Munch

I would like to have something to munch on with my beer.

Do you have any snacks that we could munch on?

Munch on this.

Do you have anything I could munch on?

I'd like to have something to munch on with my beer.

During my university days, it was cheap then to buy a snack. I would munch on a curried beef bun or a big cinnamon roll and drink a cup of tea.

Tom went into the kitchen to get something to munch on.

I label Rod, a bicyclist at the Lulu Island café, a spiritual "eclectic," this morning on the 22nd of August of 2022. He is a slim older white man. He talks to me, whilst I munch on salted vinegar potato chips with iced black tea, beside a favourite Spanish-language sci-fi book, Crónicas de Majipur, by Robert Silverberg. Rod believes that there is "one God," but I say that God could be either singular or plural, as number is a limitation on God. I wonder if he is a "pantheist" or "panpsychist," who believes that there is, at some level, the divine or the mind, respectively, in everybody and everything, even a "pillow." The terminology excites him. He shows me a video describing the complex Aztec calendar on his smartphone. The presentation is full of Aztec, aka Nahuatl, words, which he mistakes for "Mayan." I tell him that in ancient Mexico, the Aztecs were more like the Japanese, whilst the Maya were more like the Chinese. I utter some words presented in Nahuatl. He does not look too surprised that I know how to pronounce. We both have visited Mexico before.

I’m going to find something to munch on.

In the morning of the 11th of August of 2025, I microwaved the salty sushi-chorizo rice with nori sheets and bitter-melon mung-bean soup. I had also a mug of lukewarm lemon water. I ate on the balcony. Sitting out there near under the potted branching plumeria redeems my lost days of summer. Later, I walked, picking blackberries to munch on the way, to Tim Hortons café, there to have oat-milk iced coffee. Rod stepped in to get breakfast with bottles of orange juice before his and his wife's long camper trip circulating the BC Interior, being back sometime in September. His wife Joanne is open-minded, spiritual, and likes the stars and planets. She's Ukrainian-descent. In the afternoon, sitting and standing on the balcony, feeling the warm breeze, I sip my iced lemon water in a mug. Down below, the neighbour Moli Wong's rose garden reminds me of an Earth scene in Isaac Asimov's book, Pebble in the Sky.