Saturday, January 2

s'tart today.

i think so.
capricious capricorn cups of creamchee', in four parts.
sound good?
it IS good.
the thing of it is-
my kids like plain ol' sh!t.
that's okay, i mean, they're teenagers from crackery suburban connecticut,
which is also okay,
but only if you're okay with being boring....
which we're NOT.
when we're all together as a team in the rural woodsly goodness,
getting ourselves upgraded is a priority every single day.
we made vanilla chee'cake tarts, neighbors-
we took regular stuff, and we activated it with some exxxtras,
and turned what could've been just average in the hands of others
into some expert new year hottness for our faces.
believe it,
and if you're disinclined to belief,
check yourself after you check the teleport:

the crumbly graham crackery crusts are just right.
and harvest helped make them...
by which i mean, she overmixed the main ingredients,
and ground them down into dust.
all that did was make the whole base better.
sure we had fewer for the refined grains of graham,
but, like,
every cup of vanilla-kissed cookie was a little more delicate than usual.
and that's a good thing.
the whisked mixture of chee'cakiness has such smoothness,
and all the mildly tart, lemon-juicy bite you want,
it's soft as silk, and light on the palate.
we kind of dominated the tart game this time around, friends,
and i think that we could've won with just that.
naturally, we never stop when we've gone far enough.
that's what babies and b!tchbags do.
we double-butter-whipped some vanilla creamy
dreamboat sugarsoft sexxxy frosting,
and fired that on top in swirls and swirls and swirls.
too much is the right amount,
and leaving well enough alone has never been our strong suit.
if we can't fix it up exxxtra-special,
we'll ruin it completely in the process,
but calling it done at the halfway point isn't where we pump the brakes.
no way.
what does that even mean?
it means we also made ourselves some sugar cookie hearts and stars to top 'em off,
and take the whole plain vanilla tart scene to eleven.
after all,
we wouldn't want to kick off a whole new year with some old weak sauce.
that's not our style.
harvest and maple have completely used up their vacation.
the week is over,
and today is our last day together for a while.
i'm not happy, at all, about the prospect of the time apart.
i mean,
how could i be,
when family togetherness is my favorite time, every time?
that's no joke.
coming home to a full Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
with two kids, a lovely lady, and a loyal dog,
and all of them seemingly geuinely excited to see me?
that's the good-goodness,
and most of the year,
it's rarer than the rarest pepe.
(and rare pepes are indeed scarce-google it)
we've got limited time to doo-doo the last scraps of big fun.
we race back to swap off and drop off,
before i blaze a trail northward in a quick-fast hurry to tatzap the entire day away.
it's a long, hard, lonely road home-
but that's what it costs, kids.
for serious.
warrior poetry in the woodsly goodness isn't cheap,
it's just far away from where all the money is.
this is it.
the second day of the year, the last day of hanging out,
and for what it's worth,
i've had a great time with my peoples,
and i'm lucky to have them help out around here while they're up.
without the bitter the sweet is just not as sweet,
and without the tarts, the treats aren't either;
never quiet, never soft..... 

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