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Here Kitty Kitty Episode Six

17 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

On Monday, Thea and I go out the French doors and onto the tiled and enclosed patio. I sit down at the table with my Kindle Fire 2 to use Gateway Bible for devotions. Thea, paws on the plant shelf under the screen, gazes to see where all the noises are coming from.

 

 

 

Nature sings in all its glory, and Thea can hardly be still. She then hunkers down and stares at the sidewalk below. I wonder if one of the black racers that protect our property against Cuban Tree Frogs is slithering by. I watched one eat a whole frog once. Gross! The frogs are what we call exotics, and since they destroy the beautiful green frog natives and produce off-spring readily, we are not put-offwhen we see a creature that keeps their numbers in check.

One squirrel chases another up a telephone pole. They jump on the metal roof making a clatter like tree limbs falling and Thea hunkers down. She hides under the plant shelf where she can see, but not be seen by the Florida cardinals who are bringing their spotted adolescents to the feeders for the first time.

Ginger dog runs panting on the other side of the privacy fence, another strange but intriguing sound. Lizards run up the screen almost as if they are begging for attention. I imagine that for Thea, the whole experience full of suspense like would be for us. Fear playssee-saw with curiosity as she leaps onto the shelf, then down, then up again. She seems so new and innocent that I wonder where our silky tuxedo cat hasbeen all her two years of life. Nighttimes on the porchshelistens to cicadas and hears a chuck-wills-widow (like a whippoorwill) calling its nighttime song.

A few days later we’re on the porch again and Thea is busy near the basket in the corner. She’s after something. I look upbut go back to drawing. It must be a lizard,I think. We usually try to take them out before a cat gets them, but this time, I believe it’s too late. The next time I look up, Thea is proudly carrying a small dead Cuban Tree Frog to where I can see it. It has turned blackish. She taps the critter then licks her white paw clean and taps it again hoping to see it move.

I get the broom and dust-pan and dump the frog into a bunch of ferns that grow around one of our trees. Later Bill asked what I did with it. When I told him, he said, “That’s where I put everything that I don’t know what else to do with, too. No wonder the ferns are so well fertilized.”

 

 

 

We’re not heartless, but we’ve lived in Florida a long time and our environmentalist son keeps us apprised of what’s going on in the world of nature. Thea is part of nature and as a cat she is considered invasive or exotic. A single cat has been known to kill all the birds on a small island. However, Thea is an indoor cat. The chances areshe has always been one. Other reasons she stays in the house and on the porch are: cars, ticks, fleas, feral cats, and poisonous snakes. Sometimes I feel as though I’m keeping her a prisoner, but then I wonder what kind of life it would be for a human-loving kitty to live in a shelter her whole life and not have a family of her own.

 

 

 
Author, Poet and Artist

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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Here Kitty Kitty Episode Five

10 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

Author, Poet and Artist

 

 

This morning I was in the kitchen and Thea started scratching on the rug in the family room instead of on the scratching pad. She’s been doing so well with the pad, but apparently,she forgot it for a moment. Earlier, she went to the pad and scratched and then looked up at me ready for the single treat she getsfor scratching there. I laid the treat on the pad and she ate it. With her eyes and a little murr (meow-purr)she asked for more without having to use the pad again. No. So she went back to scratching and got her treatlegitimately. Cats seem to take a long time to train, so I am thrilled when she shows she’s been watching and listening.

When I heard her scratching on the carpet in the family room which is connected with the kitchen, I said, “NO.” Startled, she collapsed onto her side with one of her paws in the air still scrabbling. She was so startled, I decided that yelling wasn’t the best way.

 

Photo by DiVoran

 

We can’t sleep with cats, we don’t even sleep with each other. We’ve reached the age where sleeping can be difficult sometimes. The first night we let Thea sleep in the converted garage we call the studio, Bill scattered a few treats around the room so she would have something to do and feel more at home. The next morning most of the treats were gone, and the half-fullbag that Bill had hidden under a towel had been sliced and diced. She didn’t quite get to the treats, but we then knew to put the bag away next time.

One or the other of us has been to Petco once a week for food, litter box filler, and treats. I went one day to buy a couple of toys and a small cat tree. While I was there, I met a friend from Book Chat and her daughter and granddaughter. They have a new kitten to add to a mother cat and a grandmother cat. You see, it was this way: the sweet child with the short bob apprenticed at the SPCA for several weeks during the summer and naturally, she fell in love with a kitten, and her dear mother, who loves the animals as much as she does allowedher to adopt it.

 

Photo credit Unsplash

 

Leaving Thea for a minute…don’tworry, she’s right here on the couch in my office sleeping to the sound of computer keys…I will comment on the apprentice programs for children.

We were at Chick Fila last week and four or five 7-11 aged children followed a small woman in a red Chick Fila happily waiting for her to tell them what to do. That was the first time I knew children were getting work training in the summertime. It’s wonderful. Most children are capable of learning a great deal in that way. Oh, how I would have loved either job: animals or a café. Oh well, come to think of it, those were the jobs I had as a child and very satisfying they were, too.

I just picked up Thea and walked through the house with her. She looked up and asked a couple of times with her little murrs what we were doing. Told her were just stretching our legs. She’s back on the couch again, sleeping as though she had never been interrupted.

 

Here Kitty Kitty, Episode Four

3 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photos by DiVoran Lites

 

When we brought Thea home from the SPCA, she was hyper-alert to her new surroundings. It didn’t take her long to hide, but I thought I knew all the cat hiding places. Finally,I found her in a dining room chair fast asleep. She didn’t come out for about five hours. I figured that having been a recent mother caring for kittens, and being in an entirely new place before we got her she was exhausted. For several days she had no desire to eat, drink, or do any of the things eating and drinking are connected with. I worried as if I were the new mother, not her.

 

 

The next task for Thea was to taste a biteof every house plant we had on the back porch shelf. Before she got to a raggedy old poinsettia however, I threw it into the yard trash barrel. Then I cut back the pothos that grew down to the porch floor and started up the French door, because I thought it might be poisonous. I’d never had a cat that was interested in vegetation before, but my neighbor who once hada hobby of taking in stray cats told me I could provide Thea clover if I had any growing. I did and I moved it onto the porch. By now she has her own leaf garden which consistsof clover, catnip, and cat grass.

We’re teaching her to stay off the kitchen counter by crackling a piece of aluminum. I wouldn’t care if she got on the bathroomcounter or even on the porch table (if we weren’t dining outside). I’m not sure she was actually in a home before even though she is two years old.

I got down on the floor to pet her, but when I looked around, she had sprung into my chair. I laughingly told Bill about it, then I looked at her and her expression was so clear. Did I do something wrong?She’s as polite as she can be and she’s trying to please.

That has worked. I bought her a new scratch pad and started getting down and rubbing my own fingernails on it. My nails became quite smooth, and soon Thea picked up the habit. We bought her a cat tree and she can scratch there.

 

 

Bill’s sister, Judy, and her husband, Fred came for a visit on Sunday evening. Thea rubbed their feet, then got on the couch with firstone and then the other to purr and be petted. She included Bill and methen came around the circle tending to each of it a secondand third time. She worked so hard at being a good hostessshe had to take a little nap between the second and third time. She is gaining strength and energy every day, but she is still a champion sleeper and a sweet loving member of the family.

At first, Thea resisted being picked up, but I do love to carry a warm, relaxed creature in my arms, so I picked her up at various times and let her down almost immediately. Eventually, she enjoyed the things she could see from an aerialview.

 

Angel Wings

 

We’re settling in. Two more visitors came and each one fell in love with her. I’m sure it’s true that people live longer when they have a pet to care for. Thea has already become happily energizing, and inspirational to us.

 

Author, Poet and Artist

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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Here, Kitty, Kitty~Episode Three

26 Aug

My Take
DiVoran Lites

 

Photo credit Bill Lites

 

Things change quickly at the SPCA Adoption Center in Titusville, Florida. On Friday afternoon around four o’clock, I had a strong urge to drive over and see what was going on. The center is only two miles from where we live, so the ride was quick. We opened the front door to a packed lobby, and an associate told us it was rush hour. At this time people brought in fostered kittens and sometimes their mothers for adoption. It was also the time that a lot of people stopped by after work before the weekend.

Right away, we met a volunteer named Joe who knew where to take us. He seemed a gentle soul, though a bit shy. He obviously loved animals, and I’m guessing he especially loved cats. We now wanted a cat between one and five years old. Knowing I had my dream cat in mind, Bill left the choice to me.

Joe took us into a room and allowed me to open a cage containing a black and white cat. She seemed shy but sweet. When I stopped petting her she retreated to the back of the cage leaving me with the feeling that she didn’t expect to be taken home-ever. I felt terrible about leaving her, but we needed to look around a bit more. Joe took us into a room with six female cats in the age range we were looking for. These were the tired and stressed mothers of kittens now playing wildly in another room.

Suddenly, a beauty came up from the sea of cats like Venus from the shell. This one’s name wasn’t Venus, though it was Athena another name for a goddess. It fit, but we morphed the name into God-given. She rubbed her cheeks on Bill’s shoes and he petted her, then it was my turn. As I stroked her sleek and shining fur she purred loudly, and I fell in love once again. I then realized that the caged cat hadn’t purred at all, but this was to be our last cat and we wanted her to be happy and easy. Our volunteer went to the desk to tell the associate we were ready to adopt.

Soon we were on our way home with Thea, a tuxedo cat with angel wings on her back. We knew we could love Thea and yet honor the memory of Jasmine too. We rejoiced and thanked Abba for her and for all the love and fun we’d have together becoming a family.

 

Photo credit Bill Lites

Photo credit Bill Lites

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Here, Kitty, Kitty: Episode Two

20 Aug

My Take
DiVoran Lites

 

Sunday a week ago we decided to take a drive to Melbourne and look at the cats at the Sheriff’s Animal Shelter. Our informant had told us we might get a free cat because we were seniors. That sounded better than the $85 dollars for rescue cats online. As it happened all the animals at the Sheriff’s were free for the month of August…a back-to-school special.

 

 

We were ready to pay it, if asked, because we knew they had done everything to make the cats and owners happy and healthy. We got Jasmine sixteen years ago and had to pay for her and all her requirements ourselves. We paid for a visit to the vet plus her spaying, rabies and other shots, and a microchip so shecould be found if she got lost. That bill was certainly more than $85.00!

Nowadays rescue vets do it all plus testing for cat diseases, a medical exam, and a free well-visit to the vet within thirty days of adoption.

We had a good drive down south and had, in fact, discussed making a four hour round trip to Ft. Lauderdale because they seemed to have so many choices at “Abandoned Pets,” down there.

We still thought we might be looking for kittens and had been told they had many at the Sheriff’s Animal Shelter, but when we arrived only four played in the kitten room. A little girl, about three years old played with the kitty toys while her mother sat on the floor watching. It seemed a happy Sunday afternoon pastime together.

I plucked a dark gray-striped kitten from a tunnel where it was bathing itself. The small one didn’t want to come to me but I picked her up anyway. Suddenly, I realized that part of the reason she had been hiding in the tunnel was because she had probably been handled since the shelter opened that day. I put her back, but immediately one of the associates came saying, “oh there she is, her family is waiting for her.”

 

Photo credit Unsplash

 

We inquired at the desk and the Sheriff’s Department attendant said, “We do have plenty of kittens but they’re all being fostered right now.” She gave me two cards for foster go-betweens and told me I could call them and tell them what I was looking for and they would tell us when kittens and their mothers if they had them, were brought to the shelter.

We came home empty-handed and I got back online.

A few days later we decided we needed the right cat for our lives and that kittens wouldn’t be a good idea because of the constant care required. I emailed a local rescue person and eventually talked on the phone with her. We were going to make an appointment, but the only time in the next week or so when she could see us was at 6:30 that very evening. She lived about half an hour away from us. We studied the cats on the site and thought there were five possibilities.

I felt empathy for this cat lady. Every weekday she drove into Orlando an hour away where she had a full-time job. Around five she returned to Brevard County and met potential owners at her place or at Petco. After that,she was off home to clean kennels and feed her charges. She would get to bed around eleven and get up early the next day to start all over again.

She explained the details about the cats we had picked out. It seemed that each had a major fault. Now those faults may have been truly prohibitive for us, but I kind of thought she might, like any pet-lover, have a hard time letting go of her changes.

“I should tell you about the Siamese I’m going to be working with,” she said. A man had nineteen of them in a 600 square foot apartment that were inner breeding. We’ve got to get them all tested and taken care of. I don’t know how long you can wait, and I don’t know how you feel about Siamese. I don’t have them right now, but I have the others and you can visit them, I hope you won’t mind that I haven’t had time to clean the kennels.”

 

Photo credit Unsplash

 

 

I’d known a few Siamese and realized that many people valued them for their beauty and their general personality. But we said no to that situation. Inthe end, I told her that we wouldn’t be coming after all. She started to persuade, but I felt that she didn’t want to part with any of them. I understood. After the call, I prayed silently for the Lord to draw her and help her know how to live a more peaceful life. Of course, I didn’t have any answers, I just knew I couldn’t live under that kind of stress.

Despite praying for a black and white, or tuxedo cat; I’m dropping my initial requirement. I’m sure Abba will give us the exact one He wants us to have, and if it is none, we will intuitively know and let go of the whole scheme. We thank him for His ever-present grace whether our problems are large or small.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author, Poet and Artist

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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Here, Kitty, Kitty 1

13 Aug

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

Photo credit Unsplash

 

A week ago last Monday, we had to take our 16-year-old, and much-beloved cat, Jasmine, to the vet for euthanasia. She had been terribly ill and although the vet told us she was terminal, we tried everything we could think of to pull her through. We prayed for her comfort and to receive wisdom for ourselves. The vet was right, however, Jasmine’s little body just couldn’t overcome the kidney disease that was ravaging her. We were so sad. She was a sweet and loving kitty and lots of fun to be with. Last fall, when I had a serious operation she spent most of her time sleeping on the bed with me. One of my friends said she guessed that Jasmine felt it was her life’s job to take care of us.

After our kitty was gone, the only thing that pulled us out of the doldrums was to begin planning for another cat. At the time the whole thing seemed complicated and scary, but the thought also gave me joy. Somehow I just knew it was something Jasmine would want for us.

On Tuesday we went to the SPCA Adoption Center so I could meet Catalina, one of the young cats I’d seen online. The kittens were playing in a room of their own, so we went in there first.

 

Photo credit Unsplash

 

Beautiful Catalina was sitting like a queen watching her subjects. She was four months old and much bigger than the rest. I picked her up, but she didn’t purr. Right away she wanted down. She was ready to get into the play-fray, and my stars and garters, she had so much energy I could hardly even think of trying to entertain her alone. I’m a snuggle/cuddle kind of pet mama and am not good at cat games.

At the shelter, I saw a kitten that looked so much like Jasmine I wanted to pick her up and hug her. Immediately I steeled myself to ignore her. Someone might say it was foolish to adopt a cat that only reminded me of different cat. Obviously, caring what other people think is a hard habit to break.

 

Photo credit Unsplash

We requested a guide and a lovely young woman showed us around and told us some of the newest research on kittens and cats. One thing she said was that their true personalities didn’t show until they were several months old. She said that studies have shown that kittens can’t always be counted on to stay as affectionate as they may seem when small. She also said that if you’re going to get kittens you’ll need two so they can play together. That certainly made sense! Two kittens focus on and entertain each other while one can be emotionally closer to a human.

“It will be twice as much trouble,” said Bill. But, I had the perfect comeback (from online)…

“Twice the fun,” I shot back at him. Bill folded like a Japanese fan, but we decided to wait awhile to decide and left the facility.

On Saturday, we had a conversation with a dear relative who is connected with the Sheriff’s Animal Shelter. He says they have plenty of kittens down there and it’s only about a 45-minutedrive. Over the week as I thought about getting two kittens my anxiety grew, but I thought it was only excitement. As we went along I began to wonderif I wanted to commit to taking care of two tiny, fragile kittens and training them for the rest of our lives.

We’ve decided to keep praying and keep looking. I gave the idea of a new companion to the Lord. For me, relinquishment is a necessary step when I want something. Then if it doesn’t come I know it’s not in God’s plan for me and if it does come I know I’m not on my own with it.

Stay Tuned

 

 

 

Author, Poet and Artist

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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Animals at the Train Station Depot

30 Jul

My Take

DiVoran Bowers Lites

 

 

Brownie look alike from Pixabay

 

Animals have been important to our family for as far back as I know.  When we first moved to Westcliffe (the town’s spelling has an e on it, but the school’s does not.) Dad learned by the grapevine that one of the ranchers had some part Border collie pups. He may have offered one to Dad, I don’t know about that.

“Get your money and let’s go, Dad told us.” He believed in paying for what he got and he drove us out to the ranch to pick out a pup. In the barn,we held some soft, wiggly puppies trying to get closer to us. I don’t know how we decided which one to take, but whichever one it was, we ended up calling him Brownie. We’d brought all our earnings from working in the restaurant and around the house. We had killed flies with a swatter to keep the café clean, washed dishes, cleaned off tables, and taken out crates of empty pop bottles to send back to the bottling factory next time the delivery truck came up from Canon City.  We had thirty-five cents. Dad was satisfied and so was the rancher.

 

Clover (Pixabay)

 

A few years later Dad bought each of us a calf so we could get started in the cattle business. My calf’s name was Clover and she was a sweet and pretty little thing. David named his calf, Red,because as a Hereford, that was his color. One morning when I went out to the shed to feed Clover, she was sprawled in the straw not moving or breathing. It was the saddest day of my young life so far. If I ever needed to call up tears for any reason, all I had to do was to remember Clover. Red, however, grew up thinking he was human.

 

Goose (Pixabay)

 

Another time Dad bought a white goose we knew was for Thanksgiving. I suppose Dad meant to take it, all nicely dressed, or undressed, so to speak, so Grandmother could cook it for us. The goose was majestic and tame. We loved her and decided we couldn’t let her become a cooked goose. We opened the shed door and let her out. When Dad noticed that she was gone, he made us go out to look for her. Thinking goose-swan what’s the difference, we ambled down to Grape Creek where the willow bushes grew. We ducked and pushed our way through them until we came to a small woven hut. Inside we saw a pallet, an empty whiskey bottle, and the picture of a lady from another time…but no goose. Dad was cross, but apparently,our misdeed didn’t warrant a spanking.

 

Trail Horses, Pixabay

 

Dad was a restaurateur, a builder, a flyer, and a budding cattleman. He also kept trail horses for the tourists he took up into the mountains to fish in the lakes. We kids also had a horse we kept in the feedlot. I think Dad got him cheap. His name was Yankee and Dad said judging by his teeth he was elderly. Part Shetland pony, he was also small, no match for the quarter horses most people kept. At first, Yankee and I had a hard time getting used to each other. I’d get on and he immediately trotted to the feedlot where he stopped on a dime and looked up to see me sail over his head. Dad only allowed that to happen a couple of times before he taught me to let Yankee know who was boss.

 

Tiger Kitty, Pixabay

 

Mouse (Pixabay)

We had a tiger kitty to keep the mice down, and he mostly lived outside because that was where the mice mostly stayed. Dad seemed like a tough guy, but he hated mice. In a small mining town in Nevada, he worked in Safeway as a meat cutter. For some reason,mice in the back room loved climbing up inside the worker’s pants. Dad shuddered even at the thought of mice. On the other hand, Mother thought they were adorable as long as they stayed out of the restaurant pantry. She told me that when I was a baby, we were delighted to sit and watch a nest full of baby mice romp and play with their mama invisible, but nearby. I like mice, too, but I’ve never been thoroughly tested by them.

Sometimes on the inside, I still feel like the little girl I was decades ago. My peers say they feel that way, too. For a lot of us, good memories like these are silver and gold and unfortunately for our poor families, we tell them a lot.

 

 

 

 

Author, Poet and Artist

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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The Depot

23 Jul

My Take

DiVoran Bowers Lites

 

 

 

My parents renovated the old train depot in about 1950. My friend from childhood Patricia Franklin sent me the above photo from the Pueblo Chieftain, and I really appreciate it, and her. The two of us met in our two-room schoolhouse, when she was in first grade and I was in second. She was the only person in her class, so the teacher moved her into second grade where there were at least four students. We’ve been friends ever since.

This is how the house has looked recently. There were no Amish in town when our family lived there and the building closer to the range wasn’t there, but the mountains were, and I think my dad planted the big pine trees on the property when he renovated the house.

 

 

This is the third building from my younger years that is being turned into a museum. The second two were the Westcliff schoolhouse and the original women’s prison of the Colorado State Penitentiary in Canon City. That was where Granddad worked as a guard for most of his adult life. Being this familiar with the history of historical museums makes me downright ancient.

Mother and Dad along with my brother, David, and I moved to Westcliffe right after dad came back from WWII in 1945. They bought Min’s Café with a low-interest loan from the G. I. bill and money they’d been saving since marriage.

In a small town like Westcliffe (at the time…population about 500) it was a big job to build or renovate a house as building supplies had to be hauled to the valley from Canon City or Pueblo and there were few people who could help. Mother said she never wanted to restore another house. But Mother and Dad were business people and they wanted to live upstairs and make the downstairs into rooms for rent. We ended up calling it, “The White Cloud Motel.”

You can see in the original picture that the station had a boardwalk around it that isn’t there in the more recent picture. I have a rather sad tale to tell about that. When dad lifted the first boards, he found nests of baby rabbits underneath. Dad let me play with one and carry it around for a day, but then I had to give it back because rabbits multiplied like … well, you know like rabbits, and they were overrunning much of the ranch grasslands.

The White Cloud motel was finally finished and we moved into the upstairs apartment. It had the main floor, a cellar, and an upstairs, as well as a baggage room. Dad used the big room for storage, mostly of camping gear for trail rides and as a place for the game to cure.One of the giant shelves he built was open underneath and just the right size for a small bed and a play-house for me. I read, played with my dolls, and tried to keep my brother out. But one thing we did together was to go out the bathroom window on the second floor and slide down the roof until we got to the gutter, then climb back up and do it again.

Here’s someone else who lived in the Denver and Rio Grande Western railroad station.

“Cornelia Caroline Wadleighwas hired (at nineteen) to teach at the Ula School for the 1911-1912 terms…she lived with her parents at their home in the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad Station at Westcliffe. She rode the train to the school each day on its morning run to Texas Creek, and caught the afternoon run back to Westcliffe when the school day ended.”*

Because the building was derelict when my parents bought it, I have never once in the sixty-seven years since we moved in the thought of another family living there. I wonder if Miss Cornelia Caroline Wadleigh loved it all as much as I did. And did she slide down the roof? And how would she feel about it being made into a museum if she knew? Does she know? Maybe I’ll meet her in Heaven and we can talk it over.

*Quotation from One Room Schoolhouses, Custer County, Colorado, by Irene Francis.

 

 

 

Author, Poet and Artist

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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Horseshoe Lake

16 Jul

 

My Take

DiVoran Lites

with

Patricia Franklin

 

 

If you see the video first you will better appreciate the rugged terrain in the story.

 

 

 

 

This is a reply about last week’s blog from my childhood friend: Patricia Franklin.

Dear DiVoran,

Your blog, “Hermit Dam” reminds me of the time when I was a kid and I went to Hermit Lake with three of my brothers to go fishing (what other reason was there?!)  The older ones had done odd jobs to earn money to buy the pickup, and once they had it, they used it for all kinds of work around town, and for going fishing. Since you had to park at the beaver dams and hike to the lake we always started out about daylight to get there in time for plenty of fishing.

But, we never stopped at Hermit really, everybody fished there, and the good fishing was up higher at Horseshoe Lake. The problem was, it was a cool, cloudy morning, and instead of clearing up, it just got worse. By the time we got to Hermit, we were in the clouds.

We started on up to Horseshoe and got to where there was a break in the clouds and you could look down into the valley between the two lakes. There are (or were) three ponds between Hermit and Horseshoe. We got to that point and, looking through the fog, the ponds looked large enough to be a lake. At first,we thought we had reached Horseshoe, but we walked up further, and then back down again to the ponds, and knew we had a ways to go. By then it was raining and I was freezing cold, even though I was wearing a waterproof poncho.  We were above timberline, and there was not much shelter there. I sat down next to a large boulder that gave me a little protection from the rain while the guys decided what to do. We were never worried, just cold and wet. Our parents would only have worried if we had been out after dark.

 

Google search

 

Our eldest brotherBill, a teenager and a Boy Scout decided we would go back down to Hermit where we might find more shelter among the trees and some wood for a fire. We got down by the lake and started looking for some dry wood, and twigs under the bushes.  Bill started a nice little campfire to keep us warm and give us a comfortable spot to eat our bologna sandwiches.

 

 

By the time we finished lunch we were too cold and too wet to go fishing, and as there was no sun to dry us out, we walked back down to the pickup. We were home soon after not disappointed about the fishing, but satisfied with the fun day we’d had trekking into the mountains.

Later, they improved the road and people could drive all the way up to Horseshoe. I do not know if that is a wilderness area now or not, but I too am deeply grateful for adventures like this in another time and place.

Love,

Patricia

 

 

 

Author, Poet and ArtistDiVoran 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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Hermit Dam

8 Jul

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

Our family, Ivan, Dora, DiVoran, andDavid moved to Westcliffe after Dad came home from WWII. We lived in the Wet Mountain Valley with the Sangre de Cristo Range to the west of us.

 

 

 

This is part of the 9.6-mile road to Hermit Dam. Nowadays it is considered one of the most dangerous roads in America and one of the ten highest in Colorado. The road becomes a trail before you get to the lake, so you must get out of your four-wheeled vehicle and walk. No horses are allowed on the road or on the trail. I have a bit of news about that. Tell you later.

 

Hermit Lake

 

Dad became involved withthe local men who hunted and fished in the mountains. He enjoyedhelpingstock the lake with Rainbow, Brown, Cutthroat, and Brook trout from a small private airplane. He also took tourists on tours up into the mountains, on horseback.

By the time he was eight, David was a better horseman than I, so he would ride Dixie, a skittish paint, and I’d ride Derby a more gentle soul. One time going back down, we got ahead of the parents and came to a fork in the trail. In that spot we were on flat ground, so we decided to gallop. David and Dixie went first and as always, Derby and I followed their hard pace. Then the trail forked and Dixie took the left side. Fully expecting my horse to follow I leaned left. This was one time, however,that my horse sense failed me. Derby served to the right and I flew off, thus receiving my first flying lesson. Thank the Lord I was not hurt. The parents were still lollygagging behind and never knew a thing about our shenanigans.

Another time I went swimming in a freezing cold alpine lake made by a beaver dam. When I got out I couldn’t stop shivering, but everybody thought I was pretty brave, so it was worth it.

One fine spring day we were in the mountains and mother made a camping stew. We always kidded her that she put everything in the pot including cans of sardines and peaches. This particular day, she found dandelions growing and stripped them of their leaves to cook apart from the stew. She had been a campfire girl and knew a lot about camping and nature. She would never pull a wildflower out by the roots because then they wouldn’t be able to grow again. As we sat down to eat, giant snowflakes fell, but it was only one of those spring storms and uskids enjoyed catching the cold flakes on our tongues.

When I grew up, I married Bill and we had two children. Bill got laid off from work at the Cape and we took a six-week camping trip out west with our children.

We went to Westcliffe so the kids could see the schools I’d gone to, and where I had lived with my family. While we were there, I urged Bill to go on up to Hermit Lake so they could all see where good times with my family took place. We didn’t know it required a four-wheelvehicle. I will let Bill tell you rest:

 

“This was the roughest road (if you could call it a road) I had ever traveled in any kind of vehicle.  Here we were in a 1958 Ford station wagon (adjusted for sea level operations), pulling a pop-up camper up that one-lane road to an altitude of almost 12,000 feet.  Once we started up that road, we had to keep going.  At some points,we were moving no faster thana slow walk, having to steer around large boulders.

“I was getting worried that we would not be able to find a place to turn aroundwhen after two hours we came to the end of the nine miles of road. Luckily there was a flat space just large enough that we could turn around. Since it was getting dark we decided to set up the camper and spend the night there. Even though it was summertime, at that altitude the night was cold. The next morning we cooked breakfast, packed up the camper and got ready to head back to Westcliffe.  Well,guess what?  The car wouldn’t start!

It seems we had developed tiny cracks in the spark plugwires.  Now, with the air at this high altitude being so thin, the spark was jumping from the spark plugwires to the block, and not to the plugs. I removed the wire from each plug, cleaned and dried it, wrapped electrical tape around it, and reinstalled it. That coupled with the rising afternoon temperature, seemed to do the trick. With the car running, we now embarked on our two-hour adventure back down the mountain to Westcliffe.  WOW– What a trip!  I sure don’t want to ever have to make a trip like that again.

As I remember it, the reason we didn’t walk on up to the lake that morning was that the clouds were covering the mountain below us and we could barely see the road to get down, so we wouldn’t have been able to see the lake which was higher than where we camped.”

 

Thanks, Bill, not only for writing your take on itbut for getting us out of every jam we’ve been in for most of our lives. I thank God for you.

For years I’ve thought my life was regular and uneventful, but when I look back now and see the things I was privileged to participate in I know I had many adventures that perhaps others had not had. I also thank God for my mother, father, and brother and for all the things we did together.

Here’s a YouTube link that shows the road to Hermit Dam as it is now.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3iRqcN1Ozv0

 

 

 

Author, Poet and Artist

 

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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