Cutting the Ornamental Grass

One of my duties yesterday morning was using a weed wacker to cut the grass islands in the parking lot. I did a very good job and even cut the ornamental grass to the regulation lawn height of 2 inches. I'm not actually sure there's a regulation lawn height, but if I'm asked about the ornamental grass, I'll know what to say.

The afternoon duties were to work out in the gym. I liked that. I'm also sore now. That's okay.

Ribs for dinner are pretty exciting. They get much less exciting when you realize the kitchen ran out of barbecue sauce and used tomato paste instead.

I've mentioned the South's love of fat in my letters home but not here. I quickly learned that when you want rice, you need to say, "Rice, no gravy." The same goes for noodles. I would have thought that this would be the default assumption, but apparently gravy is supposed to go on everything here. Even the lima beans are mixed with chopped pork fat. I shouldn't have been surprised when the kitchen added gravy to the mixed vegetables. Gravy is part of each meal here if you don't specify against it: biscuits and gravy for breakfast and gravy on rice or potatoes for lunch or dinner. Nothing against gravy, mind you. I just don't know how one kills enough animals to make this much gravy.

My abs are starting to show a bit of a six pack. I'm kind of excited for that. I'm not sure I've had that level of ab definition before. I guess that's what happens when you run 4 miles every other morning and then go biking, swimming, or lifting afterwards. I miss non-stationary bikes... meaning normal bikes.