cody / Texts
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(epic camping trip as of 7/24/11. did not plan on 107 degree weather and a new moon. the camera broke just as the walk began. my luck is awesome.)
There is no moon tonight. Our feet trace invisible patterns against the forest floor. One lands on a stick (oh god, is that a snake? you want to jump off it before it can bite you, then it cracks and you realize your mistake), another on a loose rock, and you fall, grabbing at your friend's sleeve to stay upright. It doesn't work, and you both tumble down. Your laughter cuts loudly into the silence.
No. Not silence- when has this place ever been silent? You've known it since childhood, and one of the things you love most is the constant noise. The buzz around your tent, branches that sweep against each other, the early-morning cackle of birds.
But still, it startles both of you and you fall quiet. You've never been this far off the trail before, especially not so late at night, even thought you know this place the way you know the constellations. You know it like Castor and Pollux, like the scars on the back of your hands.
You can't hear the creek (it hasn't rained since May, not a drop. the lake is almost gone) so you almost fall over the edge, into the brackish water at the bottom of the ravine. You can smell it from where you hang onto a tree, several feet above. Perhaps the dark enhances your other senses. Perhaps this was a mistake. You're blind out here, in the forest. This isn't where you should be.
So why do you feel so at home here? Your clothing catches on the trees, you lose your footing every few steps. But still, you feel as though you could stay here forever. It's just one of those things, the little biological pieces of human nature that have clung to you and every other person. This place is your safety blanket. Here, you are hidden.
You burst into a small clearing. The starlight dazzles you, and for a moment the stars burn holes in your eyes. You've never seen anything so bright in your life. But your friend slouches to the ground with a sigh, face upturned, eyes closed. At peace. You lay down next to her and begin to point out constellations you've only read about in books.
Look back towards the forest. You see a wall of darkness, and realize what you walked clumsily through to find this place. You think of how easily you could have ended up somewhere else, and smile.
This is your life. This is how you embrace it.
This is happiness.
Welcome to the 22nd day of veganosity. The challenge technically only lasted a week, but there's no reason to stop if you find it works for you.
Unfortunately, pictures are few and far between. Between vacations and funerals, the camera tended to disappear into the hands of various family members. A fairly detailed list of meals does exist- shoot me a message if you'd like the link.
In case it's difficult to tell, the top picture is a veganized turkey turnover thing (i substituted boca). The second is lunch at the dorms. The third is my magical backyard food production system.
have a recipe!
ingredients:
2 tbsp. butter substitute (i used earth balance)
8 oz. fresh mushrooms, shiitake or button
1 medium onion, diced
1 tsp. dried thyme
1 tsp. kosher salt
black pepper
3 tbsp. brandy
1/2 cup nondairy milk (i used almond)
1 tsp. whole grain mustard
2 1/2 cups meat substitute (if you can find one that closely resembles turkey, by all means go for it. i used boca crumbles)
2 9-oz. pastry sheets, thawed
put it together:
-preheat the oven to 425 F. line a baking sheet with parchment paper. set the pastry sheets out to finish thawing.
-melt the butter in a medium skillet over high heat. add in the mushrooms, onion, thyme, salt, and pepper to taste. if the meat substitute you’re using is frozen, add it at this point. if it’s cooked, no worries- but don’t add it yet. continue stirring until the mixture is more dry and the onion has softened.
-add the cognac carefully (if you’re using a gas stove, take the pan off the flame) and simmer until the mixture has become thicker and the cognac is more syrupy. add the cream and mustard, bring it to a boil until the cream begins to thicken. if your meat substitute is pre-cooked, add it in now. remove from the heat and let it cool slightly.
-lay out 1 pastry sheet on the baking sheet. using a sharp knife, cut it in half diagonally. divide the mixture in the skillet in fourths, and mound 1/4 of the recipe inside each half. fold the pastry over, pressing the edges with the tines of a fork. poke a few small holes in the top of each pastry so that the steam can vent.
-repeat with the other pastry sheet and remaining filling. you may need two baking sheets.
brush the turnovers with more nondairy milk and bake until golden-brown, around 25 minutes. word of warning: if these are undercooked, the filling will cause the pastry to become soggy when it cools.
enjoy!
(veganized from turkey turnovers in food network kitchens: making it easy)
What follows is the revision of a piece written about a year ago:
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I do like one of these lines- "Instead, perfect be Parameters with able way..."
Perhaps this cut-up could almost be taken as instructions.
whenever you come down to texas, there will be couches available.
is there a story attached to this map?
go forth and visit! let us know how it goes.
it's like a treasure hunt, but for inactive players!
blessed are the rental houses, for they are empty and ample in size.
congratulations! this is one of the best things i've seen in awhile.
On the lovely night of March 29, my application to Stanford University was rejected.
Surprise, surprise.
But you know what? That's okay.
Seriously. I'm enrolling for classes this weekend at the school I'll be attending. I'm going to love college, regardless of where I'm going. Besides, I was shooting pretty high with that ivy-league application, anyway.
I really did enjoy filling it out, though. Isn't that strange? To enjoy filling out mandatory paperwork. I guess we all have to make the best of our circumstances. So I remembered this pretired task and decided to send them a thank-you letter.
It says:
I know you probably don't read the responses you get to these letters, but I'll write this in hope that you decide to open it.
Even though my application was eventually rejected, I want to thank you for the time and effort you put into looking through countless stacks of hopeful resumes and essays. It really means a lot. Even if I couldn't make it into Stanford, even simply completing the application was informative. I learned a lot about myself while thinking up answers to the supplemental questions. I only wish more colleges could offer an equally unique insight into their prospective students' minds.
Thank you very much,
(comit)