There’s the whole “meat is murder” versus “the good lord must love us because He created pork ribs” debate. One I’m not prepared to get into. With anyone. Then there’s an appreciation for a little slice of the countryside, an area that I really enjoy, and that’s mentioned.
I picked up an early morning post via Scott’s TFG about the resurgence of the cattle business. Texas cattle business. Which reminded me of a recent conversation with Sister, “Yeah, I’m vegetarian again.”
Yes, she’ll be vegetarian until the aforementioned pork ribs show up on my plate, then she’ll have to have some of that special “textured vegetable protein” for herself. What makes the ribs so appealing, though, and I’m sure of this, is the fact that the ribs are on my plate.
Lost in Space:
I do believe I mentioned this at one point, the new “planet” that’s been identified. First glance? I’m guessing Aries, and from what I’m hearing from Aries? Be a good guess, as good as any. but might be Taurus, too, as I haven’t looked into this much. Yet.
The “planet versus asteroid” debate isn’t too tricky for me. Las Cruces and my alma mater, Roswell (NM), played home to the guy who “discovered” Pluto. Therefore, Pluto is a planet. And if that line of reasoning is followed, then this new one is probably a planet, too, by whatever definition.
Flip the equation around, and pay attention to the other side of the question, and I can personally attest to the strength of Pluto’s influence. I would point out that my reasoning won’t stand up under the harsh light of the scientists. Not that it ever bothered me, being the marginalized person like I am.
Nothing to do with anything:*
Nice clip on Kinky for Guv.
*pronounced, “nuthin’ ta dew with anythin’.” For the record.
More nothing:
Hybrid cars equate to? I’m liking that.
Even more nothing:
It was a balmy 90-something degrees, a few clouds, and I was walking along, sans shirt. I wandered by to see my favorite barista, grabbed a cold shot of espresso (double – on the rocks), and I hooked it over towards the post office. Downtown post office. I’m still stuck on my neighbors commenting on “that weird guy who never wears a shirt.” Me. I had a shirt in hand, I just didn’t have it on. It’s 90 or more outside. As I was heading through the long corridor of the post office, enjoying both shade and AC, even if it was just for a moment, I noticed a guy in a suit, nice suit, summer-weight wool,* nicely tailored, shirt, tie. And a single drop of sweat rolled off his nose and it fell towards whatever he was reading.
*”Summer weight wool,” isn’t that like, an oxy-moron? Or better yet, isn’t it an ironic term?
Fish on:
Three fish in the morning, two that didn’t warrant pictures, and one that flipped himself off the dock before the camera was ready. Feisty black bass, that one. He was fun. He saw me, and moved up stream. I tossed the jig past him and drug it back to his position. Black and blue craw-dad looking thing. With added rattle. He couldn’t resist.
