left overs.

neighbors,
thanksgiving!

y'know?
brown-sugar butter cookies are good for you,
especially when you need a batch as accents for the bigger picture.
and that means you get the exxxtra cookies to munch up in the meantime...
thanksgiving,
and giving thanks,
as in,
affecting an accepting attitude of activation and invitations,
and of being humbled, if only for a small second or two,
by all the good things going on in your life.
i mean,
c'mon.
even though we're not killing any turkeys up here in the woodsly goodness,
and there's no loss of life to reflect on our happiness to be alive,
or any murdered-up munchables to accurately illustrate that plentiful victuals,
virtues, values, and valor are what we're reppin' up here
hidden out amongst the mountains and the trees...
but,
even when there's only vegetables on our plates?
yeah.
we still celebrate like champions.
champions of giving thanks for great efforts and accomplishments...
....especially in the kitchen.
for really real,
gratitude and generosity are what worthy warrior poets are all about every day-
the thing is, though, kids,
that's especially taken to eleven on the designated day dedicated
to gluttonous praise for the abundance of overabundant good food and good times.
even if that's only halfway accurate half of the time-
too much is the right amount,
and THAT'S what we're thankful for.
what's happening is a ferocious, focused, fact-based true story
of actual everyday active participation in the creation of a superlative celebration.
guys,
i made a feast.
i doo-doo that sort of sh!t.
mmmhmmmm.
under the influence of a full-moon,
and the berserker werewolf battle-beastly bad-vibes of a molto mojo mishap,
involving colder climes, tough times, hard styles,
and a whole house full of ladies who watched it all unfold.
that's a thing.
harvest, maple, ampy-d, and my ma.
yikes.
so many girls waiting for food.
yeah.
luckily,
i had my homeboy, crabtree, to help keep the overall manliness of my manse
at higher-than-peak levels.
ha.
he's a rock-solid moon-knight fusilier of cavalier canine catapulting sweetheartedness.
yes, he is.
and i'm thankful for his great big dumb shark-bullet head.
also,
this is the first time my children have seen 'im,
and so far, they're all pretty psyched on each other.
.......anyway,
from early in the morning, i had all those hungry, impatient people,
sitting and staring, sneaking bites, taking naps, and noticing (frequently)
that the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is not a warm and fuzzy place,
no matter how inviting the interior.
word up.
i mean, it's a fortress.
designed to keep me safe, not comfortable,
i started cooking at 6:30 a.m.
beginning with the traditional Tea 'N' Toast,
and continuing into cakes, and cookies, and pastry dough,
and so on and on until 4 p.m.,
when the whole big action was all ready all at once.
i've got my timing down,
and i've got more than eleven items on the mutha-flippin' menu!
expert?
um, i'm inclined to think so.
so what was the final score?
cold people- 3
hungry people- 5
good dog- 0
naughty dog- 1
furious fit-throwing do-it-all-1
helpers- 1.5
nappers- 2
gratefully satisfied lords and ladies of the lair- 6
damn.
it's a good thing that friends don't keep count...
(but they sure-as-sh!t had better take sides.)
rules is rules,
and taking it easy would've been the same as taking a hot sh!t on the table.
success is all i want, and all i've allowed for on the schedule-
nine hours of on-your-feet killing-it crucial albie rock domination,
all devoured in under fifteen minutes.
my life is a never-ending loop of domino effects.
lots of set-up,
a little bit of knocking down,
and a bunch of mess to clean up after.
it's all really happening-
family togetherness, feasting, driving back and forth,
and a from-scratch Folk Life extravaganza of self-celebrating expert creation.
this is What Is,
and that's that;
never quiet, never soft.....