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Spring has arrived to New England, and it is a time of year that gets me twittery and a-glow. Looking at the budding trees, clear blue skies, and blossoming flowers makes me grateful for the simple beauties and treasures in my life: my family, friends, a home, food on the table, etc . . .

No, this post has nothing to do with those other soup books full of heart-warming stories and smile inducing quips. When I say "soup," I mean hot, liquidy meal. And when I say "soul," I mean my actual physical person, as well as that of my husband's. I suppose, if we are going to be honest - which I always try my best to be so with you all - I am not talking about soup at all, but rather chowder. The perennial New England favorite, with a slight twist.

On behalf of all editors, writing contest judges, and English teachers everywhere, I write this post.