Tuesday, June 4


it's all about the sandwiches.
i mean it.
when i decide that something needs expertification,
i get busy getting busy on that big action.
last night,
i did something wrong when i activated my dough,
and it came out so right.
best pan-bread yet, for my little hungry facehole.
that's real.
of course,
i added semolina and gluten and sweetener, too,
so the odds were that even with a misstep in there somewhere,
a little splash more of the wet parts,
or a little punch more of the dry ingredients,
and one or the other or both would fix it right up.
....and that was absolutely the case.
it made it better than good, actually.
bread is dope. i said it, i meant it.
and neighbors, while you're at it?
check the alBie.L.T.-type teleport:
did it taste even better than it looked?
don't be dumb.
obsessive mindfulness in the kitchen is paying off, i think.
turns out,
i'm just always taking it to eleven because i have to.
nature always wins.
i also tried out the coconut bacon process.
one more not-as-good-as-real-bacon item to add to the list.
i put another 'nother checkmark in the too-much column.
caramelized sweet onions and lettuce and vine-ripened 'matoes and sprouts,
and those breaded blocks of fried-up tofu, too.
and five circles of seedless baby cucumber on each square.
culinary geometery is something i'm starting to like a little tiny bit.
what's for breakfast in the woodsly goodness?
Tea 'N' Toast has the morning off.
banana-citrus-coconut, with strawberry puree on top.
i make it all complicated all the time,
because simple sh!t is for simple people.
i like intricate interactive participation in my leisures and pleasures.
my simplest pleasures are pretty flippin' involved.
infinite nature will not be deterred by any circumstantial circumferences.
the circles of real life, woodsly goodness, and Folk Life all overlap overhead.
a ghost ring halo hangs above me,
like the eye of a hurricane, or the center of a smoke ring.
i am the site-specific focal point for spirits and memories;
and it doesn't seem to matter where i go, or what i do,
because it's all really happening all around me.
a skald can't stop spinning his lore,
a bard can't stop plying his poetry,
a truth teller can never stop;
never quiet, never soft......

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