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Saturday, Apr. 30, 2016

Brazil Buzz

Wednesday, June 18, 2008


O queenly month of indolent repose!

I drink thy breath in sips of rare perfume,

As in thy downy lap of clover bloom

I nestle like a drowsy child and doze

The lazy hours away. The zepher throws

The shifting shuttle of the Summer's loom

And weaves a damask-work of gleam and gloom

Before thy listless feet. The lily blows

A bugle call of fragrance o'er the glade;

And, wheeling into ranks with plume and spear,

Thy harvest armies gather on parade;

While, faint and far away, yet pure and clear,

A voice calls out of alien lands of shade:

All hail the peerless Goddess of the Year!

James Whitcomb Riley

I think James would have enjoyed a walk around this warm place. The honeysuckle is in bloom and clinging to the old rusty fences that surround the pasture at the homestead and thereabouts. Cherries are ripening on dwarf trees in the orchard and raspberries; peaches and red plums are basking in the warm sunshine waiting to ripen and drop into the gathering baskets.

Tiger lilies, in abundance, stand proud and tall and ready to open up and show off their nodding orange colored flowers, a part of the beauty of June.

Bees, ants, and hummingbirds are busy sharing a gourmet dining experience-- a colorful spread! Butterflies are flitting about and the deer bring their young to see and partake of the stressed goodies in my water- logged garden. Seasoned does sample and set example. Hoof prints are varied in size and dig deep into the soft earth. The heady odor of sweet clover has the attention of happy rabbits. A sizable flock of wild turkeys feed on the tender soybean seedlings in the field.

Could be, nearby, in the thicket, with their best homeland security in place; hens have built nests and our setting on nine or ten egg apiece. New hatchling could be ready to march across that big water logged field like a proud army of soldiers too.

Riley, no doubt, could identify with the beauty of what this lover of nature has captured through these tireless lenses over time. The down to earth Hoosier from Greenfield knew, full well, the comfort that the contents of one's store can provide when clouds darken an otherwise, perfect day and the fragrance of the flowers failed to find his or her path. He too could mask depression with a smile.

The "Hoosier Poet" and I would have had a lot to talk if I had known him other than through poetry read from old books.

"The children's poet," as he is often referred" would have been introduced to three joyous youngster's that once lived at the Lynch homestead and I could take him down memory lane where notes could be compared.

James appreciated the simple pleasures of life, such as I do. He wrote from the heart, using quaint Hoosier dialect. Words came easy and sometimes not in the best possible order. And like me, James Whitcomb Riley borrowed from the thoughts of no one.

This is such a happy place. Someone must have known that, because they dumped off some healthy cats near the little blue house at the end of the road. Two are kittens well on their way to adulthood and the other is a female cat that appears to be of selective breeding. Noting leads me to think otherwise. The felines were hungry and we fed them. They are affectionate and we are giving back. The travelers are living the life of Riley, but, my concern is; what if they weren't dumped out and, instead; they ran away from home? If you live in the north end of town and have lost your cat/ kittens call me and describe your loss, otherwise; they have a safe haven. The adult female has been here longer than the youngsters have. I don't associate her with them.

"Little Orphan Annie" (my sister has called me Annie since the late 40's, when we were began to play pretend) loves the company when Paul is busy elsewhere. I talk to the animals. I would worry if I talked to myself too much.

Maybe James would have sipped some coffee with me, if he had known about my clean shiny cups with red apples on the faces of them and my crumbly oatmeal cookies.

While he enjoyed the coffee I'd show him Barack and Hillary's finch family. Yep, three young complainers and debaters! Oh yes, Paul Baby and Miss Innocent, the zebra finch pair are the proud parents of two scrawny kids now. I suppose they found the little blue house at the end of the road to be a warm home, also. Looks like a few wing clippings are in order, if you read me! Have you heard of an egg toss?

Our daughter's, Starla and Lori came home to Indiana this month. Starla enjoyed a weekend visit and Lori came through last week, in route to her daughter Elizabeth Gail Cory's graduation ceremonies in Virginia.

The report is the speech she gave was fine and smooth as silk. Lizzie received well- deserved and much appreciated scholarships. Her great grandfather, Hugh Lynch, would have been pleased with the fact that; one such award was provided by The Isaac Walton League of America. My dad was a member and supporter of the organization for many years.

I can be reached at 446-4852 or drop me a line 613 N. Elm St., Brazil, or pmlsartor@aol.com.