Hot soup for the afflicted with cold

I've been kinda sickish for a few days. A bit off-colour. And then this evening, the most surprising thing happened. Bepe came home from work with a pile of groceries from Moore Street and started making soup. Actual soup! From ingredients, not a can!

I've never, ever made soup. I had thought I was too sick too eat but when I smelled the minestrone smells wafting from the kitchen, I started to regret I hadn't asked him to pick up some take-out. And then he appeared with soup. On a tray. (Did we have a tray?) For me.

I was so surprised and touched. Then he said: "You probably wouldn't have got sick if you didn't eat all that unhealthy American rubbish," which sort of spoiled it, but not quite. And the soup was seriously good.

The sweetest thing of all was that he made it for me. There wasn't even any left for him.

I've spent the evening on my own though. Bepe and the girlfriend went to the Ilac Centre to practice their English. (Note to self: Join Ilac Centre library-I've been in there. Free Internet. Fabulous Book Collection. Periodicals. Music. I've got the TCD library for serious books, but this is a really cool inner-city library. Loving it.)

Apparently, the Ilac Centre library offers free language exchange sessions. I might even start going along myself. I could do with widening my social circle and brushing up my French. Like all "Canadians" (I am not a real Canadian, of course, being a Newfoundlander), I learned French at school, but it never really got that far.

Now that I've had something to eat--the first meal but left-over Chinese in two days, I actually feel a heck of a lot better, and determined to get some research done tomorrow without getting sidetracked so I'm off to bed for some beauty sleep. Gotta get me a recipe for that minestrone, though. Magical.


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