goodbye.

twenty thirteen ate it, neighbors.
hard.
but now,
we're gonna eat it.
...even harder.
yeah.
tonight's the night.
me and mine are making the magic happen,
and amassing all the last minutes of our time in this place.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress;
winter vacation;
the woodsly goodness;
family togetherness;
the works.
we've had fun,
but it's all almost over and done with, now.
check the group-self-portrait-type teleport:

c'mon.
it's our very last night as a group,
and it's the very last night for doo-dooing ALL those things
that make room for a whole brand new year.
are we gonna burn sh!t?
c'mon.
of course we are.
out with the old and busted and flammable.
hmmm?
what?
are we gonna roast marshmallows when we do it to it?
naturally.
we aren't lame waterbabies, y'know.
but,
before we blaze our barbarian cold-weather combat combustion
we're gonna do what we do,
when we are doing what experts do.
huh?
yeah.
dumps.
on our faces.
believe it.
pinched packets of celebratory super-hottness?
yes.
that's what's up.
before the party gets started,
there are lots of preparations .
always.
for example-
you can't use warm filling inside your folded-up pouches.
duh.
it bursts the dough open and ruins the dumplings.
so i made it early, and chilled it out.
(it's pretty cold in here still)
check the teleport:

that's the good stuff.
brussels sprouts,
and spinach, and red onions,
and spices and spices and spices,
and exxxtra-firm sprouted hyperactivated tofu,
and carrots, and celery, and sprouts,
and secret recipe seasonings,
and all of that busy business that is sure to take it to eleven.
yup.
we are well stocked on stuff that doesn't suck,
and we're well and truly intending to go for broke tonight.
broken, and busted, at the very least,
and maybe actually impoverished as well, before we're finished.
but
before all of that,
we have to make sure we have our sauces marrying, too.
the complex blending takes time to reach a perfect balance.
no jokes.
check the one-two-type teleport:

brown and sweet and made for drizzling and dunking and dipping.
word.
and also this:

so spicy.
garlic and garlic and garlic,
and chilis, and sriracha, and sesame, and soy,
and a splash of secret sweetener, too.
this one doesn't F* around.
and neither do the rest of us.
the party is gonna start any minute.
this is it.
the last of it,
before the first of it.
it's ALL really happening,
and it's about time.
*
goodbye 2013.
nobody liked you,
and we won't miss you,
and it's high time you remembered your manners
and stopped overstaying your worn-thin welcome.
the biting bitter brutal cold is in my bones tonight.
the scathing raging savage stormswept fury is in my soul.
and all of it unfolds and expands and emanates and overlaps
exactly the way it's supposed to.
me and mine are traveling into the future;
never quiet, never soft.....