there was this one time. i think i was around ten or maybe twelve, i was over at grandpa's for a visit, spending time in the basement, watching grandpa and brad i think it was, work on stuff. it seems like hanging out around the basement was all the grand kid's favorite pastime :) anyway, grandma had gone to town to go to the store i think, and it got to be around noon. grandpa asked me what i was going to fix for lunch. i told him that i didn't know, and couldn't cook. he said to go fix something. i went upstairs and stood in the kitchen for a little while. lunch? i fixed the only thing that i could think of to make. chicken soup. i found broth, cooked chicken, carrots and celery, onions. it was the middle of summer, and i only simmered the soup for about fifteen minuets, if that, and the vegetable pieces were huge. I'm sure that undercooked chicken soup was the last thing those two men wanted for lunch on a July afternoon, but both of them ate it without uttering a word. :)