“Posing for photos is tiring,” Professor Plum said as he walked into the mail room.

This week he didn’t read the mail…. (More)

“I’ve told you that,” replied Ms. Scarlet, who has done it often. “But you didn’t believe me.”

Chef shrugged. “I kinda liked it. It was fun.”

“Of course you’d like it,” the Professor of Astrology Janitor said with a half-wink. “You’re gorgeous.”

“And you ain’t chopped liver,” Professor Plum said. “Your portrait came out great.”

Ms. Scarlet smiled at Plum. “So did yours, sweetie. And we should go join the resident faculty in the wine cellar library, to drink think on our motto of Magis vinum, magis verum (“More wine, more truth”).”

As Plum and Scarlet left, the Squirrel tapped at his Blewberry: “I wonder how she does that thing where she says the strikethroughs and the italics and the parentheses.”

“Elocution lessons,” Chef said.

In the staff poker game, the Professor of Astrology Janitor ran his fingers through his tousled hair. He had opened by raising with a pair of red Sixes, but the Chef re-raised and the Squirrel called. One of them surely had his Sixes beat but the pot odds and implied odds were good enough for a call, so he did.

The flop brought the Ace of Hearts and the Ten and Six of Spades. Chef put in a minimum bet and, again, the Squirrel called. The Professor of Astrology Janitor thought for a moment. Chef’s bet felt like a teaser, as if she wanted callers. Probably Ace-King or Ace-Queen, or perhaps even two Aces or two Tens. The Squirrel’s play read like a draw, probably Spades. He was behind three Aces or three Tens, and not an overwhelming favorite a hand like Ace-King of Spades. But he couldn’t simply call and give a cheap draw.

He put in the pot-sized raise and Chef announced: “I’m all in.” The Squirrel flicked his cards into the muck and the Professor of Astrology Janitor decided Chef had the goods. He folded as well, and Chef let out a breath. “I was worried about three Aces,” she said.

The Professor of Astrology Janitor began his plaintive mewling and Chef went to the kitchen to check on her Breakfast Chicken Soup, leaving your lowly mail room clerk to review the week’s correspondence….

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Dear Ms. Crissie,

Erika in D.C.

Dear Erika,

We commend your courage and we agree wholeheartedly. The God-King is trying to force Democrats to choose between current immigrants and future immigrants, and Democrats must refuse that bait. If Democrats even discuss that proposal seriously, the God-King and Republican hardliners will merely escalate their demands. Democrats must draw a line in the sand on this, or face piecemeal surrender to white supremacy.

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Dear Ms. Crissie,

So, umm, do we get to see the staff portraits? Also, how is Breakfast Chicken Soup different from regular chicken soup, and how does Chef make it?

A Portrait of Breakfast in Blogistan

Dear Squirrel,

Of course you can see the staff portraits. Here is Professor Plum:

Professor Plum

Here is the Professor of Astrology Janitor:

Professor of Astrology/Janitor

And here is Chef:

Chef

As for her Breakfast Chicken Soup, she begins by sautéing 1 small diced onion and 2 cloves of minced garlic in ½ cup of butter and ¼ cup of white wine in an 4½-quart Dutch oven over medium-high heat. She adds a tablespoon of dried sage, a teaspoon each of dried parsley, rosemary, and thyme, ½ teaspoon of lemon zest, two generous pinches of salt, and freshly-ground black pepper. She next adds 4 peeled and diced carrots, 3 sticks of diced celery and 2 thinly-sliced leeks. As the vegetables soften, she cuts 2 chicken breasts into roughly ½-inch cubes. Once the vegetables are soft, she adds the chicken and 8 cups of chicken stock and lowers the heat to medium. When the soup comes to a boil, she reduces the heat to a low simmer and covers the pot.

Finally, when the chicken is fully-cooked, Chef slowly whisks in 3 beaten eggs … and she says that is the difference between Breakfast Chicken Soup and regular chicken soup, which she would make with noodles rather than strands of cooked egg. She also serves the breakfast version with rough-cut, buttered toast, rather than croutons. Bon appétit!

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Photo Credit: Erik McGregor (Getty Images)

Erika in D.C.; trying to force Democrats to choose between current immigrants and future immigrants.

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Happy Sunday!