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June 1, 2009
Thereís nothing as good as farm fresh eggs, except tender ripe corn, cooked on the cob, or beefsteak tomatoes still warm from the sun sliced and sprinkled lightly with salt, or just baked peach pie surrounded by old fashioned, ice cream, home made from scratch.

Thereís nothing as good as the fragrance of lilac, or roses, or lavender, or carnation, or orchid, unless itís the essence of cedar and cinnamon wafting upon a fresh salt sea breeze, or bedding thatís been dried on a sunny laundry line, or yeast bread still in the oven, and bacon sizzling in a skillet.