Monday and yes, I will share the daily menu with you and no, I don't think it odd that you like to know; I just imagine you sitting by a railway track with a can of beans heating over an open fire - hah! - as if anything could be further from the truth.

A cool soup type of day - we're having a heat spell as I'm sure you are aware knowing you follow our weather; unusual weather for Victoria but a nice reminder to we born-back-easterners of one type of summer. I simmered together half a hubbard squash, two small parsnips, a large jolly clove of garlic (the sound of a thumbnail pulling away a goodly-sized clove from the bulb is truly a 'moment' thing), and an onion - oh wait, did I add an onion. No, I don't think so - the momentary confusion is caused by me simultaneously making shepherd's pie for the sons and definitely adding an onion to this and then, halfway through, finding half an onion in the frig and wanting to use it and just now wondering if I chucked it in with the soup. No, I didn't.

Oh - also added what was left from a cauliflower head once I had put as much as I thought the sons would tolerate in the shepherd's pie (cruciform vegetables nudge my nutrition-conscious mother's mind - but the cruci's seem to be lodged in things like cabbage that must be disguised). The addition of the cauliflower to the soup was brilliant. A taste test wow'ed me with a lovely combination of flavours.

I put the cooked soup ingredients into the blender with salt, freshly ground pepper, and whirred them to a puree. Then the taste test. It is now cooling in frig and I will serve it, I think, chilled with a basil leaf and some chopped chives for enhancement. The colour is like the sunset you described over San Francisco Bay from Sausalito - or have I erred geographically. The colour comparison will withstand a wrong lay of the land, in any case. So enjoy the soup thusly in mind and I will duplicate it when next I see you.

And I'll make a simple pasta dish with fresh noodles (no, not mine - the one time I tried making pasta the noodles were al dente after half an hour of cooking and got buried in the garden) and shreds of fresh basil and fresh lemon juice, salt, pepper, and possibly a small kiss of olive oil.

Got a delightful bunch of cookbooks at a garage sale on the weekend and the spaghetti recipe is inspired by one of them.

The 'theme' of this week's garage sales? Hobby horses!! Three encountered across perhaps two dozen sales. Yes, we could do a study on this someday and find what spurs the collective consciousness.

Have quite a sunburn on my arms - was not intending to at all but it was just too hot for long sleeves and I guess I thought my hat was more umbrella-like than it is. I put cider vinegar on the redness and am told I smell like a salad. And that balsamic vinegar would be preferred. Who to blame for the cheekiness of sons?

Well, I don't know about your experience with that hitchhiker. Yet, yes, I agree that a woman wearing a t-shirt that reads Peace Pilgrim's Friend should be a little more reliable. I suppose you COULD backtrack and run an ad in the local newspaper and see if she responded and then you would know she was allright. Putting on a southern accent was a bit of a risk. You LOOK Canadian, for goodness sake. (I wrote goondess - say it, a few times. What a nice sounding word. How could we use it?)

Read in one fell swoop Simplifying Your Life by Elaine St James. Oh how special to come across someone else who has actually done it, is not just talking about doing it! I benefitted from the validation, the abundant attitude (too many people assume simplifying means denying oneself when it is quite the opposite), the fellow journeyman. And I acquired a few new 'tools' - the concept of 'reinterpreting' past events; it was either presented in a way that clicked or the time was right for me to reach a different level of awareness of this. She has another book out which I will also investigate.

The latest batch of soap is hardening in the sun and breezes of the kitchen window. I put cinnamon in this one so the bars are a lovely colour and soaked some dried fig leaves in the rainwater beforehand to perhaps capture the essence of fig fragrance but I don't think this was successful.

And no, I can't send a recipe to that lady from Scotland who you met in the bed and breakfast - it's too iffy, Teddy. If you share my soap doings with someone again don't offer them a recipe, suggest they get a book on how to do it. My favourite is The Art of Soap Making by Merilyn Mohr (Harrowsmith 1979) because it goes into great detail and the whys and wherefores.

And I have experimented with the procedure (of course!) and have simplified the saponifying by stirring the lye/fat/oil mixture until it's all incorporated and then sticking it in the frig and sort of going by instinct as to when to take it out and stir so that it thickens but not too much, but saves me stirring for ages and ages and ages. But I'm not going to suggest this to anyone in a recipe. How does one measure instinct, I mean. And I have enough worries that someone in MY household will mistake the soap for caramel pudding and try some and burn his mouth. ("As if!" I can hear the sons say, but common sense is sometimes not a great deterrent to a mother's fears.)

Taos, New Mexico, your next stop, eh? I know, ...unless the spirit moves. I am prepared for anything after that time I thought you were in South Africa and you phoned from Iceland. And the connection was so bad I thought you were in Ireland and might have continued to think that except that I asked you to kiss the blarney stone for me and we got it sorted out.

How do they pronounce Taos? With a t? Or a d?

....back to the soup....back to the road....