Home Opinion Mine Creek Revelations by Louie Graves: Did I Say Comet?

Mine Creek Revelations by Louie Graves: Did I Say Comet?

1921
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YES, I AM STILL HERE looking out my window on Main Street, and I am so disillusioned about skywatching that I’m not going to even mention how I went out at twilight Sunday night hoping to catch a glimpse of Comet NEOWISE in the west-northwest sky.

No, I’m not going to say a negative word about standing out in a freshly mowed field letting the chiggers have a go at my legs and worrying about the copperheads which I was just sure were only inches away.

Further, you won’t hear me say a word about trying to catch a glimpse of the same comet in the east-northeast sky at dawn (if I were a talkative person I’d tell you that the comet is coming from the direction of the sun and that’s why you look in those directions at those times, but I’m not talking).

I could tell you that I might could’ve seen the comet if it hadn’t been for those few clouds so conveniently placed by the devil in order to block out only a small part of the sky.

I’m not going to mention that I went out on my patio at 2:45 Monday morning to see if there was any evidence of the Delta Aquarid Meteor Shower which ‘experts’ had predicted would light up the sky.

But I won’t because I’m through trying to promote comets or meteor showers. As a lot of mommas used to say, “If you can’t say something nice about somebody don’t say nothing.” My mouth is shut.

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DAT SMELL SO GOOD. I didn’t get a lot of comments about pain, so let’s try one about smell.

Sitting out on my patio, one evening this past weekend, I realized I smelled a neighbor getting ready to grill. It was the smell of charcoal lighter splashed upon briquets and cautiously lit.

What do you like to smell? Rain on a hot ashphalt street? The subtle scent of pine resin when you drive down a road in the deep woods?

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HEARD ABOUT. People move away and leave their roots behind.

I’m sorry we didn’t get the obituary for Frank M. Bray, Jr., of Benton who died Feb. 20, this year.

He was the son of the legendary late Frank and Rosalie Bray who owned and operated Sportsman’s Headquarters ‘in the curve’ at Murfreesboro for years and years. I dearly loved his parents. I never met Frank, Jr.

According to his obituary in the Benton newspaper Frank, Jr., was a three sport Murfreesboro Rattler athlete, and even played quarterback for the Tulane University Green Wave. He transferred to the University of Arkansas and got a degree in electrical engineering.

Here’s a story about Frank, Sr., who was dedicated to promoting fishing at Lake Greeson:

He was intrigued by the sea bass which were transplanted to the lake. The fish were supposed to get real big, Frank claimed.

One day a few years later he called me. Someone had found one of the fish that washed up on the rocky shore. Brought it to Frank. The fish was as long as two wooden Coke cases placed end-to-end because that’s how we measured it at his store.

Even dead the fish weighed over 60 pounds. Seems like Arkansas Game and Fish had put seven or eight of the fish in Greeson years earlier to see if they would survive and proliferate. I recall one other of the big fish caught on rod and reel. But I recall that just barely.The lake is home to striper sea bass hybrids now. They’re big, but not THAT big!

I cannot write about Frank, Sr., and the sea bass without mentioning Rosalie and her African Violets. Sweet thoughts, sweet people.

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THE GOOD EARTH. Friday at the Farmers’ Market in Nashville I purchased some fresh peaches and fresh tomatoes. I mean fresh fresh.

Also, I bought some of Gerry Wenta’s figs. The best I ever ate.

If you haven’t been to the market you’ve really missed something. All kinds of fresh fruit, baked goods, veggies, and craft items are available. And friendly conversation at a social distance, of course.

And in case you didn’t know, the market is also open on Monday afternoon, 3-7, for those persons who can’t get there on Friday mornings, 7-11. Or who just couldn’t wait until Friday for more figs, fresh eggs, okra or squash.

There are so many more vendors this year that tables have been moved a few steps away to the adjacent 4-H shed. There were, I believe, five vendors under the shed Friday. Wear your mask.

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THINGS I LEARNED from opening (and believing) anonymous emails: It was the accepted practice in Babylon 4,000 years ago that for a month after the wedding, the bride’s father would supply his son-in-law with all the mead he could drink. Mead is a honey beer and because their calendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month, which we know today as the honeymoon.

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WORD GAMES. Another set of siblings: Tarred and Feathered. Sort of an old-fashioned and unpleasant way of leaving town.

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HE SAID: “Many interviewers when they come to talk to me, think they’re being progressive by not mentioning in their stories any longer that I’m black. I tell them, ‘Don’t stop now. If I shot somebody you’d mention it.’” Colin Powell, general of the army and secretary of state

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SHE SAID: “I was a proponent of the ERA. The women of my generation and my daughter’s generation, they were very active in moving along the social change that would result in equal citizenship stature for men and women.” Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court

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SWEET DREAMS, Baby

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