Elaine Meinel Supkis
Switzerland is running an online advertising campaign to attract "soccer widows" who are supposedly at loose ends this year thanks to the World Cup. So these ads feature Swiss Misters. Nice. Heh. I'm married. Oh well.
No earth-shattering news here. Just me being silly tonight. The cow in my drawing is a real Swiss cow, my dear, departed Dale, the left hand of my former ox team of Chip and Dale. He weighed in at over a ton and his shoulder was over six feet tall and he was stupendously huge and he loved the snow and living on a steep mountain, the breed is made to sit on high pasture hillsides, like the kings they are, gazing down the valley, chewing the cud and then heaving off the ground to mosey on down to the stables for some bananas or maybe to steal a bottle of beer.
Chip and Dale could grab a bottle with their flexible lips, hoist it into the air and drain it. Never got drunk, a keg would barely give them a hiccup. With multiple stomachs, they could eat vast amounts of whatever.
When we used to brew beer, we would feed them the fermented grains. They loved this mash. Sparky, our Alpine draft horse, turned up his nose at beer but the boys loved beer. And mead. Even Scotch. Their noses would twitch with joy whenever they smelled brew nearby.
Maybe I should go to Switzerland and discuss the habits of my livestock with some of the young men in that commercial. We could milk cows, hey, I even know how to milk goats and sheep! Heck, I could go to Mongolia, they live in tents and do all that stuff and I did all that stuff, too, here!
I think my husband is calling for me.