tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34678453239872755652024-03-14T11:57:23.282-05:00In all your ways acknowledge Him...Chaos & Laughter from our little part of the universeSusanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-70651510004243414582011-11-30T22:00:00.001-06:002011-11-30T22:03:20.659-06:00The Best Things<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>The best things in life are nearest: </strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Breath in your nostrils, </strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>light in your eyes, </strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>flowers at your feet, </strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>duties at your hand, </strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>the path of right just before you. </strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Then do not grasp at the stars, </strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>but do life's plain, common work </strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>as it comes, </strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life. </strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">~Robert Louis Stevenson</span></em></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong></strong></span>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-12499176958282539632010-08-18T16:31:00.002-05:002010-08-18T18:56:16.288-05:00The Artist Writes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">This month we are celebrating my Mom's first book!</span></strong> </div>
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After teaching Art for many years at the local High School, my mom retired to travel and write. Her stories have been published in <em>Christian Woman Magazine</em> and <em>Guidepost Books</em>. Set in rural Arkansas in the 1880's, <strong><em>No Tattletales</em></strong> is especially significant to our family because it is based on the life of my great grandmother, Mary Jane James, and on stories passed down through our family for generations. </div>
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Some of the privileged few who have managed to acquire an early copy of this coveted historical novel. You can get your copy of <strong><em>No Tattletales</em></strong> from Barnes & Noble, Amazon.com or AuthorHouse.com. </div>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-15559461678687430402010-07-15T22:53:00.002-05:002010-07-15T23:19:36.082-05:00Swimming SafetyAt 18 months I enrolled my first born in swimming lessons, when number two came along she was jumping into the shallow end of a pool by the time she could walk. Number three, my fearless dare devil, would catapult himself off of the diving board into the deep end and he was still wearing swimming diapers. When the kids were little I worried about their safety around water. Because of that fear, I made sure they could swim before they were even potty trained. It gave me some peace of mind, yet they never swam unless they were supervised by an adult. Years have passed since my first toddler-in-the-water-anxiety attacks. Water sports have turned out to be a way of life for the younger two, who both swim competitively and are doing quite well. I came across this article and decided to re post it here. We have swim meets for the next three weekends, prayers for each to do their best would be appreciated!<br />
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Drowning Doesn’t Look Like Drowning<br />
by Mario Vittone on May 18, 2010<br />
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The new captain jumped from the cockpit, fully dressed, and sprinted through the water. A former lifeguard, he kept his eyes on his victim as he headed straight for the owners who were swimming between their anchored sportfisher and the beach. “I think he thinks you’re drowning,” the husband said to his wife. They had been splashing each other and she had screamed but now they were just standing, neck-deep on the sand bar. “We’re fine, what is he doing?” she asked, a little annoyed. “We’re fine!” the husband yelled, waving him off, but his captain kept swimming hard. ”Move!” he barked as he sprinted between the stunned owners. Directly behind them, not ten feet away, their nine-year-old daughter was drowning. Safely above the surface in the arms of the captain, she burst into tears, “Daddy!”<br />
How did this captain know – from fifty feet away – what the father couldn’t recognize from just ten? Drowning is not the violent, splashing, call for help that most people expect. The captain was trained to recognize drowning by experts and years of experience. The father, on the other hand, had learned what drowning looks like by watching television. If you spend time on or near the water (hint: that’s all of us) then you should make sure that you and your crew knows what to look for whenever people enter the water. Until she cried a tearful, “Daddy,” she hadn’t made a sound. As a former Coast Guard rescue swimmer, I wasn’t surprised at all by this story. Drowning is almost always a deceptively quiet event. The waving, splashing, and yelling that dramatic conditioning (television) prepares us to look for, is rarely seen in real life.<br />
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The Instinctive Drowning Response – so named by Francesco A. Pia, Ph.D., is what people do to avoid actual or perceived suffocation in the water. And it does not look like most people expect. There is very little splashing, no waving, and no yelling or calls for help of any kind. To get an idea of just how quiet and undramatic from the surface drowning can be, consider this: It is the number two cause of accidental death in children, age 15 and under (just behind vehicle accidents) – of the approximately 750 children who will drown next year, about 375 of them will do so within 25 yards of a parent or other adult. In ten percent of those drownings, the adult will actually watch them do it, having no idea it is happening (source: CDC). Drowning does not look like drowning – Dr. Pia, in an article in the Coast Guard’s On Scene Magazine, described the instinctive drowning response like this:<br />
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Except in rare circumstances, drowning people are physiologically unable to call out for help. The respiratory system was designed for breathing. Speech is the secondary or overlaid function. Breathing must be fulfilled, before speech occurs. <br />
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Drowning people’s mouths alternately sink below and reappear above the surface of the water. The mouths of drowning people are not above the surface of the water long enough for them to exhale, inhale, and call out for help. When the drowning people’s mouths are above the surface, they exhale and inhale quickly as their mouths start to sink below the surface of the water. <br />
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Drowning people cannot wave for help. Nature instinctively forces them to extend their arms laterally and press down on the water’s surface. Pressing down on the surface of the water, permits drowning people to leverage their bodies so they can lift their mouths out of the water to breathe. <br />
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Throughout the Instinctive Drowning Response, drowning people cannot voluntarily control their arm movements. Physiologically, drowning people who are struggling on the surface of the water cannot stop drowning and perform voluntary movements such as waving for help, moving toward a rescuer, or reaching out for a piece of rescue equipment. <br />
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From beginning to end of the Instinctive Drowning Response people’s bodies remain upright in the water, with no evidence of a supporting kick. Unless rescued by a trained lifeguard, these drowning people can only struggle on the surface of the water from 20 to 60 seconds before submersion occurs. <br />
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(Source: On Scene Magazine: Fall 2006 (page 14))<br />
This doesn’t mean that a person that is yelling for help and thrashing isn’t in real trouble – they are experiencing aquatic distress. Not always present before the instinctive drowning response, aquatic distress doesn’t last long – but unlike true drowning, these victims can still assist in their own rescue. They can grab lifelines, throw rings, etc.<br />
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Look for these other signs of drowning when persons are in the water:<br />
Head low in the water, mouth at water level <br />
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Head tilted back with mouth open <br />
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Eyes glassy and empty, unable to focus <br />
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Eyes closed <br />
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Hair over forehead or eyes <br />
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Not using legs – Vertical <br />
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Hyperventilating or gasping <br />
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Trying to swim in a particular direction but not making headway <br />
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Trying to roll over on the back <br />
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Ladder climb, rarely out of the water. <br />
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So if a crew member falls overboard and everything looks OK – don’t be too sure. Sometimes the most common indication that someone is drowning is that they don’t look like they’re drowning. They may just look like they are treading water and looking up at the deck. One way to be sure? Ask them, “Are you alright?” If they can answer at all – they probably are. If they return a blank stare, you may have less than 30 seconds to get to them. And parents – children playing in the water make noise. <em>When they get quiet, you get to them and find out why.</em>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-58273371740421311162010-06-14T22:52:00.003-05:002010-06-14T23:46:47.881-05:00Is It Summer Yet?<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLhdtCaBBOdbUnLcjjdxpWsH60BgZaIgv23Sttu8SeUqnEFsDPDczOlhSq1FxUoJGrPmov3C9nQ4XNj-0fT3sYe5Yz4phs7lX52dpcCiN87wsB-DNl4ku_y1t3tzl-knp6t78eU3vluWSs/s1600/DSCN0658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLhdtCaBBOdbUnLcjjdxpWsH60BgZaIgv23Sttu8SeUqnEFsDPDczOlhSq1FxUoJGrPmov3C9nQ4XNj-0fT3sYe5Yz4phs7lX52dpcCiN87wsB-DNl4ku_y1t3tzl-knp6t78eU3vluWSs/s200/DSCN0658.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZAKZiuKqs1_bEQ2gX-Fn_ryK5e8K09Ip84R7kTM4NxenkX9r0jAb_dHAlihkerVkK-9gQqsM5PIFHhTrcS0CdpfycLw7DVS13_3QgQErK1_ItUnNkt5ZJRrGrGyf_nKjb5PKgOeQMlw-m/s1600/DSCN0250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZAKZiuKqs1_bEQ2gX-Fn_ryK5e8K09Ip84R7kTM4NxenkX9r0jAb_dHAlihkerVkK-9gQqsM5PIFHhTrcS0CdpfycLw7DVS13_3QgQErK1_ItUnNkt5ZJRrGrGyf_nKjb5PKgOeQMlw-m/s200/DSCN0250.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrz9bTm-KCg2mRqHMSlGU44Mi7RD7kAzMlbPhgq2kPNUkWKIZY6aaEBs6jNvLnqa5tqQ9l__UrM3LLwx5Gh27m-gk1cdD4KvJBmxiV4BQKLqX5SyUlzCbujU0NTAAC7AxiGuICGvtxpAwa/s1600/DSCN1057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrz9bTm-KCg2mRqHMSlGU44Mi7RD7kAzMlbPhgq2kPNUkWKIZY6aaEBs6jNvLnqa5tqQ9l__UrM3LLwx5Gh27m-gk1cdD4KvJBmxiV4BQKLqX5SyUlzCbujU0NTAAC7AxiGuICGvtxpAwa/s200/DSCN1057.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ENSCdQS9hFN5ZzUs2ykYjiK23KHY2Un1w_uC8sKpg0JOIQmDCnub0xkEoJgKLY_wEIcs7jsuQg5qCJREwFEqVYdGnvuRln-jp2dXfmzi8PLfePapDKP8ykc6ct4KWVB75FiAqaBy2euf/s1600/DSCN1115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ENSCdQS9hFN5ZzUs2ykYjiK23KHY2Un1w_uC8sKpg0JOIQmDCnub0xkEoJgKLY_wEIcs7jsuQg5qCJREwFEqVYdGnvuRln-jp2dXfmzi8PLfePapDKP8ykc6ct4KWVB75FiAqaBy2euf/s200/DSCN1115.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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Each year the end of school activities usher in the beginning of summer fun. We have competed in Special Olympics, Field Day, Clarinet Recitals, Violin and Band concerts, multiple awards ceremonies and year end dances. Summer is officially here and Jack is expecting rain!</div>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-4062771824860676712010-05-06T11:23:00.003-05:002010-05-06T11:28:08.442-05:00When did it become cool to be a nerd?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My daughter and her friends went to one of those new fangled 3D movies. Instead of tossing the 3D glasses in the recycle bin on the way out of the theater, they poked the lenses out and put the frames on, laughing all the way out to the car as they pretended to be hard core nerds. What's even more curious is, they hung on to these black plastic spectacles and pulled them out of the dark recesses of their junk drawers in order to relive the nerd experience at a restaurant, months later. </div>
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Donning the nerd glasses has been so much fun that my daughter has even embellished her pair with lime green duct tape.</div>
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As a teenager, I do not remember being so self assured that I would go out in public to purposefully draw undue attention to myself wearing goofy anythings. I'm glad my daughter and her friends are confident enough to have fun and do goofy things at this age, instead of worrying about what people think of them. They must be truly "cool", in a nerd way...but what do I know, I'm old and I'm a real nerd.</div>
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<br /></div>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-42503941222341816672010-02-02T13:50:00.004-06:002010-02-02T16:07:23.145-06:00The State of the Union<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As I look back on 2009 I am greatful for all we have. Our oldest started High School this year and the transition was not difficult at all. I am glad that he does not really drive a car, that would be scary, but it is fun to see him sit behind the wheel of this 4-wheeler! The smart, pretty one was inducted into the National Junior Honor Society and we are proud of her. She made the volleyball and basketball team at her school again this year and is continuing to swim on the swim team. In addition she plays in the school band and has kept the 1st chair clarinet spot so far (knock on wood). She does not realize how smart and talented she is and she makes it all look so easy. Our youngest, the talker of the family, finished his second year on the football team and was proud to wear the green stripe (only the biggest boys get the green stripe). His position is offensive left tackle. He plays the violin in the Orchestra at his school, but has informed us that he does not want to do <em><strong>that</strong></em> again next year. I accentuate the word "<em><strong>that</strong></em>" because when he says it, he says it with disgust as if he is spitting out some bad tasting medicine. He also swims on the swim team and plays on a basketball team. All in all, it has been a good year. We are thankful for our family, our friends, our home, our health and the fact we have a job!Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-74403150599065529382010-02-01T22:11:00.002-06:002010-02-02T13:27:14.711-06:00What's been going on here!If it weren't for <strike>nagging</strike> prodding relatives, you know who you are, then this blog would not be updated today. I am shamed into rejoining the world of blogging, since my long hiatus from this time consuming endeavor. Blogging wouldn't be so bad if I didn't take so long to do it. What inevitably happens is, I do my update and then check on all my blogging friends. That's what takes so long. Before you know it, the day has flown by, the laundry and dishes have piled up and then hubs comes home from work, looks around and says..."So, what have you been doing all day?" "Paperwork", I say and smile.<br />
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The kids are growing and busy. We spent this past weekend at a Cub Scout Pinewood Derby, All City Band rehersals(and a lunch break with friends) followed by a swim meet. The pace never slows down and we all enjoy it like that. Nite all!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTu68UTbvUP0zwmHZF8kYk3OwICla3yJVNhWeejzBMPfp1QEALzyhtKBQ95C194yU3pwcQsc72M1iQtKHs1eSZB5GQ_UwCpD3mzKW6dO5I5o_GyDCU4L0KGa2XPk2sKZI_qWTqVfH10jlW/s1600-h/All+City+Band.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTu68UTbvUP0zwmHZF8kYk3OwICla3yJVNhWeejzBMPfp1QEALzyhtKBQ95C194yU3pwcQsc72M1iQtKHs1eSZB5GQ_UwCpD3mzKW6dO5I5o_GyDCU4L0KGa2XPk2sKZI_qWTqVfH10jlW/s320/All+City+Band.jpg" /></a></div>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-70778788085575293802009-01-18T22:21:00.004-06:002009-01-18T22:47:25.062-06:00Yawn and Stretch<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxWDPtwu4L9EDRBqr89eimTd2NZbgH_0KjqWnT-i6AFylQ3Yay3HUnY_gDL8YguUKx3yDRaY3v9wf1Q528GT1PgOMqPMExicKqazUlnKPrYk5mgvs8DByQJ-BD-hTqNw0W7pzD8YyZuWvB/s1600-h/CIMG0177.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxWDPtwu4L9EDRBqr89eimTd2NZbgH_0KjqWnT-i6AFylQ3Yay3HUnY_gDL8YguUKx3yDRaY3v9wf1Q528GT1PgOMqPMExicKqazUlnKPrYk5mgvs8DByQJ-BD-hTqNw0W7pzD8YyZuWvB/s320/CIMG0177.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292855710226389778" /></a>
After a bit of a blogging rest, I am crawling out of the cave where I've been hybernating. We have been passing around a cold germ since Christmas and I am still under the weather. Hopefully, I will be the last casualty of this bug. For more exciting family fun go visit my other blog, <a href="http://www.includingjack.blogspot.com">Including Jack</a>.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-35279315661311540472008-07-12T11:21:00.008-05:002008-07-12T11:53:56.106-05:00Where Dreams come True<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQ0P2W_qmkFGueXLW0Ak2JQ5btSp2aTjv7rNjXTWwooflr_h4Idn10bPq4xkGuZSaHJPHyiflZ_BP6_0mNdXfx0XRAz8bAOOMNKUyTuDt95b7zFPHTvkLbSmR5OwzNjIxA-K1GCfzIctO/s1600-h/100_3581.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222164135989856818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQ0P2W_qmkFGueXLW0Ak2JQ5btSp2aTjv7rNjXTWwooflr_h4Idn10bPq4xkGuZSaHJPHyiflZ_BP6_0mNdXfx0XRAz8bAOOMNKUyTuDt95b7zFPHTvkLbSmR5OwzNjIxA-K1GCfzIctO/s320/100_3581.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">
After a long sabbatical, it's good to be back online and back home. As you can see we've had a summer vacation, and I might add, it was magnificent. We wound our way through the south, stopping at one of the nicest beaches I've ever been too (Destin, Fl), on our way to none other than the very place where "Dreams come true"...DISNEY WORLD. The destination of all summer vacation destinations.
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</div></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX8MymYey8MamQWaQ6c0r-4Nis0ul_vWDQt6xLaGaNSgQ0NZ3aG9dzCniap8nUT9k2mcV1h9VzMIczuWMMl-7ZPwiP3470Mx3svV9-2UvJJtF5KexNg6JvIV15gchCg_KlBp88ANkgqqJb/s1600-h/100_3567.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222165835180158834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX8MymYey8MamQWaQ6c0r-4Nis0ul_vWDQt6xLaGaNSgQ0NZ3aG9dzCniap8nUT9k2mcV1h9VzMIczuWMMl-7ZPwiP3470Mx3svV9-2UvJJtF5KexNg6JvIV15gchCg_KlBp88ANkgqqJb/s320/100_3567.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> I was surprised at how easy the drive went, compared to road trips with my family when I was a kid. Back in the olden days we didn't have CD players, Nintendo DS, and cell phones to keep us entertained and connected with our friends while we were away. My daughter was content in the backseat snuggled up with her pillow and cell phone, happily texting away with her friends about nothing in particular. The boys entertained themselves with movies and games and hubs and I spent our time going back and forth over which road to take...darn GPS things...it created more controversy than an old fashioned map, but that's another story. </span><span style="font-size:130%;">What short cut to take and where the best restaurant was located all faded away, once we reached the Magic Kingdom. </span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggl7bo9r6IiapmglhSyKE5ilixIfPoN8wl5sewEBzUl8u0vdtCOTOZ5D2vEzu84_2uGEOu17O2iSDpkymu4LoMnFxrhqtrk3pw9JVGzrg8nDQDpAUBLTGtbmWKrhF49Q4ucljexOjjc_vF/s1600-h/100_3598.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222169505485907346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggl7bo9r6IiapmglhSyKE5ilixIfPoN8wl5sewEBzUl8u0vdtCOTOZ5D2vEzu84_2uGEOu17O2iSDpkymu4LoMnFxrhqtrk3pw9JVGzrg8nDQDpAUBLTGtbmWKrhF49Q4ucljexOjjc_vF/s320/100_3598.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>Disney World
</p></div>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-38199745929916234312008-04-19T20:39:00.006-05:002008-04-29T11:17:01.070-05:00Testing 123<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8M2BF008EmwcmDmcSJwyR1tSb1XrQqROEROYClaYa1pL_QRk80WGcXafkNBuEtlPMD6K5YGkLuscuJuqZsoCp7FBE7q9pX2jxQvaqBXYEgxwghufV9-dGH6f8zOmqUprfXWtaZ9J0KmsR/s1600-h/Garden.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194701340465510978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8M2BF008EmwcmDmcSJwyR1tSb1XrQqROEROYClaYa1pL_QRk80WGcXafkNBuEtlPMD6K5YGkLuscuJuqZsoCp7FBE7q9pX2jxQvaqBXYEgxwghufV9-dGH6f8zOmqUprfXWtaZ9J0KmsR/s320/Garden.jpg" border="0" /></a> Hello Bloggy Friends. </div><div align="center">I am sorry to say I am still having technical difficulties. I hope to be back online soon. </div><div align="center">Until then please talk amongst yourselves.
</div><div align="center"></div>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-15798894723672786872008-04-16T22:26:00.006-05:002008-04-19T19:44:22.960-05:00More Exciting than Cake?<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIc7JmDjnZPvILE0mFQJ3HYx62XGuRFa5ysirreTm5J0mXTAdC1Vwp4-gt2Vk0jglremnj0ggyk9-X1sovu2GVsRVH13UfVAQF2zWjS8DHpprqZjX3BfF5d0MD-iBvcegVROkbUEchHJOm/s1600-h/230.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190051887094956258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIc7JmDjnZPvILE0mFQJ3HYx62XGuRFa5ysirreTm5J0mXTAdC1Vwp4-gt2Vk0jglremnj0ggyk9-X1sovu2GVsRVH13UfVAQF2zWjS8DHpprqZjX3BfF5d0MD-iBvcegVROkbUEchHJOm/s320/230.JPG" border="0" /></a> What could be more exciting that chocolate birthday cake? Getting reconnected! I've been without an Internet connection since the big storm. Maybe it was a coincidence, but my Internet connection has not worked since that night. Thanks to hard work from Hubs, I'm back on line. Hurray. Many exciting events have occurred since I last blogged. I've been to swim meets, birthday parties, Volleyball victories and witnessed tween age mini dramas play out right before my eyes. It's good to be back.</div>
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<div align="center"></div>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-56585334514524173422008-03-30T15:37:00.007-05:002008-03-30T16:16:28.318-05:00The Beverly Hillbillies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1eX09Ohli6mxcB86-N3qtfVYCiyxuwubyvn6S3XB62k3hAK6cwg2dGC2ndShp7zvQwlMJI3-LJ3NXF7Xo_QVUFcqHG05LNI36Pl8CD5BGbhzsAZ_XDH9plp0Xaa5fszS2mDY6io-oeyp/s1600-h/Oil+Wells+at+sunset.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183638451110749170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1eX09Ohli6mxcB86-N3qtfVYCiyxuwubyvn6S3XB62k3hAK6cwg2dGC2ndShp7zvQwlMJI3-LJ3NXF7Xo_QVUFcqHG05LNI36Pl8CD5BGbhzsAZ_XDH9plp0Xaa5fszS2mDY6io-oeyp/s320/Oil+Wells+at+sunset.jpg" border="0" /></a>
Much to the delight of the community, our little town is sitting upon a 20 year reserve of natural gas. It has never been drilled before, because the price of natural gas has not been high enough to warrant getting to this reserve. This reserve has been hard to get to because of the shale that has to be cracked to get down to the gas, plus they have to do horizontal drilling which is a fairly new/costly technology.
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Every weekend I see gas folks walking the neighborhood, trying to get people to lease their mineral rights and give them access to the gas under their property. At the same time homeowner associations are banding together to try to negotiate better lease agreements between neighborhoods and the big gas companies that have come to town to court homeowners. There is strength in numbers. The media has begun to talk about these activities, and one comment this morning was"our part of the country will not see a recession because the gas reserve is our own little stimulus package". <p>The people who own the land where a drill site is located and people with large pieces of property, will fair pretty well. I just don't know how much income this will actually generate for a homeowner. Nevertheless, if it were a little warmer, I'd invite the neighbors over to have a BBQ to celebrate our good fortune and we'd all take a dip in the cement pond.
</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrdmhKRRkXgtDqFArhu0GhyphenhyphenG0MY-CFwqkTG43rZ8mr1Xt-4ab52yTqoqSyCxjhdXrElsHEyQim4VxfVBwHfb_XCUySEnjyWK9z2ozXEbWne1OjYOu77ILHGPAANgWnhr0_ayQDOjaU6oLO/s1600-h/beverlyhillbillies.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183644863496922114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrdmhKRRkXgtDqFArhu0GhyphenhyphenG0MY-CFwqkTG43rZ8mr1Xt-4ab52yTqoqSyCxjhdXrElsHEyQim4VxfVBwHfb_XCUySEnjyWK9z2ozXEbWne1OjYOu77ILHGPAANgWnhr0_ayQDOjaU6oLO/s320/beverlyhillbillies.jpg" border="0" /></a>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-52587080217501769892008-03-01T19:39:00.019-06:002008-03-01T21:36:42.578-06:00"Jumping Up and Down Screaming" WonderfulI don't know about you, but I can fill up an SD card with pictures in no time at all. Digital photos are better than sliced bread in my opinion. The reason I think it's so great is because I admire the technology and ingenuity behind uploading pictures and hurling them across time and space in the blink of an eye, to grandparents and friends near and far. The ease and speed with which that is done is very appealing. As I transferred my pictures from my camera to the computer today, I marveled at the speed with which all of our family activities were cataloged and preserved for who knows how long (hopefully longer that the time we own this computer, thankful for backups). I did pause to reflect on the nagging feeling that time was passing quickly. No other time do I feel that reminder, that time marches by, more strongly than when I look at pictures. If I took all of my digital pictures and scrolled through them from front to back, I could probably view all of them in an hour or two, and in that hour, I could watch the kids grow up before my eyes. A scary thought, but it only reminds me to make the most out of the day that God has given me.
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<em><span style="color:#3333ff;">This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. </span></em><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">Psalm 118:24</span></em>
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On that note, I would like to share with you the gladness we have enjoyed this past week...
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</div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW30psalSmRyjwLqRrbPZo33MQyQUIJ1U_OBxNWVWfjZvgemP40prxmDIprQj6oToglNNs_zjJqeDF8-Pu_1mj9zJF3Prx1kI01ihNTc1oY7Qum2KVkbddb5WuM1LcCO478rOoQhB-Al3E/s1600-h/100_2547.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172968937210753234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW30psalSmRyjwLqRrbPZo33MQyQUIJ1U_OBxNWVWfjZvgemP40prxmDIprQj6oToglNNs_zjJqeDF8-Pu_1mj9zJF3Prx1kI01ihNTc1oY7Qum2KVkbddb5WuM1LcCO478rOoQhB-Al3E/s320/100_2547.JPG" border="0" /></a>My daughters joy of a personal best in the 200 IM at the swim meet, and my son's joy that the swim meet was over.
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZ6V_vVrojw5V7q3GBm1Ojq37vgNq2wPCzMq7n6GNAQd8ti8tQYnXKjg86PbpnAZ5cf63abvQd0tuxXDB8b1bRXzOPDBrld1jcs5oSdOC5CMcTEP59ilZxrnckBE30Irjvawrq0zvTxVI/s1600-h/100_5629.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172972433314132194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZ6V_vVrojw5V7q3GBm1Ojq37vgNq2wPCzMq7n6GNAQd8ti8tQYnXKjg86PbpnAZ5cf63abvQd0tuxXDB8b1bRXzOPDBrld1jcs5oSdOC5CMcTEP59ilZxrnckBE30Irjvawrq0zvTxVI/s320/100_5629.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>The joy of being silly at school in a lip sync contest.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupxWQ6rPuaTCFCODPVTsQHkQO0GOONjAlL8N3up-zQcw89kbRFbKyuZxwHE-CJxFSG_th9kA7MqrvdXJnRsGBQdBHP3-YKtr_X3IzQURrndRfTV9jcMPKSF_kOTrlbKW07XZJ6DT4ebYD/s1600-h/100_2728.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172973296602558706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupxWQ6rPuaTCFCODPVTsQHkQO0GOONjAlL8N3up-zQcw89kbRFbKyuZxwHE-CJxFSG_th9kA7MqrvdXJnRsGBQdBHP3-YKtr_X3IzQURrndRfTV9jcMPKSF_kOTrlbKW07XZJ6DT4ebYD/s320/100_2728.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>The joy of a family wedding...
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvCe-1X23Doy0dpYCnw0noHbKUKORuv24FgOC1IOaadTIcr_1dCixMZ5ODnRZBHY1KoCuNy0Bt_pQKOj3VYlFm-_0Cyg3GedhFlZxumh8i4XF4TKITdcYjcA_UBWumJOe6Yj020NmhCTNC/s1600-h/100_2739.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172973945142620418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvCe-1X23Doy0dpYCnw0noHbKUKORuv24FgOC1IOaadTIcr_1dCixMZ5ODnRZBHY1KoCuNy0Bt_pQKOj3VYlFm-_0Cyg3GedhFlZxumh8i4XF4TKITdcYjcA_UBWumJOe6Yj020NmhCTNC/s320/100_2739.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>and realizing that you won't die if you have to dress up in a suit and tie.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3UXgJgQMwgLXIYNPXEJtXFFc7XcT9zS7GRQwFMylooTlZ5mU0Rhb3aFlkL1ozhzW_kYcO4U6K73JsUsA3Nv25aQiTWk2e7C2bnWlgMnU5f9E9QsBfwVrgtKU5JOCnLVMkvw6BS749eQT8/s1600-h/100_2741_edited-1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172974670992093458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3UXgJgQMwgLXIYNPXEJtXFFc7XcT9zS7GRQwFMylooTlZ5mU0Rhb3aFlkL1ozhzW_kYcO4U6K73JsUsA3Nv25aQiTWk2e7C2bnWlgMnU5f9E9QsBfwVrgtKU5JOCnLVMkvw6BS749eQT8/s320/100_2741_edited-1.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>The joy of knowing that chocolate cake awaits you, and that there will be plenty of leftovers, because what you see here is only the grooms cake!
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXXksHlBfHeueHl4dayeB_T2GRPtq38E89Ide_mxcPEuSNMDCQ-yk2-6CzfpBV9kjXTockoGpCmm_wWJj-hRZCVfEK4F3skSaDfGgMKzAmdlU6O0QQAnA9Wzh_p2SXpu3r7jzrZBrbpI9/s1600-h/100_2753.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172975521395618082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXXksHlBfHeueHl4dayeB_T2GRPtq38E89Ide_mxcPEuSNMDCQ-yk2-6CzfpBV9kjXTockoGpCmm_wWJj-hRZCVfEK4F3skSaDfGgMKzAmdlU6O0QQAnA9Wzh_p2SXpu3r7jzrZBrbpI9/s320/100_2753.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>The joy of getting "hard to get" tickets to the most exciting concert of your life and getting "jumping up and down screaming" crazy with your cousin (thank goodness for earplugs).
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMl-22xUDyCIQKYYj-WYfFDfL_4ZeTD0P9t6hSzrBlQwRfZDUikYsFYtZbbcKQykz_vEr2KGUPdKOl2AOkZWlThP6YNRqZG-2P8FX95S0h323yV6dgTt10-6oIOFvj5O1pJgE6ZRcar_D/s1600-h/100_2754.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMl-22xUDyCIQKYYj-WYfFDfL_4ZeTD0P9t6hSzrBlQwRfZDUikYsFYtZbbcKQykz_vEr2KGUPdKOl2AOkZWlThP6YNRqZG-2P8FX95S0h323yV6dgTt10-6oIOFvj5O1pJgE6ZRcar_D/s320/100_2754.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172976273014894898" /></a>
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May God bless you and your family with a "jumping up and down screaming" wonderful week like he has given us.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-69592067175532195902008-02-12T13:49:00.000-06:002008-02-12T14:09:59.962-06:00I Said It's Too Dangerous<div><embed src="http://apps.rockyou.com/rockyou.swf?instanceid=102295722&ver=102906" quality="high" salign="lt" width="426" height="319" wmode="transparent" name="rockyou" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"/></embed><br><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/?type=slideshow&refid=102295722"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/logo.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/slideshow_create.php?refid=102295722&source=cyo"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/create_own.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/show_my_gallery.php?instanceid=102295722"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/view_all.gif"></a></div>
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What is it about kids, when you tell them something is dangerous, it makes them want to do it that much more? Our trampoline is in disrepair. The safety net that enclosed the trampoline got torn in several places (because our wild kids and their friends would throw themselves at the safety net and bounce off again), so we took it off. The bumper pads that cover the springs, have come to pieces in spots and it needs to be replaced. I mentioned this to my husband, the fact that we needed to get a new safety net and bumper pads, because the kids hadn't jumped on the trampoline in months. Well wouldn't you know, they all heard me complain about how dangerous it was to have this thing on the hard concrete in our back yard, so they just had to all pile on it, husband included.
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One of their favorite trampoline games is "crack the egg", and the 2nd favorite one is "flip the bacon". I won't tell you the rules, but you can imagine how safe those games are in this trampoline. When the yard apes finish off this trampoline, I guess we'll get another one. Until then, I'll just keep the video camera close by and maybe you'll see us on " America's Funniest Home Video's".Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-40576625494026487102008-02-09T09:08:00.000-06:002008-02-11T09:52:34.354-06:00Whose Race Is This Anyway<div><embed src="http://apps.rockyou.com/rockyou.swf?instanceid=102160983&ver=102906" quality="high" salign="lt" width="426" height="319" wmode="transparent" name="rockyou" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"/></embed><br><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/?type=slideshow&refid=102160983"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/logo.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/slideshow_create.php?refid=102160983&source=cyo"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/create_own.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/show_my_gallery.php?instanceid=102160983"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/view_all.gif"></a></div>
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The Pinewood Derby is an annual event that kicks up a lot of excitement in our Cub Scout community. This year was my son's third year to race and he captured 3rd place in his age level. I thought his car was great and he had fun building it. He was not entirely happy with his placement, you might notice the attitude in the post race picture and the crossed arms as he's receiving his award. Last year he got 1st place in his age group and was on top of the world, but that's how it is when your the car to beat! Competition gets more intense every year.
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This year we had his den over to our house to cut out and sand the body of thier pinewood derby cars. One of my son's friends (actually his mother) made a point to get my husband to cut out a car identical to my son's winning car from last year. That car captured first place in the race, and my son noticed. He was a good sport about it, but he learned not to share his racing secrets with anyone (yes, there are racing secrets and it's very confidential I might add!) The Cub Scouts have to check in their cars the day before the race. At check in everyone has the opportunity to get a look at the competition, and I have learned enough about pinewood derbys that I can spot the potential winning cars. I can spot the winning families by how much graphite they have under their fingernails (including me, my husband, and my son in that order I might add, and that leads me to make the statement "Whose Race is this?"). The top cars are usually within a few tenths of a second difference in times, so you can imagine how competetive it can become.
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The races are run very well with a computer software measuring the finishes. It's quite a thrill to see the times flashed up on the video screen that's set up for the fans. Racing music plays in the background while parents and kids all fill up on pizza and coke. Oh, the thrill of victory.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-91784573465742548492008-02-05T12:55:00.000-06:002008-02-06T17:17:15.263-06:00When I was color blindI've waited a month to post this post, because I was not sure I knew how to properly write about this subject, yet I feel drawn to talk about it considering the geographical closeness of this incident to my neighborhood.
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Until recently, I had never spent much time contemplating race relations in our country or in our town. I grew up in a predominately white community and I don't remember any children of color attending my school until I reached Junior High. The most unhomogeneous aspect of the community was the answer to this question: "are you Catholic or Protestant?". Unbeknownst to me, in the late 60'2 and early 70's, a whole flurry of activity was swirling around in the world outside of my bubble...from the hippies and Woodstock, to the Civil Rights Movement, the Women's Movement and Watergate.
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When I was in third grade we studied slavery in the south and I was horrified when I found out that white people had black people as slaves. It was news to me. I can remember being ashamed to be white, and thinking what in the world were those people thinking. I was immediately determined to be nice and befriend any black kids that came my way, but in actuality, I never ran into any, and so I bopped along oblivious to the events happening in the world around. They say "ignorance is bliss" and it was for a time.
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When I got to High School, I was still unbelievably niave and so were my friends. I know that now, because that's when my friend Michelle and I looked at each other and I realized she was Hispanic and she realized I was white. Until High School apparently I had been color blind and so had my friend. That's because friendship trumps color everytime.
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Before you get the impression that I've never experienced anything outside of the little bubble of my community, I have to say that when I went to college, I was in the minority. My classmates were Syrian, Iraqui, Iranian, Jordanian and Israeli, Chineese and Japaneese and they were all men. That's what you got when you went to any Engineering School 25 years ago. Suddenly I didn't have that warm fuzzy feeling of knowing and understanding where people were coming from. What my classmates thought about the world around us was very different from what I thought about the world around us.
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But I've drifted from my subject...the topic of what has happend in our town recently. A black man and his girlfriend bought a house on the street that I grew up on, and not long after that a fire destroyed the house. They had origionally planned on tearing down the house and rebuilding a new house on that spot, so that is what they did, they took the insurance money from the fire and began construction. It has taken them two years to get to the point that they are now, in building their house, yet the house is still under construction and they have still not moved in.
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A neighbor lady (white) was walking her dogs in the neighborhood (off leash which is against the law in our town) and the lady(black) who is the girlfriend of the man building the house happened to be in her front yard and there was a confrontation and the white lady (who happens to be a 60+ senior citizen) hit the black lady with a 2 by 4 that was laying in the front yard. The black lady ended up in the hospital. Jeff Foxworthy and his "you might be a redneck if..." comes to mind as I'm writing this. </p><p>Even though our town is big, it still has that smalltown feel to those of us who grew up here. I happen to know the family of the white lady. But on with the story...not long after this incident someone painted words on the black mans garage door. I've cut out one of the inflamatory words, because I don't want to post something like that, but here's his garage door:
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9BJwb1xO-loRo8oYt-5Qs1eay_t44Cn1XpP1kXbUJV-PjPAfaBwk173EEcUln3At_tN0gALImMDl9d6D_0dRIHSy8nQpspz08yeUJeLT35pHMoq-DN4VgPfncrV-VDW0yoKqzMZIEMSd/s1600-h/100_2490Modified.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163590534196362066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9BJwb1xO-loRo8oYt-5Qs1eay_t44Cn1XpP1kXbUJV-PjPAfaBwk173EEcUln3At_tN0gALImMDl9d6D_0dRIHSy8nQpspz08yeUJeLT35pHMoq-DN4VgPfncrV-VDW0yoKqzMZIEMSd/s320/100_2490Modified.JPG" border="0" /></a>
The neighborhood, made up of little old retired folks and widows, was sincerely saddened and shocked that this happened to that man. I know that because my parents live within sight of this house. Most of the retired folks keep to themselves and don't get out much, because frankly they might just fall down with their walkers and hurt themselves. It is yet to be determined who may have done the graffiti, but the little old lady that's white, is the prime suspect (apparently she had been in jail they had let her out of jail , maybe good behavior, I don't know and then hauled her off again when the words appeared on the garage door).
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To make a long story, longer, the black man did not immediatly paint over this graffiti, but left it up for weeks, causing his neighbors, who had originally been concerned for him, to become agitated with him. Apparently he had no intention of painting over the graffiti, but gathered together some folks from the NAACP and they had a big march through the neighborhood (how'd you like to live in that neighborhood?).
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Needless to say, the neighborhood folks were not happy about the organized march and having to look at his garage door for weeks. In addition, all the uproar over the graffiti, caused people to forget that there was a lady who had been hit with a 2 by 4 on the street! The doors are now covered with a blue tarp, some folks from a nearby church convinced him to cover over the words, while he's waiting on replacement doors. When the replacements arrive he has decided to donate the old doors to a civil rights museum in another southern state. For awhile, things were hoppin' in the little old neighborhood, with police in patrol cars watching the house 24/7, but all that has passed and the neighborhood talk and all the activity has died down. I feel bad for the man and his girlfriend, and I feel bad for the neighbors who had to see those words everyday and host a march in their quiet neighborhood.
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It's too bad we have to grown up and realize each others differences. Things would be much simpler if we were all color blind.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-80587654896256227502008-02-01T14:09:00.000-06:002008-02-01T14:32:51.238-06:00Pick Me Pick Me<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh362pkqiMTa0PfvyrUWDHOa7YbdskQkDRLQXfZ8PbKn0Rbnj7wCycaaphUQ8GcZb7uBgqChZDQ4Aay8FSSsXUyaVNumnXwwuMKL7-nvPQs1b5x1W-P3ENriy2gOKgwR1dLoQ5PKqDyRgm/s1600-h/100_2518.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162108014564997954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh362pkqiMTa0PfvyrUWDHOa7YbdskQkDRLQXfZ8PbKn0Rbnj7wCycaaphUQ8GcZb7uBgqChZDQ4Aay8FSSsXUyaVNumnXwwuMKL7-nvPQs1b5x1W-P3ENriy2gOKgwR1dLoQ5PKqDyRgm/s320/100_2518.JPG" border="0" /></a>
Have you ever wanted something so badly, but when you got it, it turned out that it wasn't all that great after all? My daughter has experienced that recently. She finally got chosen for Safety Patrol duty. Can you tell she didn't want her picture taken? At first it was a coveted appointment until she realized that she had to be at school 30 minutes earlier than usual, and it has gotten quite chilly around here in the mornings. The prestige of waving a stop sign and blowing a whistle has gone by the wayside, as early morning fatigue sets in. She has four more weeks before she is relieved of duty.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-48318128380447777072008-01-04T09:38:00.000-06:002008-01-04T20:15:29.964-06:00Shopping for TreasuresThe after Christmas sales have never been a big deal to me. I'm not much of a shopper, because I don't like to fight the crowds, but the kids must have a stray shopping gene. They can't wait to get to the stores to spend the Christmas money that's burning a hole in their pockets. My oldest particularly likes to peruse the DVD isles. <p><div><embed src="http://apps.rockyou.com/rockyou.swf?instanceid=97421934&ver=102906" quality="high" salign="lt" width="426" height="319" wmode="transparent" name="rockyou" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"/></embed><br><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/?type=slideshow&refid=97421934"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/logo.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/slideshow_create.php?refid=97421934&source=cyo"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/create_own.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/show_my_gallery.php?instanceid=97421934"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/view_all.gif"></a></div>
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Amidst the flurry of Christmas activities this year, my youngest asked me out of the blue, "now why do we give each other gifts at Christmas?", "it's not our birthday, it's Jesus' birthday, right?". I thought to myself, this is another one of those trick questions kids ask grownups. Not wanting to flunk the grownup test and unsure of how to answer him, I ponder the idea of Christmas with no presents! Yikes! That would be awful. I think to myself, what was that story about St. Nicholas and how does that play into all of this gift giving ritual? Now, I'm feeling like the most uneducated mom, and make a mental note to research the St. Nick thing soon (surely there's a "Christmas Histories for dummies" book at the Christian book store that will tell me everything I need to know). Finally, I explained to him that we give gifts to the people we love, like the Wise Men(Maji) brought gifts to Jesus, to celebrate Christ's birth. He was happy with that answer and ran off do to what ever 9 year olds do, and I was happy that I had saved the Christmas gift giving tradition in our family. Whew, close call.
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This incident prompted me to remind the kids that all this stuff we give and get is just stuff to use and enjoy, but that our real treasures are in heaven.
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<strong><span style="color:#3333ff;"><em>But store up for yourselves, treasures in heaven where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. Matthew 6:20</em> </span></strong></p><p>
I have to admit, the shopping and the wrapping and the giving and the getting can be a distraction to my kids if I don't continually point them to Christ and remind them that... his birth is the reason we have joy and his death is the reason we have life.
</p>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-9147964381849404152008-01-03T09:32:00.000-06:002008-01-03T11:03:18.918-06:00A New Year<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivvqGW7QJJq3ZHq3d7yLQrG4WP83T3wBV1jYZtmxnt5Nr3pcwuaEV_-k5shyphenhyphen0Xqptwz6UbHLJfyLUY5k4ipMvd4xNGiyrt0aecP8DQ7EXjwc-5X64U2lTEQPFKHKmBxnM4Opp5XsZldcMB/s1600-h/100_2486.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151275318896358210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivvqGW7QJJq3ZHq3d7yLQrG4WP83T3wBV1jYZtmxnt5Nr3pcwuaEV_-k5shyphenhyphen0Xqptwz6UbHLJfyLUY5k4ipMvd4xNGiyrt0aecP8DQ7EXjwc-5X64U2lTEQPFKHKmBxnM4Opp5XsZldcMB/s320/100_2486.JPG" border="0" /></a>
Happy New Year blogging friends. I hope that you and your family had a wonderful Christmas with all of the blessings of family and fun. Our family had a great Christmas break and now we're back to our regular routines. I am thankful for that. Having so much fun can be tiring. We traveled north to visit family and got to actually see a little snow. Those of you who see it all the time are probably rolling your eyes right now, but where we live, snow is a rarity so it is really special when we get to actually see some of the cold fluffy stuff. I couldn't keep the kids out of it so they were soaking wet after a few minutes.
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Since pictures are worth 1000 words, I'm going to share several thousand words worth of pictures...and a glimpse into our holiday festivities.
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<div><embed src="http://apps.rockyou.com/rockyou.swf?instanceid=97318115&ver=102906" quality="high" salign="lt" width="426" height="320" wmode="transparent" name="rockyou" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"/></embed><br><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/?type=slideshow&refid=97318115"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/logo.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/slideshow_create.php?refid=97318115&source=cyo"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/create_own.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/show_my_gallery.php?instanceid=97318115"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/view_all.gif"></a></div>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-20402423143254903702007-12-23T13:22:00.000-06:002007-12-23T14:00:14.728-06:00Merry Christmas to allNo, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth, but I have been celebrating this season of Christ's birth. It's amazing what I can get done when I don't blog!
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Our family has enjoyed several Christmas Parties and Christmas Musical Celebrations. My daughter is now playing the Clarinet in the band (she gave up the viola for the clarinet) and she is suprisingly good at playing the clarinet (much better than the viola, ouch, I can testify to that, if your reading this honey, I'm just kidding you were ok at the viola, you're just better at the clarinet). So far, she has managed to stay in the first chair spot and I don't have to remind her to practice (which is a big improvement over last years episodes of "Nagging Mother knows Best")
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVdID7VCfBUQOZBMSYPrTrQpjItb30A5UeYgueGpTDhv6FEvZbJZdKfiz126d377oZyZKjgKLP5IcJy-6EVuILfphQAy_BUqV56ybFw5hLmfW9JvmmW5kz7aELyXL8PHS0-yVDwgkdDaT/s1600-h/100_2347.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147255792148017938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVdID7VCfBUQOZBMSYPrTrQpjItb30A5UeYgueGpTDhv6FEvZbJZdKfiz126d377oZyZKjgKLP5IcJy-6EVuILfphQAy_BUqV56ybFw5hLmfW9JvmmW5kz7aELyXL8PHS0-yVDwgkdDaT/s200/100_2347.JPG" border="0" /></a>
</p>
While I lectured her on signing up for two many activities, she managed to wrangle a speaking part in our church's yearly Christmas Pageant. The show was great and she did a good job.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty7IbURkDFDgcsu6csLudDVrlbyGPljgHdHeHX1Hrtz5tw9xhvyjjBPAvzqVEU69GeZVwVkQEiP1gli2C_XW3xsNDkqzKzJKFNhl2Y2KGucZi6y62-dEOdArOeEpqdufQbrnVBzRPKu2w/s1600-h/100_2385.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147258815804994338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty7IbURkDFDgcsu6csLudDVrlbyGPljgHdHeHX1Hrtz5tw9xhvyjjBPAvzqVEU69GeZVwVkQEiP1gli2C_XW3xsNDkqzKzJKFNhl2Y2KGucZi6y62-dEOdArOeEpqdufQbrnVBzRPKu2w/s200/100_2385.JPG" border="0" /></a>
</p>
I am now ready to sit around with family, sip hot cocoa, play silly board games, look at christmas lights, and share the season with friends and family. I pray
that you are having a Merry Christmas as well!Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-867742172501474312007-12-05T13:26:00.000-06:002007-12-05T14:00:14.168-06:00Master of One<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_iF_Wavbh1WVfNFZwJBul3fFaisxdy1iMct6bgmEIDjHxX8b9wd7Alh7bhwhvdxsBw8l2bFny5kdoOqKnFvZOrQhPb72X2JsEGBhUYyvrrFit6RIfES55FtdExHnTIfaQRKTaquU48VW/s1600-h/100_2296_edited-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_iF_Wavbh1WVfNFZwJBul3fFaisxdy1iMct6bgmEIDjHxX8b9wd7Alh7bhwhvdxsBw8l2bFny5kdoOqKnFvZOrQhPb72X2JsEGBhUYyvrrFit6RIfES55FtdExHnTIfaQRKTaquU48VW/s200/100_2296_edited-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140574781545521138" /></a>
<p>
The last game of the Volleyball season is over, and basketball starts next week (swim team goes on year round mind you). I love that the kids enjoy sports, and music, and scouts, but I'm ready to have them settle down and specialize in something. As a parent we want to give them every opportunity to explore their talents, and discover their strengths, whether it is in sports, music, academics, or other service type activities. I believe that is why we as parents have trouble saying "no more", but that is exactly why we should say "no more", because if we continually open doors, the opportunities available are more numerous than the time we have to try them all. All those choices seem to muddle the decision making process when it comes down to figuring out what activities my child needs to be involved in, and which need to go by the wayside.
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I once had someone tell me they were the Jack-of-all-trades, but Master of none. And now I know what that means. A person can be stretched to thin, you can be involved in a lot of things, but not really good at any of them. If you want to be really good at something you have to figure out what your gift is and concentrate in that area. Only then can you master what you set out to accomplish and be the very best at it.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-52737559550821455462007-11-25T10:43:00.001-06:002007-11-25T11:26:30.113-06:00Thankful for Family<div><embed src="http://apps.rockyou.com/rockyou.swf?instanceid=92567634&ver=102906" quality="high" salign="lt" width="426" height="320" wmode="transparent" name="rockyou" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"/></embed><br><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/?type=slideshow&refid=92567634"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/logo.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/slideshow_create.php?refid=92567634&source=cyo"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/create_own.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/show_my_gallery.php?instanceid=92567634"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/view_all.gif"></a></div>
<p align="center">
It's nice to get away from the hustle and bustle of our everyday life. We headed out to the old home place, my grandparents farm, 60+ acres of woods and meadow, 5 miles from nowhere, and an hour from any major after Thanksgiving shopping sales. My grandparents are not with us anymore, but we still have the farm. Being there reminds me of all the fun I had with them as a child; exploring the woods, running through the fields, gathering hen eggs, picking tomatoes, getting chased by Brahma Bulls, and fishing in the pond. I hope your Thanksgiving was like ours, filled with family fun.</p>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-47904078271176652562007-11-20T13:52:00.000-06:002007-11-20T15:41:31.844-06:00Smells Like ChristmasEvery year about this time, typically the day after Thanksgiving, I clear out a spot in our front room to set up the Christmas Tree, we use and artificial tree, the others make me sneeze. I try to do an extra good job of dusting and rearranging so that we have plenty of room for the tree, presents and Christmas decorations that find their way from the attic into the house. I also take this time to toss the old scented plug-ins and replace with my favorite Apple Cinnamon or similar Christmasy smells. When I did this last year, "the inventor" walked into the house after I had transformed the front room, saw the Christmas tree up, took a deep breath and said "Ah, Christmas air". I didn't tell him that it wasn't the artificial tree that he was smelling, but the wall plug-ins that I had just replaced. Why burst his bubble.
<p>
By far the most fun I have about this time of year is baking cookies. One of our favorite family traditions is baking and eating cookies while we put the ornaments on the tree. I do like Thanksgiving, but for me it is just the first celebration of the Christmas season. It's the warm up band for the main concert. When the last dish of the Thanksgiving meal has been washed and dried, I'm ready to break out the Christmas CD's, warm up the oven, and mix up a batch of cookies.
Here's a great place to find those recipes that you can't seem to locate in your recipe box.
<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#006600;"><strong>Mrs. Claus' Cookbook</strong></span></div><div align="center"></div>
<a href="http://www.northpole.com/Kitchen/Cookbook/cat0006.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135023081160040274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhICWjFd1xFe5keWADixzGnGVkeYW9Pn1n1uRjgZEaWDceKEcwWE0IIIgy3HKZYr4BSs53eWUa2d3TxJE8B2Gs40WOxjjrSxnd9ZQKEoh-uYuOG8BcbEHRJrvO57N2LTlbitGMJydfcAhlS/s200/Breads.bmp" border="0" /></a>
<a href="http://www.northpole.com/Kitchen/Cookbook/cat0001.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135019520632151810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0u5d3TN5NsBhWrgDTUWSv5_UFA8z_CPKC07sdtEsTFDTBYEbqq36lIkxyjmZ8AGeSaP946GFBZoWWn38PwcX36FQO6mA30qmARJ7NhD2oz7Zkx5FbOtfId24OEmbrMy6lz4mOWLxA6f3D/s200/Cookies.bmp" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.northpole.com/Kitchen/Cookbook/cat0005.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135020044618161938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNnqga-pBNPf7CEk-rCG27_48Q9CWL3y-B2Q2WD_m1d-9WEVA1KkH-TY8k5vkULKDd6QidZLr_rIwFvkNnCqNKCmm9koanCHaUECzn4enkyr7w39xG77040S1Zx4-ErBYrzLac1EddqxRF/s200/Candy.bmp" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.northpole.com/Kitchen/Cookbook/cat0002.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135020594373975842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXMz7iZIYcEsPD1VAiRdZG33v67w4L5_5npnpK-dDfSUV8sRZgRotshE7G_D56sGmaOF7sPbidTQdAQ4WR5k8QrkeuVTblaNGbR2mOgAcAG0yC53y8Fv-R2GekSokpESuyJc8p9_uwCWL/s200/Cakes.bmp" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.northpole.com/Kitchen/Cookbook/cat0003.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135022402555207474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLOBXLR0nJAr0_FZHngDclHwj_zdyk5KElXBFAMVfi1JwOmWwkBzLYjjM7RQ52QW0s26ImsUrKu2cAdRhCZLVPTtbTJrO1DgpVVzXJOGMCVjQjADHoudoIoHHrdqGAvusHLMT_KqIqjTtD/s200/Pies.bmp" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.northpole.com/Kitchen/Cookbook/cat0007.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135022905066381122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrnCyzJqhmsoI3853NQyDsavjy4x3N4mrMXWg1nn5MK7OKjEo5JnznI2USrjZHXAfK70ORoTA3f71d8jxKS2b76D6XkJqzc-bwbLsGrSYzCGdFG9xYzkw-waIOXy-SeLW40tz7DykHWuUN/s200/Other+Recipes.bmp" border="0" /></a>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-6810313155049908732007-11-19T13:34:00.000-06:002007-11-19T14:43:48.642-06:00The Fall GardenEvery time I work in the yard or the garden, I can't help but have scripture pop into my head. I realize that when Jesus spoke to his disciples in parables he used stories that related to their lives so that it would help them remember the lesson he was teaching them. So it is with me, I go to pull up weeds and <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?book_id=47&chapter=13&verse=30&version=31&context=verse">Matthew 13:30 </a>comes to mind. I gather tomatoes or squash from the garden and <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?book_id=50&chapter=15&verse=7&end_verse=9&version=31&context=context">John 15:7-9</a> echos in my head. <p>
I promise, I do not have a green thumb, but this year I have had the best garden and I have no explanation other than God saw fit to send the rain. I am terrible about watering regularly, and I haven't put in a drip system because I don't really have enough square footage for the garden to merit that kind of attention. This year we did have a lot of rain and I am still reaping the fruit of the harvest. My tomato plants are so loaded with tomatoes that the tomato cages that I set up to support the plants are groaning under the weight.
<p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLta4I__SfjbCWEh8r0BUlwRO-EJqflHj-lp1-J70g2yj9yNIpYg5jPKXAU104a9viQSgSdwtWaQ_ipSpzZjCju5J-qoDl2qr_T5mBZC1mobc6nFoxe-nACgv1fI8iEoAM73rUrd5ZTatp/s1600-h/100_2172.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134639824048348898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLta4I__SfjbCWEh8r0BUlwRO-EJqflHj-lp1-J70g2yj9yNIpYg5jPKXAU104a9viQSgSdwtWaQ_ipSpzZjCju5J-qoDl2qr_T5mBZC1mobc6nFoxe-nACgv1fI8iEoAM73rUrd5ZTatp/s320/100_2172.JPG" border="0" /></a>
<p>
This summer the hubs, the kids and I enjoyed, corn, canelope, squash, bell peppers, jalepeno peppers, tomatoes and peanuts (they're still drying). It really has been an unbelieveably good gardening year, and I can't take credit for the bounty that we have harvested. What is most surprising is that I'll probably pick three dozen tomatoes off these vines within the week, thanks to 80 degree temps for the past few days which will continue on until Wednesday. It was so warm yesterday that my oldest put on his swim suit and hopped into the pool. I admit, its a little too chilly for my liking, but the kids aren't as particular when it comes to water temperature as I tend to be.
<p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8hjMc6PMsR0Ojj9jn5Xg4iYhcGcmBL5-ADa2BbDYRqoSr3Enlq7PEOdg_nUmgtYFD_To2LgmP6t4jWhe83XX-aB9iUaBOmyRt3I4S7hujJKDYthedr3MCmpIJ8Yu2Fv8XHmZGBMtCmAb/s1600-h/100_2174.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134645678088773362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8hjMc6PMsR0Ojj9jn5Xg4iYhcGcmBL5-ADa2BbDYRqoSr3Enlq7PEOdg_nUmgtYFD_To2LgmP6t4jWhe83XX-aB9iUaBOmyRt3I4S7hujJKDYthedr3MCmpIJ8Yu2Fv8XHmZGBMtCmAb/s320/100_2174.JPG" border="0" /></a>
<p>
Even the rose bushes are still working overtime, which reminds me that I need to prune them back. I usually forget and they get all gangly and ugly looking by spring, and by then I hate to cut them back because they've already started flowering.
<p>
Thank you God for a wonderful summer garden and the extra fall fruit!
<p align="center">
<em><span style="color:#3333ff;">I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. John 15:5
</p></span></em><p>
</p>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3467845323987275565.post-35126215184382122582007-11-16T20:14:00.000-06:002007-11-16T20:24:33.774-06:00Our Week in Pictures<div><embed src="http://apps.rockyou.com/rockyou.swf?instanceid=91330366&ver=102906" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="lt" width="500" height="250" wmode="transparent" name="rockyou" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"/></embed><br><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/?type=slideshow&refid=91330366"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/logo.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/slideshow_create.php?refid=91330366&source=cyo"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/create_own.gif"></a><a style="padding-right:1px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/show_my_gallery.php?instanceid=91330366"><img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/link/view_all.gif"></a></div>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05439849900082493009noreply@blogger.com3