I reward myself with trips to the grocery store.
Finally, after yielding to the weather and my own slothful indolence for several days, I got out and mowed the lawn a few hours ago. Inasmuch as I did the deed after walking 6.29 miles early this morning, pride erupted from me like magma from a volcano! I am counting on the proverb, pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall not being literal.
After that massive expenditure of energy, I had to relax, so I did so by taking a drive to two grocery stores, Fiesta (a grocery chain catering primarily to Hispanic, African, and Caribbean customers) and Sprouts (a grocery chain catering to food snobs and others). My take: lots of tomatoes on the vine, lots of Roma tomatoes, a cantaloupe, some jalapeños, a huge sack of seedless green grapes, a bunch of cilantro, 10 limes, 4 lemons, and a few other odds and ends.
I have a weakness for tomatoes. Even tomatoes from the store (instead of my own garden which, incidentally, does not exist) excite me and make me smile and fidget. I enjoy tomatoes for breakfast, something I have discovered my wife does not. She tolerates them for breakfast, or at least she used to, but she has made it clear that she does not want me to put them on her plate any more. Ach, such a disappointment to me. I’ll get over it. I’ll interpret her distaste for breakfast tomatoes as yet another reason to reward myself at that meal with more TOMATOES!
