Anita Mae Draper
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Cat, Dog or Pony? & Winner's Choice Giveaway

5/13/2012

10 Comments

 

Cat, Dog or Pony?

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What's your history with pets?

This early 50's photo of Uncle Paul, my mom's brother, gave me the idea for a post on pets - those animals we've loved and shared our homes with.

Although I don't know the names of Uncle Paul's cat and dog, they look similar to ones I've shared companionship with in the photos below of my childhood.

This photo reminds me of the dog Mamma and Pappa had during my visits with them. They called him Koira (with a rolled 'r'). I thought it was a beautiful name until Mamma said Koira is really the word 'dog' in the Finn language. 

Another photo of Paul when he was even younger, is the one below where he's standing with Valentine, a milk calf, who was only a couple days old.

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Young Paul with Valentine who was a couple days old when this was taken.
Back in the late '60s we lived in Port Arthur, Ontario (now Thunder Bay) at the head of Lake Superior. The summer before I turned 12 we moved to a farm 7 miles out and that's where the following photos were taken.

When we lived in town, Dad had bought us mini-bike, but we weren't allowed to drive it. Within a few weeks of moving to the farm, he'd traded the mini-bike to the neighbours for a pony.
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Anita Mae, 12 yrs old
Flicka was a Shetland pony and because Dad brought her home the day before my 12th birthday, I always - secretly - considered her my horse. It was just as well because none of the other kids wanted to ride or take care of her. It was possible they didn't want to put up with her antics.

When I look at the above photo now, I see that I was kind of big for her, but at the time she seemed the perfect size.  Except for her width. Shetlands are known for their wide bellies, which is why many people buy the narrower Welsh ponies for their kids. Sheltlands are also known for their...ah... not-so-nice dispostion. This proved true when Flicka put up such a fuss whenever I tried to give her the bit and then saddle her. I can't tell you how many times she nearly stepped on my toes while I was trying to tighten up the cinch. And that was another thing -  I never could get the cinch tight enough because she extended her belly and then seemed to suck it in later when I was bouncing around on her back.  Flicka never ran, she trotted everywhere and I'm sure I looked like a sack of potatoes up there. She almost lost me and the saddle a few times. But what I really didn't like was when she turned her head to snap at my knees without warning.

All things considered though, I had a horse and wasn't about to complain about it.

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Buttons in front with Peter 4, Bonnie 14, and Anita Mae 12,
The cat in this photo is Buttons. I remember someone handing Buttons to me on one of our moving trips to the farm. I was told to put a towel over her head so that she couldn't see where we were taking her or she'd try to make her way back home.

Buttons was a short-haired domestic with a nice disposition. Although I'm not a cat person, I didn't mind when Buttons jumped on my lap and cuddled while I read my books in my playhouse. There was no glass and Buttons would go through the window and sleep on the chair when I wasn't around. One time, I smelled skunk as I neared my playhouse. Buttons was lying on the chair, all perfumed up in the worst way. Of course my chair took on the odor. We tried bathing Buttons, but in the end decided to keep our skin and let her clean herself. It tooks weeks before I could go inside and read.

In the next photo, the outbuilding behind Johnny was my playhouse. Originally a grainary, it might have been used for a playhouse by the family who lived there before us. About 5'x5', it contained an over-stuffed chair and small bookcase although I can't remember if they were there when we moved in or if my parents moved them there from the house.

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Suzie with 9 yr old Johnny in 1969, Thunder Bay, Ontario

Dad brought Suzie home just after we moved to the farm. She was our guard dog and protector and was only let loose during the night. I didn't spend much time with her because I didn't like dog smell. And whenever I petted Suzie on the way to my playhouse, Buttons acted like I betrayed her.

Yet I felt safe knowing Suzie was protecting us. Especially after I saw a timber wolf out strolling near the barn one Saturday during the winter. A thick layer of snow already covered the ground and more was softly falling. I looked out the kitchen window and saw the grayish movement on the white landscape. That day was so still, it was eerie. The wolf padded across the snow toward the barn and then behind it. I don't know why Suzie didn't raise the alarm. Within seconds, the wolf appeared on the other side of the barn and kept going toward the west. That's my only wolf sighting to date and I'm fine with not seeing another one that close. I may have been in the safety of the house, but I knew danger when I saw it.

What about you? What pets did you have in your childhood? And if  you didn't have one, what would you have liked to have?


Related Author Memories posts with Pets or Playhouses:
Penny Zeller -
The Dream House (playhouse)
Christa Allan - Camellia Manor: Back to the 1840s (1890 photo of girl and cat)
Valerie Hansen -
Writin' and Ropin' (pony)
Jennifer AlLee -
A Girl's Best Friend (chihuahua saves the day)


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GIVEAWAY - Winner's Choice!
Leave a comment with a valid email address by midnight, May 20th
to be entered in a draw for a book from my giveaway pile.
If you're the winner, I'll email you the list and you can pick. 

The pile contains an assortment of books including inspirationals, mainstream,
autobiographies, self-help, devotionals and children's books, all new.

And yesterday I added the latest Dean Koontz novel, What the Night Knows, to the pile. 
Winner beware!
I haven't read Dean Koontz, but I understand his books are NOT of the inspirational genre, nor are they for the faint of heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And how did I end up with a Dean Koontz novel? That's a story in itself...
If you read Regency, you probably know the works of NYT best selling author, Mary Balogh. Mary and I often travel to meetings of the Saskatchewan Romance Writers (SRW) together. This past Saturday when I stopped to pick her up, she thunked a small suitcase into the back of my van and told me she was running away from home. She was joking.

It turned out this generous author was bringing copies of her new hardcover novel,
The Proposal, as well as a paperback copy of Dean Koontz' latest novel,
What the Night Knows, to give each member in attendance.
(Lesson: if you don't attend the meeting, you might miss something great!) 

I took a photo of Mary signing her own book, and
another one with Mary holding her book with the cover facing us. 
I sent to the later one to Mary, and it now appears on her Facebook page  
as well as the official explanation of why she's promoting DK.
(Hint - she received his in error)
 
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10 Comments

Christa Allan: Camellia Manor: Back to the 1840s & Giveaway

2/19/2012

 

This week we welcome Christa Allan to Author Memories.

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Christa Allan teaches high school English in Louisiana and received her National Board Certification in 2007.  She's the mother of five, and Grammy of two precious (of course!) grandgirls.  She and her husband recently moved to an 1840s home in the historic Bywater District in New Orleans.  Christa and Ken are happily anticipating retirement, chasing their three neurotic cats, and sometimes dodging hurricanes.
Christa writes not-your-usual Christian fiction, stories that focus on redemption for the broken.

Camellia Manor: Back to the 1840s
by Christa Allan

In ways so unexpected I could have never predicted them, my life has come full circle. Born in New Orleans, I am now, over fifty years later, living once again in the city, in a home built almost 175 years ago. And with this recent move, the memories of my grandmother resonate with each discovery I make in my new-old home.

When my parents moved to the suburbs after my brother was born, my grandmother came with us. But during the first four years of my life, we lived on Ursuline Street in New Orleans, in my grandmother’s house. My own memories of that home are fuzzy, most of them made sharper by Gram’s recollections. It was a shotgun home, like most built during its time. Gram always said they were called “shotgun” homes because a gun could be fired from the front door and exit the back door without ever hitting a wall.

This is a picture of the house as it looks today. We lived on the left side, and when we lived there the house was painted white, with green shutters.
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Gram's old house in New Orleans
Gram and I used to walk to the bakery on the corner, and we’d always get lagniappe (a little something extra) with our purchases. On the other corner was Chris’ Steak House, which would eventually become the first of the Ruth’s Chris Steakhouses (another long and colorful story!). I remember the wallpaper in my bedroom, the one Gram and I shared, the large cabbage rose design that sometimes seemed to dance when I woke up in the middle of the night. During the day, I’d entertain myself trying on my father’s and mother’s hats, since I could easily see myself in the mirrors of the tall armoirs, which served as closets. Houses in New Orleans were taxed according to the number of rooms, so eliminating a closet meant the room wouldn’t be taxed.
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Gram and Christa in 1953
We didn’t have cats because Gram never recovered from being scratched by one. She said that after the picture below was taken, the cat on her lap jumped up and clawed both sides of her face.
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Gram c1890
I longed to live in an old home in the city again, but it took moving from Metaire to Kenner to Liberty, TX to Houston, TX to Metaire to Abita Springs for it to happen again.

My husband needed to be closer to work, and through what could only be called a God-incidence, we found the perfect home, in the Bywater District of New Orleans. Built in the 1840s and expanded there-after by a series of owners, the house sits on three lots on the corner. Called Camellia Manor by the former owners (her father planted unusual and beautiful camellias on the property), the home used to be a bed and breakfast. Downstairs and up, the ceilings are 13 feet, and separating some of the rooms are the original cypress pocket doors. One of the owners said she had occasion to visit with mother and daughter ghosts, but she asked them to leave the home. Of course, my husband and I smiled, thinking it made for an interesting story, perfect for the quirky artsy community in which we now lived.

But then. . .

Since we’ve moved in, the fan in the upstairs hall often turns on, to full speed by itself. The light on the fan also turns on and off of its own accord. On more than one occasion, I’ve arrived home from work to find lights on that had been turned off when we left that morning.

Our bedroom fan also has a mind of its own. During the night, my husband will turn it on, then minutes later it’s off again. Or, he’ll turn it off, and it turns on sometime after that.
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Camellia Manor
Separating our bedroom from my office is a tall, wood-paneled door (original to the house, with its original door knob). Our headboard actually backs against the door leaving only a few inches opening. We close the door and come home only to find it open again. One evening, while sitting in my wing back chair by the door, grading papers, the knob turned and the door opened. Seriously. It was a distinct unlatching, and I tossed the papers on the floor and sped down the stairs. Fortunately, my brother and his partner were home (they live downstairs), so I had some human company until I could unwind!

I tramped upstairs sometime later, announcing, “I’m coming up!” At first, I hesitated even sharing this with people for fear I’d come off like a total wingnut. But people who know me well, are aware that I’m not one to give credence to the whole notion of ghosts. But I suppose when you live in the voodoo capital of the country, there’s bound to be a few loose creatures running around.

Lately, I’ve joked that I’d welcome any sort of kindly spirits as long as they participated in cleaning, cooking, laundry…If some of that would happen mysteriously, then I’d truly believe! But, alas, it hasn’t.

And while I’m not totally convinced someone or two else may be living rent-free in our house, I’m not totally convinced they aren’t. I’ve not spent a night alone, so I don’t want to boast that I’ve conquered the creepy feelings. I’m still experiencing a wee bit of hair-on-my-neck tingling when I walk up the staircase at night. I continue to sit in my wingback chair, but I’ve not closed the bedroom/office door since it opened that night.

Of course, the writer in me is stirring this around and brewing a gumbo of a story! During the summer, I plan to visit the archives in New Orleans to unearth as much information about the house as possible. There’s also a former slave cottage on the property. It’s uninhabitable, but I’m sure it has a history all its own.

I don’t know if the mom and her daughter are still hanging out. If they are, I think my grandmother might be joining them because I know she would be thrilled to find her granddaughter back in the city she loved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GIVEAWAY!
Leave a comment with a valid email address by midnight, Feb 26th
to be entered in a draw for a copy of  Christa Allan's first Historical,
Love Finds You in New Orleans, Louisiana.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Love Finds You In New Orleans, Louisiana, Summerside Press, Available now

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Raised by her grandparents in 19th-century New Orleans, Charlotte knows little about her long-lost parents.

Now facing an arranged marriage to a suitor she dreads, she finds herself attracted to somebody else: a young Creole man named Gabriel Girod.

Meanwhile, her grandparents harbor a family secret.

Will the truth set everybody free—especially Charlotte?


Where you can find Christa:

Christa Allan, Author Website
Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn

Blogs I contribute to:


Inspire a Fire
Choose WOW Ministries: Educating Teens
Girlfriends Book Club

Valerie Hansen: Writin' and Ropin' and 3 Book Giveaway

10/2/2011

 

This week we welcome Valerie Hansen to Author Memories.

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Valerie Hansen has always loved to write. 
Her basic nature is to enjoy every day to the fullest – and that includes her writing. She’s always loved stories about people who have successfully met and overcome life’s challenges, as has she.  Valerie and her husband now live on an eighty acre farm in northern Arkansas. She loves to hike the rocky, wooded hills behind the picturesque old house they renovated, watch for the wildlife so abundant in the area, and think up new ideas for her many books.
 


Writin' and Ropin'
by Valerie Hansen

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 I can’t remember far enough back in my childhood to recall a time when I didn’t want to be someone who lived and worked in the country. Having a writer’s and storyteller’s mind, it was easy for me to imagine that kind of scenario when I had my picture taken on this pony. Even before we found the old photo I was well aware of the event. I had never seen a real horse before and having a chance to actually touch and ride it, even for such a short time, was a dream come true.

My family lived in a big city in Ohio (don’t tell my current AR neighbors that I was born a Yankee, okay?) and the closest I got to animals in those days was the occasional dog or cat.
 
However, I did have a set of holsters and cap guns that I used to “shoot” anything that moved and a few things that didn’t. I understand that those kinds of working toys are no longer available and it saddens me. I didn’t turn out to be a psychopath ( honest I didn’t) but I did use my mind to create my own world, one in which I rode the open plains with the daring characters of Zane Gray and saved the settlers daily by carrying news to the fort. That is, unless it was my turn to be an Indian, which was fine, too. I had an equal opportunity imagination. Still do, which may be why I actually received letters from American Indians praising my research for some of my historical novels.

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Time passed. My husband retired.  We left California for the “wilds” of Arkansas – and I came into my own.

Not only am I able to live the life I had fantasized about I can also use the Ozarks as the backdrop for many of my Christian novels for Love Inspired. That has been a double blessing.

In NIGHTWATCH, my October Love Inspired Suspense, I begin to feature CASA, “Court Appointed Special Advocates” for children. These are volunteers who speak for the helpless and defend their rights in court. I’m every bit as proud to tell their story as I would be if I had just galloped my pony into town to warn the settlers of a pending attack.
 
There are all kinds of heroes and the folks who work for CASA are high on my list.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leave a comment by midnight, Oct 9th to be entered to win:
 a copy of Valerie's October release, 
Nightwatch
as well 2 other books of Valerie's choice
 for a prize package of 3 books to one reader/winner.
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightwatch, Love Inspired Suspense, Oct 2011

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Back of the Book

Fire captain Mitch Andrews can't forget the three young children he saved from a fire. A suspicious fire that left them orphans. In the care of foster mother Jill Kirkpatrick, he knows the little ones will be loved. Even if the sweet, strong widow won't let Mitch close to her. But suddenly the kids—and Jill—are in terrible danger…and one of the children is missing. Mitch and Jill will risk everything to find the stolen girl and keep a makeshift family of five together forever.

Read Excerpt

Visit Valerie at www.ValerieHansen.com
 
Valerie is a member of the www.loveinspiredauthors.com group blog.
 

Jennifer AlLee: A Girl's Best Friend & Book Giveaway

9/4/2011

 

This week we welcome Jennifer AlLee to Author Memories 

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Jennifer believes the most important thing a woman can do is discover her identity in God – a theme that carries throughout her stories. She's done extensive freelance work for Concordia Publishing House, including skits, Bible activity pages, and over 100 contributions to their popular My Devotions series. Her previous novels are The Love of His Brother, (Five Star, November 2007) and The Pastor’s Wife (Abingdon Press, February 2010). Her next novel is The Mother Road (Abingdon Press, April 2012).  Jennifer lives in the grace-filled city of Las Vegas, Nevada with her husband and college-bound son.

A Girl's Best Friend
by Jennifer AlLee

When I was a kid, my family lived above a mortuary. And not just any mortuary. This one was in the heart of downtown Hollywood. To give you some perspective… this is a picture of my grandmother and I standing outside our home. The mortuary is the building to our right. The street behind us, running from left to right, is Hollywood Boulevard. If you look closely behind the building in the upper left corner, you can see the spire of the Capitol Records building. Yep, we were smack dab in the middle of the big city.
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Living above a mortuary has its challenges. Solitude is one of them. It’s not like you can invite a lot of friends over to play. My mom was probably thinking about the solitude issue when she chose to buy me a dog for my second birthday. Since space was an issue it had to be a small dog, which is how I ended up with Tinkerbell, my Chihuahua.
 
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Tinkerbell was about the best friend a girl could have. Her breed is usually known for being high-strung, but she was pretty easygoing. At least with me. I remember one time, during my “I want to be a vet” stage, I decided to practice bandaging techniques on her. She sat there patiently while I ripped an old dress of my great-grandma’s into strips and wound them around her paws and body. When she’d had enough she ran off, leaving a trail of raggedy material behind her.

But Tink was more than just a playmate. When I was about three years old, she saved my life.

My mom and I were in our apartment. She was in the bedroom, talking on the phone (back in the olden days when all phones had chords and you couldn’t roam the house freely while you chatted). I was in the living room, at the other end of the apartment. The doorbell rang. I drug a hassock over and stood on it so I could undo the security chain, then I opened the door. There was a man outside. I don’t remember if he said anything, but he picked me up and ran down the hall with me. I started screaming.

Then Tinkerbell came to the rescue. She charged down the hall, yipping and barking, her little legs pumping like crazy. She caught up to the guy and sank her teeth into his ankle. He dropped me and ran down the stairs. After my mom got me and everyone calmed down (including my great-grandmother and grandmother, who also lived above the mortuary) my mom went looking for Tinkerbell. She was standing downstairs at the open door, looking out into the street. I like to think she was standing guard, making sure the bad man didn’t come back.

So who would want to kidnap me? It’s all very soap opera-ish, the friend of an angry ex trying to teach somebody a lesson, etc… Obviously, I was just fine. But if not for my awesome dog, who knows what would have happened.

After an experience like that, you might expect me to have a dog today. But I don’t.
I doubt another dog could follow her lead. Tinkerbell was my hero.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leave a comment with a valid email address by midnight, Sep 11th
if you want to be entered to win a copy of Jennifer's novel,
The Pastor's Wife.
Name will also go in the draw for the
Welcome Prize Giveaway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Book Trailer for Jennifer's novel: The Pastor's Wife
The Pastor's Wife, Abingdon Press
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Website - www.jenniferallee.com

Personal Blog –  http://jenniferallee.blogspot.com/

Group Blog - http://inkwellinspirations.blogspot.com/

Twitter – @jallee

Facebook –  http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jennifer-AlLee-Readers-Group/131032373641802?sk=wall 

The Pastor's Wife Speaks - a blog for women living on the front lines of ministry - http://thepastorswifespeaks.blogspot.com/
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