I don't like doctors. I suppose doctors, as people, are tolerable, but I don't like waiting interminably with my clothes off just in order to be poked on. (I know, putting it that way sounds half-way enjoyable, but you know what I mean.) I don't have a primary care physician, since I so rarely go, and only go when at death's door--my physician is whoever happens to be manning the ER at the time. At my last doctor visit--I was delirious with fever--I was in the ER for about 6 hrs. They ran a few simple tests, gave me some Tylenol, and charged me several hundred dollars for the honor. (I'll pay up eventually, St. Joes.) Anyway, I've been sick for the past few days, so I figured it's time to pull out the cure-all. I'd rather not have another violating visit to the ER.
What we have here is homemade chicken noodle soup, lovingly assembled by The Good Wife. Chicken, noodles, carrots, onion, garlic, the usual. Since I firmly believe in the healing qualities of hot stuff I added a special feature, Georgia Peaches hot sauce. Simple ingredients: peaches, habanero peppers, onions, celery, sugar, peppers, sour mash bourbon, and spices. (I covered up part of the label for my younger readers' sake--the well-placed peaches on the model look surprisingly like boobies.) The beverage is a SweetWater porter, Exodus. Strong, thick, and chocolaty. I should be better in a couple of hours.