!Thai pumpkin soup
---
agk's diary
27 November 2023 @ 14:40 UTC
---
written on ThinkPad X61 (2007) with
hp pavilion vf 15" monitor (2003),
Unicomp Model M keyboard (2022),
cup of jun jun mei, and WEVL blues show on radio
---
Evy's at work, first daughter sings in the living
room. "Oh ah no-no had a farm, ee-ah-ee-ah had a
farm..."

She narrates "I'm a dinosaur. This is my bag! Cover
me, ok? Where did my bag go mama? I think it's in
here...I find it! Mama I'm gonna put it on your
door ok? I'm going to the grocery store for babats.
Oh! I open the bag. I'm very very short. I'm a
beautiful kid. This is my stool step. Stool step!"

I bought a thai pumpkin from our friend Ruwen at
farmer market. Her first son's first daughter's
best friend. We swap kids one or two days a week.

Evy coached me making Thai pumpkin soup.
We're sick and tired, which necessitates soup but
decreases ability to follow written recipe.

Recipe:

Preheat oven to 400 or more. Quarter pumpkin; scoop
out middle. Save seeds to make pepitas. Rub oil on
it and baking sheet. Salt and pepper; bake.

After 25 or 35 minutes, it should be soft enough to
easily poke a knife through. Cool; remove skin.

Sautee onion and garlic in a pot. Add pumpkin, can
of coconut milk, cup or two of beef broth, some
ginger. Evy says I use too much ginger. More salt
and pepper, a couple tablespoons of peanut butter.

Puree. I use an immersion blender. Cook til thick.
Serve with hemp seeds, sriracha chili sauce (which
I've called cock sauce since I was a young punk;
there's a rooster on the bottle). Put salt or fish
sauce on the table, because I don't salt enough.
---
I tied empty cans that used to hold pineapples and
coconut milk to first daughter's shoes. She stomped
awkwardly around, proclaimed "These are my can
shoes! I'm very very tall. Here's my bunny. I think
she's pink. Oh! I fell down! Hug me mama. I need
you to hug me! Can you take my can shoes off please
ma'am?"

We're staying in the house because Evy, her sister,
and first daughter shared a car two hours up and
two hours back to Thanksgiving. Daughter vomited
all that night, sister tested covid+ Saturday. The
rest of us remain negatron but coughing, fatigued.
Test again tomorrow, then back to life.

Covid counts are up again. Rich people get out-
patient remdesivir at Evy's hospital. No way insur-
ance covers that. "Two more remdizzys today." Poor
people admitted with covid pneumonias. My hospital
hasn't gone back to masking or screening, but my
kids are coughing.

Walmart doesn't sell KN95 masks or N95 masks. They
have a big display by the makeup section with cough
syrup, zinc and vitamin C supplements, paracetamol
syrup, surgical masks. Sold-out covid test display
is buried deep in pharmacy.

Daughter eats a huge persimmon. The sweet orange
fruits fall from still-loaded leafless branches.
Mama eats a cinnamon applesauce-tasting medlar
fruit. We eat more pecans. The persian walnuts we
pick up on walks to the creek are tough to crack.

The last four days were brightened by beautiful
video clips of the hostage exchanges. Hamas in camo
fatigues, 3 AK magazines on MOLLE vest, rifle over
shoulder, arm protectively around anxious Israeli
boy. Whisper in his ear, he relaxes. She lifts him
into the Red Cross land cruiser. Carrying elderly
women who kiss the captor on the cheek, wave. A
glimpse of humanity.

Homecoming by Palestinian kids long held in Israeli
prison is beautiful too. Even bittered by testimony
an unreleased Palestinian kid was beaten to death
for asking about the truce. Israeli troops barrack
in a captured school & hospital. Prisoner families'
houses raided, sweets taken, warned of fines & re-
arrest if they display joy.

The truce may be extended a few more days. More
water, flour, and fuel may arrive. It's too cold
to sleep under plastic sheeting, but the whine of
drones and shock of artillery and bombs are paused.
It's a chance to play on can shoes, check the farm
for Thai pumpkins, cook warm, sweet, comforting
soup.