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RDJ-- Creamy Onion and Potato Soup, 02-19-00  Recipe du Jour
 Feb 19, 2000 07:27 PST 

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Volume 3      Number 43
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CREAMY ONION AND POTATO SOUP

2 tbs butter or margarine
2 tbs all-purpose flour
1 cup chopped onion
1 large clove garlic, minced
2 (14-1/2 oz) cans ready-to-serve chicken broth
4 cups peeled, cubed potatoes (about 3 large)
1/2 cup sliced green onions
1/8 tsp salt (or more to taste)
1/4 tsp ground white pepper
1 cup liquid non-dairy creamer or milk

Melt butter in a Dutch oven over low heat; add flour, stirring until smooth.
Cook 1 minute, stirring constantly. Add onion and garlic; cook 1 minute or
until onion is tender. Gradually add broth, stirring constantly. Add
potatoes and next 3 ingredients. Bring to a boil; cover, reduce heat, and
simmer 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, or until potatoes are tender. Stir
in non-dairy creamer, and heat thoroughly. Yield: 7 cups.

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AT THE MIDDLE PASSAGE

By Walter Mills


Giant Worms Discovered in the Gulf


It is not often we get a chance to read good news in the morning paper. For
that reason, if no other, I was happy to see the headlines in a recent news
article that trumpeted the discovery of 250-year-old giant worms in the Gulf
of Mexico.

The headline alone was enough happiness for me, and I did not bother to
continue with the rest of the article, which could only have been
anticlimactic. The world has become such an overly determined place, that
the discovery of some new and outlandish species living practically in our
backyard tends toward the marvelous.

That is the purpose of amazing things after all, to realign our assumptions
and wake us out of the daze of the ordinary.

We live in an age where everything, except maybe why we exist, can be
explained. The past 500 years has been a record of the triumph of science
and technology, of discovery and exploration. But even the most amazing
wonders - sending images and voices through tiny wires, walking on the
moon - soon become mundane, yesterday's news.

When I was a young boy sitting in front of the television set watching
cartoons and adventure serials, Africa was still called the Dark Continent,
terra incognito. Jungle Jim, in his pith helmet, may have hacked through
the same set of vines week after week on a back lot in Hollywood, but
watching, I was transported to a land unknown. Now we have explored Africa
a hundred times in documentaries and news articles until the Dark Continent
is all mapped out in our minds.

Giant worms that began their lives sometime before the French Revolution
bring back for me some of the possibility for surprise I felt as a boy
watching Jungle Jim and Captain Midnight. The world of the amazing and the
marvelous is not totally dead.

There have been a few other breaking stories, sometimes in garish tabloids
at the checkout counter of the grocery store, that have left me with such a
sense of wonder that I hurried not to read them for fear of finding out the
truth -   the outline of a giant angel crashed to earth in Arizona;
remnants of the lost civilization of Atlantis discovered beneath the waters
of the Mediterranean. What would it mean if they were true? What if it
were proved beyond a doubt that an alien race had built the pyramids? Would
our lives change at all?

Probably not so much as we imagine. Already, if polls are to be believed,
the majority of us believe in angels, yet we don't seem to act any better
with that belief.   What has happened to our capacity for wonder?

Growing up could easily be viewed as the process of adjusting to the
ordinary. The far-fetched and inexplicable were all around us when we were
young. Everything was equally mysterious and new. Sometimes, from the
corner of our eye we caught glimpses of unicorns and fairies. As a young
boy, the 18th century English poet William Blake claims to have seen a tree
filled with angels. When I was very young I often heard beautiful voices
singing faintly at a distance, the Celestial Choir, I imagined.

All of our childhood visions have been brushed away by thoughtful adults.
But along with our loss of dreams comes a sense of the inescapable
everydayness of life. As adults we allow ourselves to forget what the great
mystics and most children seem to know; the world is quite as mysterious and
wonderful as it ever was. It is only our capacity for wonder that fails us
as we leave childhood behind. Sadly, in a world that pushes young boys and
girls out of childhood too early, even our children are losing wonder.

Meanwhile dark stars are imploding and a great mass of black holes devours
stars like grains of sand at the center of the Milky Way. In the quiet
waters of the Gulf of Mexico a species of giant worms grows older.
Somewhere out in the desert of the far west, an angel has fallen to the
sand, its wings beating an outline in the dust.



(The above column originally appeared in the Centre Daily Times and is
copyright 2000 by Walter Mills. All rights reserved worldwide. To contact
Walt, address your emails to wmi-@vicon.net)

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Do you remember?


The Purple People Eater

Artist: Sheb Wooley
Words and Music by Sheb Wooley



Well I saw the thing comin' out of the sky
It had the one long horn, one big eye
I commenced to shakin' and I said "ooh-eee"
It looks like a purple eater to me

It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater
(One-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater)
A one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater
Sure looks strange to me (One eye?)

Well he came down to earth and he lit in a tree
I said Mr. Purple People Eater, don't eat me
I heard him say in a voice so gruff


It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater
One-eyed, one-horned flyin' purple people eater
One-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater
Sure looks strange to me (One horn?)

I said Mr. Purple People Eater, what's your line
He said it's eatin' purple people and it sure is fine
But that's not the reason that I came to land


Well bless my soul, rock and roll, flyin' purple people eater
Pigeon-toed, undergrowed, flyin' purple people eater
(We wear short shorts)
Flyin' purple people eater
Sure looks strange to me

And then he swung from the tree and he lit on the ground
He started to rock, really rockin' around
It was a crazy ditty with a swingin' tune


Well bless my soul, rock and roll, flyin' purple people eater
Pigeon-toed, undergrowed, flyin' purple people eater

Flyin' little people eater
Sure looks strange to me (Purple People?)

And then he went on his way, and then what do ya know
I saw him last night on a TV show
He was blowing it out, a'really knockin' em dead
Playin' rock and roll music through the horn in his head

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Many of you visit the Hunger Site on a daily basis and, with the simple
click of a mouse, donate food for the hungry, which is paid for by the
Hunger Site's sponsors. This is a great way to do good and feel good at the
same time while it only costs you the time it takes to click your mouse.
Want to do even more? Well, our friend, Ray Whiting, has a page at his Two
Scoops site where you can click on the Hunger Site to donate food AND do the
same thing for the Red Cross, cancer research, and four other groups. We
urge you to visit this site daily to make your free donation. As we said, it
doesn't cost you anything but a few moments of time to do a lot of good.

So please visit: http://www.twoscoops.com/giving.html

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