To Eat, Drink and Mow The Lawn

A bowl of beef stew. I do believe that this is not a rich man's menu choice. Not that I have read many rich man's menus. I have read their memoirs and have yet to see a mention of beef stew. I'm sure they know what beef stew is and probably think it a food staple of those "other people." We, the "other people," also never have a conversation about beef stew. There are no movies or songs that attest to its goodness. It stays in the closet, to be hauled out on a cold winter's day like an old overcoat. We tell no one and remain smug about its consumption. If someone asks, we give it a fancy name like Beef Bourguignon or French Cassoulet. Someone has to take a stand, so this evening I will put aside my smugness and enjoy my beef stew, possibly with a croissent.

Where's the beer? Although I inbibe ocasionally of  the beverage, I do not see its attraction. It's primary purpose seems to be the lubrication of the throat and the loosening of the tongue. The former can be accomplished with other less expensive liquids. And the latter will only suffice with more expensive. It can also be noted that the increased wagging of tongues is accompnied by widening of the waist.

I am convinced that lawn mowing has medicinal remedies yet to be discovered. Back and forth, the straight lines give you a sense that all is right with the world. Mind you, all mowing conditions have to be right. Steep grades and rocks especially can disrupt your sensibilities. But perfect conditions can make for a pleasant afternoon. Mowing at different angles brings out your inner artistic feelings for all the world to see. Hey neighbour, look at this, as good as the Yankees baseball field. Whoa! Keep that dog off my lawn.

Facebook for today: I think I can, I think I can.
chug-a chug-a
chug-a chug-a
The little bra that could.