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Thursday, May 26, 2016

Brazil Buzz

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

All is still in the little blue house at the end of the road. For now, some of the chores have been set aside until another day.

Yesterday, I worked outside, inside and all around the place. The walk behind bush hog and push lawn mower wore me out.

Sorry to say, I slept poorly last night. My eyes were wide open. I reworked the day's tasks and made out a mental schedule for today.

The hands on the clock traveled around the clock. I saw them move through the night, hour by hour, minute by minute.

What about the blood pressure? Special attention has been paid to the high numbers, lately. I thought about my late mother and brother, Johnny Wayne. They had high blood pressure too.

Sadness overwhelmed me. Both died of cardiac arrest.

My restless heart cried out in silence, "God allow them to stand before me a while longer." But, again, my loved ones were gone, before I could say goodbye.

I got up and sat down at the kitchen table awhile. The milk that I poured was very cold. I drank a partial glass. A snack wasn't in the plan, but the buttered slice of wheat toast sure did taste good.

I turned on the back porch light and checked for rain. I thought of my recently planted garden. The place where plantings flourish and weeds vanish was replanted before my exhausted body and droopy eyes.

I smiled! I grabbed the last few moments of darkness, before Tootie Mae and Paul rattled my chain and reminded me to get up and get going.

This old country girl has much to do, everyday, all day. It is a way of life.

I appreciate what comes naturally and honor the family traditions. I practice what was taught to me from my mentors, work hard and make everyday count.

As W. Somerset, Maugham once said, "Tradition is a guide and not a jailer."

Yesterday, I picked beautiful red cherries from my dwarf trees... I prepared them for the freezer. I look forward to homemade cherry pies come winter.

I credit the success of my little orchard to the late John Baumunk, the attorney that handled my father's estate. He was a learned gardener and orchardist. His hands and heart were in tune with nature.

John shared worthwhile information, in regard to handling the saplings, associated diseases and pest concerns. The generous lawyer was always good for more appreciated advice than that of which we paid for.

When I walk through the healthy orchard, I wonder what Mr. Baumunk and my father would think of my perfectly pruned trees and the "fruits of my labors." I believe that they would approve.

John and my father were steadfast friends for many years. During Dad's bout with Lymphoma, his old friend made bedside visits at the Clay County Hospital and the homestead, not only in a professional capacity, but also as his caring friend.

The gentlemen discussed everything from the necessary particulars involved with of life's finality to memorable rabbit hunting seasons that they had known.

They mutually agreed that they loved the month of June, when the gardens flourished and the cherries on the trees ripened.

John was a special link in my father's chain of friendships.

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