[The Brazil Times nameplate] Overcast ~ 64°F  
High: 71°F ~ Low: 49°F
Saturday, Apr. 30, 2016

Brazil Buzz

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

I am home alone this Sunday afternoon. Paul is at Sears and Tootie Mae is stretched out taking a beauty nap on the four- poster bed.

Starla McHugh, our first born visited us this morning. She is in from Phoenix to celebrate this day, Mother's Day, the graduation ceremony of her future daughter-in-law, Kayleigh Dawn Frendenburg and her youngest son, Daniel Risk's 22nd birthday.

Lori called me from her home in Lakewood, Co. She loves the natural wonders of the state. The observer paints a clear picture of the panoramic view within her scope of vision as she drives to and from the airport where she works.

Yesterday, I saw beautifully formed snow covered mountains, shadows and shades of color. She encountered prairie dogs along the way and tiny burrowing owls that co-habit with them in small colonies. Recent Eagle sightings were noted as well.

I was warned by my father and mother to distance myself from big trees during a storm or any high wind events.

My yard and extended properties are full of large trees and associated dangers. During last weeks breezy conditions I was reminded of an old tired apple tree that I once knew. Every time the sky darkened and a storm headed our way our Dad reeled us in. Sometimes limbs tumbled down, shortly after he threw out the line. Then, he would throw out an old, but new line, "I told you so!"

That was a little grating to the ears at the time, but, fact is; lightning did not strike us and neither limb nor tree knocked us out or worse.

Today is cool, but the winds died and the breeze is gentle. Again, I move about freely and become an observer of all that is beautiful in my Indiana and my world.

I fed the crows that hang out here. A tiny bluebird rested on a lower branch of the maple tree and several birds of the finch family and others were at the feeders.

The bluebird is nesting in a colorful birdhouse that Lori Patrick, my youngest constructed for me. It has been in use over a decade now.

Nosy birds with sticky feet and beaks visit the fruit trees, especially, the cherries frequently. It might be a smart idea to gather-up the protective netting out of storage.

I do not know for sure if the resident groundhog moved. Last week while cutting tall grass by the building that he tried to raze, I stepped into a deep tunnel and temporarily lost sight of the lower part of my leg and a foot.

I pulled the limb out faster than you can say cheese in front of your camera. The picture was not pretty.

My leg, the one with the birthmark of a devil's head was unscathed. Ten crooked toes and my ugly bunion all, intact, when I unknotted my shoe lace, dropped the dirty white tennis shoe and looked, but my blood pressure went for the gold.

I looked around to see if anyone was looking. Of course not! All that was standing there was a vibrating lawnmower in need of adjustment and no eyes in sight. I grabbed the handle of that lawn machine and headed to the garage to ditch it and get a shovel.

There is nothing better than garden dirt when it comes to filling in a hole in the ground.

The recent rains have put a dent in the ground where our old privy once stood. I believe that played a role in my history. It is important to add more dirt there too.

I do not own an x, but I could mark the spot with a few cannas or something in a pot, in remembrance.

There is never a dull moment around here. There is always working to do and something to see.

Occasionally a wandering and weary stranger will drop by for a brief stopover. Several days ago, during a downpour, I looked out my backdoor. There, before my eyes sat a beautiful healthy male boxer wearing a harness.

I knew at first sight the pampered pooch was missed by a worried someone.

Over the years unwanted animals, cats, as well as dogs, healthy and otherwise, have been dumped out in this area to fend for themselves. I had a gut feeling that handsome animal was someone's best friend, no doubt about it.

I unlocked the door and opened it. As I did, the frightened canine limped into my woods and disappeared. Since I didn't know his name, this dog lover failed to get a response when I attempted to coax him out.

Secondly, I thought he might belong to my good neighbor Eddie Knox, and the traveler would go home.

That night when the Sears guy returned home, I told him about my visitor. He listened.

Two days or more passed and I moved on.

Paul and I visited the Wabash Valley Animal Hospital, on Monday. Tootie Mae Sartor needed a yearly check-up.

While we were sitting in the waiting room, he observed a flyer on the bulletin board and brought it to my attention. Yes, Jerry Joe Froderman was the same dog that I met up with earlier. I, then, had the owners name and number.

I told the office girl about the sighting. Kim called Melissa Froderman with the good news. She even allowed me to speak to the pet owner on their business phone.

That afternoon Melissa came out to the property and searched for Jerry Joe. Jerry could have been out of earshot or was not ready to end his vacation. She went home without her pet.

Time passed before more good new came about.

While cutting my grass, the boss of a work crew that was cutting the grass at Restlawn cemetery came down to see if I lost a boxer.

One of the mowers came across him lying in the grass. I thanked him for asking and ran into the house to contact the Frodermans.

I was so excited, my heart was racing and my hands were shaking. My good deed of the day would soon be in the bag.

Soon, Melissa was back in the pasture looking for Jerry. Mary Ann and Doug joined the search. The family, another boxer and others searched the area, while Jerry played hide and seek.

After more than several minutes, the Frodermans and their beloved Jerry Joe were standing in my front yard. We were all happy, very happy indeed!

I am glad Jerry stopped by the little blue house at the end of road. More than that, I met his very nice family. God is good!

I can be reached by phone at 446-4852 or by email at pmlsartor@aol.com.