And it's Wednesday

And there was music.

We are playing a duet by Jacques Ibert, Histoires. En francais, Histoires means stories.  This piece is a series of five of the most charming musical stories I've ever encountered:  La Meneuse de tortues d'or (Girl leading the golden tortoises), (slowest piece ever written but how beautiful), Le petit ane blanc (a   donkey with quite a personality),A Giddy Girl,( a sly and sexy ragtime jazz blues dance), La cage de cristal, a quite touching sad depiction of fish in a bowl, or birds in a cage as time ticks by, and last the piece de resistance, La cortege de Balkis.  Balkis is the Queen of Sheba, and here she is going to meet King Solomon.  There's no question of her value as a human being as she solemnly processes along, swaying on her elephant or camel as as she's transported to an encounter of world-shaking significance.  Wow.  Good, interesting music.

For lunch I gave Patricia an almost vegan soup.  That's like "almost human." Are you or aren't you? This soup was vegan as it started, with minced onion, red pepper, mushroom, corn kernels, and tiny cubes of crisp bacon.  Bacon doesn't count as a meat. A can of chicken broth was added. Boomp. No longer vegan, but the flavor needed deepening.  I also baked a potato while breakfast was making, and cubed the white meat of that into the soup. After Patricia and I had played, I sprinkled flour and curry powder over the resting soup (dry by now) and added skim milk. Double boomp.  Cooked it up and in the meanwhixt toasted tortillas with a grating of cheese and a sliced tomato with tarragon sprinkled over, in the oven. When all was ready, we ate.  The soup really was good. Would it have been as good without the chicken broth? Probably.  Would the tortillas have been as good without the cheese? Yes, in their way.  But I did it that way, and it was tasty. A tasty lunch.

Then a man came to talk to Theodore, to assess the errors made by Home Depot in planning and installing our new bathroom floors, and Patricia left, and I sank down after all for a well-earned slumber. YAZZYBEL (but I didn't sleep.)