Bloody Mary Soup

Bob's off on a fishing trip, and while I haven't turned to drink yet, Pyewacket has turned to catnip. Literally. I found her last night trying to break into the catnip, which is in a sealed plastic container like a margarine container. I picked her up and removed her from the counter, and gave her her catnip mouse, which seemed to placate her, at least for awhile.

I did make "Bloody Mary Soup" last night, my own invention. Cello asked if I put vodka in it, and I didn't, although it probably wouldn't have hurt.

I wanted to make soup yesterday, but I didn't really have the stuff I needed for my regular vegetable soup (nothing fresh, basically, no potatoes or carrots or celery), and I didn't want to go to the store. So I made do:

• A large can of diced tomatoes
• A can of green beans, drained
• A can of white beans, drained
• A jar of cocktail onions
• A handful of frozen corn
• Mr. & Mrs. T Bloody Mary Mix
• Water

I was careful not to add any salt until I tasted it, and it didn't need any. The diced tomatoes (the same brand I had used for the chili) apparently added enough salt, and the Bloody Mary mix added some kick. It's kind of like gazpacho, just slightly spicy, and while I was afraid the cocktail onions would be weird, they seem okay, slightly vinegary. I like it.

I did go to the store later and buy celery and fresh mushrooms and radishes and green onions, which I used in a big salad with some of the lettuce that Bob brought home from his friend's house last week. I brought a salad to work today, too, along with a bowl of the soup and a bagel, but I ended up not eating the soup--I'll save it for tomorrow.

I ran out at lunch to the yarn store for a set of doublepoint needles. I'm almost to the decreases on the felted bag, and didn't have the right size. I could probably have faked it with some just a little smaller, which I do have, but since I've never felted anything before, I'd rather have the right tools. It's extremely ugly right now, just this HUGE floppy thing . . . I'm hoping the felting will save it. If not, at least it went quickly.

Oh, and I laid it down for just a minute last night to answer the phone, and when I came back, Dinah had neatly chewed through the yarn. Just chewed through it, and walked away, leaving it looking just like it had before, except the bag was no longer connected to the ball of yarn. Why? Who knows. She's a chewer.

She chewed through some fly line once that Bob was putting on his flyfishing rig. He was sitting in the living room and she was eyeing it, and I told him he should watch her, and he said, "Oh, she won't chew through it!" She did, of course. He was winding the line back up into the spool, and wound up a chewed-off end. I don't remember if he was able to splice it or not; all I had to do with the bag was tie a knot, but it does remind me to keep the knitting carefully put away in case it's something where it matters more.

Oh, so back to why I didn't eat all my lunch--I went to the yarn store at noon, and that basically took almost a whole hour by the time I drove there, bought the needles, and drove back. So I ate the salad and bagel at my desk, and hated to go microwave the soup, although, now that I think of it, I could probably eat it cold.