Plum soup

The sour soup materials were bought long ago, after moving, working overtime, packing, and my inertity were dragged to the cold of the autumn. Whoever wanted to move home on August 10, but I had a full night shift that day, and the poor husband was alone in the house, who wanted to move to the new house and celebrate, had to eat too much, had to pack up a pile of stuff in another room and had to rest early. And the next couple of weeks, when things started to be sorted out, I realized that it was a huge amount of work, that my husband moved around with his own things, that he kept some things in a box or a bag, that there was no distinction between clean and dirty things, and that it was impossible to find a place where everything had to be rinsed out, that it was dirty, that it was clean, that it was dirty. It's normal to use something that'll make it all right, and it's normal to clean up after two weekends. New kitchens, cooking stoves, and cooking become more fun and cozy. This week, sour soup, sour and sweet and delicious, and the little ones in the family especially like to drink it, cook it at noon, give him a small drink, and say "Mother drinks sour soup" all the time in the afternoon, save the husband two cups in the fridge, come home after work, finish eating with his son and mother and say "Happy soup."。