i made some cookies.
what else is new?
oh, c'mon, neighbors;
i thought you guys liked cookies?
ohhh, you DO do you?
these new soft and chewy chunks are what's good in the woods,
and i want you to check this mutha-'ucking teleport:
i started out with just a desire for thumbprints.
dents in the middle, stuff in the center, all of that...
once i got started, i couldn't stop activating,
and i ended up with peanut butter coconut chocolate chip softies,
with strawberry frosting swirls,
AND powdered sugary sprankles.
MORE cookie means MORE awesome,
and too much is the right amount, anyway.
the recipe, however, is a little bit of a hot mess.
mostly because i just kept throwing sh!t in a bowl until it looked right.
i know for sure i used around a third of a cup of freshly ground coconut,
a whole stick of butterish,
about a cup of mixed sugars (bottom of the bag style)
a third of a cup of natural, wet and blarpity peanut butter,
5 ish ounces of applesauce
a big squirt of agave, because it seemed molto dry
two cups of flour
a pinch of salt
a tiny shake of baking powder,
and a generous handful of those terrific little-sized chocolate chips.
they're just this side of greasy,
and they're well past the point of chewy.
i baked them at 375F for thirteen unlucky minutes,
and re-poked the centers while they cooled.
sometimes, wet cookie bater doesn't keep it's dented shape,
and you gotta hit it with a secondary thumbprint.
i'm prepared, with a pair of thumbs, to do what i must-
the nestled nook i needed for the strawberry fill wouldn't be there,
and they'd look way too tall.
nobody really loves a too-tall cookie.
sure, that sounds impossible.
heck yes, giant cookies are rad.
that's not an appropriate cookie trait.
there's NO time to waste,
but there's no free time either.
it's ALL expensive,
and elusive, really.
i gotta mow this lawn,
because that jaun is getting too tall.
and much like the world of cookies,
that's some weak sh!t.
i need to have a shorter blade scenario around the firepit,
for two reasons-
one: it's a FULL MOON TONIGHT,
and i think we should burn our piece of the woodsly goodness high and bright
and two: my children, harvest and maple will be here soon,
for more family togetherness, and the lyme diseasey length of tick-hiding turf
isn't the best way to encourage some outside time for those two shut-ins.
i'd rather be chopping weirdie scraps of found wood,
but i s'pose a speck of responsible homeownery ornery adulthood has the priority.
there are obligations, both real and imagined,
that weigh heavily on the brow of your buddy over here.
there's more to be done than i can do alone,
but jeez, louise,
the white mountain sourdough is already in the oven,
the seeded rye is bulk fermenting on the counter,
the starters have been fed and so has crabtree,
Tea'N'Toast was served an hour ago,
i'm waiting for a respectable time to get out there and make some noise.
loud fresh hardness is most unwelcome in the soft hours of the morning-
i'm even opening the windows wider,
to wake up the neighborhood with the aroma of fresh baked greatness....
just so i can start up the spinning blades sooner.
life isn't always the big deluxxxe epic i'd hoped,
but it sure as sh!t isn't ever boring.
it's all really happening,
and i'm pushing participation to the limit;
never quiet, never soft.....