. . . but Lynda emerged as a true hero who knows the meaning of a wedding vow.
You can probably recite the part of the vow I’m thinking of: “for better or for worse . . . ’til death do us part.” We pledged those words to each other 14 years ago (to her Dad, no less!). And, thankfully we’ve had few instances where we’ve truly tested the meaning. Maybe tonight, as part of this arbitrarily imposed challenge, we stretched the boundary a bit.
Let me explain.
The day has gone fine, for the most part. Breakfast and lunch were satisfying enough. During lunch we videoed some discussion of allowing a roll with soup–to most approval (though definitely NOT to Dean’s liking). Also, the Souperintendents clarified that noshing on ingredients while preparing homemade soup is not okay. But after lunch, Mike emailed the panel to get a ruling on the allowability of milkshakes.
Now, I immediately had a gut reaction of No! (Which I continue to believe.) Milkshake, while they are beverages–which, according to an earlier leniency for freedom of drink choices–might seem permissible to some, I feel are far more of a dessert luxury rather than a drink. Surprisingly, everyone was okay with allowing milkshakes under the definition of “drink.”
I didn’t like that but didn’t make much of a fuss. But I realized we were arguing over stupid things in a pointless, made-up challenge with no larger goal. Thereby disillusioned, I went home to find Lynda making a delicious meal of sausage, onions, potatoes, and corn. She had not remembered that I was eating soup and was immediately worried about excessive leftovers. I, in turn, was upset enough about the milkshake decision and overwhelmed with ennui, to just give up (on day 1!!) and eat my regular dinner.
But here is where Lynda’s love for me (in the face of idiocy) shone through and her heroism asserted itself. Seeing how bothered I was by the idea of throwing in the towel at the starting line, she put all of the ingredients of everyone’s meal into a bullion broth . . . and I can claim to make it to another dawn.
And best of all, it tasted really good! And there were leftovers that I quickly converted into another serving of soup for another day. So, maybe things aren’t as dire as I think?
But it is only the first day, I realize. And I’m am going to have to find a way to make it meaningful to me and–I hope–make it meaningful to others. Mike and I were briefly discussing it this morning, and maybe we can turn our soup-eating into a charity effort to get cans of soup donated to local soup kitchens? I welcome any and all suggestions on how to make our little game be a force for good. Because, otherwise, it’s just goofy people doing goofy stuff.
Still, I thank you for paying attention the last few days and I hope we can devise something here that you can find some entertainment in. It’s a work in progress.
Soup for a Year 