Last Tuesday, Paul and I decided to set our chores aside and take a short road trip. We visited family in Greene County.
My sister, Sandra and her husband Gilbert were not available when we arrived at their home in Linton so; we placed three cartons of jumbo brown eggs back in our basket and drove several blocks to the home of the Harris family. Diana is Sandra's daughter.
Diana and Dave's daughter Katie and her, forever friend, Courtney welcomed us, graciously.
Katie informed us that her mother was in Jasonville picking blackberries. We decided to wait. The teenager refrigerated the eggs.
I wanted to check out the beautifully landscaped yard, the flowers, the fountain and all of the amenities that surround the artistically designed garden pond. The sizable crystal clear pond is teeming with lively Koi that move gracefully about the lily pads.
I am sure a frog or more watched our reflections in the unclouded mirror surrounded by stones.
When I saw the beautiful picturesque view such as that of the Harris family, I thought about the picture titled "Anna Hathaway's Cottage," that hung on my grandmother, Edith Siner's wall in the little white house that still stands next to the City of Brazil's Garage on West National.
William Outhwaite painted the original watercolor of the cottage, surrounded by flowers and greenery that once belonged to the second wife of William Shakespeare. The cottage, a farmhouse with 12 rooms is a tourist attraction today. It is located in Warwickshire, England not far from Stratford -On-The- Avon.
I thought about my grandmother, Etta Fisher Lynch, her lovely yard, dahlia gardens and goldfish pond. My mind offered many bouquets that day. Stored memories and never forgotten fragrances awakened my senses.
I even thought my little row of zinnias and the burning bush-leaves covered with rusty lace.
I am amazed at how well the City of Linton controls the bug population.
Patrons that visit my niece's business (Diana's Beauty Salon) no doubt, enjoy the peaceful setting, as well. Maybe folks do sit a few moments and reflect as I did.
Since Diana was not home, I decided to carefully remove her well-wrapped gift from the back seat of the car and turn it into a surprise. We unwrapped a beautiful mother fairy, her wind chime harp and cherub-like child that we purchased from Bland's Nursery, gift store in Linton, several seasons ago, before thoughts of our own pond fizzled out.
Katie helped us select the perfect spot for the colorfully dressed woman with the harp.
The chimes seemed anxious to meet up with the gentle breeze that day. They whispered softly, but spoke, loudly to those graceful swimmers as they swam in an out amongst the lily pads.
They gave dear Kate a sampling of their sweet music as we placed our set-up. Just as we stepped back to drink in the beauty, Diana drove up in her shiny red Ford Focus.
Our niece was happy to see us. She was delighted with the magic harp and the angelic-like fairies.
My niece and her eldest daughter, Taylor Harris unloaded the beautiful, juicy thimble sized berries, heaped high in snow-white gallon ice cream containers. Then we visited her inside her lovely home.
She offered-up a choice of beverages. I opted for an orange drink that I had not tasted since I left home almost 53 years ago. I reckon that I have been too busy drinking coffee and water since then to miss the orange beverage.
My tired taste buds perked up on that hot day.
They silently said, "We have been there and done that. Let's give it another go, for old time's sake for goodness sake!" I drank like a fish.
When I was a kid my father would bring one six-count carton of pop home, from Lynch Bros. Grocery where he worked, every Sunday, He selected six different flavors and we could choose which bottle of the carbonated beverage we preferred. We never had a problem with that, because we could handle any one of them, easily. I preferred the orange, but did not argue if that did not work out. Even the biggest bottle in the carton, Royal Crown Cola fit my hand. This kid of yesterday could hold just short of that much and did not mind a rumble or two from the angry gut gods and occasional excitement in my nasal passages. Oh come on now, you know about that, right.
We stopped by the Gallardo home on the way back to Brazil.
Paul checked out the buggies that Gilbert built his nice collection of military memorabilia and other keepsakes.
I walked around the well-kept yard and checked out flowers, garden plants and young and older trees.
Gilbert and Sandra are cat fanciers. I met some very special felines.
We enjoyed a very nice restful day.
Friday while working in my garden, I spotted the first ripe tomato. I plucked the medium sized crimson beauty from the vine. Imagine that!
Since the little blue house at the end of the road is not too close to my garden, I pondered on where to secure the red gem for a few more minutes. I was making great gains with my new hoe.
This writer was wearing an oversized pair of a fatter Mary Lou's shorts, with big deep pockets on the backside. I plopped my tomato in one and continued my war on weeds, a free-range dog and the young woodchuck that popped out of hiding, briefly.
I pooped out just short of the green beans and went home.
The phone was ringing. I answered and dropped down in a comfortable chair to chat. Tootie sat at my feet.
All of a sudden, I told the caller to remain on line. I felt something wet on my hip.
We started laughing about water pills.
I stuck my hand in my back pocket and pulled out a smashed tomato. It is a wonder the tomato was recognizable.
I suppose it did not matter, because the saltshaker was empty and there is more to ripen on the vine.
I can be reached by phone at 446-4852 or by email at firstname.lastname@example.org.