The thing about pie crust is that you have to keep the butter cold as you work the dough.  Cold butter creates the flakes and pockets in crust that are so incredibly delicious.  That means that you must be prepared--by lining up your ingredients and understanding the steps ahead of time, you must be patient enough to pop the dough into the freezer if the butter starts to melt under the warmth of your hands as you work the dough, and you must be able to work as quickly as is necessary when you roll out the final circle of crust.  That’s my third maxim: be able to work quickly as needed.  It takes a few practice pie crusts before you can  make a really good one, but I’m getting there.  My other hobby requires a set of skills that need to be practiced too.



After Scott and I enjoyed watching the sky on the beach together, I planted  lavender in my plot at the community gardens.  I had a moment that night, as I watched the fire consume the twelve used burlap potato sacks (creating ash for my compost), that was as clear and pure as any I’ve ever experienced.  The sky was devoid of clouds and smog, so the stars were piercing through the light pollution, and the moon hung in a lowering crescent.  The wind swept through the gardens, bringing with it scents of earth and green plants and whiffs of manure.  A focused life has its pleasures.


Here’s my list for Scott- Beach pass Gag; biodegradable Hemp rope Shovel Hammer Axe, sharpened 12 used burlap potato sacks


Before I tell you about my third maxim (which is: act quickly as needed), let’s talk about affect.  Strict neutrality of the face ends up looking hangdog and depressed, which alerts other people to your presence. That means, strategically speaking, to fly under a person’s radar, you’ve got to make a wee bit of eye contact and you’ve got to crinkle your eyes a bit.  That makes you look just pleasant enough to be unremarkable.  Also, keeping perfectly still is a bit of a tip off.  It’s better to have just the slightest body tic; twirling of the hair, for example, or a very small tap of the toe. Just a little something to stay invisible.


A human being needs food, water, and shelter in order to survive.  I’m sheltered on the 22nd floor of an abandoned office building.  No rent means no job, which leaves me free to cook, garden, and other-hobby away.  Food, laundry, and water take some planning.  Since I love to cook and the office building doesn’t function well as a kitchen, that takes even more planning.  That’s where my hobby comes in.


My wardrobe: white tank tops (3) denim pants (3) leather jacket black socks (3 pairs) black running shoes (2 pairs)


The second maxim of my hobby is “Be patient.”  I learned this one, as I have with all of my wicked little hobby’s maxims, in cooking class.  Don’t flip the meat too often. Don’t open the oven to check on the bread.  Let your cookies cool on a wire rack before you eat them.  Bring the water to a full boil before you add noodles.  In other words, trust the process but stay attentive.  There’s always a correct moment for action; let it come. Don’t force it.