A day when I get organized to make chicken stock is always going to be a good day. I love making stock but I can't always get my energy up to go to the store and then spend most of the day checking what's going on at the stove. But I LOVE having my own stock to use when I make risotto or soup or something - rich, full flavor and only as much sodium as I have personally added.
I made stock on Wednesday -- the day my son came home from college for his Christmas break. I pulled out the enormous blue enamel stockpot and happily rough chopped leeks and carrots and celery. The house was wreathed in the smell of vegetables and chicken all day.
I didn't make the actual soup until yesterday. Late in the afternoon, when the soup was pretty much finished and just needed to have some noodles, I went to my desk to write. I had an idea for the final scene of a short story I've been working on but wasn't sure how to wrap everything up. I sat down and started and about an hour later, I was finished! Done! Ending to story!
Now, it may be a little pat. I'm not sure. But I'm going to set it aside for a few weeks and take a closer look then.
But for now my early Christmas present to myself is the belief that any day on which I make soup with my own stock is a day on which I will accomplish something significant with my writing.
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