From The Ladle To The Grave

I woke up two days ago with a headache. Since I never get headaches I probably should’ve known something was up, instead I chalked it up to the weather, not enough caffeine, and a possible nanobot infestation. I woke yesterday to a sore throat which I thought could possibly be a result of having slept with my mouth open. Today there’s no denying it. A horrible ick is trying to latch on somewhere between my sinuses and tonsils, making my life slightly less pleasant and making my head feel like it’s floating ten feet above my body at about twice it’s usual size.
I’m fortunate to have a job that I can leave for my bed on days like this. My office-mates are glad to minimize the risk of an outbreak, and I’m glad to have the loving and extra supportive “get outta here, I don’t want to get sick” nudge. Besides, I can type from home. Clearly.
I’m also fortunate to be part of a gang. This gang has armed me with the weaponry necessary to produce things like this even though my head feels like it might actually explode:

Ingredients: 3 small onions, 2 stalks celery, 3 cloves garlic, 2 potatoes, 2 large carrots, 1 bunch kale, 6 oz sausage, 16oz great northern beans, stock (I used some vegetable and some chicken as it was what I had on hand), thyme, oregano, turmeric, dill, salt, pepper, parsley. Assemble in usual soup making fashion.
Below is a picture that I came across today of my good friend Steve.
Steve is a fellow Soup Gang founding member. Nothing says tough like little cheddar goldfish.