Tuesday, October 13

i am amused.

it's snowing up here in the woodsly goodness,
but unlike the frozen plains of the fair-to-middling midwest,
ma nature can't get it to stick.
the hottness has held off the frosty sauce for another day.
something about core temperatures or some such science talk.
i had reports of freezily fresh condensation come down the pipes
from the upper west side of the northern america, (as in: vancouver) too.
i guess that the warrior poetry club across the continent was
in for a flurry of cold and wet wishy-washiness.
good thing i come equipped with a burly, manly winter beard already!
it may not be snoopin' on it's own slushy puppyhood,
but the slow-falling featherweight frozen rain is absolutely awesome looking.
nice.
tuesday is new release book day.
don't trouble your little heads about upgrades to my library;
i got they, my ninjas.
it's also our day off up here in the woodsly goodness.
since rob and sharon were headed back down south to grow their little baby,
jess was headed to portland to hunt for a 'special occassion' dress,
and uncle steven (yes. still here.) needed a lumbering jack of a breakfast
to powerhouse his power tools into the new island in our kitchen,
we celebrated the first fresh snowfall of fall with a tried-and-true treat:
pannie mutha-lickin' cakes, mother-F*ers!!!!!
not that the picture shows you how bangin' that syrup is;
but trust me, it's off the hinges...
them jawns is GRADE B, son.
why?
because 'premium extra fancy light amber grade A'
is just not berserker barbarian.
it doesn't even start with the right letter to alliterate on.
yeah,
look it up.
specifically,
grade B is the crude doo-doo-
the last lethargic sap-slappin' drips and dregs.
these hardwood holdouts covering the rear,
once they're boiled to bits,
make for a deep, dark, thick, sweet extra-mapley syrup.
the B is totally 'A+'.
i'm sayin'.
the cast iron catalytic crusader,
the turbo-tough vermont castings hottness-maker,
is keeping us roasty-toasty.
we ordered three more cords of wood.
the woodstove is burning with blazing battle-beastly blasts.
the house smells so dang good;
woodsmoke, indoors and out,
razor/laser-sharp air all leafy an' that,
Folk Life candles,
and new books.
the 'what's that smell?' game now has a few high points to it, too.
Hallowe'en housewarming house party, duders.
it's happening.
no kids, all play.
more info on that hotspot of hub-bub, hob-nob, and hullabaloo
as it unfolds;
never quiet, never soft.....

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