This cloudy Sunday afternoon finds me and my little canine friend home alone. The pressure cooker is hissing and the air conditioning units are humming. That's ok though because everything is cool. I am making a hearty beef -- vegetable soup.
All of the vegetables in my super, stick to your ribs, soup are homegrown from my garden.
This year our peach trees bore beautiful flawless fruit, in abundance, the red and purple plum trees, the same.
A freshly baked peach pie rests on the counter and more than that; the shelves and baskets in our freezers are looking peachy too!
Next week I will start processing corn and green beans. Some cornstalks are leaning, due to the wind. I am sure they will stand at attention, by next roll call. Mother nature got them into the mess. She will pick them up.
My new computer can not dial up my internet service provider. Hewlett-Packard and a Sam's Club technician are working on the matter. Hopefully, a solution to the problem will come soon.
An in-home service order has been issued by Sam's. The HP product that I purchased is under limited factory warranty, but I have a three year service plan with the wholesale club as well.
So, I wait and work on work processor off-line, champing at the bit to regain AOL access. How on earth did I get so spoiled to something that creates so many headaches?
Why do I miss Facebook? I hardly ever put my two-cents in there. Could be, because mos of my family and many of my friends are sharing bits and pieces of their everyday lives and more with other hooked "Bookies" and me.
Three or four days without visiting the local funeral home's websites is killing me. Condolences are important to me and a comfort to families in times of sorrow.
The fellow in India whom represented HP cleared the computer of my files, before I realized nothing was backed up. I am missing a few connectors, but most of what is missing, such as addresses and favorites information, is stored in my head.
When we lose our electricity due to a storm or some curious squirrel tampers with the transformer; I bring out the candles.
When Brazil city forewarns and turns off the water, to do repair work; I fill containers with enough water to see me through the short drought.
When the land phone gives me static; I reach for the cell phone.
I am a survivor-always prepared. My old school rescues are many. B is good, but that plan does not apply to an out of order HP computer.
Until the expert with the right tools arrives at the little blue house at the end of the road, this article will be hand carried to The Brazil Times.
When I began writing "Brazil Buzz" eight years ago, July 25, 2002. I submitted my weekly ramblings in person to the newspaper office.
When I was told that I could send them in via email, I did. This week I will revert back to my original method, "Plan A."
Thanks to you, John Weddle, for mentioning my poem, "The planting place" in your article.
I congratulate you. It is an honor to become a publish poet. I will be watching for you poem, "God is Love." I am elated that you are considering the submission of another of your poems to E&W. I did.
My latest poem, is titled, "So, what does it matter?" The short poem contains extended metaphors and compares women-tree-love and death. It makes sense to me, but as several of my readers and others know, I am a writer of copious amounts of poetry, good, better, best and rotten.
I thank God for the inspirations and opportunities afforded me and cross my fingers.
I write often. I learn through experimentation and revision and keep a sunny, positive attitude. I win, lose and play the game again and again.
I do not know what will become of all of the used up paper that I have in store or the evidences of my successes and failures when I die, but then, what does it matter?
I can be reached at 812-446-4852 or by email at firstname.lastname@example.org.