scones.

i bake a lot of sh!t, duders.
i really do.
yesterday was a fancy triangle-shaped day.
that's a thing.
i pressed some flaky flours and buttery blops into wet and sloppy discs,
and sliced 'em and sprankled 'em with sugar,
and even froze 'em for a second to activate some kind of fluffy magic....
i did all those things.
but mostly,
i just tried to make scones.
yeah.
now check the semi-successful teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
two kinds, obviously.
i mean, i'm not a weak-sauce diaper-babyish nancypants,
and i'll dump a second batch no problem, neighbors.
besides,
i've got nowhere else to be, anyway.
i love doing what i do in my Folk Life-styled hard-stylish kitchen.
word.
now, there's blueberry gluten-free scones in the back there.
and they're pretty flippin' expert if i do say so myself.
...and i do SO say so.
i think i need to fine tune all my fancy non-wheat flours.
i'm getting there, and soon, i'm sure i'll have an overcomplicated
custom-blended golden-ratioed perfectly balanced method to my selections.
uh-huh.
i'm just always like that, i guess.
anyway,
besides those dense bombers of blueberried mineola-zesty personal cakes,
there's a whole other 'nother kind up front up there.
chunky homemade applesauce and dried cranberry-type jauns,
with real-person grown up time flour power for my face!
sorry, kids,
but wheat is my mutha-F*ing homeboy.
those ninjas are super-flipping good.
(i think it was the applesauce, honestly)
i took first-timer scone powers to the eagle's-egg-nutrient level of new hottness.
there are of course, no eggs from el aguila, and probably no nutrients, either,
but philosophically, they're soaring through the heavens an' that sooo hard.
scones, y'all.
that's one more thing i do now.
***********
it's a sun-shiny thursday in the woodsly goodness.
but there's a stormcloud over my head.
uh-huh.
awwwwwwwwwwww.
dammed-up and jammed up, clammed up and pent up,
the flood waters are rising and getting broken up and brackish with salt tears
and piss and vinegar and lava spit and honey-dew.....
what?
yeah.
the secret universal plan is having a laugh, i suppose.
it's a hard-hearted hurt-filled mess of damned-if-i-do-or-don't type business.
luckily,
i've got some new socks.
you know i need that kind of warm and grounded knit safety net sh!t, son.
and these are equipped with hugs and kisses all over them.
for serious.
i'm stepping lightly,
and i'm carrying a burden i leave broken bits of all along my trail.
i may or may not find my way back again,
retracing and reliving these fractured figments and fallow factual facets,
but every single mark i make leaves me lighter.
i'm sure that once i'm good and lost i'll feel freer and step livelier,
but until then,
the dour trod and plod through this sour swamp is leeching away my levity,
and seriously sending me sinking downwards.
i'm encumbered, mutha-b!tches.
and i'm collapsing under my own weighty load.
it's all really happening,
just like always.
today is the day, duders;
never quiet, never soft.....