I imagine after all that, you must be feeling a bit peckish. Time for those promised cooffins. I like to decorate for fall with actual and edible squash, which means I have a lot of squash to eat. I favor the low carb ones: spaghetti and Japanese pumpkin. Japanese pumpkin is quite versatile when it comes to recipe inventions. It makes a wonderful soup and pie. It is very sweet and doesn't need much more in the way of sweeteners to keep it low carb and near carnivore. Squash.

Yesterday, I attempted cookies but was working without a recipe and so went by feel. I have been baking since a teen; this approach usually turns out alright. Begin by baking the squash at 350 until soft. Let it cool and then you can put it in the fridge until you are ready to use it. It'll keep for a couple days. Freezing will only preserve it for soups.

My 'cookies' turned out to be something somewhere between a cookie and muffin ... a cooffin ... but not heavy enough to be a scone. I suppose I could have kept the mixture a bit wetter and made a muffin proper or maybe a nice pumpkin bread. I think if I had wanted to make it a little bit more like a cookie, the addition of some peanut butter would have given it a bit more crumble; and just the right amount of danger.

Anyways here are the ingredients; you can experiment yourself and see what you come up with. Let me know. My final product was tasty and comforting and full of protein.

1 baked Japanese pumpkin
2-3 eggs
6-8 scoops of whey powder
6-8T of collagen
1-2 t of powdered gelatine
1/2 pound of butter/lard
cinnamon (tablespoons of it; it gives structure and sweetness)
nutmeg to taste
stevia drops to taste (I used toffee flavored)
vanilla extract
chocolate chips(optional)
unsweetened cranberries 9(optional)

Butter for spreading is a nice addition once they have cooled too. I had that with my coffee this morning, while I watched Russell Brand.

You will have to play around with your amounts based on how sweet and what kind of texture you want. But your house will smell divine and you'll be warm ... your zombie inside will thank me. Yuuu ...m

The Wisp

Bara realized she was dreaming and then forgot just as fast. “Who are you?” she asked.
He said nothing and put a finger to his mouth.
“You can’t talk?”
He nodded and held out his hand. She took hold and was instantly filled with a pleasant heat. He helped her to her feet. Together, they moved out of the clearing and back into the trees and into the darkness. No branch scratched her skin. Her feet no longer hurt. The moss continued on like someone had laid out a green carpet for visiting royalty. They traveled through the velvet-black. When they came out of the trees again, it was onto the shore of a small lake. Bara knew of no lake nearby. They weren't in the real-life forest surrounding Windfall. Not anymore. Above was a foreign star-scape of constellations and planets, unnaturally bright. They’d moved into another world.
The stars began to fall then. Light blazed down from the sky and hovered before piercing through the lake surface. Radiant rapiers cut through the watery depths and trailed down into the dark. The last shimmering trail dimmed and Bara was alone again. Her eyes searched the beach and what she could see of the forest. Nothing. The dark-haired boy was gone.

A wave hit and shattered the silence. A rush invaded the shore, quickly followed by another. The lake bubbled and surged. The moonlight reflected off the splash as steam. A glow appeared beneath the waves and lifted from the water. The glow was a girl. Her arms and legs unfolded. Her hair was full and thick and rode upon a wind of its own. Her long robes, her eyes, her hair, and even her skin glowed white. As she glided across the lake, her feet grazed the water below and created trails of spray. She stopped and hovered a few meters from shore.
Bara stared in wonder. Here was a face just like her own, maybe aged a little, but not more than a year or two. She stood before yet another doppelgänger, but there was no terror as before. This one had eyes. They glowed like the rest of her, but she did have eyes. They held no menace, only an unmistakable sense of kindness. All beauty is not beauty, sang the apparition.
“Who are you?” Bara asked. “Are you me?”
“No. I am not you, but I am your Spiritkin. I have a message for you. I can help you through the Slip, but you must listen. All beauty is not beauty,” she repeated.
She opened her mouth to speak again but then closed it suddenly. Her eyes grew wide There was a snarl from behind. Bara turned and started. A wolf, larger than any wolf she’d ever seen, emerged from the woods, belly low to the ground. Its fur was silver, not grey, but silver. Another snarl revealed sharp and long canines. Metallic foam flowed from a jagged mouth. It neared and grew in size. Its teeth lengthened and sharpened.
Its intent was clear—attack.

The Wolf sprang. The distance was great, too great for any natural wolf to cover with one leap. This one flew through the air with ease. Bara ducked. Her hands flew to cover her head. She expected jaws to grab hold, for sharp, heavy claws to push her to the ground and pierce her tender skin. She felt only the weight of a shadow as it soared above and over her head.
There was the unmistakable splash of water. The Wolf jumped with such power it positively flew. It sprang once more, covered the remaining distance, and barreled into the Spiritkin. Glowing white and silver entwined a foot or two above the water and battled. The Wolf pulled the Spiritkin down to the surface. They splashed ferociously in the shallows. She fought back, but the Wolf was too strong, too quick. Its teeth took hold of her throat and bit. Thick trails of red ran down her glowing skin. The Wolf didn’t give up its bite and she stopped struggling.
Still in the creature’s jaws, the Spiritkin turned her head to look at Bara. Her mouth opened and closed. No sound. Vocal cords were cut. The wolf released its jaws from her bloody neck and backed off several feet. It watched and waited.
The Spiritkin touched her throat. The glow intensified beneath her hand. When she removed her fingers, it died down. Miraculously, she was healed. Once again she opened her mouth to speak. She tried again and again. Her eyes brimmed with tears of frustration. Only silent air passed between her lips.
The depth of the water grew then. The Spiritkin hung her head and sank beneath the waves. An instant later, a large globe of light rose from the lake. Like a reverse comet, it soared into the dark sky and the Spiritkin was gone.

A victorious howl tore through the night. The Wolf turned now to Bara and began a menacingly slow approach through the water. She backed away. Her foot caught on a rock and land gave way. With a single bound, the Wolf cleared the space between them and landed on top of her. They were eye to eye. Her tranquil green battled its stormy silver. She smelled its breath. It was warm and metallic. It smelled of blood.
Not wanting to witness her own end, Bara went to close her eyes but stopped and opened them wide again. Flickering like the glow of the predator’s eyes, a locket hung from its thickly furred neck—an odd collar for such a ferocious beast.
The Wolf gnashed its teeth. It lifted a heavy and sharp paw. The paw lowered. A blur of golden light prevented the beast’s sharp nails from slicing her soft skin. Appearing as from mist, the dark-haired boy threw himself into the Wolf. Had a boulder collided with a granite cliff? The Wolf should have flown through the air. Its silver fur merely shook. Then like an icicle falling up, the locket rose above and over its head and into the dark-haired boy’s grip. The dark-haired boy didn’t hang around. On the fleetest of feet, he stole into the trees. His glowing white dimmed—from a blaze, to a spark, to a pinpoint, to nothing.

The Wolf glared at Bara, growled, and then tore off after the dark-haired boy and the stolen locket. Follow. Bara came to sitting. She brought herself to wobbly legs and began to run clumsily through the woods in pursuit. Pain reminded her she wore no shoes. The moss had disappeared. The ground was again rough and sharp. Wounds tore open, but the way was clear—a path of broken branches and trampled earth.