A dog got a bone.
A turkey gets cooked without me touching it.
A college football game end zone seat with my butt in it.
A visit to the Fort during another stunning Florida sunset.
Slow week, huh? Not really trying to work or start anything new, huh? Well, do I have the best time-wasting post for you!😀
Revisiting my last successful and hilarious account of actual Inkpad Notepad app entries, I’m plucking out the most outrageous, spanning last summer to early 2014. Just like last time, I offer poems, quotes, and dialogue with just enough explanation to validate my insanity!
You guys love these raw, visceral displays of vulnerability…
You get the sense I spend most my awake hours perpetually screaming in anger, spewing flames, like that mine shaft in Pennsylvania. What’s the name of that place again? Gotta be somewhere in my notes…
Ian stayed up from 10pm to 11am to smoke a turkey. Our turkey. Our planned post-Thanksgiving, post-apocalyptic shopping day, turkey. I did two Thanksgivings, and I made eggplant lasagna for one, a pumpkin-apple pie for another. But I never quite get enough of my own turkey during these events. We dialogued and came to terms with creating a meal Monday morning.
So he stayed up and did the outdoor labor. I, serving the auxiliary unit, took the after effects and made magic with them. From the leftover cabernet sauvignon, mangoes, strawberries, oranges, lemons, apples, cantaloupes and kiwis he used for the smoker, I created a concentrated bath for a sangria, ready to serve in 24 hours. From the drippings and offal, I made gravy good enough to eat on its own; started it like a roux, then slowly added more and more drippings ’til it was near fluid, then broke up the fried neckbone, poached liver, heart and gizzards and added for texture.
I broke down the bird to dark meat and white meat, having that one moment everyone else has when de-boning meat…considering how precise one would have to be if one had to take a human apart. Don’t act like you didn’t think that for, like, a millisecond!
Like any other granola I’ve met in Gulfport, Ian grows all kinds of food in his yard, and I got to take the sweet potatoes he’d pick a week ago and use those to make a sweet potato mash, peeled and boiled first, then helped along with 3/4 stick of buttery substance, ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, and brown sugar.
I wish I could be sick of it, but dangit, I love food. Nice to know someone who’s just as serious and dedicated to big meal design as me!
With all the gorging I’ve done since last Tuesday, I’ve only managed to pack on 4 extra pounds. I’m about to get my Fat Girl Status Card revoked! Well, there is the whole ‘nother pot of drippings I could make into gravy. Mmmm, gravy. Mmmmm, biscuits. Biscuits! I haven’t made biscuits yet! Cue the celebration music:
This dilapidated spine brought to you by the letter C.
I can’t even sit straight, my muscles have atrophied into this position!
But I did it, I pushed through. Had some clean ups, realized I repeated myself in places, but, my dear fellow NaNo-ites, I am at 41,250 on my word count!! Anyone using Scrivener knows the joy of seeing that Project Targets bar shift from yellow to green.
The kicker is knowing Thanksgiving is coming around, and we’re all gonna be in Eff-NaNo Mode, especially those of you set to slave in the kitchen.
I think I can allow myself the rest of the evening off. Back on it manana! Lemme leave you on this magical scene from Key & Peele, the physical inspiration for Momma’s Boy [3:06]:
You should feel this breeze coming in from the lake through my balcony door. Magnificent. Magical. Mesmerizing. Memphisto…no wait. Wrong M.
It fills my studio with a crisp, cool air, good for the lungs, the sinuses, good to give me goose bumps so I can stay energized. Yup, Blitzkrieg still on, with a NaNoWriMo session this morning as a slight interlude. Both works are progressing wonderfully. A little fatigued, but in a way one feels fatigued after a great workout. Pumped, energetic, slightly sweaty, needing to take a piss.
This year I have the great fortune of being missed while stashed away in the Treehouse. I’ve had guests over, I’ve had people feed me, well-wishers via text, and a few Tweets of love. For that, I am grateful. The last two years were quiet and solitary, what I absolutely wanted. This year, plugging away at the final stretch of the manuscript, mere weeks away from book launch, hanging out with you cool catz on this new bloggy blog, and I’m getting invites to perform, to play and to party, invites I can’t fulfill UNTIL THE BLITZKRIEG IS OVER. I’m treating those invites as rewards. Von, Master of Self-Discipline.
Already fielding Thanksgiving plans. I try to cook at one and hang out at the others. Not gonna stretch myself thin this year, but I am looking forward to cooking for more than myself and Bobby T. I do miss house parties. How’s it go? ‘I hate people, but I love gatherings!’ No, really. I do enjoy cooking, and for lots of people. It’s my form of reciprocity; I have so many people in my life and inner circle I appreciate, I look forward to spending time with them, and I’m grateful they check on me even when I say, leave me alone!
So check this out…I was going through my winter clothes bag, only to discover everything I had was a size extra large or higher. Former Fat Girl Problems, amirite? I found my favorite hoodie I used to rock all over campus, and hated the thought of Goodwilling it, when I was struck with a brilliant idea. I sent a text to The Sprite: I am commissioning you to make a pillow. Her response: K
I had a couple of small pillows doing nothing in my closet, so I brought the hoodie and the pillows to her last week. Today at her house, she presented the completed work, noting it was super easy and she watched Futurama while making it. I like the thought of Bender encouraging her creativity forward.
But look at this awesomeness in the gallery! That pillow would’ve cost probably $40 at the bookstore. And it really is gorgeous; it doesn’t look like it ever was a pullover. But that’s Marie for ya; magic at the sewing machine. I told her, you need to Pin Dat Shit!!
So while you enjoy your weekend, I will do the same whilst my fingers go clackity clack clack and my brain oozes amazing plots and twists. If you’re still rockin’ out on NaNo, kudos to you homeskillet!
Working sans music tonight. It’s gettin’ REAL.
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