Tag: #Creative Life

Go West Chapter 6~Ellie

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Go West 

by

DiVoran Lites

Chapter Six

Ellie

“Top o’ the mornin’ to you.” The bed jiggled bringing Ellie out of a numbness of sleep. “Didn’t you hear Mister Cock-o-the-Walk this mornin’?” She recognized Molly’s voice. It rang with heartiness and good cheer and it annoyed Ellie beyond measure.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Ellie shaded her eyes with her hand as sunlight streamed in through the lace curtains. “What time is it?” she asked.

“Seven o’clock. I thought you might be wanting a bit of time to get ready and to have some rhubarb pie, fresh baked this mornin’. The milking is done. The chickens are fed. The sow is nursing her squealers. The garden is watered. Aldon has the Ford ready to go and Mr. Solano will be waiting in the front seat in one hour. The missus doesn’t go to church. She’s a heathern and still in bed as far as I can tell.” Molly turned around and left the room forgetting to close the door behind her.

“Okay,” Ellie sank back into the pillow to think. We’re going to church. Signor Solano goes, but the signora stays home. Aldon is driving. I’ don’t want any breakfast; maybe I’ll snooze for one more minute.

“Come on, let’s get going,” Molly was back. She pulled off the covers and when she opened her eyes, she realized that Aldon had not removed any of her clothes. He was a gentleman, indeed.

“No rest for the wicked,” Ellie said, hearing her grandmother admonishing her to rise and get to work. Sitting up and looking around the room, she spotted her trunk. She knew Aldon had brought it upstairs and figured he had taken off her shoes, straightened her on the bed, and covered her. How thoughtful. Maybe he’d turn out to be a good man to know.

The trunk sat on its end, so all she had to do was open it as if it were a giant book. It had hangers and drawers and would have been worthy of a trip on the Queen Mary. Grandmother had tried to send her off in high style, but she hadn’t filled the trunk because she didn’t want to seem ostentatious. Even so, it took her a minute to decide what to wear.

The traveling suit would be dressier and warmer, but she had slept in it for several nights and it wasn’t what Grandmother would call, “fresh,” anymore. The blue jersey would have to do, even though she wasn’t fond of the long waists on dresses these days. She’d be glad when the styles changed again and she could buy a completely new wardrobe. On the other hand, now that she insisted on becoming independent, she wondered whether she’d make enough money for clothes. I wish Grandmother would stop my allowance as I asked, thought Ellie. Her deposits in the bank here don’t speak well of her confidence in me.

She hurried down the hall to the bathroom, sponge bathed and rushed back to slip into silk knickers and a crepe de chine envelope. She hoped no one would notice she was corsetless. The corsetiere at the store had fitted her before the war, but ambulance drivers needed to be able to move freely in their work so she had left those particular garments at home. She gloried in being able to get in and out of automobiles and bend over when necessary, but most of all, she had developed a fondness for breathing. People still gossiped about girls who were free in their dress and behavior, calling them flappers, Modern Millies, or vamps. Ellie realized she must be careful not to fall into that category. She ran a brush through her hair but the air was so dry and full of electricity that it rose like a halo around her head. Grabbing her blue cloche hat she pulled it down to hide her hair. Thank Heaven it was proper for a lady to wear a hat anywhere she went.

“What can I do to help,” she asked Molly in the kitchen.

“Sit down and eat.” Molly placed a piece of pie and a cup of cold milk on the table before her as she complied. Ordinarily I would consider the red juice against the white plate artful, but now it reminds me of gallons of blood pouring from hundreds of screaming bodies during the war.

“I saw Aldon carry your violin case up last night,” Molly said. “Or is that where you keep your eyebrows?”

“What?” It was too early for riddles. “No, my violin.” Ellie brought out her salesgirl smile, and then realized Molly was referring to her thin eyebrows. She knew they weren’t as thin as they could be, but she also knew that older women often disliked the new ways as much as younger people disdained the old ones.

“If God wanted us to have thin eyebrows, he would have drawn them on like I hear the floosies do.”

“Yes, ma’am. I can let them grow if you want,” said Ellie. She was on her way to independence. She was determined not to risk offending anyone and giving them an excuse to fire her.

“Eat your breakfast.” Molly frowned. “We need to get going.”

Ellie took up the fork and tasted the pie. It was so tart it made her ears ring. She grabbed the milk and gulped it down.

“I put six cups of sugar in that pie, my girl,” Molly said. “Eat it up, now. We’ve waited a long winter for this rhubarb. Have you had your spring tonic yet?

“No, ma’am, but I’m sorry I can’t eat it.” Ellie stammered. “I’m just not hungry.” Ellie crossed her fingers hoping not to suffer repercussions for lying.

“You liked the milk though?”

“Yes, it was good.” Ellie nodded and kept on nodding until she realized she must resemble a bobblehead doll.

“That there milk is from our own Brunhilda,” Molly said with a smile. “It’s got a lot of cream in it.”

“I can tell!” Ellie confirmed.

“Aldon will teach you how to milk her. Everybody ought to know how to milk a cow. Well, now, if you’re not going to eat the pie, scrape it into the bucket under the sink, and we’ll give it to the pig, she’s eating for thirteen. I gotta admit, even with all that sugar, it’s still a mite tart.” She walked out laughing to herself and Ellie knew everything was all right for the time being.

Go West Chapter 5~Aldon

Go West Serial 5

Go West

by

DiVoran Lites

Chapter Five

Aldon

“Ah yes, my new compagno.” Lia stepped into the hallway and embraced Miss Morgan saying, “Welcome, we will have wonderful time together.” Aldon had learned that compagno meant companion, so apparently Signora had big plans for using the newly hired Chicagoan. Molly, however, meant to use her for a kitchen maid. In all this scrambling, Aldon hoped there would be time for him to teach her to ride.

“Giovanni is asleeping in his room, but won’t you come in?” The Signora was always hungry for company. Aldon couldn’t blame her; the ranch was a good piece from town. But Aldon was concerned about the city gal’s need for rest.

“Come on, we gotta get movin’.” He tugged on her elbow, but she jerked her arm out of his hand and gave him a dirty look. Even so, she went along the corridor with him.
*
“Home sweet home,” He flung open the door to the room he’d slept in most of his life. The plank floor was clean, and the dresser that his grandfather had fashioned with cherry wood, glowed with polish. His old quilt lay across the foot of the bed. He now preferred to sleep under the thick, woolen army blanket he’d been allowed to bring home after his service in the Great War.

“If you keep going in the same direction we were headed, you’ll come to the bathroom,” he told her standing aside so she could enter the room.

“Thank you for everything.” Miss Morgan’s voice was cool and distant. He wondered what kind of a savage he appeared to her, manhandling her as he just had. He vowed to do better from here on out.

“If you can wait a few minutes, I’ll fetch your trunk.” He left then but sensed her slipping from the room and down the hall to the new bathroom with its long, German-made bathtub and flush toilet.
*
When he returned with the trunk, she was lying across the bed still fully dressed, but now sound asleep. She didn’t stir when he removed her boots, rotated her by her feet until her head was on the pillow, and covered her with the quilt.

In the barn, he checked the tires on the Touring car for air, put them on the car, jacked it off the blocks, and lowered the car to the ground. He made sure of the oil level, then after filtering the gasoline, he funneled it into the tank. Tomorrow would be the automobile’s first time out since autumn, and he was looking forward to getting behind the wheel. Mechanical things always worked for him. But he didn’t know much about females. Ma, fed the boys, kept them clean, and tried to make gentlemen of them, and one of the things she insisted upon was that they knew how to treat a lady. Another was that they never kept company with the other kind of woman. She told them what to look out for so that they didn’t fall into a lifetime of having their hearts broken.

He grabbed the clean clothes Molly had laid out for him in the barn, picked up his towel and soap, and headed for the lake in the light of the stars and the crescent moon. The lake was one-of-a-kind as far as he knew. Of course, he hadn’t seen every lake in the world, but this one had a hot spring at one end, and a place where the creek entered by waterfall at the other. In winter, they plunged into the perfect warm water to bathe and in summer; they cooled off in the cold. What he liked was that both had shallow parts and deep parts. What he didn’t like was the place in the middle where the water stayed tepid. He’d take hot or cold any day, but not the wishy-washy stuff in between.

He got out, dried off, and dressed, appreciating the clean clothes. Molly said she didn’t mind washing for him because she admired him for keeping clean. He mentally thanked his mother, Nancy, who had trained him that way. He did wish Nancy would come on home where she belonged. He didn’t get why she thought her sister Gertrude needed her more that he and Molly did. She’s the best mother anyone ever had, he thought. She helped us stay morally clean by having us read the Bible to her every night before bed. She talked things over with us so that we understood how to work, how to save our money, and how to get along with other people. Dad taught us all about ranching. He never spared the rod where it might be needed for discipline, and I’m thankful for that, too.

He lay down on the cot in the loft alcove and pulled the heavy army blanket up to his chest. As soon as he let his body relax, his mind got to work again. He was back in his BeBe flying over France and into Germany not knowing whether he would die or return home a cripple. He rolled over and deliberately turned his mind to the young woman he’d just met. I hope she and I will be good friends, he thought. I’ll see her again tomorrow. And maybe sometimes we can talk. I’ll plant more wildflowers in the garden, she’ll probably like those. He had many good things to think about: the songs he’d play on his mandolin tomorrow at church, the young woman, and driving the Ford Touring car to church tomorrow.

DiVoran’s Promise Posters, Paintings from Go West as well as other art can be purchased as note cards  and framable art

Creative Arts.

IPhones and Promise Posters

I’ve had my iPhone for a while now. I’m always finding new uses for it, even though I don’t use it much as a phone. It is nice, however, to have it when I want to use it.

2My newest creative endeavor is to paint backgrounds for the promises God gives me. My friend, Onisha, can take a digital copy of a painting and add the words to it. We will be posting them in various places such as on Rebekah Lyn Books  and Old Things R New. Maybe we’ll post them on Face Book if this technological bumpkin (me) can figure out how to do it, or get some help.

I usually make a new drawing when I start journaling to show that I’m writing on a new day. That way if I’m looking back through the pages, the daily divisions are easy to spot.

As far as art is concerned, people often think that artists just sit down and draw or paint something straight out of their imagination. And it’s true for some, but most of the artists I’ve known need to look at something to remind themselves what the details look like. Today I wanted to draw a goldfish. All you techies out there will know what I did. I went to images on the internet and right there on my phone were all the goldfish I could ever want.

It’s the same with making notes. I’ve always had papers everywhere, with notes to myself, lists, and things to do. Finally, all my notes are in one place. You guessed it, on my iPhone.

I’ve written my promise for the day in longhand, which is my preference. Now I can speak it into an email on my phone, and it will go straight to my computer in print. The following is how it looks in my inbox. I’m trying to train myself to say, “comma” and “period” when I need either one.

Beloved, I am always talking to you tonight (tune-in), and you will see how much I love you once I tell you something the enemy will try to tell you I did not say it. That is when you need trust, which is part of you, in the same way, that your mind is part of you. Your trust can go to the positive or to the negative as can your mind. Make up your mind that when I have said something I mean it and you will gain the peace that passes understanding.

Also Colossians 3:15-17 (AMP)

 ◄ Numbers 23:19 ►

 New International Version

God is not human that he should lie, not a human being, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill?

 

God TALKS With Text