a letter from the simpson desert

dear readers,

stranded in cubby house in desert. kind of liking it. made glasses, you might find them, blown over with the red dust. lost my breath...but there isn't any post where i am.

i love you,
eucaluptus.

the wet patch on my dress

It is that time again, for the second time, to emit poetic works on the 21st day of the month. Utterly delightful.


It is wet
It is a patch
It dosen't dry
in the hot hot sun
Where did you come from
Little wet patch?
Why are you wet?
Why won't you dry?

MONDAY FUNDAY #WALKABOUTS

SO.
after giving the cat a bath we were sitting outside to dry, smelling the beautiful spring air, when we got a whiff of something peculiar.
it was not the cat farting.
it was the smell of needing to leave. (though they could be confused as they are related in certain ways)

anyhow, it was clear that walkabout time had come.
leaving time is 4am tomorrow morning. we'll be back with thickly calloused feet and many stories to tell. but we don't know when we'll be back. it might be a quiet return, it might not. we'll see i guess.

Recipe of Love: for Polly

Got a date with something pretty?

Cook up this beautiful traditional dish. Your hearts will leap, your eyes will softly close, your tastebuds will embrace the wonderment.

Gebackenes Euter (Fried Cow's Udder)

Ingredients (4 servings)

500 g Cow's udder (a generous lb)

1 Egg, beaten

Plain breadcrumbs

100 g Butter (7 Tbsp)

Salt

Pepper

Instructions: In order to remove all traces of milk, put the udder into lukewarm water and let soak for 2 to 4 hours, permitting the water to cool off. Then cook the udder in a 2-percent to 3- percent salt water solution until tender. Remove from the cooking liquid and cut into 1/2-inch thick slices. Let the slices dry a bit. Season on both sides, dip into whisked egg, and then into breadcrumbs. Fry in butter, turning once, until golden brown on both sides. Serve with lettuce.

she thinks she's really hot but everyone just laughs at her behind her back

you know you work too hard when you're picking your nose (at the desk, as a break from typing) and you don't have time to get a tissue so you stick it under the table only to find there are no empty spots left and instead cause an avalanche of gold. and then by the time that happens, break time is over and you just keep working.
good times.

MONDAY FUNDAY #8 (b)

Apologies for the delay. our camera holder found out about his syphilis and has been celebrating his new found freedom instead of working hard for the loveless of the world. thankfully he found enough time to send us these, so that we may keep your little hearts pounding with joy and love.













anyhow, if you would be so kind as to look at past entries to enlighten the porpoise of this journey, because i have to go for a 200km bikeride and if i don't leave now i wont be back in time to let my father into the house after his return from the south of india.

MONDAY FUNDAY #8

Dear George,

On monday night we went for a stroll in town, putting up love for the loveless. I was very distraught to find your eyes torn to shreds, with only your nose attached to the pole with dirty bits of sticky tape. I rescued what I could, but I don't know if you can ever regenerate those swan like necks of yours.

All I can do to console myself is eat indian food. The man at the next table suggested a rose lassi, as it had helped him through his own difficult mourning. I settled for mango, as the pink reminded me of you too much. It was pretty nice actually.

Yours for eternity,
Jessica.