Go West Chapter One~Ellie

3 Aug

I was having fun with my cousins from Georgia over the weekend and didn’t have a chance to  collaborate with DiVoran on her regular Monday post. So I thought it would be fun to share with you what else she has been up to. As well as blogging and poetry, DiVoran is also an author of Christian fiction. She has been writing a serial  western romacne novel and a new chapter is posted each week on Rebekah Lyn Books. PLUS she creates orginal art work for each chapter! If you like this excerpt be sure to read the other chapters~Onisha

Go West

By DiVoran Lites

Chapter One


Elizabeth Morgan, riding backward, looked out the train window at a sign that said, Clifton. It was here she hoped to find a plan and purpose for her life. As she stood, she studied the Victorian-style train station with several men milling on the boardwalk. They wore ragged clothes, battered hats, and down-at-the-heel boots. For a moment, she tried to imagine them dressed in well-fitting woolen suits with homburgs or fedoras on their heads. Then shaking her head, she gave it up. All the imagining in the world would not make this burg into downtown Chicago, and that was fine with her. She needed a new life, maybe she’d find it here.

Smoothing kiss curls over each cheek, she straightened her narrow-brimmed cloche. As she reached toward the shelf for her tapestry carpet bag, an arm went over her head and carefully lifted it down. She looked up at a tall man with silver-blond hair and gray eyes that were the kind that turned blue on a sunny day. He now held the carpetbag in one hand and a deep brown Boss of the Prairie Stetson in the other. She didn’t know yet who he was, but she knew from working in her grandparents’ department store back home, that he had good taste in hats. His frayed khaki shirt, however, looked as if it were part of a uniform from the Great War.

via Go West Chapter One~Ellie.

Granny~Part 4

2 Aug


Judy Wills




In my previous musing, I spoke about my Granny’s gift of sewing. She was a master at it. And all on her old Singer treadle sewing machine.


Back in those days, we girls wore either hoops under our full skirts, or lots and LOTS of crinolines, to make our skirts “stand out.” Some of the things that Granny made for me fell in the category of very full – probably a full circle – skirt made from heavy felt. I loved them all. I remember a fuschia skirt,


a turquoise skirt,


and especially a red skirt that was made for a 1955 Christmas parade in which I took part. I was in Junior High School then (equivalent to Middle School these days). It was named Jefferson Junior High School, and our colors were red and white. Here’s a picture of a bunch of us girls in our red and white, spelling out “Jefferson.”


Granny also made a taffeta dress for me for Easter in 1955. My, I was such a young thing then!


Granny had a bit of a green thumb – which she did NOT pass along to me! Her favorite was the African Violet, and she had many small pots of them in the kitchen corner window. She had a real knack of caring for them, and enjoyed all the different colors of the plants she had.


Occasionally Granny would travel back to Texas for a visit with her sisters (Loa and Lillie).



Since Aunt Jessie was the working one in the family, Granny went alone. Here is a picture of her at the original Albuquerque airport.



Notice the Pueblo Indian architecture (adobe) as well as the vigas protruding from the building (horizontal roof beams made of logs, usually protruding from the side of the house). We had those on our house, as well, although I think ours were more decorative than useful. When we were children-into-teens, we would go out to the airport, sit on the stone wall and watch the airplanes come and go. The original landing strip was also used by Kirtland AFB, so we got to see quite a few airplanes. And it was spectacular at night! That was also a great place to watch the July 4th fireworks!

I also mentioned Granny’s great sense of humor. Here is an example from DiVoran – my wonderful sister-in-law (love), and published author:

I recall one thing Granny said that tickled my funny bone. We were all in the kitchen washing and drying dishes, except Jessie. I had just put a plate I had dried quickly in the cupboard and Granny reached up and touched it, then she said, “Hmm, feels like it sweated during the night.”

Another thing, I asked my mother why she thought Jessie didn’t help with the dishes like all the other women did. I don’t think Mother’s answer held much water. She said it was because Jessie worked every day just like the men did and that exempted her. At the time, I bought it, but thinking back, who else worked their forty a week? Your mom and mine.

I loved my Granny, and memories of her still delight me.


~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~






It’s the Voice You Don’t Want to Hear

31 Jul

From the Heart
Louise Gibson

Louise Gibson

The spiritual world is like a classroom.
Love?, or Fear?
Which voice are you going to listen to?
Which voice do you want to hear?

Our spirit is the part of us
that is drawn to hope-It will not give in to despair.
It is the life of us.
God’s promise is always there.

What is the difference between others betraying us
and us betraying ourself?
When your own choices harm you-
you are betraying yourself.

That is why we hold the Lord’s prayer
deep in our heart.
Begin your day with our Savior.
He promises never to leave or forsake us.
From your heart He will never depart.

The Light Bulb

29 Jul

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

Bill Cross Plane

Last night when I got up to get a glass of water, I noticed the small night light in our China cabinet was out.  I made a mental note to replace the bulb in the morning.  This morning I located a new bulb and went to the cabinet to replace the bulb.  To my surprise, as soon as I touched the bulb it came on.  I loosened the bulb and tightened it again and it worked fine.  Then it came to me that this was another perfect analogy of how our all-powerful God works in my life.


Somehow that small light bulb had worked loose (thru vibration or a thin layer of corrosion) and was not making contact with its electrical socket (power source).  If I’m not careful I can end up like that small light bulb.   In the midst of my busy life, for one reason or another, and by my own choice, I can slip away from my personal relationship with God, and end up depending on my own power to live my life.  Then, the next thing I know I find myself in some kind of a problem and wonder how I got there.  When I finally realize what I have done, I have to make another choice; to ask God to forgive me for my foolishness and for not listening to Him, and for Him to put me back on the right track.  That’s when I am plugged back into His almighty power and I can be enlightened once again with His wisdom, knowledge and understanding. What a blessing that is!


I often ask myself “Why do I muddle around in confusion and frustration when I know God has the answer or direction I need?”  For some reason it seems like He is the last Person I turn to for the answer to a problem.  And there I go again, losing His almighty power source to help me live the kind of life He created me live; a life of love, joy, peace and rest.

Proverbs 3-5

You might enjoy Proverbs 3:5 The Message version

Washing Dishes

27 Jul

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and ArtistI have almost always washed dishes, sometimes I had help, sometimes not. When I was a child, Mother called on me when the restaurant got too busy for her, Dad, and a waitress, if we had one, to handle. My brother washed dishes with me. Usually I washed and he dried. To amuse ourselves we bickered or stacked the dishes in the drainer as high as possible stopping just before they began to topple. We called it making castles. Our parents paid us 25¢ an hour. One day I was at my friend, Patricia Franklin’s house for supper. I loved the Franklins, a big catholic family with five boys and one girl. The girl, Patricia, was my best friend, and I had a crush on one of her brothers. He didn’t have a crush on me.

Usually, Patricia and I washed the dishes after supper when I was there. The Franklins 1obviously had other arrangements when I wasn’t. On this summer evening, when I went into the kitchen to start on the dishes, I figured somebody would follow. To my surprise, no one came. I washed all the dishes by myself and left them to dry piled majestically into a fine castle. I got a lot out of the experience. For one thing I was pleased that my skills were such that someone besides my own family needed me. For another, being so responsible make me feel like a grown-up. The third thing was that I felt I was expressing my regard for the family and they would all pleased with me. I don’t know whether that ever happened, because I’m not sure they knew they had a martyr in their midst. Of course, their being Catholic, I wouldn’t be even a minor martyr compared to the ones the had read about. But I felt good about myself, anyhow.

A restaurant customer once said I was the chief cook and bottle-washer. I couldn’t claim the first part-but the second part was true. I have been washing dishes for 70 years. Every country on this globe has people who can make the same claim (if they have dishes, and more to the point, if they have food).

Now there’s only Bill and me. Together we keep the kitchen moderately clean. I’m glad I have things like that to do. I heard a story once from a friend who visited a rehab center. She gave a talk and after refreshments, one of the elderly women took her plastic cup over to a sink where she slowly and lovingly washed and dried it. You see, she had no home to care for anymore. I’m glad I have jobs to do even now. I thank God for dishes and for everything that goes with them. Also I thank him for my electric dishwasher, even though one of us has to wash them by hand before we put them in or they won’t come out clean.

Granny~Part 3

26 Jul


Judy Wills



I’ve mentioned before that Granny was a great seamstress. I don’t know whether or not she made Mother’s wedding dress, but it is quite possible.


And remember – she and both of her daughters (my Mother and Aunt Jessie) all three worked in the Rochester Handkerchief Factory in San Antonio for a number of years. So she was well-versed in the art of sewing, and with a machine.

I know that she was partly responsible for teaching me to sew fiesta dresses (please see my post on December 9, 2012).

I remember my brother, Bill, telling me how she would make Western shirts for him. Seems she had the pattern for a long-sleeved western-style shirt on hand. He would go to Sears or Penney’s or a fabric store where they had fabric by the bolt, and he would purchase 3½ yards of fabric of his choice. He would take it to Granny, and she would sew up that shirt in no time. Bill had a “kit” that enabled them to anchor pearl topped snaps on the shirt. They would get together; Granny would mark off where the snaps were to go; and Bill would make the attachment. Fun time for both of them, and lots of shirts in his closet.

Remember now……Granny had an old treadle Singer sewing machine.

She did all this work on that machine. I seem to remember it was “commercial grade” – they probably purchased it from the handkerchief factory. I believe in later years they removed the treadle and upgraded to an electric motor. But I’m not sure about that. One thing I really do remember about that machine is that, off to the left side, was a long button drawer. And it had tons of buttons in there – all kinds, colors and shapes.


I would spend hours just sifting through those buttons. It was such fun for a child. (Don’t be alarmed – I never swallowed any!)

Bill told me that Granny also made him an “Ike” jacket, which was very trendy during that time.


She made it out of red corduroy – and he loved it! He had a pair of red corduroy pants to go with it, and he wore that outfit to school. He thinks that is what captured DiVoran’s attention after they had met. Interesting story, huh?

I also remember that she made a turquoise velveteen jumper. I wore it a lot.7

She also made a turquoise wool coat for me –


and later a blue wool coat. And along with those, was a turquoise bathrobe. Think I might like the color turquoise?

~~~~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~~~~

Hurry…and Wait!

24 Jul

From the Heart

Louise Gibson

Louise Gibson

Why do we discipline ourselves to always be on time for appointments
when we know in our heart we will have to wait?

To me it is a matter of courtesy.
When we die, I know God will meet us at the Pearly Gate.
He is a God of perfection.
I don’t expect him to make us wait.

Jesus bids us “Come unto me all ye who are weary and heavy laden
and I will give you rest.”
Such welcome words to a tired soul. It’s true.
I’ve already put him to the test.

Do you have a problem?
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Free yourself of worry.
You’ll find true peace and comfort there.

Our Greatest Fear

22 Jul Featured Image -- 7360

Old Things R New:

Due to technical issues, Bill’s post won’t be available today. I am sharing this personal story and advice written by my FB friend, Mark Myers

Originally posted on Life in Portsong:

What is your greatest fear? What is it for you – that thing that gives you shudders just to think of it? Thunderstorms? Dogs, snakes, spiders? Heights or maybe confined places? Perhaps it is something psychological like public speaking, failure, or being alone. Most of us are afraid of death. Everyone has something they fear in varying degrees – even Chuck Norris.

Your list of fears might be long or it might be short.

While I don’t love snakes, I know my greatest fear is being eaten by a shark. What are the odds, right? I go to the beach one week out of the year and stay in the surf. Oh, I wade out and play. But I always I keep a wary eye on the horizonjaws-poster and make sure there is at least one person bobbing between me and the deep blue. I call him chum and he is…

View original 782 more words

Tips to live a satisfied life. | Janet Perez Eckles

21 Jul

Tips to live a satisfied life. | Janet Perez Eckles.

The missing rings~Part 1

20 Jul

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and ArtistIf you’ve ever had anything stolen, you have probably experienced the emotions and imaginations that plague victims everywhere. I always kept my engagement and wedding ring (which had been fused together by a jeweler fifty-seven years ago) on the top of my dresser on a solid glass ring holder along with a dinner ring left to me by Bill’s mother. The rings had a history together. Bill’s aunt gave him the diamonds for my rings when he wanted to get engaged. Later Bill’s mother wanted new rings and asked if I’d mind if she had hers made like mine, only in yellow gold. I didn’t mind. We didn’t even live in the same town any more. After Bill’s dad died, his mother again changed rings, only this time, she took the diamonds from her engagement and wedding rings and had them made into a beautiful dinner ring. When she went home to Heaven she left them to me. I’d been wearing both for many years, but only wore them when I went out so that they didn’t get in my way when I cooked, typed, or washed my hands.

One day, I was rushing to go somewhere on time and because the rings were always the last thing I put on, I reached for them. They weren’t there, but Bill’s wedding ring, which I sometimes wear was. I thought I recalled hearing something fall down behind the dresser, so I knew they were safe. I put Bill’s ring on and left. I figured I would find them later. Better yet, I would wait until somebody big, strong, and younger than us came over and could move the dresser. Bill has shoulder issues and my chiropractor doesn’t want me scooting heavy things.

That day I was having lunch with my daughter, but I decided not to tell her about the rings because I’d soon have them in hand and there was no need to worry her. It took several days before I even told Bill. The next morning while I was out for my walk he moved the dresser to look for them. They weren’t there. I moved the dresser myself to look for them, which was not too smart.

I then started looking in earnest. I looked all through the house, went through the dresser drawers. They needed to be organized, anyway. I looked through my few purses, checked every pocket of every garment I own, and thoroughly searched the car. No rings anywhere.

wedding-ring on satin jpg


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