Jan Goldyn, Author

Don't blink twice or you'll miss that sweet spot called "soup time."

Now, I realize all chilly weather, and for some people, even summer days are "soup time." My dad, for instance, will be just as happy with a hot bowl of chicken noodle and a cup of coffee as he will be with a cool chicken salad and iced tea on a humid sunny afternoon.

Soup time for me tends to rev up ever so slightly when September waves its cool goodbye. When the first crisp yellow leaves crunch under my feet, I want to slow cook a chicken, cut some carrots, celery and onion into the broth and savor the smell all day as I lay under my comfiest blanket reading the Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.

Later in the month when I smell a camp fire, it's some hearty beef vegetable with barley (my husband says yuck to the barley ☺) that I crave along with a scrumptious chili.

But November -- November brings memories of my favorite. My mother-in-law's thick Irish potato soup with egg rivels and home-made bread.

And home-made bread -- well, that's a whole story on it's own! The smell of it baking while a fresh January or February snow falls gently outside the window is magic. No wonder it gets me to reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

It's decided then -- enchanting cozy stories are perfect when served with the divine creations that come from an ordinary kitchen and nature's simple bounty.

Excuse me now, as I eat my soup and day-dream of Bilbo Baggins inviting me into his hobbit house for a cup of tea and a sweet ♥