Soup's On! by Barbara Quinn

The last of the season’s peaches and tomatoes are almost gone at the farm stand replaced by fall’s produce. Last time I visited there were more varieties of apples, pears, and squash than I could count. The pumpkins were happily piled up on hay bales. And potatoes and sweet potatoes filled the bins. I’m partial to honey crisp apples, and Bartlett pears. It’s time to turn on the oven again and fill the house with the scent of apple and pear crisp, and simply baked apples. I’ve been buying pretty striped squash and stuffing them with figs and a little cinnamon and honey. Baked sweet potatoes, and baked sweet potato fries have also been on the table.

And then there are the soups of fall. Butternut squash soup, red lentil soup, ghoulash soup, all have made an appearance on my table these past couple of weeks. There’s something comforting about a steaming bowl of soup, something right about a pot of ingredients simmering on the stove filling the house with warmth and life. None of the soups I make are difficult but they are tasty.

I lose myself in the chopping of carrots, the dicing of onions, the cubing of beef. I love the way the ingredients come together to make something better. Think about it. Soup is the perfect example of teamwork, each ingredient offering its essence, combining with the others, and becoming something new, nourishing, and bursting with flavor. Is there anything better than a bowl of chicken soup when you're feeling yurky?

All is right in my world when there’s a pot of soup simmering and ready to spoon up for lunch or dinner. A world without soup? Oh no..that's a nightmare. It reminds me of the Seinfeld epidsode where the "Soup Nazi" refuses to serve Elaine soup stating, "No soup for you!" Whatever kind you like, take it from me, soup cures what ails you. The world needs more soup.

My Very Accurate Mirrors by Nannette Croce

Remember that Seinfeld episode where Elaine complains about “thin mirrors” in fitting rooms? It makes me appreciate the very dependable full-length mirror in my bedroom. It always shows the true me. It’s one of those antique reproductions that tilts on a stand. Sometimes from cleaning or bumping it tilts the wrong way, making me appear uncharacteristically short and dumpy, but with a slight adjustment I'm back to the tall, slim gal I am in reality.

Lucky I have that mirror, because it’s the only accurate one in the house. The others are so distorted they belong in a fun house. It's like I gain five pounds just by changing rooms.

Now my bedroom mirror isn’t perfect mind you. While great for checking out an outfit, it’s lousy for makeup. I suppose it’s the light or something about the tilt distorting close-ups because it shows lines and wrinkles I don’t have.

My perfect makeup mirror hangs above my dresser. That’s a true antique I inherited from my grandmother, so old in fact, that the surface looks a little grainy, but amazingly I see my face quite clearly with none of the lines my other mirror shows, though they can’t be more than a few feet apart.

I feel sorry for all those poor women stuck with bad mirrors, and I am so grateful for my two very accurate ones.