Comfort Food

It is a rainy day here in Louisiana, not at all cold, but dank and miserable. The storms are a leading edge of a cold front that will drop our temperatures so that the high tomorrow will only be in the seventies, I know, not much of a cold front.

But the two days of dark, damp weather have me craving warm, comforting food, so that is what I made. Chicken corn chowder, sort of. All of my soups, except for Daddy's minestrone, are created by what I am wanting at the moment. No recipes, not too much measurement. Just putting things together that I think will make me happy. And it typically works out just fine.

My soup is kind of like a metaphor for my life so far. I listen to my heart, throw in all the good I can, and hope for the best.

The post stopped here yesterday, and today is the promised sunshiny day. But I'll finish the thought anyway.

Most of the time, that is enough to keep my innate optimism intact. Sometimes, though, the headwinds of life throw me off course.

I'm struggling to stay on course right now. I'm trying to do all the good that I can. I am reminding myself that I am strong and I can do hard things. I am reminding myself that I have survived so far, no matter what life threw at me.

I need to get back to writing my books, to diving into a world I created where people treat each other with dignity and compassion. I need the comfort food for the soul my writing brings to me.