Day four of anti-fat-butt morning walking:
I didn’t really feel like moving this morning, as reports, which have not been confirmed nor denied, state that I may, or may not, have eaten way too much Beef and Broccoli last night in a fit of loneliness. How much Beef and Broccoli is too much Beef and Broccoli? Well, that’s the funny thing about Beef and Broccoli overload…it’s personal. One person’s adequate intake of Beef and Broccoli is another’s gaseously bloated, hellish indigestion, or GBHI.
I had GBHI last night, and into this morning. In laymen’s terms, my tummy hurt.
In other news, saying ‘Beef and Broccoli’ several times over and over again is way more amusing than you might think.
In more other news, you just tried saying it. I know you did.
My Captain came home this morning, pushed me into voting early (they only let me go through the line once, dammit.) and then wanted to walk my new morning exercise route with me.
I had no way to get out of it without disappointing him, so I pushed my GBHI into the background, and out my Beloved and I went.
I wasn’t sorry. Today’s view was better than any other I’d ever had.
I found new interest in the idea of walking.
I didn’t feel my normal fatigue even when I passed the mile mark.
I found a reason to put pep in my step.
It was as if I was seeing the whole process of exercise in a whole new light. I can’t really put my finger on what it was, though. Just something in the view made me glad to be there.
Oftentimes, the farm dogs will join me, but today they were nowhere to be found. Though I did come upon these two dogs I’d never seen before, and remarked to my Captain that I hadn’t.
He paused, looked at me intently, then finally took a sip of his coffee, and chuckled in his deep, wonderfully sexy way, “They’re not dogs. They’re goats.”
Oh.
My eyes ain’t what they used to be.
Unless, of course, I’m looking at my Beloved.
I could never mistake him for a dog!
Mama Boe 