I recently suggested that we return to the convenience of the water source at the sink and rid us of the clutter of plastic water bottles. Fact is, I am not sure of the reason that we joined the crowd of on-the-go pure bottled spring water fans, in the first place.
The water provided by the City of Brazil tastes better than elsewhere that I have been. However, when that precious water failed to flow freely from the tap; I head to the dorm size refrigerator in the house. Lucky for us, a few bottles of cold water are still in store.
I do boil water that trickles from the tap as well.
Someone once said that we don't miss the water until the well runs dry. Tell me about it! We can add to that--or until these old water pipes spring a leak and more.
Thanks to all that are doing the best they can to dig us out of our water woes.
In 2001, after 25 years of service, Paul was retired from Great Dane Trailers, one week after he reached age 62.
Last Thursday was Paul's last day of employment at Sears. He celebrated his birthday April 6. Paul is 72 years of age and welcomes the much deserved rest.
He began his work life at the tender age of eight, at the Dixie Fruit Market, in Hoopeston, Illinois and has worn many hats, well, on the journey, since.
So, we go on with the rest of our lives and look forward to tomorrow.
We found some nice mushrooms in the last two days. The amount that we found on the first hunt excited the and pleased the taste buds, as I knew they would. Another bowl of the precious fungi awaits a future meal.
Vegetation is growing at a rapid rate. Twisted vines, twigs and fallen trees make us stumble and fall at times, but we are determined to forge on and find the one that will earn us bragging rights and fill the skillet. It is very likely this year.
Paul always finds more than I do, reminding me that he is closer to the ground. Actually, truth is, I am preoccupied most of the time observing all of the beauty that nature provides on the field trip. When that mushroom hunter is on the grounds, I don't work so hard at the game.
Several readers called and emailed last week, including Nancy Davis, in Florida. She is an avid reader of The Brazil Times. The former resident request a peanut butter cookie recipe that I follow.
However, I lost her email address. Therefore, Nancy, if you could forward that information to me, I will gladly send the recipes toward your direction.
Have you ever watched the show on TV about hoarding?
Hoarding is said to be an illness, a need.
The show is about folks with obvious symptoms of an obsessive-compulsive disorder.
The shoppers and collectors of treasures and junk hoard to an unreasonable degree.
Material items of worth and worthless fill their cluttered homes to the extent that there is barely room for them.
Some house many animals. Some can neither provide for themselves nor adequately do the same for the menageries living in their space, mostly, in unsanitary conditions.
Others, shop until they drop, until the stuff piles high and they are lost in the messes that they created.
Relatives and friends become appalled and very upset by at what they see and either they or the hoarders seek help from therapists and organizers, in an attempt to stop the mounting problem for the sake of all concerned.
Whatever the myriad of reasons, by the end of the show, the places look better, at least what the camera lenses focus in on.
I know where I came from a walk in closet and other hidden spaces could hold a world of saves. Shelves can hold more than their weight in so called "gold."
Last night an intelligent former engineer was trying to decide which of two old medicine bottles full of residue he should keep. He was visibly shaken when the organizer asked him what he should do -- keep or pitch, and more; the man almost burst into tears over the matter.
One woman held a fascination with cardboard boxes and everything else under the sun. The house was nice, but the hoard within its walls was overwhelming. There was entirely too much to sweep under the rug.
Another thing is; with so many family members and friends firing complaints, hardly any of them roll up their sleeves and dig into the messes that include: bugs, alive and dead, animal feces, heavily soiled piles of dishes, garbage and trash galore.
I know first hand when folks become ill they can fall behind, but never would I seek a stranger or bring their shortcomings to the attention of others. I would face the problem early on, my way.
Some may wonder why I watch the hoarding show, since I see so much that is wrong with the pictures that I see. I find the show interesting.
When I think about it, It makes me feel good about the housekeeper of the little blue house at the end of the road. I believe in neatness and order.
Now, while the light is good, I must pick a bouquet of violets and check out the progress of Jack in the pulpits, because there is an empty space on top of the TV for a certain clear Fostoria coin glass vase. I earned the "keeper" from Avon back in the '6Os.
Mother and her fondness of the tiny violets is still fresh in my mind.
I can be reached by phone at 812-446-4852 or by email at firstname.lastname@example.org.