damn,
duders.
it just so happens,
you can't really fully appreciate the burden of truly being alone
until something goes wrong,
and there's nobody around to help out at all.
oooof.
cleaning up poop isn't so great.
cleaning up the fast poops is worse by an order of magnitude.
not being able to fix the cause of that calamity is far far worse-
neighbors,
crabtree was a wreck friday,
and he was a wreck yesterday,
and he's not quite back on track yet today.
that really sucks,
for him, and for me.
i had to cancel my appointments
(or, i'm sure it's more than likely they were appropriated by someone else),
and hang out at the vet,
and then at home with the sick little shark-bullet, tending to his torn-up tummy.
....what?
no.
not from surgery, thankfully-
...from his object-destroying digestive destruction.
he's got three kinds of medication to recalibrate his intestinal equilibrium,
and i'm glad for that at least.
he's also on a diet of rice and sweet potato-
which is kind of nice,
because at least i'm still cooking for somebody.
...
and,
while he slept in fits and starts,
i packed up my post-script partner's part, parcel, and apparel
from within my Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
yup.
the bags are packed and stacked by the door awaiting retrieval.
no sense in carrying on,
or carrying a torch.
or carrying any extra burdens beyond the ones that come with a change of circumstance.
ugh.
tough times abound in my woodsly goodsly world.
***********
wow.
well,
that's a true story, told truly-
of woe and malady and missing and messing up.
so,
now that we've gotten that real-life documentarian doo-doo butter out of the way,
let's continue on along a positive route-
i needed some sort of strength to draw upon after a sleepless night
of upstairs, downstairs, inside, outside, upside-down repetition.
we were up a lot,
and stayed up once it was bluish-bright in the pre-dawn hour.
what did i do to power up?
i made the BIG BREAKFAST.
teleport:
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
yup.
there's no up-angle in empty-stomaching straight from the start
when facing a demanding day.
that's real.
i had batter cold-coolin' almost immediately,
spelt, coconut, oatmeal, buckwheat, and all-purpz, all together,
with salt, soymilk, lemon juice, vanilla, a little sugar,
vegan sour cream, baking soda and powder, and melted earth balance butter.
proportionately,
i'd advise
1/2 cup a.p. flour,
1/4 cup spelt
1/2 cup coarse oat flour
1/4 cup ground flake coconut
1/4 cup buckwheat
3 T sugar
3/4 tsp salt
1 tsp bakey soda and kapowder
1 cup soymilk
2 T lemon juice
1 T vanilla
3 T sour cream
4+ T melted butter,
and heck, man,
maybe even toss in some chocolate chiplets.
that's what i did.
also,
if you don't own a waffle iron, you're effing up.
dented pancakes with exxxtra-crispiness are expert.
real talk.
topped with melty chips, fresh backyard blueberries,
real maple syrup, because i am NOT an A*hole,
and finished with kapowdered sugar sprankles!!!!
to be completely honest, i didn't even come close to eating everything on my plate.
i've got a sad seperation stomache ache,
and some sympathy pains for my little buddy, too.
awwwwwwwww.
i STILL had potatoes roasting while the oven preheated,
getting red hot for a loaf of fresh baked bread, though,
c'mon
too much is the right amount,
and moping never accomplished anything good.
haha.
skin-on super-crispy butterish-fried skin-on red potato homeboy fried,
with red onion and garlic, smoked paprika, and parsley.
mmmmm.
crawnchy.
a few of those field roast soysages did right by my syrupy face, too.
i like 'em, even if they taste like poor person brekkie links.
oh, stop.
and tofu scram is always my jam.
for serious.
a crumbled-up turmeric-tinted nootch-boosted GPOP-activated,
smoked-sea-salt-seasoned scramble is what you need,
when what you need is POWER to see things through.
mmmhmmmm.
that's what's up.
my baby boy and i are livin' low and lonely,
but we're together.
yeah,
that also means that i'm missing the PIEBALD reunion.
i'd been anticipating it for some time,
reminiscing about our shared scene,
and them being the soundtrack to the most important periods of my past,
and down in their ol' stompin' grounds in boston, at that.
F* me, right?
i basically threw away that loot in exchange for a pooping puppy,
no looking back, i guess.
but,
that's responsible adulthood for you-
bummer.
oh well, friends,
y'know what they say:
you're part of it;
never quiet, never soft.....
No comments:
Post a Comment