The willing suspension of disbelief

The stars are clear out here. A train runs through the cen­tre a few times a day, blar­ing a horn as a warn­ing to peo­ple who may be going from build­ing to build­ing by cross­ing the tracks. It’s a tiny vil­lage in a snow­globe, only the snow has­n’t come.

I haven’t been around this many peo­ple in years. I’ve long won­dered what it’d be like to live this life one more time. To have rit­u­als and the­atre plans and reg­u­lar friends. None of this is real, of course, but I don’t mind pre­tend­ing if only for a lit­tle while.

girl in dorm room

Girlcave. Fucking awe­some.



Eco House


in sunlight



For gro­ceries we dri­ve to a farmer’s mar­ket in a near­by town. It’s an impor­tant lit­tle rit­u­al, to sup­port local­ly grown pro­duce, to get meat that isn’t genet­i­cal­ly mod­i­fied and fruit that has­n’t been picked before it’s ripe so it can be shipped thou­sands of miles to a gro­cery store. This is eat­ing well in such a dif­fer­ent way than I’m used to, and every day it’s a lit­tle dif­fer­ent. The ven­dors come and go, and farm­ers, who make their own beef pat­ties and sausages, will change the spices used in their recipes.

apple pie apple

Candied apple sam­ples.


Applebutterapplebutterapplebutter. The man told us the sto­ry of how he grabbed the apples as they fell on the lawn, and how he did­n’t hold back on the cin­na­mon and sug­ar in the recipe. I eat this every sin­gle day.

games room






house for sale


pork chop

Pan seared, bone-in pork loin chop, paired with dark cher­ry sage but­ter, served with whipped pota­toes and sea­son­al veg­eta­bles. Cooked just right with a bit of pink in the mid­dle.

Uncle Sam's Loan Office

Merica, fuck yeah.

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