Thursday, August 4


wednesdays are usually pretty flippin' hectic here at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
that's the truth.
and yesterday was yet another 'nother example of never ever taking it easy.
well, only because it was more of the same:
with baking,
and baking,
and baking,
and dinner-making sandwiched in-between some serious responsible pet-ownership.
that's real.
crabtree and i had a chance to bond over our shared enthusiasm for long hikes
and longer car rides.
he's just a puppy, guys.
he needs a whole lot of attention, and even more exercise.
we walked/hiked/climbed 8+ miles yesterday,
and that didn't include the time we spent playing indoors for hours.
the thing is-
even if i'm on the hook for 100% of a job i used to split,
i'm still not about to do less.
i'm not an A*-hole,
and besides,
even if i were:
too much is the right amount. regardless,
and that means we need much much MORE.
we're over here walking a whole hour earlier,
and for a whole lot longer,
over a whole lot farther distance,
and a whole lot faster.
we're bringing the noise,
just us boys...
and since we're going to have to get used to a new routine,
there's use wasting any time waiting for things to get easier.
hard styles and tough breaks always get me motivated.
i applied that principle to dinnertime, too.
big action, big flavor,
and kids,
i did something else i don't normally do-
i repurposed some leftovers, and made something exxxtra-expert.
check the worked-out-waste-not-wednesday-type teleport:

my portion control is still based on diner-for-two,
which is really scaled to a dinner for three-and-a-half average mortals.
i've got waaaay more than i could ever even unreasonably
full-bore shark-glutton out on.
i ate two people's worth, for sure,
but there was enough for another really-real professional munch-up.
i felt the pangs of an empty house,
even being as overfull as i was.
let's talk a little bit about those magical medallions of new-new up there-
tempeh-taco-crumbles, with tomato, and all the remaining jasmine rice
married and melded overnight into a mushy mass of meaty music,
and i added GPOP, nootch, soy sauce, liquid smoke, cayenne, black pepper,
and vital wheat gluten to the mix.
those fried-up rounds really took my mouth to some exciting places.
yum yum yum.
we had dry-fried slime-free baby bella slices;
steamed/seared broccoli forets;
fiesta guacamole, of course;
red onion, fancy tomatoes, scallions, cilantro, and lime;
plus, tiny-diced green peppers and vidalia onion,
added to grilled freshly cob-cut corn, with black beans and cilantro;
just because a piping-hot panful of tradition felt right to me-
sweets, hots, bell, poblano, red onion strips, and huge garlic slices,
oiled up and flash-fried like i was trying to cauterize some sort of savage injury.
...y'know what the best part of a build-it-yourself soft-flour hobby-kit is?
i'm in charge of how many tortillas i get.
am i understating this?
as many tortillas as i want, with fajitas.
that's expert.
it's been a few days of running nearly silent,
and i'm more certain than ever that communication is seriously my strongest suit.
so strong, in fact,
that overcommunicating is really what i'm deadpan deadlifting throughout the day.
where i come from,
every single voice in the house just gets louder, and louder,
because every one of our different opinions mattered as much as anyone elses'.
louder, and harder are two out of the three ways that i learned to talk,
in competition to be heard,
out of an innate and un-nurtured certainty that my words are worth something.
turns out talk is cheap, but most people i meet still won't spend a sentence.
i guess i'm just used to commandeering and dominating the discourse.
it's a matter of infinite nature, i'm afraid,
and without that take-it-to-eleven raised-voice contest,
my syllables will surround the whole scene like an invasion.
i've learned that when i'm not filling the room with words,
it's awfully awfully awful and fully quiet.
there's plenty of time NOT to speak,
but there're so many ideas to discuss,
and ideas to share, and opinions to debate,
and stories to tell, truly.
if there were friends around, and dungeons to crawl,
i s'pose i can guess what character class i'd play these days...
bards are the lamest ones, too;
never quiet, never soft.....

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