'Last Tuesday we ran out of soup. I couldn’t believe it at first. We always have soup. Carrot and tomato, lentil, parsnip and potato, banana and peach.
Just a few of my favourites.
I prefer a starchy soup. But I don’t care for legumes. Leguminous soup gives me wind.
They say, soak and boil the beans first and rinse off the starchy residue. I can’t be arsed, quite frankly. Can anyone? I just fling them in the pan. Sometimes I use a dried legume; on other occasions I might use tinned.
The other day, I read about tins being dangerous. Not tins in and of themselves, other than the lids, which as we all know are lethal if you’re not vigilant. It’s the lining, you see. It affects the contents in some way that I couldn’t really be bothered remembering.
It’s a bit confusing really. One newspaper expert says that half a can of peaches, for example, provides one of your five a day. The other half can be flung in the bin, or saved for another day. Or perhaps given to someone else, if you’re not on your own. Another newspaper expert says that you shouldn’t eat from tins at all, because the lining of the tin has a harmful effect on your corporeum.
I don’t know what to make of it all, at all.
I like soup. I like to make soup from tins. Perhaps I should cut out the middle man and drink tinned soup.
Which brings me to another problem. Does one eat soup, or does one drink it?
I suppose if one is faced with a plateful of leguminous soup, packed with chunky legumes and such like, one might eat it rather than drink it.
Are eating and drinking the same thing? Are the words interchangeable? And if so, is one of the words therefore redundant? Sort of like the tail of a tadpole, before it transforms into a frog or toad?'
This (the above) is what I saw when I accidentally peered into Geoffrey's brain last Sunday evening while searching, vainly, for a lost pyjama button down the back of the sofa - an endless ream of words that make little sense, unless you happen to be Geoffrey. And even then, you might give up and have a biscuit.