harvest and maple,
my thoroughly enjoyable and most excellent children,
are back where they belong,
snug in the hallowed halls of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
tucked away in the remote rural reaches of this woodsly goodness.
we get a little more time to be together,
before the rigors of a demanding high school yearful of learning commences.
we've got less than a week, really-
it's just wednesday to wednesday,
with good times sandwiched inside those day-off midweek bookends
which have been designated travel days in the car.
we've got limitations imposed, but we'll impose our will on the remainder,
and brute-force ourselves into some sort of big action.
we doo-doo that make-it-work-type sh!t.
yesterday i drove.
and drove and drove and drove,
and before and after, i baked, i walked, i cooked,
and i spanned a whole mess of minutes getting where i needed to be.
well, yeah, man-
it WAS a busy day.
relaxing is not something i've done in a dog's age,
and despite my dog's age, he's just as disinclined to take it easy, too.
it would seem we're a revved up full moon werewolf high-stress family,
and we're all at it all together again.
i s'pose it's not ALL of us.....
those of us without an exit strategy are shedding our skins
and howling wild in these hills.
committed to committing acts of expertism
for the whole entire rest of this restless week.
what do we do when it's the first night of our time as a team?
we eat pasta.
rules is rules.
one way or another,
there's gonna be 'ronis going on,
and when we get it going on, we really do our best to do what's dope.
check the farfalle-type teleport:
beet-striped bowties, broski!
with semi-caramelized sweet onion,
and broth-braised broccolini and asparagus spears,
shredded baby spinach, and fresh sweet small tomatoes.
is that a little molto italiano parsley sprank situation on there?
i mean, c'mon...
what am i?
some sort of an A*hole?
you gotta garnish it,
or you're definitely doing it wrong
was it qualifiably expert?
you know it.
that wasn't it.
pasta is good,
but too much is the right amount...
...and that herb-crusted breaded seitan cutlet jaun?
that's the freshness from the future.
corn starch and flour, with GPOP, black pepper, oregano,
basil, sage, and thyme, tossed together,
as a coating for some of my crucial homemade wheaten hottness.
butterish-fried, for the saltiness factor,
and hit up with a little very fresh, very peppery poppin'-off cress,
and charred garlic sprankles.
barely blackened on the outside, soft on the inside, and super elite in my mouth.
that's a fresh-plucked oregano flower.
because you know we like our food to look sexy.
ugly food is not for me.
tattoos all day, every day.
that's what the schedule suggests is going on.
writing and baking and picture taking, dog-walking and sh!t-talking
are what my mornings are made of;
and big dinners with big kids and this burly dog are what the nights are lookin' like.
there's no free time,
but there's a whole lot of quality time.
i am grateful for this quantity of appreciable togetherness.
i'm lucky to have these ladies,
and we're lucky to be together.
it's all really happening,
and we're doing the best we can to be our best selves;
never quiet, never soft.....