Archive by Author

Screech Owl

6 Jul

My Take

DiVoran Lites

I saw a screech owl no bigger than a pint carton standing in our birdbath the other day. I’m so glad they have come back. We had them in the back when we first moved into our new house in Florida. 

When we first moved to Titusville, where Bill had a job at the Space Center, we were thrilled with the quietness and the jungle-like terrain. Driving into town on Highway 50 in our Corvair, we crossed the St. John’s River in a rainstorm. It was raining water all right, but it also seemed to be raining frogs. They were all over the highway, and we could see them leaping in the headlights and hear them crunching as we ran over them. There was nothing else we could do. The heavy rain, the darkness all around, and hoping we were getting closer to our destination, but not knowing where overwhelmed us. Fortunately, our two children, one three years old and one eighteen months, were sound asleep in the back seat. 

We finally landed at a motel reserved for us by the company and dragged our bedraggled selves in for a rest. We were in the motel for three weeks while daddy went to work, and mother established a routine with the little ones. We walked down to the river early in the morning. The heat and humidity were like nothing we had ever experienced or even knew existed. Then we went back to the motel room and read books and played with toys until lunch, blessedly they had air conditioning. We took naps in the afternoon after the fierce and loud thunderstorms. We hadn’t experienced that kind of weather either.

It was July when we got into our house. It’s a fine house, but at the time, we had no AC.  The only times we got cool were when we laid out flat on the stone terrazzo floor, stepped into a cold shower, or took our supper down to the river where a pleasant breeze blew. 

There were many frogs at our house, too. They covered the sliding glass doors and were all over the cement pad that would one day become a full-sized patio. These were green tree frogs; sometimes, they were called tree peepers. You could compare their color with a Key lime, which is small and bright. Golden racing stripes ran down both sides. I figured it was genuine gold because why would God use anything else? 

We lived in Imperial Estates, which was surrounded by scrub and pines. At night when we were sleeping with our windows open, we heard the castanet sound of cicadas so loudly we sometimes put our pillows over our heads. But sometimes we heard other creatures, too. Every evening we listened to the nocturnal Chuck Will’s Widow whose call had three notes. The call is unique, but that was a long time ago, and apparently, all the Chuck Will’s Widows from around here have gone someplace else now. 

Another thing we heard in the night was the baying of hunting dogs in the woods behind our house. Oh, yes, it was a lovely jungly place to be, and we loved it and love it still. To me, the calls of the screech owls were long and varied.

None of the other birds or animals stayed around with that owl there. They are voracious. They have many ways of sounding out. Some of them sound like a cry of agony. It scared us all when we first heard it in the night, but then we asked some old-timers what it was, and they said, “screech owls.” Once we knew, we slept right through it. I like knowing that the screech owls’ nest in hollows in trees and sometimes in the larger woodpecker holes. It reminds me of the stories I read as a child where everybody lived in hollow trees and holes in the ground. 

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Red-Shouldered Hawk

29 Jun

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo by Melody Hendrix

For years I didn’t pay much attention to the birds in our yard and around the neighborhood. Then one day, our friends who lived on a marsh invited us over to admire the hawk nest in a big tree near their driveway. I was thrilled to see one of the parents settle down on the nest to feed the babies.  When our friends moved away, we didn’t think much more about hawks. That is until our Pastor, Bill began to track a pair of courting hawks on the church campus. 

As it happens, we live within the same mile square the church is in, so soon, we began to watch and hear the hawks over our house, too. They were so busy flying around calling to each other or doing air aerobics that we couldn’t ignore them. And when the nestlings grew big enough to leave the nest, we enjoyed watching them fly over or set down on the top of a lamppost. 

About eighteen days before incubation, the adult hawks go into a frenzy of happiness. They become singers and dancers in earnest.  Their loud, short cries fill the air.  One soars straight up then zooms back into the airspace of the other. They chase across the sky, calling as if they are telling the whole world about God’s goodness.

The first time I saw a hawk standing nonchalantly under an oak tree in someone’s yard, I was startled, but he wasn’t. Yesterday, one flew low, then zoomed in and perched on the lamppost in front of our house. He sat quietly with his back to me, and I think he listened as I told him how beautiful he was. 

Pixabay

Hawks are too large to take a bath in a home birdbath, but one afternoon I looked out in the back yard and saw a Red-shouldered hawk perched on our chain-link fence. I felt a bit sorry for him because it was raining, but as I watched, my sympathy turned to good cheer. He didn’t need a bath; he needed a rain shower. He opened his wings and flapped them, and he shook himself vigorously. That was when I thought again about God’s provision for all His creatures and remembered the Louis Armstrong song, “What a Wonderful Day.” 

Pixabay

Learn more about hawks at All about Red-Shouldered Hawks

What a Wonderful World

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Mourning Dove

22 Jun

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photos by Melody Hendrix

I have a confession. I love all wild birds, but I had a mix-up in my mind about doves. We have two kinds that come to our yard day after day, week after week. They never fail to visit, and we are so used to them that we don’t have much to say about them. I guess you could say we ignore them or we take them for granted. Unlike the painted bunting, they stay all year. The only difference between the two types is that the mourning dove is bigger than the other one. 

My problem was I like bright colors on birds and copious amounts of song, and that’s why I never gave the doves much attention.  Of course, if we didn’t have so many beautiful birds on our feeders and using our water bowls, I would appreciate even the doves.  

So, when I looked up doves on Bible Gateway, I discovered that God loves them very much, all of them. Noah loved his dove when it came back to the ark after being set loose to find some land. He took her gently into his hand and put her in her safe, wooden cage. Seven days later, he sent her out again. You’d think that if the dove had found a perch for the sole of her foot, she would have stayed there. But she didn’t.  She was faithful and went the extra mile to make Noah happy. 

I can understand why the people kept doves for food and why they used them for the required sacrifices. The book of Leviticus has nine references to dove sacrifice. But one-day, Jesus turned over the chairs of the sellers of sacrificial doves. I always thought he did that because he didn’t want people doing business in the synagogue on the Sabbath. And maybe that is the only reason Jesus did it. Reading about doves, though, has convinced me that it meant something else to our Lord as well. By this time, he knew he was going to be the last and ultimate sacrifice, and there would be no more need for doves or cattle or sheep in exchange for forgiveness of sin. He knew he was the only sacrifice ever to be required. When He went to the cross to die, he went so that God would adopt us. When we acknowledge our sinful nature, God sets us free to join God’s family. That is the greatest wonder and privilege a human can ever know. 

From the list I was looking at, the last reference in the Bible about doves was John 2:14 that meant no more sacrifices,  no more doves, and nothing more killed in the name of the law.  

Isn’t it wonderful that all of nature teaches us about God and his love for us?

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Northern Bobwhites

15 Jun

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Backyard Birds

To my surprise, I’ve discovered that 130 different breeds of quail grace our beautiful earth. 

Where we live, near Cape Kennedy, close to the Indian River, the quails are Northern Bobwhites. I also learned that Bobwhites need the same habitat as Florida Scrub-Jays. While the Jays build their nests in low shrubs and bushes, the  Bob-Whites weave their nests on the ground. 

Quail are like human tribes that live together, work together, and travel together. Sometimes they sleep in a circle with their tails toward the middle of the ring. That reminds me of western movies that show wagon trains circle up for the same reason.

Years ago, we heard Bob-Whites calling out from the scrub habitat behind our house. We have not heard them for a long time, however, so we were glad to see a juvenile quail wander into the yard and start eating the seeds other birds had tossed to the ground from the feeder. Suddenly we saw a flurry of feathers and surmised the juvenile was in trouble. It got even worse when we saw a blurry show of feathers and figured the worried mother wanted to teach her offspring not to go off on his own.  

Our environmentalist son once told a story about quails where he and his wife take their morning walk. Its a place where there are few houses and many fields. One day they saw baby quails inside a field fence chirping and calling. Then they heard the two-note song of a mature quail. The small birds scurried off as fast as he could go. I doubt if those babies got into much trouble, though, they just wanted to be with their tribe. That was accomplished by staying in touch and honoring whoever was looking after them. 

A Bible verse comes to mind:

“Honor your father and your mother so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” 

Exodus 20:12  

Photo credit Pixabay

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Mockingbirds

8 Jun

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo Pixabay

Mockingbirds live in the lower half of the United States, going a little north to breed. We have always had them in our subdivision in Florida, which is semi surrounded by woods. When I put on my white hat and sunglasses and take up my trekking poles to go on a walk, I usually come near a mockingbird or two.

Many times, they seem to follow me and then fly a bit ahead to the top of a low tree to stage a concert. One day I stayed to the end of the beautiful music, marveling how many different songs the Mockingbird knew. The research I’ve read majors on their singing, and I major on it too. During such a song, they will be sitting like an angel at the top of a Christmas Tree.

What I love, is to see one lift his wings and pop up off the tree and quickly land again. It seems he is so full of happiness that he cannot contain it. That is to me, a sign that God gives his winged creatures joy just as he does His people.  

I believe God gave Mockingbirds the gift of singing as an example for his sons and daughters on earth. He wants all his people to love music as much as He does. He wants us to sing and play instruments as praise to him and all He does for us. Our Lord likes to hear us making praise noises, whether we can sing or not. When we read the Bible, we see how much God loves songs. 

All about Mockingbirds

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Psalm 100 The Passion Translation (TPT)
Praise God100 A poetic song for thanksgiving
“1 Lift up a great shout of joy to the Lord!
Go ahead and do it—everyone, everywhere!
As you serve him, be glad and worship him.
Sing your way into his presence with joy!

 

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Jaybirds

1 Jun

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photos by Melody Hendrix

We have so many kinds of birds in Florida that it seems as if the whole state is a huge aviary. We have two kinds of jaybirds. Blue Jay and Florida Scrub-Jay. There are two major differences between them. One is scrappy, and the other is easy to tame with a peanut. The third difference is a matter of life and death.

At times up to 20% of Blue Jays migrate and come back some other time. The oldest Blue Jay on record was 26 years old.  Scientists found him in the same area where he had been born and tagged. He still wore his tag. 

Blue Jays get around and Scrub Jays stay in one place all their lives. Blue Jays can live in a variety of habitats, but Scrub jays must have a scrub area to live in. That means they nest close to the ground or in trees and shrubs that are no higher than six feet. If you walk through it, you walk on sand. The Eastern prickly pear cactus grows in certain spots. In other words, it’s a very dry habitat. It has low scrub trees and bushes. The territory needs to have a burn at least every ten years so that it doesn’t become too tall and tangled for the Scrub Jay’s needs. In former days, lightening took care of the burning chore, but now the environmental people usually do controlled fires. The birds fly away from the property and come back when the scrub has cooled. We are so blessed to have 44 acres of Scrub Jay habitat behind our house where no other houses will be built, and the Scrub Jays will thrive. (I hope).

Florida is becoming built up, however, which in turn reduces Scrub Jay habitat. The environmental people try to keep up with how much land builders can use, but much of Scrub Jay territory falls to construction until there is no place to nest and the Scrub Jays must expire. Our earth has approximately thirteen million jays, but at a recent count, only about 6,000 are Florida Scrub-Jays. 

Except for some brilliant and hopeful environmentalists, The Florida Scrub-Jay is still in danger of losing habitat and changing their status from Threatened to Endangered. The next step after that is Extinction.

God loves all the nature he created and the beautiful things he made, He did not do it for Himself but for His children so that we can thrive, enjoy His ongoing creativity, and learn from it. 

Then God said, “And now we will make human beings; they will be like us and resemble us. They will have power over the fish, the birds, and all animals, domestic and wild, large and small.” Genesis 1:26

Thank you, Lord, we deeply appreciate the works of your hands and pray that we may do a good job of looking after all the gifts you have put on earth for us to take care of and enjoy. 

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Cardinal

25 May

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photos by Melody 

You can imagine our astonishment when we moved to Florida from California and saw our first Cardinal. Males the color of fire engines immediately caught our attention. It took a bit longer to acknowledge the beauty of the females in their soft orange and taupe finery and their orange bills. 

After we had lived in our home in Florida for a few years, we decided to make our back yard into a refuge for birds and butterflies, and that was when we began to observe their behavior more closely. We heard the sweet and clear calls of the birds. I’ve read since they have 16 different calls and songs. Last year a female cardinal built a small nest close to our front porch. When it was finished, she patiently sat on the eggs and the male brought her food day after day. Later in the process, he sat on the nest to give her a few short breaks. 

The babies hatched in twelve days. The parents stayed close, one watching while the other gathered food. The babies grew until the nest seemed way too small for them. Then one day they were gone. Oh, no, they weren’t ready! Did something get them? It seemed a great loss and we felt terrible that we had not been able to take care of them.

The next day I went into the back yard, and there I saw two small brownish birds clinging to the stems of the jasmine vine that covered the back fence.  Having seen them in the nest, we knew these were our baby cardinals! In a few days we began to see their parents teach them how to fly, how to take a bath, and best of all how to sing and call. It seems to me all the world sings in one way or another, and it tells me that our Lord God loves all kinds of music. I know he loves to hear it from his beloved people like you and me. 

“All I need to do is to call to you, singing to you, the praiseworthy God.

When I do, I’m safe and sound in you.”

The Passion Translation Psalm 18:3 

Hear the songs of the cardinal

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

ROSEATE SPOONBILL

18 May

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo by Melody Hendrix

As we drive through Cape Canaveral, which is also a National Wildlife Refuge, we spot a single Roseate Spoonbill in a ditch, with water up to her knees.  This is the first juvenile Roseate Spoonbill we’ve ever seen. She bends to run her beak through the water in order to scoop a beak full of Roseate Spoonbill food.

We drive past that spot frequently and at first, we felt sorry for the small bird, because she was alone. Being the passenger in the car, I see her almost every time we go by. Lately she has been with a flock of half-a-dozen water-grazing White Ibis. I spot her immediately in the group by the splash of deep-rose color on her wings.  It’s good for her not to be alone anymore. Rosie now has a family. 

“God sets the lonely in families…”

Psalm 68:6 World English Bible

Our Day on the Farm

11 May

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Almost everyone has a deep desire for human contact! We hadn’t seen our married daughter and our married son in a long time nor their spouses whom we love. We kept in touch with Zoom, the phone, and email. It all worked well, but we were thrilled when we got a phone call to meet the four of them at Shedd’s U-Pick farm. We would do the sunflower maze. They gave us the address and said we’d meet at the farm at 10:00 A. M. on Sunday when we would normally be at church if the church were open. The digital map said it would take 26 minutes up Highway 1 to get there. 

Bill and I got there first. It was a four-acre maze full of sunflowers. Some were tall, but most came only up to our waists. There was no chance of getting lost, especially when our daughter’s tall husband led the way.

 We walked in joy for over an hour as happy as we could be. No one wore a mask in our party or any other. The air was fresh with a cool breeze and looking up, we saw a large flock of starlings flying over the field many times, tweeting zooming up and down. At first, I thought it was two different kinds of birds because they were mixed colors some black and some gray. The latter was smaller. But on second thought I knew it was males and females.

 I don’t know why they stayed for such a long time. Maybe it was the open space over the maze, or maybe they enjoyed seeing the people as much as the people enjoyed seeing them. A drone hovered causing curiosity, then it landed in the hands of a man right there in the maze. Everyone had their idea of why it was there, but no one knew for sure. 

Our son bought each of us ladies three sunflowers of our choice. That was how they came at checkout.  Some were deep reddish-brown and some yellow. The bees were busy on them sometimes two at a time. Our son practically begged us to ask for the hardest ones to get to because as he said he likes to push his way through tall vegetation in a field. 

Beautiful children abounded. Everyone looked so fresh and pretty and you could feel the love the visitors had for each other. When it was time to leave, we bought a pint of Orange Blossom honey made by the bees that belong to the farm. 

Our next stop was the National Cemetery on Highway one. Our son had never been there, and I think he wished to honor our son-in-law by asking to see where his mother’s ashes were stored. 

Our son-in-law and our daughter cared for his mother in their home with the aid of caregivers. For five years. The couple was able to keep their jobs and bring in people from hospice because even though she was not physically terminal it is the law for people with dementia to be able to receive help from Hospice.  Our two managed to get out for an occasional football game or breakfast at the port. Once in a while, they could visit us to help with our computer questions. Because his dad was at the National Cemetery, his mother was too. 

It’s the most beautiful cemetery I have ever seen with rolling hillocks of grass, birds, and our beautiful Florida sky. Someday… when we fly off to Heaven, Bill and I will leave our ashes there. 

Our daughter got one of her sunflowers from their car to put in a provided metal vase, daughter-in-love gave one of hers and I gave one of mine. We discussed the whole subject of being there. Our Son-in-law looked up the different crosses and other small carvings on the marble fronts of the niches in the Columbarium.  There are 72 to choose from. We took the opportunity to tell them which one we liked best.

Finally, we came to our house in Titusville. We had enough room on our porch to socially space us. We talked for a good long time.  Billy said it was a Mother’s Day gift. It was thoroughly wonderful. Fortunately, they were vigilant to watch that I didn’t accidentally grab one of them for a hug. It was a Mother’s Day to remember.

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Here’s Thea

4 May

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 Scribe: DiVoran

Meow. How is everybody on this beautiful spring day? I’m going to try to tell Ma what’s going on in my life so she can write it down. Ma says that most cats sleep two-thirds of the time. I wonder if most kitties have as many places to sleep as I do. I like to be close to Ma, but I don’t like for her to pick me up. I’m a rescue cat, so maybe someone scared or hurt me picking me up.  I sleep way down on the end of Ma’s bed every night where I won’t get squashed or kicked, except for once in a while in her sleep. I might be a therapy cat ‘cause when she makes that snoring sound or moves around too much, I step onto her chest and settle down with my whiskers in her face. She wakes up real quick cause my whiskers tickle her face. 

Usually, she wants to sleep longer, but I want to go out on the porch. If she won’t let me out, I meow loud enough to wake up her Bill. She doesn’t think that is nice of me, so she gets up to let me out onto the porch.  You wouldn’t believe how purrty it is out there at night, especially when the sky is lighted up with a big yellow ball. She doesn’t hardly ever get upset with me, but I got a little slap on my rump the other day when I climbed the new animal-proof screen she bought to keep me from ripping the old one when I climbed it. She told me she was so sorry for the slap, but it wasn’t much, and I believed her. I don’t think she’ll do that again. It makes her too sad.

A Cuban Tree Frog got inside the porch one time and I ate it. It tasted so bad I got sick. I’ve also tasted a few lizards that she doesn’t know about. But I get a whole can of cat food and it takes me all day to eat it, so I don’t usually get too hungry. I do like Greenies. And I really love cat grass. I think it’s a kind of food that cats sometimes like. I feel I must have some every day, but Ma says it costs too much at the pet store. She has been growing some in boxes in the yard. When I see her going outside, I jump on a footstool and wait for her to come back with a bouquet of green grass. She holds it tight in her fingers and I tilt my head and close one eye to bite off the grass. 

If she doesn’t have grass when she comes back in, I turn my headlight yellow eyes on her. If she’s too busy to get it for me, she feels bad about that too.

Now she’s growing another crop of cat-grass in a heavy pot that she and Bill can carry onto the porch.

She finally decided to grow a crop I could eat by myself without pulling the grass out by the roots. I’ve tasted every plant in the house and on the porch.

She knew she didn’t have any that poison ones. Nothing makes me happy like a bouquet of home-grown cat grass, except maybe when we play with the plush mouse on a leash after supper. 

Oh, guess what? We have a couple of rabbits that come into our yard. Our yard is safe because we don’t put poison on it, but it isn’t nice grass like my cat grass, it’s tiny plants with tiny flowers. I heard somebody call them weeds one time, but Ma says Florida isn’t supposed to have lush yards. She says the little flowers are a beautiful groundcover and they take care of themselves. Anyhow, about the rabbits, through the porch screen I got to watch them chasing each other around in the yard. Some people think cats shouldn’t be confined to a house and porches, but Ma says that outdoor cats don’t live long, and she wants me around for the rest of her life. Her son-in-law said he would take care of me when she takes off for Heaven. But I hope that’s a long time from now. 

That’s all for now. 

Meow and Meow,

Thea

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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