King Charming- A Fairy Tale

24 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Cinderella had never worn high-heels before the night of the ball when she met Prince Charming. When she ran from him at the stroke of midnight she stumbled, almost fell, and left her beautiful glass slipper behind on the steps to the palace.

After he proposed Prince Charming asked Cinderella to stop wearing high-heels immediately. He said they were unreliable, unstable, unrealistic, and dangerous and he didn’t want his wife, the mother of future princes and princesses deforming her feet and breaking down her body by wearing them.

It was a Chinese cousin of his, with the help of little missionary, Gladys Alward (See movie, “The Inn of the Sixth Happiness”) who put a stop to the binding of feet only years before and the family had launched a crusade to keep all women, in every kingdom safe, comfortable, and as happy as possible.

“A woman is too valuable to be corseted, pierced, botoxed, cut on or plucked in the name of beauty,” decreed the Prince.

Prince Charming’s father eventually passed on and the Prince became King Charming. I hear of a secret society, in his honor, where women kick off their shoes in warm weather and wear fuzzy boots in cold, wear silk dresses, or jeans, and flowers in their hair, and are considered beautiful without any artifice at all. I told you it was a fairy-tale didn’t I?

First Samuel 16:7

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Flip-Flopping

21 Apr

As I mentioned in a previous post, we ran free in our childhood and we did it barefoot or in flip-flops. I remember my mother and I walking down the sidewalk to visit a friend, our flip-flops taping a rhythm flip,slap,flop, slap on the sidewalk. I lived in flip flops all the years when they weren’t cool like they are today. Then disaster struck. I developed plantar fasciitis. The muscle of my foot became inflamed and wearing any open backed shoe was painful. I put away my flip-flops for years.

Eventually I was able to move into sandals and I discovered Kinos. Kino is a brand of fabulous leather sandals made in Key West. Some people go to the Keys for fishing, swimming, or history, me I go for the sandals. I dash off the cruise ship and head for the Kino store, they have odd hours and I don’t want to miss them. Alas, I haven’t cruised to Key West in a couple of years and my Kinos are worn out. I searched the stores for a replacement for my beloved shoes and met sticker shock. My last leather Kinos cost eleven dollars per pair. No way was I paying the asking price for the poorly made shoes in the stores.

So that is how I ended up back in flip-flops. It wasn’t easy finding a pair I liked that didn’t cost a ridiculous amount of money but I did finally find the perfect pair at Old Navy. I love them and I love the sound they make. In my mind, I am once again walking down the sidewalk with my mom and running through the old neighborhood streets.

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Get Your Kicks On Route 66

19 Apr

Interstate highways changed the face of American small towns. Main Street America languished and  many towns failed completely. I am very pleased to share with you thoughts from a dear friend on one of America’s most famous highways, Route 66.

Get Your Kicks On Route 66

By Bill Lites

When my wife and I were first married, we lived in San Diego, California, and then Los Angeles while our parents lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico where we met.  We tried to visit our parents as often as we could.  In the mid 50s and 60s, the only route from the southern coast of California to Albuquerque was the famous two-lane Route 66.  We spent many hot, boring days traveling back and forth across that desert stretch.

Today with the Interstate highway system criss-crossing our country many of the older highways have been all but forgotten.  Not so for many of the small towns that thrived from that East-West traffic flow.  My most recent visit to an Aviation Air Museum took me to the historic Williams, Arizona (pop. 3475) where it was the last city on Route 66 to be by-passed by I-40.  This has not reduced the flavor or memories of those who live there. They have kept their city alive as a historic Arizona landmark.  As I sat eating dinner at Rob’s steakhouse, I was amazed to remember that back then Williams was just one of many small towns along Route 66 that we had to slow down for, causing our trip to be longer than I thought it needed to be.  Today I relaxed and enjoyed what was left of the historic downtown Williams, Arizona.  What a difference the years can make in our attitude toward a time or a place.

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Crust-aceans

17 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lites

April 17, 2012

Crustaceans

 

 

It’s April in Florida and, I invited my daughter to go in the pool where she lives. She would have invited me if she’d known I wanted to go. The water in the pool was shivery cold, so her dear husband turned on the hot/whirlpool for us, the bubbler too. We all sank up to our chins and soaked. The bubbles came up all around and over our shoulders, and beat on the bottoms of our little and big feet. It was heavenly warm; in fact, we got so warm we began to wonder if we should turn the heat down. But it was so relaxing and it made us all laugh and feel good.

That was when I first thought about the crabs and the lobsters and all such crustaceans (by the way you spell that as if you are spelling crust and ocean with an a. It was hard to find on my spell checker, but I eventually got close enough that it could correct me.) Anyhow, we’re talking about crust-aceans. They are so delicious at seafood restaurants. Lots of people eat them. Suddenly I realized they must be glad to get into the hot pot after being in the cold acean for so long. Ocean.

Fortunately, the man among us had the good sense to turn it off and get us out and into our towels, but that didn’t happen before I realized why those shellfish taste so sweet. They die happy.  If it seems macabre to say so, well, consider the source.

 

 

The Last Free Childhood

12 Apr

Oh the freedom and joy of being a child in the 50’s.  We had our chores but then we were free. We rode our bikes without helmets, the wind flowing across our faces and through our hair. We rode with no hands and crashed. There were no government regulations to protect us. We learned that crashing hurts don’t do it.

We didn’t just play on our street, the neighborhood was our kingdom and we were free to roam from a pick up baseball game to hopscotch or just sit on a street corner and talk until dark.  My husband and his brothers would cross the railroad tracks in the morning and roam the woods until hunger drew them home. They swung from vines and built tree houses and forts. They even used machetes without  supervision. Did they get a cut or two?  Of course, but they learned to be careful.

Our parents didn’t worry. The neighbors kept an eye out and we each knew our mother’s bellowing yell and were smart enough to reply “COMING”, when she called. My parents didn’t worry about us being   kidnapped; we weren’t rich so why would anyone want us? My mother would say, ‘don’t worry, if anyone took you they would bring you back in an hour.” I was kind of offended. Surely they would keep me two.

My parents grew up on farms.  Even when they were small, everyday except Sunday was a workday. Neither went past the eighth grade. They were too valuable on the farm to waste time in school. When my siblings and I came along, we had a very different childhood.  We had a freedom I don’t think any generation has ever enjoyed or will enjoy in the future.

Growing up in Orlando, Lake Eola Park was where families spent Sunday afternoons. It was hard to get the three of us to sit still for very long.

 

 

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Are Not Two Little Sparrows Sold For A Penny?

10 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Sparrows

I’m sitting in the car waiting for the clinic to open. What will the doctor say? I press the button and the window rolls down. It’s springtime and the air is cool and dry. The sound of sparrows in the eaves reaches my consciousness. I lay my head on the headrest and close my eyes. The sparrows’ perky song reminds me:

“Are not two little sparrows sold for a penny? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father’s leave and notice. But even all the hairs of your very head are numbered. Fear not, then; you are of more value than many sparrows.” (Matthew 10:29-31,*). “Cheep, cheep” I take a deep breath. No wonder I feel so peaceful. The sound of sparrows reminds me that, because I matter to Him, God is overseeing everything that happens to me with great love and concern.

*The Message

Sparrow

Sparrow (Photo credit: barryskeates)

 

Copy and paste this link to visit DiVoran’s artist site. http://www.creativeartworks.cc/a_118.html

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A Grave Lesson

8 Apr

 

I was at the cemetery a few days ago.It’s a family friendly cemetery and I enjoy my time there sharing a story or sweet memory with whoever accompanies me. In the headstone section shepherd hooks sport colorful baskets of flowers and benches are scattered liberally amongst the markers.

After refreshing the flowers on my parent’s grave I took a moment to see how everyone was doing. My eyes scanned the rows of flat markers and I was pleased to see that most had flowers and many had  tinkling wind chimes or pinwheels. Diagonally across from my parents lies Dave. Instead of a flat marker he has raised granite one. I knew Dave and he had been a bit of a jerk during his time on earth but his grandson loved him very much. For years he has left flowers, statues and trinkets to show his love for this man. I find it touching and a reminder to me just because I think someone is a jerk, doesn’t mean they aren’t dearly loved.

 

NOTE- This blog refused to go the way I intended. I meant to talk about characteristics of friendly cemeteries versus the cold, flat no flower ones but somehow Dave just took over. Interesting.

Onisha

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Easter Dresses

5 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lites

April 4, 12 2012

I walked through the children’s department in Penny’s the other day and saw rows of pastel dresses with lace, embroidery, and ruffles. My heart yearned as it recalled pictures of my mother as a girl in her Easter finery, me in a dotted Swiss dress she made one year, and our young daughter in a yellow dress and white hat. We also have a photo of our granddaughter in a poufy, flower-print dress playing with her dollhouse on the back porch.

II Corinthians 5:17 tells us that when we are in Christ we become new creatures, our old lives are over. One reason we wear new clothes at Easter is to symbolize this newness.

One day Christ died a painful and bloody death, but then he walked out of the place of burial alive. Why did this miracle happen? Let us ask the Spirit of Christ who is now with us. Isn’t that what Easter is really all about?

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Was It a Miracle, Serendipity, or Synchronicity?

31 Mar

My Take- DiVoran Lites

Springtime

March 31, 2012

This morning, I felt compelled to step outside as spring frolicked in our back yard. Birds sang, and butterflies fluttered. I started to walk around the perimeter, but I spotted a weed. Truthfully, I’d seen it before, but I procrastinated plucking it from the damp earth. It lifted easily and then, I saw another one, and another. I ended up pulling most of the weeds. When I got back to the tiny jungle under the eaves that we call the shade garden, I noted that it was so lush with growth it could easily supply a new area. I thought about thinning and transplanting right then, but knew that would cost a whole day’s energy and I had other things to do, so maybe another day, better yet, someday, when Harold calls, we’d have a job for him.

Harold is our godsend. He lives in his van, but he has other resources when he needs them. He was a boxer in his youth, but they passed him over because he didn’t have the killer instinct. Every month when he gets his social security check, he buys gas and parts for the van, and food. Last summer he went to Georgia and spent a few months fixing up his sister’s house. Now that he’s back, he’ll call and ask for a couple of hours of work now and then. That helps him and it helps us, too.

Well, guess what, as I entered the house, the phone rang, and it was Harold wanting work. My husband said, “Come on over.” We looked out the front window and there he was,  having called us on his cell phone. In one hour, he had thinned the shade garden and we had plants all the way to the corner of the house.

After many years of failure we now garden as simply as possible. In Florida, aloe, spider plant (ours is green and white), bromeliad, and ferns are practically indestructible. Purple Queen adds pink and purple to the mix.

Was it miracle, serendipity, or synchronicity that Harold called when he did? I call it God. This year, as spring dances into summer the shade garden will become lush and full. There will be no room for weeds then, and I’ll get up in the morning’s relative cool and walk around the garden soaking up stillness in perfect peace and maybe I’ll pick a weed or two as well.

DiVoran is also a gifted artist. See her work at http://goo.gl/z1xIz

Folded Flag

29 Mar

Great post today by DiVoran. I enjoyed it, hope you do too.

Folded Flag

My Take

We are at a funeral in a church. The wife of the deceased holds out her hands for the folded American flag. We’ve seen it on T. V.many times. What we have not seen is the prayerful ceremony that precedes it.

Earlier, one of the woman’s sons brought an uniformed airman to her and introduced them. The straight-backed military man said respectfully, “I am sorry for your loss, Ma’am.

After taps, played on a solitary trumpet, two air force men walked to the front, one carrying the flag, which he slowly and ritually began to unfold. He handed an end to the other man who backed up the length of the flag, opening it with great ceremony and care. They stretched the beautiful stars and stripes full length and opened it like a sheet that would go on a bed. Later we learned that it would have gone on a coffin if there had been one. They folded it again and tucked in every end. No mother has ever folded her baby’s clothes more lovingly. One of the airmen hugged the triangular bundle to his heart with white-gloved hands and bowed his head. The other airman seemed to be on watch. A reverent hush fell over the gathered family and friends and God was honored. I call that prayer.

We hear someone is trying to take prayer out of military protocol just as it was taken from our schools long ago allowing murder, suicide, and all manner of licentiousness to run rampant among our impressionable young people. No one with good sense wants that for our soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen. True patriots don’t want it for our country. But some politicians are given more power than they deserve. Do as they will, however, God has promised He will never leave us or forsake us, so obviously no one can take the Holy Spirit away. He is here to stay, no matter what. Hebrews 13:5.

DiVoran Lites

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