Friday, May 11


i made cookies.
what the F* else would i be doing?
crying? that's not very likely to be much help.
cookies might, though.
i'm willing to wager that baking will be better than bawling.
i never know how to initially react to bad news, or NO news.
the fact that i won't get any more awful phone calls from my father is both, right?.
he asked the exact same questions every single time,
despite me pleading for the inclusion of ANY other conversational topics-
that's no joke.
he cared about what he cared about,
and that was actually limited to very specific interrogatives.
*did i make a lot of money yesterday?
*is it cold in the woodsly goodness?
not at the moment.
*how's my girlyfriend?
gone rogue, off-grid, incommunicado.
*have i spotted any old cars in any old farmhouses?
still haven't looked... not even once.
*am i walking that F*ING MUTT?
not yet, but i will be.
*what else, m'man?
there's nothing else
except maybe these cookies:

mood-altering with food.
temporary sugary-rushing hole-filling!!
cookies are quick,
and rewarding,
and there's usually a LOT of 'em, too.
at AMPERSAND TATTOO, i like to have some tasty vegan magic snacks
for all the clients and artists and friends who hang out with me.
seems hospitable, and appropriate, and appreciative.
so that's what i do.
these are pretty freakin' good.
here's the recipe,
because you should get something useful from this online journal
about life as an old man in the mountains-
preheat your oven to 375℉
in a big ol' bowl,
cream together:
1 stick (8 T) vegan butter;
1/2 tsp salt;
1 cup brown sugar;
2 tsp vanilla.
stir in:
1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce.
combine thoroughly, then add:
2 cups flour;
2 T agave;
1 cup rolled oats;
1/2 cup unsweetened unsulphured fine flake coconut;
1/2 cup wite chocolate chips;
1 tsp ea. bakey powpow and soda.
knead it, divide it into small balls,
and semi-flatten those chunky fatties onto two baking sheets.
i got 32 cookies out of this dough.
13 minutes will get you a whole bunch of light and tight and bright cookie hottness.
that's real.
the icing is 2/3 cup powdered sugar;
1/2 tsp vanilla;
2 T non-dairy milk;
and 1 tsp grated cacao butter.
is it good?
maaaaaaan, you already know it's expert.
so, as my father asks: what else?
rainbow nonpareil sprankles.
because being brightened up is tight, neighbors.
i'm just not sure what else i should be doing.
i packed boxes and boxes of things this morning.
i'm not back home, helping compartmentalize the remains of my dad's life.
i'm home home, at my house, miles and miles and miles away from that,
fitting segments and swaths of the last seven or eight months
into weather-proof plastic, to be collected at the convenience of their rightful owner.
it's mostly gifts i'd given, that hung unused, or sat folded on shelves;
toiletries that crowded the shower sill;
and winter's trappings that hold no currency in springtime.
i'm thinking of it as a proxy goodbye.
a stand-in ceremony for loss and love and grief and absence-
the symbolic sequestering of evidence and artifacts from better days.
damn, dudes.
did you know i was so sensitive?
well, now you do, i s'pose.
that didn't stop me from starting a cake, though.
i'm sayin'-
rules is rules,
and today is a good day for a cake.
maybe it's half berfday, half bye-bye,
but i'll bet it'll be 100% delicious, no matter what occasion i opt to dedicate it to.
i don't think i need a hug, per se-
like, i'm not so sure that physical human contact is what i need....
i don't really recall the last time i touched another person without gloves on-
so maybe there is something to the whole hug thing,
and i'm just presently too far removed to recognize what's missing there-
i DO know what's missing here, though.
and that's proactivity.
i'm not about to just up and start hugging people.
i'm a keeper, not a creeper.
(although, keeper may refer to goalie, in this case,
as i seem to be instrumentally preventative at getting it in)
what i mean is:
proactive participation is the best way for me to put my thoughts in order,
whilst also putting things in place, literally and figuratively.
i'm on my own up in this northern mountain vale.
i've got the dog, of course,
but he's really not what i'd call helpful in hurtful situations.
i'm not saying i've not got folks i could lean on for support if i had to;
i will say, however, that that's not my move, man...
i hate asking for anything.
i hate hate haaaaate it.
i'm very tidily boxing, and packaging these last few seasons,
and putting them away.
i'm doing that.
i was waiting for something.
some semblance of an mutually-accepted adios, maybe?
a kind of official goodbye?
sometimes, you just get what you get,
so there's no use getting upset;
never quiet, never soft.....

1 comment:

Beznarf27 said...

I feel I owe you for everything that you have given us here in this mountainous blog space. Sharing food has to be the most guttural way to connect at the most basic level and whether you feel the connections or not,they are there. Every time strangers attempt to tackle your recipes they are taking that connection and sharing the love around. Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes it sucks hard. Then it doesn't. Here is the life lesson for the day. Take some slobber time with your dog. It's amazingly therapeutic.