the sun will not come out.

duders,
it's still raining, and i love it.
there's fog filling in the in-between downpours,
and beads of water on every unsheltered surface.
it's wet, y'all.
really wet.
and despite the dreariness,
i'm pretty happy about all this moisture.
my garden is growing,
the leaves are green,
the flowers are blossoming;
and even without the sunshine to beam up those solar nutrients,
and saturate my skin with vitamins an' that, it's proper spring weather.
and spring is good for you.
***********
y'know what else is good for you?
dumplings.
yeah.
that's real neighbors.
my first foray into the packed pouch mealtime scene without my co-pilot
to help me navigate the choppy waters of filling and dough.
awwwwwwwwww.
the cucch was conspicuously absent,
but teddy, carlos, thatcher, and austin,
a.k.a. the activation society,
all showed up for a manly asian mini-diaperload s'chuan-bomb hangout session.
check the finished product-type teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
delicious, to eleven.
the dudes even helped pack 'em full, and fold 'em up.
yeah.
participation was the main ingredient.
we freaked off the internal treats this time a bit, too-
seitan, shallots, scallions, seseame seeds, celery, carrots, cabbage, onions,
ginger, garlic, dried mustard, chipotle hot sauce, and baby kale.
that's a lot of treats,
and believe me,
you could taste the magic being conjured in every bite.
flavor grenades, b!tches.
we made 'em.
we ate 'em.
it happened.
really.
***********
the new growth on the trees has hidden the mountains,
but they're still there, behind all that.
the grey clouds have blotted out the bright yellow sun,
but it's still there, above all that.
this old and busted F*ing face of mine has hidden all the hottness,
but i'm pretty sure i've got some, inside all that.
staying ugly, staying dope,
and remembering that hidden secrets are valuable treasures.
you can't see air, but you breathe it, ninjas;
never quiet, never soft.....

showers.

duders,
it's raining.
and that's pretty good news.
the drips and drops and pittering patters are making a steady drumbeat
on the tin rooftops of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
and honestly,
the sound is seriously soothing.
a hypnotic heartbeart, arrythmic as it is, thrubbing along,
like the whole house is actually alive.
and i'm living within it, like jonah, y'know?
a cedar-shake shingled leviathan enveloping me
in it's expansive (and dry) double-paned see-through belly.
on the ones-
sitting in my hammock, listening, under a blanket, reading pages upon pages
and drinking cup after cup of hot tea?
yeah.
it's kind of my new favorite thing.
and it's a helluva lot less lonely to live in an empty space when the net
i've nestled myself in is swaying gently like i'm being held inside cradling arms.
awwwwwwwww.
*
plus,
the rain is making all kinds of sh!t grow, neighbors.
and that's pretty good news, too.
check the blue tiny pretty little wildflowers teleport:

what are they?
i dunno.
but i like 'em, that's for sure.
there are carpets of them amongst the moss on the lee side of the house.
fresh little jauns from nature are what's up.
and they seem to like those variegated hostas quite a bit too.
flowers making friends?
uh-huh.
and check the uncoiling prehistoric-looking-sh!t-type teleport:

weird ferns.
i GOT they.
these little-stalked broadleaf jammers are really cool looking,
and they spread out quickly, happily covering lots of territory
with their red bottoms and their black-dotted fronds.
the grounds around the Fortress are flush with color and life these days.
the saturated soil and continuing rainfall are nourishing all my special
little chlorophyll-filled friends.
check the bullet-tipped super-hosta babies burgeoning from the shady soil:

yeah.
burly.
in a month, this place will be exploding with flowers.
time flies by,
and life keeps expanding, upwards and outwards.
that's what you can always rely on, kids-
nature wins.
***********
the problem with reading more than one book at a time?
playing favorites.
now,
for those of you who attended higher educational facilities,
and actually did the work assigned,
multiple reading projects are nothing new,
if not something pursued in a post-graduate capacity.
however,
worthy wisdom-wrought wordsmithing is a full-time, continuous,
never-ever-ending pursuit of more knowledge, better stories,
hidden information, understanding, and more of all that sort of thing.
sooo, no,
i don't HAVE to read three books at once.
i mean,
i'm a mutha-flippin' adult, and i can do whatever i feel like
with a minimum of accountability or answerability to anyone but my own self-
but even considering that,
i'm not just an adult, y'know?
i'm also a savage raging stormswept tsunami of warrior poetry,
overdoing everything, and ingesting more and more and more of all of it
and as it all really happens, all the way over the top at all times.
however,
some stories are better than others,
and even though i'll see each and every leaflet, novel, tome, pamphlet, periodical,
anthology, manuscript, scroll of whatever to it's bitter F*ing end,
well,
some of them go down a whole lot smoother than others.
which means that the good ones get eaten quicker than the boring ones.
my breakfast book is better than my bedroom book,
but my hammock book is even more expert by far.
i'm devouring chapters like chips,
and flitting from cover to cover like a bedhopping bookworm.
this is what happens when i'm left alone.
i retreat into volumes in silence.
oh, c'mon;
never quiet, never soft.....

Tart Tuesday.

three kinds of tarts?
of course.
i mean,
what am i?
an A*-hole?
...maybe.
but i'm an A*-hole for tarts!
duders,
i'm positive that i'm doing something right.
i mean it.
ultimate hottness,
in triplicate.
check the flaky fluted pastry-crust teleport:

raspberry-cream-cheeseyish filled raspberry topped raspberry glazed tarts?
you'd better F*ing believe it, b!tches!!
that's homemade shortcrust, too.
i don't skimp on the ingtensive interactive participation, y'know?
yea.
being fancy in magenta is where it's at.
tart tuesday was off to a great start.
but i kept it rolling from there.
because i had to, neighbors.
too much is what i'm aiming for,
and i don't intend to miss.
check the small wonder-type teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuup!
mini tartlets are so dope,
because you get a whole one to yourself every time.
vegan, expert, homemade vanilla pastry-creme-filled circles,
with a topnotch topcoat of slivered almonds,
toasted up with cinnamon,
and drizzled with maple-vanilla glaze,
all before a dirty dusting of confectioners sugar takes them to eleven?
huh?
...of course i'm serious.
and that was just the second helping.
i'm repping magic numbers in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress, y'all.
now,
when i was younger,
i used to get a special gourmet treat from a bakery back home called marjolaine.
that's real.
but,
it was about as vegan as i am handsome,
which is to say: not at all.
so after years and years and years that turned into decades,
it was time to stop dreaming it, and start being it.
my lamentation is done, mutha-lickas.
check the accurate reenactment teleport:

c'mon!
blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, strawberries,
all on top of a luscious custard,
sumptuously surrounded by a toasted nut-crust.
almonds, pecans, and coconut, for a free-standing salute to sexy foodstuffs.
yes indeed, my ninjas.
i doo-doo that dream come true sh!t.
i'll stay ugly, but these gems will stay dope...
...until they're completely devoured, anyway.
***********
three kinds of tarts.
because just making two kinds is for weak-sauce waterbabies.
i'm all about that big burly baking business.
i'm innovating in my kitchen,
and making sure to do it with the will of a worthy warrior poet.
i'm continuing, y'all.
more and more and more.
every single day,
there's something.
i mean,
what the F* else would there be?
real life unfolds;
never quiet, never soft.....

nice box.

duders,
my friends really take good care of me.
i got a box of treats and it had love on and in it!
that's real.
check the teleport:

yuuuuuuuuup.
kelly hooked it up with elite goodies for my face!
cookies are a man's best hope for activation, sometimes:

this is one of those times.
coconut, cranberries, almonds, and cinnamon?
c'mon, neighbors.
they're like magic granola drops from the hearth and heart of my homegirls.
i'm pretty lucky, y'know?
my days are chock full of expert individuals who really give a sh!t.
and i totally sh!t it right back.
pooping back and forth is how we show our affection.
))<>((
that's what's up.
***********
i span a lot of time in public places holding private conversations.
it's true.
me and my peoples mostly meet in areas where there are witnesses,
and we conduct our confidences under the interested eyes and respectful distances
of whomever and wherever we happen to be activated in the general vicinity of.
yeah.
what i mean is-
when i'm home, i'm home alone.
like a spy meet-up, or a movie ransom trade,
it's always wherever there's less likelihood of double-crossing.
haha.
i'm serious.
i'm pretty sure i can be trusted not to do anything unseemly,
but it seems that nobody is taking any chances.
i'm surrounded by important people,
but i sleep next to empty spaces.
awwwwww.
*
today is the day.
tarts and plants and stumps and sunshine.
that's the way it is;
never quiet, never soft.....

grilling.

yellow squash is an A*-hole.
ha.
i'm serious.
i don't know what it is about those thin-skinned mush tubes,
but they really bum me out.
it's like biting a wet banana made out of bland.
awwwww. ...gross.
luckily,
'grilled' is it's own flavor, and can fix almost anything.
so,
when i've got charcoal glowing,
and the woodsly goodsmoke is rising from the outdoor firebox?
yeah, sure, throw a squash or two right on that cast iron grill-top.
i mean, why the F* not, y'know?
it'll mostly just taste like wet burnt, once the searing and the charring
have their way with those floppy flaps of cowardly summer sponginess.
they're not my favorites at all, neighbors,
but i can deal with it.
some people like that sort of thing, after all....
maybe i'm growing as a person, and developing an ability to cope with
the minor inconveniences and small disappointments of everyday life.
then again,
i could've just skipped them and been happier.
but that's not the wrench, kids.
you should really know better by now.
*
duders,
i haven't had a cookout in almost two years!
dang, that's for realsies.
that's antithetical to a hot fire disciple of berserker barbarism.
i activated the remedy yesterday, and it was dooooooooooooope.
check the plateful of fat-kid flavor-type teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuup!
flame-top makeshift-aluminum bag-steamed broccolini,
pineapple discs,
slappy crap-steaks of squash,
onions and peppers,
flame-kissed italian bread,
and corn.
expert?
obviously.
i guess i'm just psyched to survive in style.
i mean,
we've all gotta eat,
but i wanna take that to eleven,
all the mutha-flippin' time, y'heard?
like,
rapsberry-lime rickeys, with mint?

by the pitcherful, folks!!
frozen raspberries ARE the ice cubes.
(and i added a couple genuine cubes too, to make it extra cold)
bruised mint tossed with key lime slices, in sugared lime juice?
and then stirred with magenta fruit and squeezed oranges?
affirmative.
the club soda just makes it an effervescent miracle on my tongue!
on the ones, y'all-
i just want everything to be rad, all the time,
and i'm doo-dooing what i can to make it happen.
***********
i want to eat the whole world.
that's a thing.
all teeth and lips and biting and tearing.
i want to burn clean,
sh!tting out whatever's left-
...and i want there to be nothing left;
never quiet, never soft.....

one-upperism

duders,
i actually just can't help myself.
for real.
it turns out, after careful observation of my actions,
i am kind of a showboat, and a bit of a pr!ck.
haha.
it's a true story i'm telling right here, neighbors.
i mean, sure,
i could just settle.
y'know, like be willing to accept good enough instead of better than ever...
except that i'm a freestyle do-it-all-the-way-live get-fresh worthy warrior poet
of really real life and active participation;
taking it to eleven and getting expert means rising up above
and getting over the tippy-top of the everyday plateaus
that regular, boring, average 1-10-scale 9-5ers believe in.
yuuuuuuuuuuuup.
brutal berserker barbarian battle-beastly barnstorming bards have to go farther
and take it further and make sure it's fresh(er)
and loud(er), and that the styles are all even harder than all that has gone on before.
yikes!
that's real talk from the woodsly goodness, kids-
too much is the right amount,
and the object, as always, is MORE.
and that sort of thing as an ideology prohibits the administering of lukewarm lazy
sub-hottness in the form of mincey weak-sauce nancy-pants waterbabyism.
that said,
i made some magic happen in my kitchen yesterday that should seriously
make you molto jealous.
in fact, that's sort of the point.
with a minimum of preparation and a modicum of masterful activation,
cinco celebration jauns got poppin' at the Folk life & Liberty Fortress!
have i ever mentioned that i think it's more than just okay to be sober all the time?
because if i haven't,
let me say it now-
it's okay NOT to drink.
i mean,
if ever i was gonna be a boku big drinkies-type duder,
it would've been the last year of unimaginably ugly truths
and interminably long and lonely nights.
but instead,
i just kind of endured every grotesque minute in it's pure uncut form.
awwwwwwwwwww, man.
i'm sure that i'm a better bitter man for my trouble?
romantic iocane is hard to build immunity to, but i'm trying.
however,
that doesn't mean i don't want to get rad on some flavorful treats,
sans the muddying effects of generic good-time/bad-time inebriation.
huh?
yeah.
lots of words are happening.
sorry. ...kinda.
here,
just check the virgin teleport:

yeah!
c'mon, y'all.
a no-jito mojito fizzy flavorized glassful of awesome.
i bruised my mint, i used three kinds of lime juices,
including the fresh-squeezed drips of those little baby key drops,
and a slice of mini-madarine to make it even more elite.
there's simple sugars at work in there,
and a sprig of spearmint to take it up a notch in garish garnish.
like i said, kids-
i'm grandstanding to an absent audience,
and taking sips of sweet wizardly green wetness for my face!
word up.
*
oh, yeah...
and then i brought an odin-sized batch of stormswept savage gypsy dinnertime
thunder and lightning down on my kitchen.
check the green white red and brown (mexico-type) teleport:

F*ing right, my ninjas.
so,
did i cook grits up and let them set in a shallow circle?
i sure did.
did i pan-fry the finished product into a crisp corn bottom-b!tch base for my beans?
don't be dumb- you can clearly see that.
and speaking of frijoles y habichuelas-
red and black beans, with three kinds of smoky sh!t in 'em?
chipotle ho' sauced-smoked sweet paprika powedered-apple-smoked sea salted!
expert!
it was so so SO good.
and with peppers, stewed tomatoes, chiles, onions, garlic,
toma-flippin'-tillos, cilantro, and a blast nootch all combined together
to make a little ranchero-style vegetable stew?
(it goes along with the beans, to activate the nutrients, y'heard?)
come ON!!
oooh, are those white corn tortillas with beans and faux-chee',
broiled to a crispy crunchy roasted toasty outside shell, with gooey goodness inside?
yep.
they certainly are.
and that's homestyle salsa fresca blopped on top of 'em.
what do you guys know about cilantro and green peppers and key limes as garnish?
you know you like it.
the whole idea was to do it more beautifully than you.
obviously.
cinco de mayo was a success.
if you measure success in good meals and decent conversation and non-alcoholic drinks.
lucky for me,
that's exactly how i measure success.
*
today is the day, kids.
my off-time is looming large in front of me,
just out of reach, but drawing nearer.
one more long day,
and it's baking and making and giving and taking until thursday.
i'm on my way,
roads to nowhere, highways to hell, and mean streets are what's up;
never quiet, never soft.....

cinco.

amigos,
it's the battle of puebla day!
yuuuuuuuup.
cinco de mayo.
also,
it's the anniversary of DADDY'S HOUSE!
that's a thing.
a very seriously important thing.
...and if you don't know, you'd really better ask somebody.
now if only i had a sombrero, neighbors,
then i could fully activate this whole entire day with happiness.
it's impossible not to be psyched whilst wearing a sombrero.
i think that's actually a fact.
anyway,
here at la casa de papa,
which is to say, the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
we're preparing for a late afternoon, post-work cinco-style celebration.
uh-huh.
a fiesta of fresh loud hardness,
con fuego caliente, an' that.
i'm excited to cook up some homemade tortillas and rice and beans and sh!t,
and get rad on some gringo loco gastronomy without
any of the weak sauce of alcochol-besotted diaperbabyism of traditional
blanco A*-hole 'rona and 'rita jauns.
yuck, y'all, no me gusta.
it is in fact totally and absolutely okay not to drink,
but only if you like being by yourself all the time.
(spoiler alert: i'm starting to)
hermits and habichuelas and frijoles and hard-flippin' styles for miles.
that's what makes this sunday another 'nother exercise in really real life.
plus,
i'm listening to keaton henson, and i've got the volume up to eleven.
that way,
i can't hear anything besides the brutality of a sodden and downtrodden
bedridden bedraggled and brokenhearted batch of ballads.
sappy soundtrack attacks are the super sonic saturation that these walls needed.
i'm inoculating the insulation with intense intention, kids.
echoes of this kind of severe adult focus and communication will reverberate
for decades through the rough timbers and slanted ceilings.
i think that's a good thing, too.
if cloud seeding makes it rain on parades,
the sound seeding makes it rain on these ho's.
i'm all about that.
*
sherlock holmes.
that's my guy.
you ninjas all already know i'm SO all about that duder.
but i think my aficionado status is getting elevated up a notch today.
for realsies,
check the consulting detective teleport:

yeah.
i'm actually thrilled.
who's gettin' clues and eliminating impossibilities?
mmm-hmmmm.
it IS me.
i only ever care about getting expert,
and about overdoing it every single time.
i'm thinking i need a kickass magnifying glass now, too.
after all,
it would look great with a deerstalker sombrero, right?
***********
cinco, son.
a fresh five, like a backhanded b!tchslap across the mouth.
how's it going today?
like montezuma's revenge, friends.
it's a weirdly sh!tty and uncomfortable schedule,
and it's in a big hurry to blow on out of the lossest butthole ever.
...dang.
i thought today was supposed to be facil like sunday morning.
then again, that really only lasts until lunchtime;
never quiet, never soft.....

some kind of jedi?

May The Fourth be with you!
it's star wars day, y'all.
yeah.
red lightsabers are popping out all over the place up here.
that's innuendo, neighbors.
c'mon.
it's a busy busy busy day here in the woodsly goodness.
and it's only 7:30 a.m.
dang.
and yesterday was even flippin' worse.
or way mutha-flippin' better,
depending on how pressed for time and pressured by obligations
you actually like to be in a twenty four hour period...
oh, yeah,
and we were shorthanded by a factor of every single other artist at the studio!
one solo han solo getting snarky like a scruffy-looking pirate was all there was.
(expert)
i do actually have a bad feeling about this.
and also,
this is what i woke up to this morning:

yeah.
i'm for serious.
olive the dog is back in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
and i thought she smelled bad on the outside...
uh-huh.
just for the week,
and only because i'm a truckload of a lot nicer than i used to be.
i got a call at work that the scheduled dogsitter was sh!tting the bed
and that angsty dog attacks were about to go from phantom menace
to full-blown revenge of the sith, y'feel me?
....so i worked it out, from the discomfort of my tattoo chair.
duders,
what would a jedi have done?
right.
so i've got my hairy sidekick,
who i swooped in and saved from certain sarlaac suckhole sh!ttiness,
and i'm reppin' millenium falcon-kessel run records in low low parsecs, son.
i'm moving fast and i'm searching my feelings, F*ers-
so let me just say, kids-
i'm one angry emotion away from lightning-striking finger-blasting,
because i dooku that freaky sh!t.
oh, stop it.
today is the day, y'all.
balance to the force is imminent,
because i'm huckin' torpedoes in holes no bigger than womprats.
real talk.
satisfaction, companionship, optimism-
a warrior poet craves not these things;
never quiet, never soft.....

mayflowering.

duders,
april was cold and arid.
that's so dumb.
i mean,
there were supposed to be plenty of showers, y'know?
they make up rhymes about that sort of thing.
just sayin'.
however,
even it the absence of environmental downpours,
and a relative humidity comparable to a mummy's butthole,
i have a watering can and a will to recreate nature's winning ways.
i dripped and i drizzled and i doused this whole place
with the necessary wetness for all my homestead houseplants.
i think it's working, too, neighbors.
mayflowers, without buckle-shoed suckas ruining it?
expert.
check the seasonal activation teleport:

rho-rho-do-dendron!
i like it when life looks good for a minute.
word up.
may is when it really gets poppin', y'all.
the leaves are unfolding like inverted origami,
and the bees and birds are out in force,
doing the sorts of things that make more of themselves.
real life is all really happening,
inside and outside and everywhere else.
**********
and wouldn't you know it?
it's back to the grind again, guys.
already.
ugh.
that's what thursdays signify.
the jump-off for five consecutive sh!tty days of doo-doo buttery doings.
i guess me and my hammock are gonna miss each other this afternoon.
yeah.
i mean,
what's more relaxing than hanging around on a suspended net,
reading epic rollicking nerd fantasy books,
in the superheated supersized sunroom of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress?
ummmm....
maybe sitting in the hammock with a real-life lady and snuggling harder than ever?
awwwwwwwwwww, man.
that IS better.
and it would be so much better to share the experience of lounging
in the luxury of a super-sexy solarium getting that vitamin D assimilation-
but based on availability and likelihood,
 novels and music and sunbeams
are far better in that that sort of sappy sad solo sh!t is actually happening.
yeah.
i'll take it, kids.
i've got ingredients for a worth-a-damn way of life,
and i'm combining them all in one big old house.
whatever's missing will be replaced with a comparable vegan version.
what's the equivalent of an involved partner?
applesauce and tapioca and soybeans?
uh-oh.
some things just aren't as good in the substitute form;
never quiet, never soft.....

MAYDAY MAYDAY!

duders,
it's MAY DAY.
and that's dope.
you know-
beltaine, the big action hard-style pounding party?
yeah.
like i just said- dope.
so never mind the s.o.s. sh!t, neighbors,
stay away from calling out distress an' that,
the only very emergency situation over here?
first responding to how expert we're gonna get.
uh-huh.
...---...
i made some treats.
i mean,
of course i did.
you don't think i'm rolling into may like a little b!tchbag do you?
no way, my ninjas.
check the creme pie teleport:

toasted coconut on top, in the middle, in the crust, everywhere.
it's chocolate mousse inside, and vanilla-snap-cookies underneath.
yep.
i doo-doo that dark brown baller-A* doodie-twankle jauns, y'all.
and i do it exceptionally well.
i had to alter my creative process a little bitty bit,
since some of my food processor-style equipment isn't here,
and hasn't yet been replaced.
it's cool, kids.
i adapt to hostilities and transform them into festivities.
i'm kind of like that.
so,
i used less-than-ideal-tools,
and made supremely elite vegan hottness for my refrigerator.
worst cases are where im at my best, brothers.
and you can't bring me down on MAY DAY!
but only because i'm already headed there,
in a funneling flume into a swirling drain at the bottom
of a big ol' bowl of sh!t-salad.
awwwwwwwwwww.
that may be true,
but then again,
it may not.
i've got my eyes open and my head up,
and my mouth full of pie,
so i'm not exactly sweating it either way, y'heard?
MAY DAY is for worthy warrior poets to celebrate being alive.
no matter with whom, or even where,
a better fate than death, weak sauce, or diaperbabyism awaits us anyplace.
believe it.
...---...
and then, friends, i got even busier.
uh-huh.
and i made an expert cheesecake from the future, mutha-F*ers!
check the sexy brown-and-beige-and-tan teleport:

snickers-type jauns, yo.
wordimus prime.
crushed roasted peanuts and mini-bitty-baby chocolate chips,
over newly invented freestyle vegan caramel, (for serious)
over double thick fluffy un-cheeseyish cake,
on top of a perfectly crumbly crust.
do you need to get fresh on some heroic kitchen inventiveness?
i GOT they.
we're happy to be living a really-real worthy Folk Life.
active participation in all things.
that's all that really matters.
that's all that really happens.
that's sort of the whole point.
...---...
MAY DAY.
today is the day.
i'm repping my homegirl flora, goddess of flowers,
and putting bright blossoms in my hair.
or what's left of it, at any rate.
i've got the day off,
i've got ideas for even more treats,
and i've got the whole of the woodsly goodness to explore and enjoy.
i am grateful for the time i have been given.
and i'll play to my weaknesses, today,
because i think they may be the same as my greatest strengths.
it's a greatest hits and misses kind of a thing,
and it's poppin' off as i write.
MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY;
never quiet, never soft...---...

raBBitraBBit.

i know it, my ninjas-
rabbit rabbit activation is in order,
and i said the sh!t out of that doubled-down magic mutha-F*ing word!
real talk.
i spit hot fire in the form of an overenunciated bunny, twice.
and i'd better be having some good flippin' luck,
or it's back to snipping feet off of 'em,
instead of just conjuring cultivated coincidences out loud.
that's no joke, neighbors.
i'm not necessarily above severing the sinew of a red right ankle.
i'd prefer to speak the agreed upon ignition phrase,
and bask in the great glowing good fortune of a happy page of calendar jauns.
failing that, though,
it may be time to hurt them.
all the bunny heads, y'know?
sleight turn of phrase there, but it's good, if you get it.
*
anyway,
it's the first of the month.
i said the spell, and refreshed the wards around the woodsly goodness
with mortar in the form of mantra.
we're ready for what's next.
in fact,
we're just ready,
and willing,
and occasionally able to interact like adults without tourettes.
of course, as always, i say we,
but i really just mean me.
(if you're faking it, you don't actually have it...thanks, bob)
today is the day,
the big debut of the merry merry month of may.
and yes, you totally may.
excited?
...you should be.
also,
you should check the teleport:

what's even flippin' better than a jar of sprankles?
yuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
a jar of mouse mummy!
expert.
maybe someday i'll have a brutal barbarian brace of coneys,
petrified and pendulous,
that i can channel all the skaldic spirits and memories of good fortune
into the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress with.
but until then,
my sleepy little mouse will have to stand in as official understudy
to the overlapping concentric circles of bold fate and weak sauce.
if you see a pair of preserved hares,
send 'em my way.
there's always room for the skin and bones of another dead body
in the empty rooms and hollow halls i dwell on things in...
*********** 
i don't have a may pole.
(that's what she said?)
i do have a fire pit.
looks like a purification pyre is gonna have to do the trick.
may is for mushrooms,
may is for flowers,
may is for permission.
and it has been granted;
never quiet, never soft.....