Recipe Box - Chicken Curry Soup

If my memory is correct, we never ate Indian food growing up; yet somehow along the way, I became a big fan of it...well, some of it.  I'm certainly no expert on Indian food, so I'd better not be too hasty to announce my love of things I've never tried.  But I do know that I love, love, love curry.  If you've been around my blogs long enough, you might have noticed.  (The recipes I've posted for Chicken Curry, Curried Lentils, and Chicken Korma might have clued you in.)  :)

Some months ago, I came across another curry recipe that probably isn't authentically Indian in the least, but still satisfies my tastebuds immensely.  :)  Even better, it's super easy to make and can be whipped up with things that I routinely keep on hand.  It's one of those meals that, when I know I'm making it for supper, helps me be relaxed all day because it doesn't take much work to prepare it but the results are delicious.  :)

Chicken Curry Soup

What You Need:

1/4 c. butter

1 c. minced onion

1 1/2 c. diced celery

2 cans condensed chicken and rice soup

1 can condensed tomato soup

1 c. milk

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. curry powder

What You Do:

Melt butter in kettle.  Add onion and celery and saute for 5 minutes.  Stir in soups, milk, and seasonings.  Simmer, covered for 5 minutes.

I originally got this recipe from Cooks.com, and the only major change I've made to it is to add some cubed cooked chicken if I have it on hand.  That makes it extra hearty; but even without it, I still think it's great.  Oh, and sometimes when I'm feeling extravagant, I top it with a dollop of plain yogurt or sour cream.  We all love our indulgences, don't we?  ;-)

Shav: Before & After (& During, Too!)

Maybe it's because I'm married to a barber.

Or maybe it's because I'm a little lazy and don't want to mess with wetting/combing/styling my boys' hair every day.

But for whatever reason, I'm crazy about closely-cropped haircuts for my sons.  I know long(ish) hairstyles are common for boys these days; but in our household, until our boys are old enough to take an interest in the matter and express a strong preference otherwise, we'll keep 'em in short hair.  That's why I start to get a tiny bit antsy when our boys start looking shaggy.

Shav was the chief offender recently; and although I think he looks absolutely adorable whether his hair is long, short, or nonexistent, I was eager for him to get a trim.  The mop look just wasn't cutting it anymore.  The hair over the ears, the puff that stuck out in the back, the general dishevelment--well, it was time for a change.  Here's a look at how he used to be...

BEFORE:

See what I mean?  Pretty bad, right?  ;-)

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Finally, on December 31, it worked out for us to go to the barbershop before Jeff headed out for the day; and finally, finally!, Shav got his haircut.  The boys LOVE to go to the barbershop, so it wasn't a fearful occasion at all for Shav.  He's a blessed boy to have a daddy who can do this...

DURING:

Ah, much better!

********

A little later that day, I took the following pictures; and more than likely, I smiled each time I looked at Shav because I was so pleased at his neat, trim appearance.  He was a little too busy to do much smiling back, because after all, he had a lollipop to focus on.  Priorities, priorities.  :)

AFTER:

Yes, this is much, MUCH better!!  :)

Wordless Wednesday {Took Down the Christmas Tree, Put Up This}

With Noses Pressed to Cold Glass...

...my boys watched the snow fall this morning.

 This snow wasn't forecasted...

 ...and Dad, our resident weather expert, said it didn't even show up on radar!

 But somehow, a wonderful cloud bearing snow passed over our house...

 ...and gracefully dropped its burden upon us.

 What a fantastic surprise!

Maybe the wishes of these boys made the snow come.  :)

Or maybe it was the wishes of their mother.  ;-)

 Whatever it was, we're thankful for this surprise gift from the Real Weatherman...

...and the way these flakes of white beautify everything they land on, even our discarded Christmas tree which was plopped unceremoniously in the middle of our patio yesterday as we put away our Christmas things.

 These boys--and I--loved watching the snow this morning, but we didn't just watch it.

We bundled up, went out in it, and experienced it:  feeling it on our cheeks, sweeping it from our sidewalk, and, of course, tasting it.

And then we came in and drank hot chocolate.  :)

How I Know My Dad Loves Me

Remember when I posted my sad tale about the end of the chocolate raisins in my snack closet?  Not 12 hours after that, my dad showed up at my doorstep holding these:

He had gone to Red Front, a local grocery store here, to pick up our Christmas country ham; and while he was there, he looked for--and found--chocolate raisins.  "If they hadn't had them," he told me as he handed the bags to me, "I would have driven all the way across town to Costco to get some for you!"  This was two days before Christmas, and Costco would have been a ZOO.  But that's how much he loves me.

Or maybe he was just worried that his youngest granddaughter wasn't getting enough iron.  Well, Dad, problem solved.  Thanks to you, I've been doing a very good job of making sure she gets enough.  It's really all about the baby, you know.  ;-)

* I prepared most of this post last night, not knowing that today, Dad would be going to Costco and would emerge from it with one of those huge containers of chocolate raisins.  I didn't know that in the early afternoon, I would see him walking up the hill to our house, carrying a bag of tortilla chips for Jeff in one hand and the chocolate raisins for me in the other.  I didn't know it, but that's what happened, and I got another chance to feel my dad's love...and another chance to say "thank you."  :)

We're Never Quite Sure...

...what we'll find in our chicken coop.  Not only does the number of eggs vary each day, but also the color (from fairly dark brown to almost white) and the size (from jumbo eggs that don't fit in a standard egg carton to eggs that are too small to even meet the Medium grade at the grocery store).  But even though we've learned to expect the unexpected, even we were surprised at what we found a little while back.

Here is a typical egg from one of our chickens:

But this is what David found one day when it was his turn to collect the eggs:

It was more round than oval, a lovely dark brown color with some speckles, and was much smaller than anything we've found before.  See how it compares?

And another comparison shot:

I don't know what was going on with the chicken that laid it, but an egg is an egg, and we used it anyway.  The shell was very hard to crack, and the yolk was tiny; but the breakfast smoothie I put it in didn't mind...and neither did we.   :)

How to Begin

There is a clock on my nightstand.  It's not a traditional alarm clock, but that's why I like it.  This one gives one lovely chime at the time for which the alarm is set, and then it waits.  If not turned off, it gives another chime a few minutes later, then again waits.  The increments of time between chimes decrease until, finally, if the owner of the alarm clock doesn't respond, the chiming is constant.  I know that because I've experienced it a *few* times.  ;-)  This morning only took one chime to get me out of bed.  Can I do the same again tomorrow morning?

The other reason I like this clock is because of a change I made to it.  Along one of the sides, I taped a poem by Gunilla Norris, hoping that as I sleepily fumble for the "off" switch on the back of the clock, my fingers will brush this paper and I'll be reminded of the words on it.

What words?  These words...

Awakening

First thought--as in "first light"--

let me be aware that I waken in You.

Before I even think that I am in my bed

let me think that I am in You.

Eyes crusted over, mouth dry,

my creature self feels so inert and dumb.

Let me be aware that these words

searching toward You into consciousness

are also coming from You.

You are waking me out of this sleepiness

into awareness that my life, my thoughts,

my body, my tasks, my loves, passions,

and sorrows are gifts from You,

to be discovered and received this day.

Each hour wake me further to find You.

Let me relish in You, exult in You,

play in You, be faithful in You.

Let me be wholly present

to living the gift of time.

Help me to feel that tremendous, unrelenting joy

which is Your constancy

and which will not let any of us go.

Wake me to You.

If I could retrain my mind so that my first consciousness of God comes when I first wake, rather than at some later point in the morning, maybe when taking a shower or when moving clothes from the washer to dryer or opening the book of James to review memory verses with the boys...if I could make even this small change this year, what a victory it would be!  This is my place to begin.