For Cat Lovers Everywhere

Well, even if you are not cat lovers you can get over it ! I did.


This morning my niece sent me a picture of her two cats. Their names are Otis and Miss Ellie. One is black and the other one is white with a touch of black. She told about their favorite thing to do was catch varmints and bring them in to her and her husband at 3:00 in the morning.!

I told her I only had one cat, and then I began remembering how many cats we have had over the years. The first was a white kitten for my daughter, after she begged and played on my guilt. It was a cute little kitten but was the bane of my existence when I was standing at the sink washing dishes. It was great sport for him to jump at my heels and scratch them. I can do just so much dancing while standing at the sink so I was not pleased with this aspect of having a kitten. We were living in Maryland at the time and a heavy snowfall came one evening. Little Kitty was out that night. Kitty did not return home. I learned that in the heavy snow this poor kitten was out in the road and being white could not be seen. So, he met the same fate as the opossums do in our area here in Ga.



The next time that kittens appeared in our household was around 1990. I was in a second marriage and my husband came home with two little kittens. A farmer near by had given them to him. I was overcome with a "hissy fit" and demanded they be returned. I relented however when he said he took them as it gave him comfort to have them around. He was losing his eyesight and had been told by Emory's best doctors that he would soon be completely blind. I cannot imagine how it would be to lose one's eyesight. I am very visual and for that to be taken away is more than I could bear. Those two cats lived outside and my only complaint was that they dug in my garden.


My husband built a unique feeding station for them. We had a double trunked hickory tree out back. He made a platform which was wedged between and around the trees. It was high enough that our dog could not reach it. The cats could scamper up the trunk and feed whenever they wanted. It was a win, win, situation. I did not know it at the time but they also were keeping away other critters that I would really not like. As outside cats tend to do, they "came missing" at some point. Since my husband was no longer here I did not seek out replacements.


As time went by and I was enjoying retirement , my neighbor called me . He had a feral cat on his property and she had given birth to a litter of kittens. She had sought out a safe spot for the birth, under his shed. He had a dog and knew this situation could not exist for long. He wanted me to take the last two of the kittens. I told him I just did not want to do that, but he came over with these two little fur balls anyway. He proposed that after they were weaned I keep them to catch mice around the place. I protested I did not know what to do with two kittens and did not want them. He was so desperate to find a home that he said he would come over every day and help me "tame" them. I did have a screened in porch and plenty of land where they could hunt. Finally, I again relented and agreed to take on two cats. He kept his word , came over every day ,picked them up and petted them.

One of the cats I named "Spitfire" as he would spit at you if you picked him up. I was intimated but not my neighbor. He just took his big hands and picked him up and petted him anyway. He told me that this kitten had been traumatized by his dog while just a few days old. Spitfire had ended up in his dog's mouth. The other cat had two black ears that looked like a butterfly so I named him "Butterfly". I got into the whole cat thing, with a litter box on my screened porch. For three weeks they lived on this porch, never leaving. Then gradually, I took them outside for a little bit at a time. This took a while as they felt secure on the porch. It had been their home. They ate, played and slept there, so naturally they felt safe there.


The personalities began to come forth. Spitfire was wiry and agile and alert at every change; Butterfly was laid back and gentle, content to just be a lazy cat. I had both of them neutered so the difference was just in their genetic nature. they both turned out to be great hunters however and kept my garden vole free. No small fete when you have a lot of land. I learned to tolerate the digging and tried to make my garden "cat proof".
My brother from Va. came to visit while I had these two cats. He noticed that Spitfire was climbing the outside wall to peer into my kitchen. He proposed to build a platform for them to sit on and watch me working in the kitchen. This proved to be great sport for him and for all of my visitors. True to his nature Spitfire just had to see what I was doing indoors.


I think some kind of change was taking place in Butterfly as he would follow me into my raised bed vegetable garden. As I worked he would try to scratch me as I dug with my trowel. One serious scratch sent me to my doctor for treatment. My vet said I may have to get rid of Butterfly if this behavior continued. I was reluctant to do that. As I stated earlier, cats sometimes "go missing". This happened to Butterfly. He had gone away before and always returned but his time he did not. So, now I was down to one cat.


My sister and her family were here visiting. Her son asked me if Spitfire ever brought gifts to me as, in mice he had caught. I told him no, he never had. A short time after this as my guests were leaving by way of the back door Spitfire appeared and at his feet was a small mouse. He turned his head and looked up at me as if to say " Well, I finally am bringing you a gift". My guests left and so did Spitfire. Some time during the day he just did not return to the house. My house is surrounded by woods in all directions. He could have gone anywhere. He was an old cat but still skittish. Perhaps it was his "time" to go.


That fall I planted 100 bulbs in my front flower bed. Only 50 came up in the spring. What I did find was plenty of holes left by voles. With no cats to keep them at bay, they had been feasting all winter below ground on those succulent bulbs. So, Spitfire and Butterfly had been earning their keep. I had just not realized how valuable they were.


Do I want another cat. Well, noooooooo ! But I do recognize their value, as companion, varmint catcher, entertainers and sometimes just interesting as character studies.

The Greatest Reward

Life has many rewards. Depending upon your perspective, your focus for rewards can be quite different from the person next to you. Since I enjoy gardening I am thinking of the rewards that go along with this universal hobby. Although it could be an avocation, or vocation. For me it is good exercise and experimentation with seeds and plants.

I was greatly rewarded this morning when I went to my tall, healthy, productive Navaho thorn less blackberry bush. The berries are bigger and fatter then the biggest thumb. When they are completely black and shiny they are ready for picking. If the berry comes off easily with the tenderest pull, then you know it is at it's peak of ripeness. There is nothing quite as tasty as a bowl of these berries with a tad of sugar sprinkled over them. Adding cold milk is like icing on the cake.

Like most rewards it started with preparation. Three of the men in my life dug, tilled, amended and fertilized the soil until it was friable and ready for planting. Thanks, to Jim, Bruce and Reed this bed for blackberries was properly ready to receive the healthy plants I put in the ground. That was only last year. Not long at all to wait for the sweet reward.

I am thinking of all of the parents who are sending their children off to college this fall. These parents worked years in the garden of parenting to guide, direct, correct, affirm and cultivate their children. Now, their children are ready to step forward into a new experience of living away from home and being on their own. There will still be parental ties to be sure. But seeing these young people go forth with the best preparation their parents could give them, is the greatest reward of all.

Not all parents will be able to savor this kind of reward. For those who can, it is sweet indeed. It is well worth the time, effort , money and sacrifice invested in their upbringing. For all parents who are sending their children off to studies in a different environment, we applaud what you have done. We know it has not been easy, but we also know it has been well worth it all. You surely have the very greatest reward possible.

Wasted Life

Early this morning while I and most of the people in America were sleeping, a rare occurrence took place in the state of Utah. A killer was killed by firing squad. His daughter spoke about his agreement with the death penalty. He agreed that he should have this punishment. His disagreement was that it took so long to take place. Perhaps his lawyers prolonged the process by using appeals. For whatever reasons that it was delayed, he felt it should have happened sooner not years later. Perhaps it should have been after his first murder, but at that time he killed his second victim, while trying to escape. So, he certainly did not have that attitude after his first crime.

The story I saw about him stated that he had a troubled upbringing. Now, I do not know what kind of an upbringing he had. Unless he had been born with a criminal mind, a natural psychopath, then there is blame elsewhere. But who or what is to blame? The answer may be so convoluted that no one thing or person brought him to this end.

Can this sort of thing be prevented in the future. Yes and no, irresponsible people will continue to bear children. There will always be people with no plan or preparation on how to provide a stable and loving home.

Can others play a part in providing a stable and loving environment for children who need it. Of course, they do it all the time. Most parents are doing a great job of rearing children. Many organizations and civic minded persons use their time and money to help children grow into healthy reliable citizens. Could such efforts be redoubled. Yes. Could others be alert for opportunities to play such a role. Yes. I know of many who do just that and I feel sure that you do too.

Our government plays a part in helping families when they are in trouble. Perhaps on a local level there is a helpful idea yet to come forth. Many adults who have retired, use their time to act as mentors for young children. The schools are happy to have adults participate in mentoring situations. Students at risk are identified and flagged for help. Since all children enter the schools at an early age there is plenty of opportunity to be a part of the solution. If you feel so inclined to help you will be welcomed. You can even say that I sent you.! But, if we all are alert to ways in which we can affirm children, that is a step forward.

While we lament a wasted life we are not helpless to steer others in a different direction.

The Bird Whistler

My son Bruce is so busy with his job and two boys that a visit from him with the boys is a rarity.

So, when he told me he would be able to come up on a week-day, I began to plan something for me to do with Grant. He is my 13 year old grandson. Bruce always plans his visits to come after lunch and before the evening meal. The reason for this timing is that Grant has Prader Willi and is restricted in how much he can eat. Bruce always brings special fruit flavored water and a treat for a mid afternoon snack. Mealtime is hard for Grant since he cannot eat all his tummy says he can eat.

I like to have something different planned to do with Grant. So, on the spur of the moment I decided to get out the Bingo game and arrange to have prizes for the winners. I had it all set up on the glass top table in the sun room. To make it easier to cover our numbers I had cut little squares of masking tape and stuck them on the table top. In a different place I had hidden the prizes , four of them in an envelope and numbered from one to four.

Bruce asked to take a shower as he had been awakened by Grant at 5:00 that morning. So, as he went up for his shower Grant and Reed, his 18 year old brother got the game going. Grant had an unusually good card and with a little encouragement from me and his brother he soon had a "Bingo". So, I got out prize # one. Four quarters. Grant loves money as he knows he can go shopping and he loves to do that. As the game progressed Grant had a second Bingo. This time the prize was money also, 3 quarters, 2 dimes and 1 nickel. In no time at all, Grant had his third win. This time the prize really got interesting. It was a $20.00 bill.

But that was when his luck ran out as Reed got the next "Bingo". This time the prizes took a down turn, or so I thought. But in all good grace Reed took his prize and went into the kitchen to put water into it. He was not impressed with it. However, his younger brother's curiosity had gotten to him and he wanted Reed's prize. I said , "Maybe you can buy it from him." This appealed to Grant and he told Reed he would give him $20 for his prize. SOLD. What teen ager can turn down $20 for something he did not want in the first place.

Grant went into the kitchen and put a little water into this unusual whistle shaped like a bird. Then he blew air into it and out came the most beautiful bird call I had ever heard. It trilled and rippled and hung in the air like a rustling of feathers. I jumped up and went into where he was and he was soon making all of these beautiful bird calls. Of course I was thrilled at this turn of events. We all went outside and listened to see if any of the birds in the woods around us would respond. And they did !! We were all enchanted. It seems the amount of water in the whistle and the way you blow determines the call you make. Even better the string around the whistle could be hung around the neck for ease of use.

Where did this whistle come from, you may ask. Well, several years ago I ordered it from a magazine with gifts for children. I had bought it with an eye to using it for a Christmas gift, but had discarded the idea and put the whistle away in a cubbyhole in my desk. I had forgotten all about it. It was still in the plastic bag it came in and attached to it was a card explaining all about this little whistle. I needed another prize and quickly decided this was it !

The item came from Jamtown. http://www.jamtown.com/ It was made in Vietnam by craftsmen and women who assemble the clay birds. They are made from a safe, lead-free ceramic. The birds are shaped and painted before firing to harden the material. It is actually a Christmas tree ornament but makes bird sounds so sweet it can be your companion all year long.

There is more. Quoting from the booklet that came with it : "The Bird Water Whistle captures much of Vietnam. Creatures of the air represent freedom, and the people of this country struggled for centuries against Chinese, French and U.S. armies. Water is vital to the rice fields that supply the staple food sitting on almost every plate every day. Bird calls in the early morning start at the same time as the hardworking, industrious Vietnamese people. To fly like a bird is a universal dream and another example of how people are more alike than different all over the planet earth."

So, in light of this extra information, do you think that Grant made a good bargain with his brother for this bird whistle?

College Chums

After graduating from Harlan High School I began a new phase of my life by going to Eastern Kentucky State College in Richmond, Ky. One of my best friends came also and was my room mate for one quarter. My mother made matching bedspreads for us to use and also curtains for our room. The material she used was red with white dots, or perhaps it was the other way around white with red dots. I really have forgotten but we both liked them and when Betty left after one quarter she wanted to take her bedspread back to Harlan. Betty missed her boy friend there and she later did marry him. I was her maid of honor and the picture shows us out in her back yard after the wedding. She became Mrs. Warren Hensley and now lives in Knoxville, Ky.

There were other friends from our home area in Harlan Kentucky. The second picture shows us on the stairs of one of the buildings with those best friends. The top girl is Dottie Ellison. An only child of a nurse and an engineer. Dottie was cheerful and full of life. She floated around like a butterfly and was always into something interesting. Over 20 years ago I heard that she had passed on. I do not remember when she left our college as I left for a sojourn in Texas before graduating. I think she must have left while I was away for that year.

The second young lady on the stairs is Bonnie Ayers. She was one of five girls in her family. As her name indicates she was Scottish . I think she had wise parents as they saw that all five of their girls went to college. I think her father was a wise man for when she left home he told Bonnie to be sure to write a letter each week to her mother, and she did. I later learned that Bonnie had gone to Arizona and became a lawyer. I admired her for her independence and my first child was named for this Bonnie.


The next young lady is Betty McSpadden who lived a few blocks from me in Harlan. I recently had the pleasure of speaking to her by telephone. She lives in a retirement home there under the watchful eye of her loving daughter. Over the years we kept in touch and I have two pictures of her three girls at different ages. It was so nice to talk to her. Her voice sounded just the same as I remembered. It would be really nice to drive up to visit with her in person.

At the bottom of the stairs is me, holding onto Betty as though I were about to fall. We all had such good times together. During the years we were there our country was in the midst of World War II and very few boys were on campus. So, dating was not a big concern. I had a boy friend who was in Berea College about 25 miles from Richmond and we visited some but mostly it was classes and girl friends and studying. All of that changed during my last year there as the soldiers were returning from their military duties and our campus began to take on a different character.

Living in a college dorm is one experience I wish all girls could have. You forge friendships which last a life time. Though you may move to different parts of the country or the world, those friends always will live in your heart and memory. You are college chums forever.

Daddy's Fan and Mama's footstool

I have just come up from working in my raised bed garden. Some pesky weeds would not come up when I tried to hand pull them. I had a hoe outside the fenced garden but I did not want to make a big project of this weed pulling. So, I postponed the weed pulling until another day.



Thus began my thinking process. Gardening has become so much easier in recent times. I do not recall home owners having earth tillers when I was growing up. You plowed with a mule pulling the plow or your neighbor did it for you. Around 1920 the first mechanical earth turner came into existence, but was not in common use among home gardeners. They cost money and serious gardeners are about saving money, not spending it.



Growing up we always had a garden, and my mother canned the produce from her garden. It was a necessity as she had eight children to feed. As years passed and she no longer had to feed a large family, gardening fell by the wayside. But old habits die hard and she still liked to have her hand in the process. My mother lived in a small apartment attached to her oldest daughter's home. Her husband had a garden and my mother in her 80th year took her footstool and went to the garden with a hoe to do her part. I have a picture of my mother sitting on that stool wearing a straw hat and stopping for a moment to have her picture taken.

Central air conditioning was another appliance which was not seen in many homes. However my father had something which ran a close second to air conditioning in a room. It was a footstool, of sorts. It was round, with a motor and blades underneath the seat. On each side of the seat were curved handles for ease of carrying from one room to the other. When turned on the air came up and out from all sides through a heavy mesh covering. Adults were not inclined to sit on this stool, but it was an enticing pastime for youngsters. The fan had one speed, "on" and that was all that was needed. With that in the middle of your room you were plenty cool enough to enjoy the hottest day.

I have always been intrigued with footstools. They are small and handy. If I see them in a store I feel compelled to stop and examine them. I have one on my back deck which doubles as a small low table. When you pick it up by the two inside slats it folds upward and can be carried easily. A very functional little piece of furniture. I found a small footstool made of plastic which folds inward to make it easy to store. It fits nicely between my washer and dryer and is there if I cannot reach something on a top shelf. There are footstools to fit every occasion it seems. And I say "Hooray" for footstools and any invention which makes work easier.

God Hears and Answers

In the 1940's in a small town in the coal mining area of Kentucky an operating room nurse was struggling to raise her two young sons on her own. Her marriage had come to an end because an illness left her husband dependent upon pain medication. Her sons were not safe nor was she, living with a man addicted to drugs. She came to this town to take a night job in order to be with her two young boys during the day. A friend stayed with the boys while they slept. It was an impossible schedule and she knew it could not go on this way. One night while she was bathing her little boys she began to cry. As her tears fell on the bathtub she began to pray for deliverance from this intolerable living situation. She had not been a believer but she desperately asked God to help her.

One of the doctors she helped in the operating room was a Christian. She had not told him of her situation but two evenings later while she was at work this good doctor told her he needed a nurse to run his clinic at one of the mining camps. There was a house that went with the job and the clinic was open only in the mornings.

She could hardly believe her ears. God answered her prayers far beyond her expectations. A house, a job, short hours. From that day forward this nurse became a faithful servant of the Lord in every aspect of her life. For the rest of her life she never failed to tithe her salary, worship at every opportunity and witness to others about what had happened to her in her time of need.

Over the years I kept in touch with this dedicated Christian. After I moved to another state I made it a point to stop by her new home and visit with her. On one of my last visits I was telling her about making baskets. She brought out a cloth basket which her sister had made. She made a gift of it to me. I now have it sitting on a table where I can see it. It reminds me that God indeed hears us and does indeed answer us beyond our wildest dreams.