Tuesday, August 16

ratatouille.

too many squash?
...always.
those overachieving sausagesque tubes
are forever showing up with all their friends.
but,
what about the rest of it:
piles of curly green peppers?
pounds of starchy thin-skinned potatoes?
a burdensome batch of onion bulbs?
acres of seedy, succulent tomatoes?
vegetable overabundance is what happens
at the end of summer...
and the only mutha-uckin' cure?
yes, indeed-
check the farmer's-delight teleport:
ratatouille.
what do you duders know about the garnish?
yuuuuuup.
delicate, edible oregano blossoms.
(so EXPERT)
c'mon.
a big honkin' potfull of hunks and chunks
of whatever we've got harvested, gathered,
and/or delivered.
farm share-type jauns, neighbors,
have got that too-much-of-not-enough
kind of a thing going on strong and long into the season.
whatever, my ninjas.
we've got fresh herbs by the kitchen garden grabhandful,
and leafy greens for days,
so our big bloppity bowls are brimming with
freshness and ferocious flavor.
the sun's finally giving us some shines, today,
just in time for the set-up setting of a viewable sunsetting.
i think ma nature approves of our french-style dinner.
***********
school shopping!
about as much fun as a full-fisted facepunch.
in the rain,
in the woodsly goodness,
at the touristy trappings of the central shopping area,
each and every out-of-stater had the same idea
as us.
i mean,
what else are they supposed to doo-doo?
ruin our experience, of course.
it's collateral tardification.
we're using our day off to do what needs doing.
y'know, like chores,
which include the caretaking, attiring and adorning
of the miniature mlles. rock.
but it just feels so unclean mixing amongst the
vacationing hordes of herdlike hulking bostonian bloaters,
who can't figure out any other way to coexist with their
own heinous affronts to the term family.
awwwwwwwwwww.
that's a thing.
there's just such a butt-nasty typical look
to the dumpy moms and their dumpy kids
milling around stuffing their dumpy faces.
i mean,
sweatpants in public?
gross.
sweatshort-shorts?
curds of leg-cheese revealingly gross.
and just once i wish there'd be some truth in advertising-
like, if the emblazoned boast on the buttcheeks
brazenly blurted something believable-
juicy?
pink?
a tender easter ham has little in common,
besides being composed of fatty pork.
oh, sh!t.
that just happened.
alas,
accurately descriptive adjectives are so rarely embroidered....
the upside of all of that?
we stayed busy on a bullsh!t rainy day off.
and,
thanks to the mutants and their spawn,
we're feeling really mutha-'ucking superior.
moreso than usual, even,
which is saying volumes.
and we've completed the lists of needful duties.
which makes tomorrow a full-fledged fun day.
***********
maybe we're just on that hard-style high-test
hyperactive hottness kind of livin'.
i wouldn't be suprised, at all.
i mean,
we started the day with this:
uh-huh.
fresh blueberry muffins.
that's our move, kids.
breaking the fast with a viking smash
...of nutrients.
now,
with ratatouille in our bellies,
we're gonna keep it going,
well past this picture-perfect sunset,
and deep into the darkness;
never quiet, never soft.....

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