...so my kids are home again, all jiggety-jig an' that-
and i'm back in the woodsly goodness with nobody to keep me company
except my berserker alligator-shark-bullet-headed battle beast;
and that's about as much fun as alligator shark wrasslin'.
that means that i'm doing all my dirt all by my lonely,.
and that's no way to get dirty, dogs.
not even when i'm out walking, and singin' and dancin' in the rain.
i've got crabtree with me,
and a wet dog is an even dirtier dog than a dry-dirt dog.
that's no joke.
i s'pose that's the way it has to be, right?
if you can't appreciate the sweet without the bitter,
then i'm just making sure i can spot the difference from a million miles away.
the sweetness of family togetherness has been replaced with the bitter bile
of a big bad week of weak sauce sh!t salad on the schedule.
there's tats on tats on tats, but they're mostly a miscarriage of artistry,
with a few glimmering glimpses of good ideas peeking through and poppin' up
every fifth or sixth scheduled appointment.
those fattie-boombatie tatt-stackin' movie checks are more necessary than ever,
but the whole idea of earning them is what is draining the batteries on your boy.
the kitchen continues to be my safest haven,
and my close-to-heaven demesne while i deal with the dual doo-doo butters
of an empty nest, and a full docket of moms and dudes at work.
these are absolutely NOT problems.
that doesn't mean that i have to be happy about the inconvenience and the irritation
not to mention the lonely halls of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
i'm still making the best of it all.
i mean, what else is there to be done?
crumbling and collapsing under a few irksome tasks?
here's the thing:
you're either gittin' it, or you're gettin' got.
rules is rules.
and i'm not about to get got, not one more time.
even when it's early shirley on the last morning of our time together,
and there's still dog-walking and car packing, and readiness to get in between,
you'd better believe i still made time to activate some hew hottness for breakfast.
on the ones, neighbors,
we've got to eat, and we've got to say farewell,
and we've got to make sure it's worthy of the effort.
i'm on some fruity galette jauns,
and i think i did our bye-bye breakfast some justice.
SWEET PEAS GROW WILD IN MY GARDEN, GUYS!!!
(those are the flowers, and they are dreamy)
i think that the pastry crust recipe has been listed so many times,
i'm just gonna go on ahead and skip it.
don't be sad.
...if you're the type to desperately need to know it,
because you urgently need to make this?
i've got a solution.
just go back a few posts, and peep the deets, duder.
you might see something you want to make even MORE.
a tasty galette is great because it is it's own pan.
and that makes everything a whole lot easier.
the interior is so simple, i almost hestate to tell you about it.
it's one cored large apple, sliced thin, and spread out in a fresh fan pattern,
with half a cup of blueberries, tossed in agave and vanilla,
dropped down before turning the edges of the pastry over to hold it all in.
there're cinnamon sprankles, and raw sugar crystals on top,
plus a kyooot flower cut-out just to keep it expert for those kids.
i'm telling you- making the little details matters a LOT.
they may take it for granted that there dad is on some other-other exxtra-A* sh!t,
but i'll wager they notice the bargain basement budget b!tchsap that happens
when other folks make a treat withOUT all the upgrades.
real real talk.
you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.
so, y'gotta bake that sweet sweet pastry pocket at 400℉ for 20-25 minutes,
y'might wanna let it cool for a few,
before you fire whole hunks of it into your headhole.
i've got a big day today,
just like every day.
that's because even the most average and ordinary tattoos,
and even the simplest treats, all require plenty of attention.
i've got allllll of that happening.
and i've got this terrible terrier to take care of too.
it makes for a full day, and a long night,
and somewhere in between,
i've got layouts, designs, and signs to plan and plot.....
there's only half as much time as i need,
and only half that is accessible.
sleep is a luxury for the unambitious and lazy.
y'all go right on ahead staying eyes-shut and horizontal,
that's all you.
i'm on a steady trajectory towards stratospheric detonation,
like a mutha-effing firework.
i may self-destruct, and/or immolate,
but it's going to be GLORIOUS.
...and i can live with that;
never quiet, never soft.....