baking is what happens.

hey now.
it's another 'nother weekend in the woodsly goodness.
you know what that means, dontcha?
yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
more opportunities to look at my food.
blueberries and chocolate and a little orange zest, y'all.
that's what fell into my batter.
so many good flavors in the same place at the same time.
i'm kind of all about that oat flour action these days, too, kids.
i guess i just like the hearty wholesome hottness it imbues.
it's like it's pretending to be good for you,
but it's just mixed up with all that 'oh-so-good and bad for you' sh!t.
but thickness-type manly fruity jauns is doubly tricky,
because fruit has vitamins and nutrients an' that, too.
fruity oaty super-frosted cake is how i'm pairing my mixed signals today.
teleport:

plus,
there's sprankles on it.
so it must be good for you, right?
okay, in all honesty,
it's a little too sweet, what with all that frosting;
and maybe streusel would've been a better choice;
but pink and red hearts and dots don't stick to streusel,
so this is just how it has to be, neighbors.
this is how making up treats goes.
it's the next time that is always more expert,
because we're quick studies and even faster adapters.
wordimus prime.
*
and you know that isn't it, either.
check out the teleport:

yes, yes, y'all-
deluxe drizzled rock bloxxx with their own brand of roasty toasted spranks
stuck to the black-strapping chocolate sauciness like dinosaurs in tar pits, y'all.
uh-huh.
i doo-doo that decadent sh!t.
i know a bunch of benjamins.
it's all about them, or so i hear-
but in this instance,
my buddy ben from flatbread, who is also an artisan woodworking signmaker
requested those jauns specifically-
and he buttered me up with a block of crafty Folk Life crossover hottness:

c'mon!
i saw the signs, ninjas.
that's right.
i don't know if i mentioned how much better my friends are than yours?
oh, i did?
well, it's still true.
gratitude and generosity and professional appreciation, duders.
that's the way we work it in the woodsly goodness.
truth tellers can never stop, after all.
***********
too much is the right amount,
and too much is still what's really happening.
i've got lists and lists of to-do's to do,
and half enough time and even less sweet moolah to do 'em with.
too much of not enough counts for something, i suppose.
i'm busy, b!tches.
make moves;
never quiet, never soft.....