Vanity Fair for Breakfast

I arrived at the deck this morning, as I am accustomed to, checked my plants, hopped on the table and … I found no water, not even a single grape. In fact, I found nothing I could even remotely call breakfast. Just an empty coffee cup and a current issue of Vanity Fair with this crazy peanut Baldwin on the cover. How is that for a good morning?

Despite this huge disappointment, I decided to stick around for a while hoping that my “caring” neighbors will soon show up with something to eat. And while I was at it I leafed through the magazine. I’ve learned about Microsoft’s lost decade, about Eisenhower’s modesty and what happened once upon a time in Cannes. I have also confirmed my suspicion that Mr. Baldwin is indeed an American treasure (as am I)…and with all that, thirsty or not, I felt worldly and informed. I actually enjoyed myself sliding on the pages of this August issue. But, while I was getting closer to finding out who Bubba Watson is (apparently he likes his holes in the ground as much as I do!) and where the money lives, I was interrupted by arrival of chilled water, few hazelnuts and a handful of peanuts.
Well … the bliss of summer morning in the country never fails to enliven me! The taste of simple pleasures is truly heavenly. As are the hazelnuts, or filbert nuts. What is the difference anyway? Anyone?

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