Thin Bean Soup

This isn’t a recipe. It’s not even a serious post. 

You know how to make thin bean soup? Well, first you roast the beans. Then you grind them. Then you drip hot water over ’em… 

Coffee. I meant coffee. 

I could do without it. I could! I don’t really want to, but if I had to there are coffee substitutes. Chicory, tea, roasted dandelion root (related to chicory so that shouldn’t be a surprise) and any number of other things humans have attempted to use in lieu of the thin bean soup over the millennia. None of them were coffee, though. 

I’ve been thinking about something for a while now. Not coffee. Well, ok, yeah, I’ve been thinking about coffee. Look, it’s early! I’ve been busy! I’m tired! (When am I not tired?) No, I was thinking about humans and our strong trait towards anthropomorphizing whatever takes our fancy. We adopt things, and I can’t say ‘critters’ here because we’ll adopt a ghost in the machine if we can overlay a personality onto it.  I’ve been making art with Midj, who totally has a personality. Really! I mean, a quirky sense of humor, but then again, don’t we all… I have a robot vacuum who is named, scolded like an errant child, and sometimes put in time out for eating the rug. 

The cat greets me in the morning, and I talk back to her. I know it’s silly, but I do it with the dog, too, and it makes me feel happy. For one thing, they are usually happy to see me. For another thing, it’s this odd thing humans do of wearing their emotions externally. We reflect off others, and not just living things. 

I think I need more thin bean soup before I wander much further down this garden path.

1 thought on “Thin Bean Soup

  1. Magic morning elixir.

    It makes everyone else’s day much nicer.

    ….our cars *definitely* have personality. The van’s spirit animal is Boxer from Animal Farm.

    (Website is being funny, won’t let me post when logged in, trying this….)

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