Zuppa Toscana Soup for My Soul

I haven't had internet all. day. long.

See it comes and goes from the last cushion on the left-hand side of the couch at the condo in which we stay when we frequent our beloved St. George.

(Btw, I lub St. George. Even when it's in a state of emergency from impending floods, it's still one of my favorite places on earth.)

So today while I didn't have internet I made orange freezies and Million Dollar Fudge. Mmmmm Mmmmm Mmmmm. I may not be rich and famous, but my fudge sure as helk is.

I also made Zuppa Toscana soup. I used the exact recipe the waiter at The Olive Garden gave me after I hypnotized him at gunpoint. And guess what! It tasted EXACTLY like it's s'pose to. Fer reals. MMMMMMMmmmm MMMMMmmmmmm gooooooood. The secret is in the Kirkland brand crumbled bacon. 100% real bacon. precooked. And precrumbled. The other secret is in the chicken broth. Don't use canned chicken broth, peeps! ICK! Bouillon is better. But there is something even better than bouillon. It's called, Better than Bouillon chicken base. And, ftr, if your FIL has a fissured tongue and tells you your Zuppa Toscana has a kick to it and he likes your other soup better, just go easy on the red pepper flakes.

Maybe I should start a new blog called The Good Food Blog. I could be the Good Food Blogger by going around to all your favorite restaurants hypnotizing the waiters into spilling their ancient Chinese secrets. Hmmmmm . . .

Today while I didn't have the internet I also read a little of The New York Regional Mormons Single Halloween Dance and watched a little Coal Miners Daughter.

Oh, and I attended my son's basketball game. That's why we're here in our beloved St. George. For a basketball tourney. He arrived on the team bus last night after nine hours of traveling through the biggest storm of the century. NINE hours! And he was crashed out sick as a dog the whole ride. If I didn't have such a stone cold heart I would have been worried out of my mind. And I would have met him at the bus to bring him back to the condo so I could tuck him in with cold cloths and orange slices and extra strength Tylenol, and I would have climbed up onto his sick bed to rub his aching back and run my finger through his poor sick hair, and I would have watched Pokemon with him as if he was my little boy again. I would have nursed him back to his too-cool-for-school teenage boy self again. If I didn't have such a stone cold heart.

Can I just say a word or two about high school basketball? They take it seriously round these parts. My boy was 10 minutes late for film yesterday and the coach made him run ladders until he up-chucked his guts. When I told the coach it wasn't his fault for being late, it was my fault, the coach made me run ladders until I up-chucked my guts.

My hub says ladders are good for the soul and what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

I disagree. What doesn't make you throw up might might you stronger, but in my estimation what makes you throw up seems to make you weaker.

But anyways, that's what I did today without the internet. When I did finally get connected I was thankful for all of your words of comfort and support in my comment box and on my Facebook. They were like Zuppa Toscana soup for my soul.

MAHALO!