By Georgia Osten
I just had this stimulating conversation with my husband about cows chewing their “cud.” On that wonderful Spring-like day we had on Sunday, we decided to get the lawn mowed before the rain and/or cold front came in. Of course, the mower bogged down with all the wet clover and grass that makes the yard look so green and luscious. Our critter, we thought she was a dog, loves to go eat all the clumps of yucky stuff the mower spits out – disgusting. This is the same critter who yearns to be let out just after the garbage truck leaves our house. That being because the garbage truck drips crud from it’s holding compartment while it stops in front of the house to pick up our garbage. She will lay in the road to lick up the drippy crud leaking from the truck.
Oh well, let me get back to my story about “cud.” What in the world is “cud?” All I remember is that cows chew their cud. I knew that, I’ve always known that, but never questioned just what exactly is “cud?” Sorry to disgust any of you, but if you know the answer, please kindly let me know. Or, if I’ve gone all these long many years of my life and I don’t know, maybe I don’t deserve to know.
(This article published 2/23/2015)
GO’s Sand Bucket is only one beach bum’s journal of life at the beach, probably something each of you can relate to. Please feel free to email me with your thoughts, visions and/or feelings of just exactly what the beach means to you.
Contact Georgia Osten:
[contact-form-7 404 "Not Found"]
Posted in 
