On Hot Dogs

The other day I bought lumber. I was tired and angry and hungry, but I told myself I could get through this to get the coveted Depot Dog. I don't fully understand the internet’s obsession with these things but a hot dog's a hot dog and I needed a hot dog. Unfortunately, they were all out of food, I guess their brief close for quarantine was enough to get everyone to come back when it reopened. So I left still hungry but with a shit load of lumber. 

The person helping me out was nice enough but insisted on inserting himself into my project. 

“What do you need?”

“I need lumber this wide and this long.”

“Whoa, what are you making?”

“A raised bed for a garden.”

“Whoa, let’s draw this out.”

I already had it all figured out. I already knew what I needed. I already asked for what I wanted, but he insisted on working it through. But honestly, he did help and he was nice. So I guess I can’t get too mad. 

At this point, I have a bunch of untreated birch sitting in our back room, smelling up the whole place. Soil should be coming soon. And in the next two or so weeks, I should be building up a garden for early spring. 

It’s very calming to me to have this planed out. At a time when I feel the chaotic pressure bearing down on me. My world stopped, my industry closed, my “living wage” disappeared. But this raised bed feels like a handhold in the storm. I’m being picked up by the heavy winds, but I can reach out and grab onto pocket of serenity and security that is freshly grown vegetables.

Tree Rings

I put this website together almost 10 years ago. It's really embarrassing to look back at those first blog posts. Well, to look back at all of it really. I've written hundreds of thousands of words since then. Probably more. My interests have changed. My style has evolved. My knowledge on my expertise has expanded exponentially. 

But that's the thing. If I didn't look back at my old posts, or this weird design, or the intro that might have the most complex sentence structure I've ever seen; then I wouldn't see myself growing as a writer. I'm not saying I'm great right now. I'm still growing and hopefully will never stop. But I'd say I've written a good sentence or two. 

My first reaction is to delete all this. Tear it all down and burn the splinters, but fuck it. What's the point in hiding my garbage. I'll keep them visible and on display. It's like a forest preserve, showing off the cross section of a Red Wood, lacquered and labeled with the date of the moon landing or when a conquistador plowed his way through the middle of this landmass. Maybe someone will read it and learn something from it. Or maybe all I can hope for is it wont actively hurt anyone.

test

It has been a while since I've used this. I should test it out before I do anything.

Dumplings for Davis

So often I see food used for evil. It's usually a fun evil, like gluttony or making dick jokes, but generally evil none the less. It is refreshing to see the opposite. And to have the opportunity to help out is absolutely amazing.

Last night I was given the chance to work a charity event to raise money for a kid who was recently diagnosed with Leukemia. It was hard work, and we were cramped in that little truck, but it was the most fun I've had in the kitchen. And it was truly something to behold, watching the donations pour in. This is something I need to do more. A relationship with food, I need to maintain. Food for good, not evil.

Davismckay.com

Hemlock Grove

I like supporting Netflix. It sounds funny to say that a huge company like that is the struggling little guy, but compared to HBO and the like, it's not a bad descriptor. So I've been trying to watch the "Netflix original series." I tried House of Cards, but got bothered by a few things and gave up. Lilyhammer was just kind of awful. But I am excited for the return of Arrested Development.

Right now I'm stuck on Hemlock Grove. This is not a good show by any definition, but something keeps me watching. Maybe it's the characters that appear and disappear without explanation. Maybe it's the extreme close-ups of anyone having a dialog. Maybe it's the occasional slip up with the Canadian accent. But something keeps me coming back. Perhaps I need to redefine what I mean by enjoyment.