making fancy stuffed bread?
that's a thing
i've got today off.
yeah. that's right.
a sunday in the summertimes and i'm not working.
that means getting expert is a mandatory action.
there is only ever more activation and participation,
not that it's ever all that easy;
no matter how easy i make it look-
did i end up staying at work late to do a few extra tattbombs?
of course i did.
did that mean that i was even later going to the grocery store?
and therefore even later still to preheat ovens and chop up vegetables?
you know it.
my peoples were here,
waiting patiently, and in some cases, sleeping fitfully.
oh yes, y'all-
elsah and baby van took harvest and maple swimming
and boat-riding all dang day long.
all while i zip-zapped crap on the minkiest muthas that a sh!t-salad-style
saturday could summon from the sloppy swamps and bogs and
far flung reaches of the outskirts and borderlands of civilization.
and the cucch came up to suffer from heatstroke in a sweatshirt,
cold-chillin' and shaking and soaking on the sofa.
(he was here, yes, but he missed dinner completely)
and on top of that, dinner was taking for-flipping-ever to make,
even with sweaty and hungry homegirls, and a squinky squealing young man,
and a sleepy bestest friend, and a mom getting stressed out a little bitty bit,
it all worked out the way it was supposed to.
check the stromboli-style teleport:
those're eleven-inch long pouches of pure hottness.
broccoli and caramelized sweet onions and bacony-type pinkish bits,
and blobs and globs of fake chee and nootch and all that sh!t.
dinner didn't happen until well after dark,
but we all joined forces to forge a path towards breaking bread and being a team
and experiencing family togetherness and overcoming the high heat and extra
flame-broiled brutality that a 425degree oven adds to the mix.
we doo-doo those commitment and follow-through-type jauns when we can.
and i think we always can.
i said we'd have dope dinner,
and despite the inconveniences that really real life provided to prevent it,
we muscled through and found our feast waiting on the other side.
today is the day, duders.
i think it always is.
we DO get a choice, after all:
just be dope, or F* right off.
that's a pretty easy one to decide.
glover, vermont is calling to us.
the northeast kingdom is beconing us with painted buses and barns.
yeah. that's right.
the hippies and the sourdough rye and the garlic aioli and the armpits.
all of it.
bread & puppet theater time is happening.
today, friends, is all there is.
more of the other other parts resume tomorrow.
and we'll burn that bridge when we get to it.
today is the one where we participate in something better;
never quiet, never soft.....