green.

duders,
it was a holiday dinner,
and although i'm the only original member of the
woodsly goodsly Folk Life holiday dinner lineup,
the feeling was there,
and it was expert.
the cast may have changed,
but the motivation remains the same.
celebrate, participate, interact and overreact-
alongside hot firesides,
warm foodstuffs,
larger-than-your-life-sized tall tales that fit me just fine,
and root beers,
because tradition dictates that that's what's up.......
but,
before all of that,
i got a st. patrick's day present.
awwwwwwwww.
it turns out, irish or not,
i'm cultivating up on that lucky sh!t anyways.
check the pot-of-hearts-of-gold-type teleport:

uh-huh.......
shamrocks!
c'mon.
chlorophyllic oxygenating photosynthesizing synergy in the rooted
leafy spirit of plants is always a welcome addition here
at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
that's the truth.
so,
a site-specific seasonally-appropriate three-leafed emerald activation
to remind me of a good time with some good folks?
yup.
that is definitely invited to my windowsill.
obvi.
***********
appreciation is the key, kids.
i wouldn't do what i do if it wasn't welcomed with wide open arms,
and wider opened mouths,
when we all sit down to super-duper suppertimes together.
y'know?
mmmhmmmmm.
check out the big plate of boiled d.
teleport:

mcwordimus o'prime, neighbors.
black tea, specifically irish breakfast, brewed hella strong,
and added in place of milk to a super buttery, sorta sweet loaf
of soda bread?
that's what's good in that cakey slab on our plates.
corned-up and pan-fried seitan steaks,
with flour and cornmeal and spices an' that,
to take the place of beef in our bellies.
i mean,
boiled grey beef?
what am i?
mad at my tastebuds?
c'mon.
gross.
however,
it's the boiled d that takes it to eleven.
real talk.
white onion,
red potato,
purple-top turnips,
hard yellow rutabaga,
crinkle-cut carrots,
chopped stalks of celery,
brussels-style baby cabbage sprouts,
sixth-size wedges of intact actual adult cabbage.
all that vegetable hottness,
simmered in butterishness,
with non-alcoholic german beers deglazing the burned-on bits.
what?
yeah.
fake and german, i already know, it's fine...
...i'm still not irish.
anyway,
horseradish mustard, and g.p.o.p.,
and a punch of nootch, and a little bit of broth,
all added up and simmered together, for the win!
so mutha-'ucking expert.
***********
spanning time with people who want to be here?
that's what i need.
spending an evening eating and laughing?
that's what i want.
all of it, really happening, unfolding in new directions,
all new skins on the same old ceremony?
that's what i got.
and i looked like a leprechaun:

guerilla green and ghetto gold.
ugh.
stay ugly, stay dope,
because that's what's done.
holiday spirit and memory,

this is completely not what i expected,
but it is What Is.
it's the way the cabbage leaves curl, kids;
never quiet, never soft.....