Gindi

Soup, Soup, and More Soup

January 19, 2021 by Gindi Leave a Comment

Oh how I love soup.

My kids wish I didn’t love soup so much. Because I could serve it for supper for days on end.

I have some favorite soups in my quiver already. I highly recommend almost all of Pioneer Woman’s soups, but most particularly I love her Veggie Chili (to which I add more veggies, you’ll see this as a theme), Hamburger Soup (which I sub out ground turkey, another theme), and also Half Baked Harvest soups (search for flavors or ingredients you love, and she’ll have a soup recipe, but avoid the tortellini ones).

I’ve also made a bunch of different butternut squash soups but I’d have to give you a bunch of recipes, as well as slow cooker tortilla soup and white bean chicken chili. I’m always open to try something new.

Thanks to social media, when I put out a call for soup recipes, I received A LOT. I have tried six. I’ll provide those for you below, along with the ones still on my radar to make this month.

Sadly, none of them blew me away. I don’t have one five star recipe to share. As a result, I need more! If you’ve got an award winning soup for me, bring it on!!!

The order of soup recipes below is the order in which I tried making it over the course of a two day weekend. I did freeze some in these cool souper cubes that my friend recommended and my stepmom promptly shipped me (mine are one cup). So we still have some chicken chili and carrot ginger soup for future chilly evenings.

With regard to some of my substitutions, I haven’t had beef or pork in over 25 years. So I always sub out beef with chicken or turkey. I will sometimes include a little bacon for flavor but that’s about it. No pork sausage or ground beef unless I’m cooking something for my family that I don’t intend to eat myself. I also always add more spice, including garlic, and veggies than the recipe calls for because it just makes it better!

Soup #1 – Cheeseburger Soup from the Recipe Critic, Three Stars

A couple friends recommended this as a big hit soup with the kids. I was hesitant because I tend not to like creamy based soup, unless it’s potato. Also, I love to be able to throw a bunch of veggies in mine and this wasn’t high on veggies. But I decided I’d give it a whirl. Pluses were the kids did love it, and ate seconds (rare for soup), and I love the idea of shredded carrots in soup. I hadn’t done that before. Otherwise, it was too heavy for me.

Soup #2 – Ina Garten’s Italian Wedding Soup, Three Stars

Ina! I’m so disappointed. This came highly recommended and I love Ina. Here were the problems. The soup didn’t have nearly enough flavor even though I added more spices than it called for. I did not care for the meatballs. The pasta soaked up all the broth.

I would make this again but I would do this differently. First, I would make Half Baked Harvest zucchini parmesan chicken meatballs, which if you follow me on the socials you know I’m totally obsessed with this recipe of hers. I would only pour the soup over the pasta instead of including the pasta in the soup itself to keep more juice. I would add even more spices to give it some depth of flavor. Maybe those better meatballs would fix that problem.

Soup #3 – Slow Cooker White Chicken Chili from The Real Food DRDs, Three and a Half Stars

This recipe was fine. I liked it fine (you can tell just fine because I basically forgot to take pictures until I was freezing it!). It’s just I’ve had a lot of chicken chili and I need more kick than this had. The coconut milk, which I hadn’t used before, didn’t bother us at all. It’s just that it was just okay. You would think with all of those spices it would have been great – I think it just needed more of all the spices and jalapeños. I like a little spice, especially in chili!

Soup #4 – Carrot Ginger Soup from Saveur, Four Stars

Okay, I loved the flavor in this soup. I love carrot, squash, sweet potato soups. But here’s the problem. It’s just not very filling. This makes an insane amount and it really needs to be served as a starter for a meal. It doesn’t make a meal. It was also a little thinner than I had hoped it would be. I followed the recipe very nearly exactly, which is rare for me. It is quite spicy because I did find Thai peppers and they have a heck of a kick. I do not understand the smoked sausage, it didn’t really add anything…

If you don’t like carrots or spice, this one isn’t for you. If you do, then you really need to serve it with a substantive salad or sandwich to make a meal. (And I love a soup that serves as the main course.)

Soup #5 – Sweet Potato Chicken Noodle from Damn Delicious, Four Stars plus a smidge

This was my favorite of all the soups I tried. The flavors were rich. We’ve been on a bit of a sweet potato kick (I just made another batch of Half Baked Harvest’s chipotle chicken sweet potatoes last night, YUM!). I added a little less spinach, because my kids. Other than that, the only edits I made were more of all the fresh spices, plus I subbed out chicken breasts, used two medium sweet potatoes, and added a bit more lemon juice and stock. This was super yummy and all five of us loved it and had seconds. The only reason I didn’t give it five stars is because it’s just not a Pioneer Woman veggie chili yet…

Soup #6 – Taco Soup from Pinterest, Four Stars

This soup is good. The only reason I’m not going nuts over it is because it is basically my Pioneer Woman veggie chili without the veggies. And I do love veggies in a pot. The revisions I made to the soup were using ground turkey instead of beef, using two cans of Rotel and one can of tomatoes instead of vice versa, and sautéing the turkey with onions and peppers. I need some veggies!

Also, I don’t use powdered spice mixes anymore because of the sodium. Since taco spices are just cumin, chili powder, paprika, and oregano with some salt, I added that in – I probably use cumin and chili powder more than any other spice. I do have some ranch seasoning in a shaker that I used a bit off because I like that buttermilk kick the powder gives. And I needed way more broth, mine was chicken, so it was probably close to three cups instead. I topped it with fresh cheddar and sour cream and everyone loved it. But next time, use veggies!

What’s On The Menu?

Here are the soups that are in the hopper for the month. I actually started my social media post because I was craving a GREAT potato soup. This is my ultimate comfort soup. I received this recommendation for a potato soup from The Whole Cook and I want to try it out. Also recommended was Healthy Zuppa Toscano, which I’m willing to try by subbing out the pork sausage for turkey, but I’m somewhat skeptical it is “bursting with flavor” unless I add a lot of my own spices which I don’t see appearing in their recipe.

Another option for potato is Damn Delicious’ chicken and potato chowder which looks promising but I think I’d need to add corn too. And then there was a recipe for pumpkin black bean soup which sounds so crazy but looks really good. There wasn’t a website link but the recipe calls for canned pumpkin, black beans, diced tomatoes, garlic, balsamic, red onion, garlic, and chicken broth. I know it sounds a little nutty but it’s really appealing to me. I’ll post on the socials if it works out.

Okay, that’s it from my little corner. Sound off on what soup you have to have and what I should add to this month’s list! And let me know if you make one of these and find a way to make it a part of the permanent soup rotation!

Positive

January 13, 2021 by Gindi 1 Comment

I was so angry.

Sad, too, but angry mostly.

This weekend, COVID positive hit our family.

While I was shocked, once I absorbed the news, I was pissed.

Excuse me, but I was.

Not any sort of holy angry but straight up “it’s not fair,” pity party anger.

We have been SO careful since my diagnosis.

We were always somewhat careful, no big travel, no parties, etc., but I mean lock down, hard core serious since December. We saw none of Bray’s siblings or the kids cousins. We went nowhere except for the farm where his parents were, who also had been absolutely nowhere. Bray had to still work but his job is primarily outdoors.

I flippin’ kept the kids home from school last week as a PRECAUTION so we would not catch COVID. I just needed to stay clear until February 4^th. (I’d love to never have it, but I realize with school and groceries, etc., there’s always the possibility.)

I railed on the phone to my two closest friends. I went to get tested, which came back negative, but that doctor recommended I move out to preserve my surgery date. The kids pediatrician recommended I move out to preserve my surgery date. Go into isolation to get to February 4^th.

I don’t know what planet medical recommendations come from sometime. They are done in the best and kindest way, but if you are a working mom of three who are having to homeschool because of COVID, what happens when the mom leaves the house? I help them with school. I cook three meals. Yes, they are 11 now, but they aren’t 16.

It just made me angrier.

And the brutal reality about COVID, which every one of you know by now, is that NO ONE CAN HELP!! I told my regular nanny not to come because I wasn’t about to expose anyone to this. My mom is high risk. One of my dear friends told me she would come over regardless. She’s a mom. I told her no way. She sent me pics of haz mat suits – she was willing 🙂 (A momentary laugh in a day of fury…)

I told my best friend I was angrier at these damn results than I was when I got the news about breast cancer. How do all these people travel around the country and see their families and not contract this stupid awful horrible thing but WE get exposed?!?!?! I was nothing more than a toddler throwing a tantrum that I didn’t get what I wanted.

But I’ll tell you this – if this whole cancer business was a test, one where I learn I can’t control everything, I wasn’t passing. Because I was doing a pretty good job controlling things. Working- check. Kids school – check. Right doctors and medical plan – check. You know what turned that mild sense of still having some control on its head? COVID.

If you don’t struggle with control, then you fully recognized long ago you’re on this life thing as a rider. You do the best you can but you have no control. But me, well I keep trying to “manage” it all.

Even regarding help. I kept telling everyone I didn’t need help, because I didn’t. But when this hit, we had some families offer to bring us dinner this week. For those of you who follow my social media, you knew I’d been on a soup kick (post coming tomorrow) so I was all set until today. So I finally accepted some generous offers to drop food. But then I felt guilty. I mean we have financial means and a Door Dash/Instacart app, who are we to accept people bringing us dinner?

It’s a vicious cycle this thinking you can manage it all by yourself.

I wrote this on Facebook on Monday, in a brief moment of leaning into my faith:

One of my dearest friends and fiercest prayer warriors was talking about Psalms yesterday.
I was sharing some of my favorites – ones with Bob Ross happy clouds in them.
She shared about a sermon her pastor taught on Psalm 88. The only one that ends without praise. A Psalm, he called it, for the clinically depressed. He preached on lament. She remembers she was tired of being sad.
I read it this morning. A Psalm 88 morning. I feel like we are on a rollercoaster. Good news which brings hope and then another blow.
David writes: I call to you, Lord, every day; I spread out my hands to you. Do you show your wonders to the dead? Do their spirits rise up and praise you? Is your love declared in the grave, your faithfulness in Destruction? Are your wonders known in the place of darkness, or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion? But I cry to you for help, Lord; in the morning my prayer comes before you. Why, Lord, do you reject me and hide your face from me? Psalm 88
There’s no catchy joy at the end. No “I praise you for your wonders Lord!” But faith. You know. The substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
Another dear friend wrote this to me last night as I was sinking: This is where I always start when the world is spiraling – Heidelberg 1 baby: What is my ONLY comfort in life and in death? That I am not my own but belong, body and soul, in life and in death, to my faithful savior Jesus Christ. He watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my father in heaven.
So, in case you are trapped in a Psalm 88 day, week, year… let’s just start with praying a simple catechism together, and remember all things work together.

I believe all of that. But I’m still sad and mad. And when we said our bedtime prayers Sunday night, the kids were shaking their fists and asking why. I told them to bring all of that to God. Trying to suppress what you really feel to “be presentable” to a God who knows anyways is no good. We’ll just keep reading through these Psalms. It reminds us that for centuries people have brought their suffering and loneliness and sinfulness and anger and sadness and frustration to God.

Sometimes, we can close those days in praise. Sometimes we can’t. I remember a happy clappy praise song we’d sing when I was a teenager, “We bring the sacrifice of praise into the house of the Lord… and we offer up to you, the sacrifices of thanksgiving.” I mean this could not BE a more cheerful sing-songy chorus. But as it ran through my head as I sat in the urgent care parking lot, I thought about how shallow a faith that is. The smiley-cheery sacrifice of praise? It should be a mournful dirge. On days like today, if you can muster up a closing prayer with praise, it is a huge sacrifice and it is done with pain and humility.

“Thank you God for all the ways you have provided. For the community of people surrounding us with help and prayer. For the house. For the stock of soups made before we’d know we need it. Thank you God for a way forward. For modern medicine. For friendships and the ability to learn still even from home…”

All true. But a sacrifice.

The 2021 New Year Post

January 2, 2021 by Gindi Leave a Comment

I feel like I’m supposed to write a new year post this weekend. Obligated. Hoorah 2021 is here and all that jazz.

I’ve done it before. Probably every year for the ten years I’ve been writing here.

I’ve had word of the year posts – with things that meant something at the time, like brave. I’ve written resolutions. Which I did not keep, for long (spending, decluttering, forming better habits). There were verses for the year (ironically Hebrews 11:1, which could have been this year’s).

There were honest writing years too. Years I was coming off of ER visits with littles and there wasn’t a decent photo of me from the whole season. Last year, I wrote because I felt a need but was still heartbroken after returning from my best friend’s son’s funeral. I even wrote during hard marriage seasons, which hit during the holidays when the kids were little.

With all that’s going on, and all that we have to look forward to in the year ahead, I don’t have anything to say.

I really tried to come up with a word. I almost landed on release. But then I decided there wasn’t a word that worked.

Then I thought about having a verse. More words, right? I’ve spent a fair amount of time with Hebrews 12:1 lately, but that was definitely not it. And since there have been so many different passages I’ve been sinking into, a lot of John and Psalms, I couldn’t single one out.

Resolutions? I’m not even trying. I mean Bray and I thought we’d do dry January again and then, as we sat sipping on our vodka tonic this weekend, we realized it was January and we’d already thrown a big miss (we are still doing a version of it, it’s just clearly not going to cover the whole month).

This is what I’ll do for 2021.

I’ll write about how happy I am that it’s a new year. Of course turning the calendar doesn’t change all that’s going on in our home and in the world around us but it FEELS FRESH. And just psychologically, that helps!

I got to introduce our new transition pastor to our church this morning which is another huge answer to prayer. Our church has been in between pastors and it was such an incredible honor to get to help lead the team to call this breath of fresh air for a church that means so much to me.

I’m done with genetic testing, which is a total miracle, because they didn’t think they’d be able to get me in. Then they had a cancelation because of course!!!

It’s an exciting year for my work project and it’s a year full of life milestones. Bray’s 50th, the kids entry to junior high and turning twelve, and our little marriage turning FIFTEEN!

Actually, as I am WRITING this post, a word came to me.

PROMISE.

It’s not my word of the year or anything, but it settled in my bones.

The promise of 2021. The promise of all that lies ahead. And the promise, the promises, God has given.

Because the Lord your God fights for you, just as He promised. Joshua 23:10

My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life. Psalm 119:5

I will bring health and healing to it, I will heal my people and will let them enjoy abundant peace and security. The days are coming when I will fulfill the good promise I made. Jeremiah 33:6, 14

For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ. And so through him the ‘Amen’ is spoken by us to the glory of God. 2 Corinthians 1:20

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful. Hebrews 10:23

So whether you’ve got a page long of resolutions or whether, like me, you didn’t even know how to pick up the pen, hold on to the promise of 2021. Hope. Faith. Love. We all know what comes after that…

Zoom Out

December 30, 2020 by Gindi 1 Comment

We’ve been at the farm this week. The top photo was a shot I took as the sun was setting. I zoomed in on the sunset to crop out all the stuff that took away from its beauty. But then, when you zoom out, you see what’s around it.

Zoom out. There’s work trucks. A trash bin and loading pallet. There’s a storage container. Because as you know, Hurricane Laura decimated the Vincent family farm. And then it got hit again by Hurricane Delta. Progress is being made, but it’s slow going. Rebuilding from the ground up.

Then, if you pan over a little to the left, you’d see this picture at sunset.

Zoom in – sunset exclusively in focus. Zoom out – sunset distracted by hurricane clean up pieces. Zoom over – a handsome son enjoying a fire he built.

I planned to write. For over a week. I meant to. But I’ve been pretty antisocial this holiday. I’m avoiding telephone calls. I haven’t seen anyone besides my crew. And everytime I go to do something, I just stop.

So when I finally made myself sit down to write today, I thought about how our perspective changes when we zoom in or out or over. (And I seriously hesitated using the word Zoom at all in a 2020 wrap up post.)

For the first few weeks after I received my diagnosis, I was very focused on seeing all the good. The blessings. The miracles.

I stopped that last week. Not permanently of course, but I allowed myself to be grumpy. And conflicted.

I wanted the kids to stay home because I wanted to spend time with them because TIME FEELS VERY PRECIOUS. Except while they were home they were fighting and I was yelling at them and I just wanted a break. A break from my kids? While I have breast cancer? It felt terrible to even think because time feels shorter and I should treasure every moment. But I couldn’t treasure a thing because I was tired and had a ton of cooking to do and the house was messy and the kids were fighting. (It got better! We had a great Wednesday! All the cooking got done!)

Perspective. How do you reconcile the warring perspectives? Zoom in, kids fighting and chaos. Zoom out, life is short and enjoy every minute. Zoom over, good progress on treatment.

I had a really positive appointment with the medical team at MD Anderson last week too. It turns out the cancer is Stage 1 not Stage 2, hallelujah, and it looks like the garden variety, hormone positive, breast cancer that makes up 70% of the cases. Another huge praise. When you have cancer, you want the early stage, run of the mill stuff.

There are still things to pray about. We are praying my genetic testing comes back all clear. Praying the surgery (which is scheduled for February 4th) will confirm no cancer in the lymphnodes like the ultrasound showed. Praying the genomic testing done on the tumor doesn’t show a high reproduction rate so I won’t need chemotherapy.

While I feel like I’m constantly zooming over to the treatment course, another phone call today to move forward with the genetic counseling, I’m trying to remember to zoom out more.

How far out? Well, at least as far out to see the glorious 2021 in the near future.

I’m not delusional. I do not think 2021 is going to be a panacea. We still have a world fighting a pandemic and inequality in the distribution of medicine to stop it and inequity in our socioeconomic and racial fault lines and infighting over silly political memes.

Yet. I find hope in 2021. I find hope in a relief from an election year. In a vaccine which will hopefully curb the spread of this vicious virus. In a 5th grade graduation ceremony and 15th wedding anniversary and hubby’s 50th birthday. I believe this time next year I will be cancer free and hopefully able to love on the next round of women who are feeling all the things I’m feeling right now.

See, you would think by zooming out, if you use those pictures above as a guide, I would see the pain and things that mar the beauty. But no! By Zooming out, you see the things that bring restoration. You see the work trucks which bring people to construct and build and clean. You see the containers that kept family heirlooms safe while the rebuilding happens.

The restoration isn’t pretty. It’s dirty and messy and ugly and takes way longer than it should. But in the end, RESTORED.

It reminds me of Nehemiah. In the beginning, the walls of Jerusalem are broken down and the gates destroyed by fire. He leads the effort of rebuilding, an effort attacked on every side. The work gets done though. When you get to Chapter 3, it lists all these different families doing the messy work of restoration (Jeshanah Gate repaired by Joiada, Fish Gate was rebuilt by the sons of Hassenaah, Fountain Gate was repaired by Shallun, Baruch son of Zabbai zealously repaired another section, and on and on).

It’s what we’re all doing. We’re all just restoring a little bit.

Zoom out. You’re rebuilding civility. And you, you’re restoring justice. You, quiet one in the corner, you’re rebuilding with art or medicine or education.

It’s messy. Maybe it’s not as pretty a picture as when we’re so zoomed in on ourselves. On that solitary sunset. But oh how it reflects the community working together toward restoration.

And that’s why there is such hope for 2021. The teachers and medical workers and first responders and lawyers and grocery clerks and students and retirees and all of us. We’re doing the hopeful messy restorative work.

Keep going. With all it’s conflict and uncertainty and stepping on each other’s toes. It’s work worth doing.

Miracles in the Middle

December 21, 2020 by Gindi 2 Comments

I needed to write before I went into my appointment at MD Anderson. Before I understand more. Before I know the treatment course.

I wanted to make sure I capture the miracles.

Two weeks ago today, my doctor called and said a biopsy found a ductal carcinoma on my right breast.

In my life, there are before and after moments.

The first one I remember is at 12. Before and after my parents divorce. When the world as I knew it tipped on its axis.

Before and after marriage, almost 15 years ago. And world shifting moments since then – before and after infertility, before and after children, before and after Bray’s job loss.

So here’s another one of those. In the year of our Lord, 2020.

In the midst of the news, and the logistics, and the processing, there have been miracles. God working in every single moment.

On Day 1, I spoke with two women who gave me insight into their own personal stories of recent breast cancer and treatment at MD Anderson. As a result, I went on line that night and filled out a form to get in to see a team there.

On Day 2, at 8 am, I received a phone call from MD Anderson. I’d been told it could take months to get in and I should consider seeing other doctors in order to get an evaluation more quickly. Yet here was this woman on the other end of the line saying she could make appointments for me on what would be Day 11 and Day 12.

That same evening, a dear friend and mentor of mine introduced me to his friend leading a team at MD Anderson. He recommended a specific surgeon in the department. I looked into the team I’d been assigned to see on Day 12 and realized the oncologist is not one that would be who I would ultimately settle on. He didn’t have the background or experience I was looking for in the oncologist that would be with me through the entire process.

Meanwhile, my closest friends and family members were praying like crazy. We had told the children and they had shared with some close friends at school, and teachers, and a few more people began to cover our family in their prayers.

On Day 3, MD Anderson called again. I explained that I did not want to lose my appointment but I knew the oncologist I was assigned wouldn’t be a fit. She said she’d check for the next available team appointment. The next opening was only ONE BUSINESS DAY LATER, today, and the surgeon on the team was the very one the MD Anderson team lead had recommended. The same one.

I said YES PLEASE! Another miracle.

On Day 4, I wrote about the diagnosis here and the gates of Heaven were barraged by the prayers of so many on my behalf. The biggest miracle of all.

On Friday, Day 12, when I went into my first MD Anderson appointment for testing, another miracle. They repeated the mammograms and ultrasound and noted possible bilateral biopsy. That was to investigate other areas of concern. They spent time US-ing my lymphnodes. When the technician came back, she reported no further areas of concern and I was free to go.

Let me be clear here. Everyone has different results. The fact that my results went one way while another’s come out differently does not reflect anything about their faith or their prayers or their community of support.

But what is important for my individual story, as I process, is for me to acknowledge the hand of God in every thing that happens. The big and the small. The significant and the minute. Because God is not just a God of the mighty miracles where seas part and the blind see. He’s a God of the small miracles. The daily walking around goodness – in open parking spots and appointment availability and test results and friendship.

People came as God with skin on these past two weeks.

They prayed. We had two Tiff’s Treats deliveries and a delicious loaf of homemade bread.

Five women from law school sent a “treatment tote” with incredibly thoughtful gifts, crowdsourced from their friends who had gone through this before. Gifts for the children and button front pajamas for me and even a cute tote I could take to every hospital visit and then throw away when I beat this thing.

Two of my best friends arrived days later with a bag laden with the softest blankets and sweaters and a diffuser with essential oils. My best friend had the exact same sweater and wore it on Friday as I wore mine. Solidarity with me on my first visit when she couldn’t be there.

There’s more. Every day, there’s more. Family and friends and God right smack dab in the middle.

The miracles started even before “Day 1.” I was supposed to get a mammogram this month. But in October, one time in the shower, I thought I felt something. I never felt it again. But it made me call my doctor and get a mammogram a month and a half earlier than usual.

I was supposed to get the biopsy results on a Friday. I’d have gone nuts that weekend. I couldn’t have DONE anything and it would have done us all in. The boys on their hunting trip and me having to sit still. Instead, my dear friend had an appointment (scheduled months ago) with my primary care doctor on Monday morning. She asked her to go find the results and then I got the call. On Monday. When I could spring into action.

Every day was another miracle. The God of the small and the big.

And no matter what they tell me today, no matter what the course of treatment, I serve that very same God. The one who shows up. The one who cares. The one who acts in all things for His good purpose.