow’een-pumpkin soup, the best soup I’d made in my life. Really, we’d tried it earlier and it was, mmmm…

I put the heat under the soup, sorted the girls clothes out, put the recycling in bins, then went upstairs to change and pee, leaving the girls to make warm drinks.

A little while later… I sniffed, “Delicious.”

A first: I’d burnt the soup.