A Warm and Fuzzy Moment

We all have that longing for childhood memories to come bounding back into our lives with full abrupt force to shake us to our core and remind us we are still breathing.  It helps to come home to a wonderful moment of clarity when warming up a homemade treat from a parent or grandparent.  My moment was last night.  I was able to hold a warm bowl of soup close to me and feel the warm steam float up to kiss my skin.  It’s not just any soup that I was having, it’s Maw-Maw Soup…you know what kind I am talking about.  That special bowl of soup that came out of the special large soup pot that was stirred with the special long-handled wooden spoon.  The soup that awakens your soul when you walk into the preparers house to collect your portions to take back to your own home for leftovers.  The soup that Maw-Maw spent all day preparing…or should we say all year gathering for.  The soup that EVERYTHING goes into (within reason of course).  A bit of leftover corn here from a meal, a bit of leftover roast there from a meal a few months ago, leftover peas from a while back, and all preserved lovingly by the large freezer in preparation for this delight. 

No, I don’t know her recipe yet.  My Mom and I were supposed to join her for this preparation, but unfortunately life happens, and Maw-Maw was craving it too bad for us to make her wait any longer than she already had.  But, no complaints, I do have 3 quarts in the freezer now.  These 3 quarts will get me through some rough winter days coming up.  Work will pick up, the bone-chilling cold will set in, and I will get to come home and put a pot on the stove, throw the Maw-Maw Soup in it, and wait for my childhood memory to shake me back to life……