tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84762666283562451622024-03-13T02:26:30.668-05:00on a chicken wing and a prayerspicy parables served with a side of inspirationKatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.comBlogger188125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-40325253401075866202013-02-04T15:05:00.000-06:002013-02-04T15:05:26.235-06:00new coopIt's time, people.<br />
<br />
Flappin' my wings and flyin' to a new coop.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJfTpDdWG6i2-ZJK1Vf3kljx648_56dZWi0hvOkcjitV5RN1uT4-_lRagJKVHhplJ4eR2cGqMh2_Zb5Mq-CU17YccLhHs54O69bPK3j_pJZCwhbuhHeMPcbgslCvI-H9QNQBe_9Y3yHI/s1600/blogmove+017a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJfTpDdWG6i2-ZJK1Vf3kljx648_56dZWi0hvOkcjitV5RN1uT4-_lRagJKVHhplJ4eR2cGqMh2_Zb5Mq-CU17YccLhHs54O69bPK3j_pJZCwhbuhHeMPcbgslCvI-H9QNQBe_9Y3yHI/s640/blogmove+017a.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Gathering my belongings and moving to roomier digs.<br />
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I'm steaming the curtains and mixing cocktails right now.<br />
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I want you to join the flock at the new place.<br />
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Come on over.....we'll have fun. We'll explore lots of barnyard together.<br />
<br />
Here's the new address:<br />
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<a href="http://onachickenwingandaprayer.com/">onachickenwingandaprayer.com</a><br />
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<em>Leavin'-the-light-on-for-you</em> love to all.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-27009331281410738742013-01-22T09:49:00.000-06:002013-01-23T15:10:07.000-06:00inappropriate test<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Recently experienced the sickening moment when getting dressed for church;
pulling on leggings to go under the killer-perfect jacket. Felt the sharp deflation as I spied those horrible words inside the waistband…<i>‘Miley Cyrus’</i>. </div>
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<b><i>My God…..are these ‘jeggings'?!</i></b></div>
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Time for a serious and fearless moral
inventory.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Remember the last <a href="http://onachickenwingandaprayer.blogspot.com/2013/01/new-beginnings.html">BLOG POST</a> of my struggles with appropriate
sartorial choices? Seems I haven’t learned my lesson.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Be kind, dear reader, as I demonstrate my past sins.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQT_KDnqmTRsygHL3TdJz0inTGz1BOHf_gypnIJnremZAA4YOE3INvE7pf-Walx9Ul2uck9TuRaaNJMqQiVFIPNsy8NK2qx49CfVEdFRsqFOP5dvN5ff9PFNMPy1TYEbmmK3ixoinfXL4/s1600/005+K+%2540+Martha+Brae.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQT_KDnqmTRsygHL3TdJz0inTGz1BOHf_gypnIJnremZAA4YOE3INvE7pf-Walx9Ul2uck9TuRaaNJMqQiVFIPNsy8NK2qx49CfVEdFRsqFOP5dvN5ff9PFNMPy1TYEbmmK3ixoinfXL4/s400/005+K+%2540+Martha+Brae.jpg" width="301" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1976. Remember halter tops? This was a reversible number I purchased at TG &Y for about two bucks. When I tired of the blue side, I could reverse it to the red bandana-cloth side. Do I seem embarrassed that everyone behind me is dressed sort of normally and I stand out as a skank? naaaawwwww. This top was a fave of the Texan.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOJ5hX-Ll_0iIyG_hZpecltsBBDZaD_T_HYYUBbRTpZUQjEzN60Q4qs-EwVqEHguAod9tqa1aBhJLVtIlSsMyh5DhG-EXnbufD2BOdwKZ-rl_c_RMNyneieSmEzq9oouxBs4JiKpLlew/s1600/024+Christmas-Kathy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOJ5hX-Ll_0iIyG_hZpecltsBBDZaD_T_HYYUBbRTpZUQjEzN60Q4qs-EwVqEHguAod9tqa1aBhJLVtIlSsMyh5DhG-EXnbufD2BOdwKZ-rl_c_RMNyneieSmEzq9oouxBs4JiKpLlew/s400/024+Christmas-Kathy.jpg" width="255" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One word about articles of clothing monogrammed with your entire name.<i> Don't.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtkXeARov8bM1EH7ORZBvG8t8q58XnWV0EuriYxMCPJpilS0yMWbmenySL4T11239LwWYZaxzmrh_u1NA98L43cnUglANexIIEmURMvDP_rMcwV-YPAVIh3GwHwQnHicsr9Aww03OfAk/s1600/Rob%2527s+30th-13a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtkXeARov8bM1EH7ORZBvG8t8q58XnWV0EuriYxMCPJpilS0yMWbmenySL4T11239LwWYZaxzmrh_u1NA98L43cnUglANexIIEmURMvDP_rMcwV-YPAVIh3GwHwQnHicsr9Aww03OfAk/s400/Rob%2527s+30th-13a.jpg" width="137" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rocking the vertical stripes to hide Sprout #3. I sorta look like a referee. Wait.....that IS a referee shirt!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDh8ZPBAGPB-PwTw3TiD3FkWc5brfT3RJr43OpduUaSd2JJ8W9LwGH2hYou-SSgRZ5TIwbT9j7NP1oFM3MbSHWNiSxO-gZJ_9IXxw8KWOdwZ0wnqo8iC8x3b6P9zq5rI92c6cK6kaIOG8/s1600/R%2526K+looking+western1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDh8ZPBAGPB-PwTw3TiD3FkWc5brfT3RJr43OpduUaSd2JJ8W9LwGH2hYou-SSgRZ5TIwbT9j7NP1oFM3MbSHWNiSxO-gZJ_9IXxw8KWOdwZ0wnqo8iC8x3b6P9zq5rI92c6cK6kaIOG8/s320/R%2526K+looking+western1.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roller blades are not the best option for footwear when wearing a kelly-green dress.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHkXDOXh41yHRf30T2nEGzo6ogPjP7hdswAyosP7JAVG6cHCqxiNymJXr8CYL2J6NDe85AGj2awBJBEq34E6bfLoX54qAVUs7aU7paUQyTmcydpQZwPyeu3EfUJQVpwkgotWNafs6S7QE/s1600/Easter15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHkXDOXh41yHRf30T2nEGzo6ogPjP7hdswAyosP7JAVG6cHCqxiNymJXr8CYL2J6NDe85AGj2awBJBEq34E6bfLoX54qAVUs7aU7paUQyTmcydpQZwPyeu3EfUJQVpwkgotWNafs6S7QE/s400/Easter15.jpg" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loving the Easter photo of the fam. Even loving the purple sheath with neutral flats. Not loving the pregnant-looking tummy. Must've been in days before Spanx.<i><b> Painful.</b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFOxaBGpSrw2XA8SZ1x2Jna7uK2jX1mzoHFk2m_ndjZqXvYvZvODgTdSBKPca3vhKzx7QVkh9icXbiJ9S2UV3DyqGwX5F42Lx8dhmqKTGXmhEz6FqNMF532dbXdjjAADz5OvXZcGBbvM/s1600/Amarillo+show13-Kathy+%2526+Robert.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFOxaBGpSrw2XA8SZ1x2Jna7uK2jX1mzoHFk2m_ndjZqXvYvZvODgTdSBKPca3vhKzx7QVkh9icXbiJ9S2UV3DyqGwX5F42Lx8dhmqKTGXmhEz6FqNMF532dbXdjjAADz5OvXZcGBbvM/s400/Amarillo+show13-Kathy+%2526+Robert.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rodney and the Texan-looking sharp! Me....I think I fell off the pumpkin truck. This shirt is exactly what a migraine-aura looks like. A classic example of horizontal stripes being a fashion 'no'.</td></tr>
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<i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">****breathing again****</span></i> I warned you my inventory would be fearless.</div>
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You know Jeff Foxworthy and his bit<b> ‘You might be a redneck
IF….?’</b> I've developed a<i> clothing self-test </i>just for you. It just might save you
from the<b><i> ‘Don’t</i></b> section of <i>Glamour </i>magazine.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">You might be dressing age-inappropriately IF……..</span></b></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">1. You own a pair of thigh-high leather boots.</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">2. You apply leg-makeup to cover the varicose veins
when wearing shorts.</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">3. You don three layers of neck-to-knee spanx to
snug into your favorite dress.</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">4. You own a pair of coral-colored denim capri
pants.</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">5. You own anything Jimmy Choo.</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">6. You think the latest OPI neon-green nail polish
is ‘cool’.</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">7. You wear leggings as pants. (you know who you
are!)</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">8. You wear any type of two-piece bathing suit.</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">9. You own a pair of animal-print hose.</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">10.You have clothing with the labels Miley Cyrus,
BCBG, Bisou-Bisou, Stella McCartney or Hello, Kitty.</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">11.You see a photo of yourself from behind. Your
only thought is you wish you'd been wearing your ‘back-smoothing’ bra.</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p><br /></div>
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Only trying to save you from yourselves.<i> Don't be like me.</i> Do
you have some other tips to add to my list? Tell me, I’m listening.<o:p></o:p></div>
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White-lipstick love to all.<o:p></o:p></div>
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-86430264423510525462013-01-06T16:36:00.000-06:002013-01-06T16:36:36.685-06:00new beginningsEaten my last bowl of left-over black-eyed peas and ham. Cleaned the fridge of the scraps of pumpkin roll with cream cheese. The remnants of Christmas are tucked away in the dark recesses of the attic. The Texan has taken down the festive lights on our house.<br />
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2013 is really here, ready or not.<br />
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Went to a funeral of a dear friend in early December. The service was gorgeous and the children of the deceased spoke glowingly of their father with intimate stories of his character. The next day over lunch, as we were re-hashing the funeral details, the Sprouts threatened they would have <b>lots</b> of colorful stories to tell about me after I'm gone.<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i><br /></i></span>
<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Don't talk about me! Just keep it about Jesus, OK?</i></span> </b><br />
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The Sprouts took particular relish in telling my in-laws of my many 'phases'.<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (I like to think of it as life-long learning).</span> They related to the giggling in-laws of a phase we dubbed the<i> 'cleavage phase'</i>. Seems I permanently scarred my middle sprout (while she was dating her husband-to-be) with my sartorial choices of frequent plunging necklines. It bothered her so much, she mustered the courage to ask about it one day.<br />
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<b>Mom, what's with the low-cut necklines?</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><i>Really? Are they THAT revealing?? </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Yes, Mom! Last night my date said, 'Did you check out your Mom's shirt?'</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><i>I was taught to dress to my strengths. I'm staring at the big 5-0. I don't have many strengths left!</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>But, Mom....</b></span><br />
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I followed with an instructive recitation of<i> being comfortable in one's skin, the difficulties of aging, fashion for the mature woman,</i> and <i>learning to live with an interesting mother.</i> She's a good girl and she loved me through the embarrassing phase.<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Don't get her started by asking about the <a href="http://onachickenwingandaprayer.blogspot.com/2012_10_01_archive.html">DONUT QUEST</a> insanity, please!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcp8K8w7Oo5QmRqv2Uu5JrJ-YcgJEGlwAdIdM0mBfCAB4M-HPCvzyJZMjiyczQdZLqilT_5QpVDqUMGZ9jgrs3NUqkYensoI-axngY3MQQu3dFczqF5h4zsCNP-Xdw_C0GCyFsI5v4-0s/s1600/Christmas+'05-03a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcp8K8w7Oo5QmRqv2Uu5JrJ-YcgJEGlwAdIdM0mBfCAB4M-HPCvzyJZMjiyczQdZLqilT_5QpVDqUMGZ9jgrs3NUqkYensoI-axngY3MQQu3dFczqF5h4zsCNP-Xdw_C0GCyFsI5v4-0s/s400/Christmas+'05-03a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An out-take of our xmas card pic 2005. You be the judge.</td></tr>
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You, fellow chicken-winger, will be pleased to know I've outgrown my 'cleavage-phase'. Pants, long-sleeved shirts, high necklines, closed-toe shoes, and derriere-covering jackets are my wardrobe choices these days. <span style="font-size: xx-small;">****sigh****</span> Can the moo-moo and velour jogging suit phase be far behind?<br />
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I guess the only strength I have left these days is.......... my hair? It gets more and more asymmetrical (tell everyone my hairdresser was drunk when he cut it) and brighter and brighter red as I age. I'm positive I'm too old for this hair-do. I've informed the Sprouts and the Texan the red hair is NEVER going. They better learn to live with it. Can't see myself with a long gray braid down my back.<br />
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Have you made any resolutions for 2013?<br />
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Been thinking about some things I'd like to accomplish this year. I'm not brave enough to voice<b> all </b>of my resolutions, but I<b> will </b>tell you I'm gonna try and spiff up the blog a bit. I enjoy being here and it needs to reflect more of what we are about. I have some fun ideas coming up for the new year. Stay tuned.<br />
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The message at church moved me this morning. Such a wonderful sermon for a new year. This was the Scripture:<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"I'm not saying I've got it all together; that I have it made. But, I'm well on my way, reaching out for Christ,<b> who has so wondrously reached out for me.</b> Friends, don't get me wrong: by no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back. So let's keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us. If any of you have something else in mind, something less than total commitment, God will clear your blurred vision-you'll see it yet! Now that we're on the right track, let's stay on it."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Philippians 3:12-16</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'd like to grow spiritually. Make 2013 a year I become a little more like Him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope you reach your goals this year....and you have someone to love you through your poor, inappropriate clothing choices.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Plunging love to all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">P.S.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Texan just reminded me of someone's birthday today. #7!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I didn't think she realized it was her birthday, but I should've know better.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLTtkoQi3NMNOiIpItgXw7FxtVnEoV7VzxVF9YrS-ycBM0jQBIbt4xB49pNpm8exIJSwix_n_8R6DhHNCtpN8veZap7H_M86jUDTccepNgm1JbYtiSx53cUo66TWse8kk9T4lCTqFGG4/s1600/doxy7bday+014a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLTtkoQi3NMNOiIpItgXw7FxtVnEoV7VzxVF9YrS-ycBM0jQBIbt4xB49pNpm8exIJSwix_n_8R6DhHNCtpN8veZap7H_M86jUDTccepNgm1JbYtiSx53cUo66TWse8kk9T4lCTqFGG4/s400/doxy7bday+014a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The wiener asked if we would take her to <a href="http://www.bigtexan.com/free72.html">THE BIG TEXAN</a> for her birthday. She wants to wrap her canine teeth around the free 72 ounce steak. Help.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-62700544824902104612012-12-23T20:21:00.000-06:002012-12-23T20:29:42.334-06:00hold close<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's Christmas eve eve. Wanted to wish all the <i>Chicken Wingers</i> the <b><i>merriest of Christmases!</i></b><br />
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The terribly sad events in Connecticut gave me new vision. My vision improved to 20/20 as the holy holiday drew nearer.<br />
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Enjoyed singing for old folks. My retirement singing group must have visited <b><span style="font-size: large;">every </span></b>retirement/nursing/alzheimer's home in this town. I savored holding every arthritic hand.<br />
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Led the Christmas merriment at the facility where my mother lived. So many ties and lovely memories there. They are kind to ask me back every year.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWuVjLreJGMhiMfmHGxhA8xNf7kuL34ngWBJHr-dToSi0AJvrGSifNSiOd1FiSRA895Qzve7WErkCnZjFK3SwKw-gsVzm4qEAib7yLVSG9IZOF68SkIUqi_SkrAlqH8BS0wane_UihyphenhyphenY/s1600/craigxmas2012+024a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWuVjLreJGMhiMfmHGxhA8xNf7kuL34ngWBJHr-dToSi0AJvrGSifNSiOd1FiSRA895Qzve7WErkCnZjFK3SwKw-gsVzm4qEAib7yLVSG9IZOF68SkIUqi_SkrAlqH8BS0wane_UihyphenhyphenY/s400/craigxmas2012+024a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Had some help with Nancy, Rich and the Christmas Bichon, Sophie.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQOgihWavg8vw9jItLyPN_pVzsOFdRc_V8Tb87zZGsSCi0oHtp_nUiJzpILVALxZTDmzETlXfy7S1ExK5JkPYSPqqBl_Ms9iRJieje-SiozoWzXKYOhtlTCMYS4FWo65SA1QB1cOUCjg8/s1600/craigxmas2012+022a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQOgihWavg8vw9jItLyPN_pVzsOFdRc_V8Tb87zZGsSCi0oHtp_nUiJzpILVALxZTDmzETlXfy7S1ExK5JkPYSPqqBl_Ms9iRJieje-SiozoWzXKYOhtlTCMYS4FWo65SA1QB1cOUCjg8/s400/craigxmas2012+022a.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sophie enjoying Nancy's rendition of 'O, Holy Night'.</td></tr>
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As I was standing at the podium about to lead 'Silver Bells', a male resident walked behind me....patted me on the a## and said I was lots<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b> wider </b></span>back there than I was last year.<i> Really.</i> Made me laugh so hard, I teased him mercilessly about being 'naughty'.<br />
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Santa agreed. The guy<b> was</b> naughty.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMigvRtstB6Gogp1YkYWyD5HSs6YG0tBFDLCQzTcvRKIX9OJJoBozr8XKMxiA3LqJ2RlemDwiDtzXDoSOoukiXYtc4J8zUKwMOZ-omgcbSJT1yZ3M_rTsLZ1MpPQsw-7jAtGsSU4c1vLk/s1600/craigxmas2012+023a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMigvRtstB6Gogp1YkYWyD5HSs6YG0tBFDLCQzTcvRKIX9OJJoBozr8XKMxiA3LqJ2RlemDwiDtzXDoSOoukiXYtc4J8zUKwMOZ-omgcbSJT1yZ3M_rTsLZ1MpPQsw-7jAtGsSU4c1vLk/s400/craigxmas2012+023a.jpg" width="336" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Santa 'n me!</td></tr>
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Our church choir had a special Christmas musical with local musicians.<br />
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Was privileged to be a part of this glorious day of celebrating Christ's birth. We talked about the deaths of the innocents in Connecticut that Sunday morning. Talked about how the light is coming into the darkness. Aren't we longing for the light this year? This world feels less and less like<i> home </i>to me.<br />
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While I'm here, I'll savor moments like these.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYaB-Fn_WrTfAtqQ-NMoYtoR7lpEvyb1sM2R6XjQ8rNLz75KejPjfeMji95y2fCGzQa01iPZrccAAbWSeWXd5iL5qYFZP9bByvms5cQ8oxmLAWOlR8_m84_yx73eFKykBNBcI3-sjaJ4/s1600/kathy%2526graham.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYaB-Fn_WrTfAtqQ-NMoYtoR7lpEvyb1sM2R6XjQ8rNLz75KejPjfeMji95y2fCGzQa01iPZrccAAbWSeWXd5iL5qYFZP9bByvms5cQ8oxmLAWOlR8_m84_yx73eFKykBNBcI3-sjaJ4/s400/kathy%2526graham.jpg" width="315" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby G and me Christmas Eve 2011. Holding close my precious grandson.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMU7d0FWPrUzRkz8eVzaupqFXZSzWM4PCTaP3XA0eca3NpcMeJqFTK4yYNnDPaFweZIxG4RGlrZMxrRbUQTmN4GD2Hssu4YouUAW952ThP7pjSCSL7HiIw0rp5GIN608rMdlkh51_UjYA/s1600/grahambday%2526pnut+098a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="395" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMU7d0FWPrUzRkz8eVzaupqFXZSzWM4PCTaP3XA0eca3NpcMeJqFTK4yYNnDPaFweZIxG4RGlrZMxrRbUQTmN4GD2Hssu4YouUAW952ThP7pjSCSL7HiIw0rp5GIN608rMdlkh51_UjYA/s400/grahambday%2526pnut+098a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peanut and G.<br />
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The grandson is 15 months old now. He has his own pony. He's learned to walk and he can sing 'EEE-EYE-EEE-EYE-OOOOOO! Amazing! The year has flown by.<br />
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I'm grateful for my Sprouts and for the long-suffering Texan. I need to tell them 'I love you' more often.<br />
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I enjoy this ridiculous wiener dog.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAWX8fYSraunnjeJrluQf-uo9ttZa2Zx-cCmZR6uzDyrc_pTz6NEr5rjc0P3790Fwy_0pR0UFLZI0_RPuVGkfODBA9wnnV20XJQeJxVDGSqX-J5nGIiP0QrjNtqyhjb9c4QwFFCr-Vk4/s1600/doxyxmas2012+019a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAWX8fYSraunnjeJrluQf-uo9ttZa2Zx-cCmZR6uzDyrc_pTz6NEr5rjc0P3790Fwy_0pR0UFLZI0_RPuVGkfODBA9wnnV20XJQeJxVDGSqX-J5nGIiP0QrjNtqyhjb9c4QwFFCr-Vk4/s400/doxyxmas2012+019a.jpg" width="291" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roxy Doxy is worried about the meaning of 'naughty'.</td></tr>
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She shows me something of God's love. I like to think<b> He</b> wags his tail thinking about seeing me and <b>He</b> would give me a big, slobbery lick if <b>He </b>were here.<br />
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I think<b> He</b> would hold me (and you!) close, too.<br />
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May your Christmas be brimming with fun times with your loved ones and lots of happiness.<br />
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The light is coming.<br />
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Be blessed.<br />
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Christmas-y love to all.<br />
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<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-50547589234622412322012-12-12T15:03:00.000-06:002012-12-12T15:03:09.351-06:00divine intervention<b>Divine intervention</b>.<i> Lord knows, I need it.</i><br />
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I've been busy with my annual divinity-making project. Keep dreaming of heavenly creaminess and the crunch of fresh pecans. Even though I always aspire my candy to be celestial perfection, too often the results are simply earthly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsspuaNQRvcj7QxqeNfIxvJtiAtv7LVnCxD5AYlTe49qAwWU-zP4fFpZQuNayXh7bvUeXnBIuOfYYZrQm9fu0UsKyHyv9VWNSNG9U8xU-Wof7ay9mL2KpYj4MCcme_o4oZrV8DK9ZU_qw/s1600/divinity+001a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsspuaNQRvcj7QxqeNfIxvJtiAtv7LVnCxD5AYlTe49qAwWU-zP4fFpZQuNayXh7bvUeXnBIuOfYYZrQm9fu0UsKyHyv9VWNSNG9U8xU-Wof7ay9mL2KpYj4MCcme_o4oZrV8DK9ZU_qw/s400/divinity+001a.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the cast of characters.</td></tr>
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If you ever watched your mother or grandmother make this candy, you probably learned some fun, new curse words. Divinity is<span style="font-size: large;"> persnickety.</span> One of my batches today was a total loss. Had to pry it with hammer and chisel out of the mixing pan. Over the years, I've developed my own rules for making this Christmas candy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJsrMBL9-vTQUvxN9zxQUjFT3SaZngSzbQIi9V-bEDIF5fKy1_RzdtOweU_Ad0JhevKr1E1JlGvfFxId8yj_mawnzRCc8b60S8P_KbCkqmXACfoEmjBqO8x2jna4AqrwIqISpVdwpmFc/s1600/divinity+003a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJsrMBL9-vTQUvxN9zxQUjFT3SaZngSzbQIi9V-bEDIF5fKy1_RzdtOweU_Ad0JhevKr1E1JlGvfFxId8yj_mawnzRCc8b60S8P_KbCkqmXACfoEmjBqO8x2jna4AqrwIqISpVdwpmFc/s400/divinity+003a.jpg" width="267" /></a></div>
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<b>Rules for making Divinity</b><br />
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1. Measure all ingredients carefully. Sugar must be measured to the last <i>granule.</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWiac_WJSindpIBdYuQO6xI12nAhzvKMwUTrKFr7BlIc5xba-I4hfxcOsVTxEJPjc4FIARR4DNysnWqMGVkakSWKxGZeLOyHSgirkgCqlmlK41SgVIHhg77Zg9UMYxYYquiW7Ytrts9MQ/s1600/divinity+004a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWiac_WJSindpIBdYuQO6xI12nAhzvKMwUTrKFr7BlIc5xba-I4hfxcOsVTxEJPjc4FIARR4DNysnWqMGVkakSWKxGZeLOyHSgirkgCqlmlK41SgVIHhg77Zg9UMYxYYquiW7Ytrts9MQ/s400/divinity+004a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pouring the hot syrup into the beaten egg whites.</td></tr>
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2. Don't attempt to make divinity on a day with a humidity level over <b>40%</b>. Candy won't set up.<br />
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3. Do not attempt to make divinity on a day with a humidity level under <b>30%</b>. Candy will be as hard as an anvil.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUI08TKSTn41Wnxx61Nf2FcqLli8jQKx3LmfGJA4KCgZ9iuGMTRKCdAN5urQRJdu5h5Ad8bH9SROm11pH8swttKvBCO3Jqd9-Gx6P4SpAWfajuQohSIEWRLgIorc4wNLMWL-Wg7aiWJo/s1600/divinity+007a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUI08TKSTn41Wnxx61Nf2FcqLli8jQKx3LmfGJA4KCgZ9iuGMTRKCdAN5urQRJdu5h5Ad8bH9SROm11pH8swttKvBCO3Jqd9-Gx6P4SpAWfajuQohSIEWRLgIorc4wNLMWL-Wg7aiWJo/s320/divinity+007a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely pecans.</td></tr>
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4. Have a<b> USDA-NASA</b> certified <b>candy thermometer</b>. Must be accurate within a millionth of a degree Fahrenheit.<br />
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5. Beware making divinity in a leap year.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMJNdw2oQ3mJvjzN4VqspFeF7Yqihi2H4dAA0TXt3NDgdUhNDF_pKkiEXaJDug1AxpBjso5aIVuR0CcVkoG_Kmtpc5HrZvpzQWOFiJ5v-YXUWhu46ffwZlI9qcZ6BXNpHai8XxboFQHA/s1600/divinity+009a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMJNdw2oQ3mJvjzN4VqspFeF7Yqihi2H4dAA0TXt3NDgdUhNDF_pKkiEXaJDug1AxpBjso5aIVuR0CcVkoG_Kmtpc5HrZvpzQWOFiJ5v-YXUWhu46ffwZlI9qcZ6BXNpHai8XxboFQHA/s320/divinity+009a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to spoon out.</td></tr>
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6. Don't attempt this candy on any day or year containing the dreaded number '1'.<br />
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7. Never plan on giving divinity as a Christmas gift. Your pores will excrete nervous gasses. Those gasses react with the candy to turn it a snot green color.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCOo3HJSAYP446Xt2MOcbNC_1mgrKOnm3e4oiFQ8YD1SBlnxj2hW7bieILjNhaeAXRIMR18SZOxba0ngfliJeGbeEQ1PzQUGXGCdpx_-ZC1RXEufi21MvEW04DD6Cm1VgwzG6Kd4tRFKI/s1600/divinity+011a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCOo3HJSAYP446Xt2MOcbNC_1mgrKOnm3e4oiFQ8YD1SBlnxj2hW7bieILjNhaeAXRIMR18SZOxba0ngfliJeGbeEQ1PzQUGXGCdpx_-ZC1RXEufi21MvEW04DD6Cm1VgwzG6Kd4tRFKI/s400/divinity+011a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This piece looks surprisingly good.</td></tr>
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8. Never...ever...let a wiener dog observe your divinity-making. It is the<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b> candy kiss-of-death.</b></span><br />
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I really wanted my candy to be perfect, but it wasn't. I was tempted not to give it. Didn't want my friends to suffer through crunchy divinity.<br />
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I put the candy in my pretty Target gift boxes and gave it away anyway. Maybe they will taste the love. Strikes me as a parallel to so many things in my life right now. I could use a little divine intervention to straighten things out and spruce things up a little bit. Even if I don't <i>see </i>divine intervention or I don't <i>feel </i>it, it still seems important to keep striving....to keep giving. I'll live fully in this current messiness and imperfection and you can meet me there. We'll have a party!<br />
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Maybe that realization is my divine intervention for today.<br />
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Carry on. Christmas is coming.<br />
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Karo-y love to all.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-3915709262332747152012-12-05T13:02:00.000-06:002012-12-05T13:07:50.067-06:00visor studyPresented for your viewing pleasure.<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Etude du visors avec chiennes. </i>Or, the importance of being earnest.<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Chienne un. Doodle in red visor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Chienne deux. Bichon in red visor</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Chienne trois. Wiener in red visor.<i> La sausage en chapeau rouge.</i></span><br />
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<i>Faves?</i><br />
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<i>I hear it's almost Christmas. Time to get busy. Thanks for stopping by.</i><br />
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Sincere love to all.<br />
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<i><br /></i>Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-81517902673519415862012-11-18T16:58:00.000-06:002012-11-18T16:58:08.119-06:00donut tower updateYou can quit holding your breath now! As promised, I am now posting a professional picture of the donut tower I blogged about in <a href="http://onachickenwingandaprayer.blogspot.com/2012_10_01_archive.html">DONUT QUEST</a>.<br />
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<i>First, to set the stage.</i> Little V and I moved said donut tower from the car to the reception in this.<br />
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A deluge. Gully-washer. A drenching downpour or quite the cloudburst. We are not experienced with this kind of rain in West Texas. We were woefully unprepared.<br />
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This is how little V and I looked after hauling in the tower.<br />
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<i>Why do I look like a drowned NYC sewer rat and Miss V looks all fluffy and cute??! </i>She even has her chic handbag over her shoulder. <i>Lot of good it did her.</i> It wasn't big enough for an umbrella, apparently.<br />
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The finished tower.<br />
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Or as I refer to it, the<b> monument to my insanity.</b><br />
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Every rainstorm can have a rainbow. Here's our rainbow.<br />
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Giving thanks today.<br />
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Monumental love to all.<br />
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<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-34616369563025996592012-11-12T13:21:00.000-06:002012-11-18T16:33:52.578-06:00veteran's day <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I don't like Veteran's Day. It reminds me of something I never did.<br />
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My father, Bill was a veteran of the Army Airborne. He returned from World War II and married his bride, Joy, in the early 50's. People said we looked like twins...red-headed, stubborn, freckled and prominent noses. Look at the photo and you be the judge. I adored my daddy.<br />
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He was like many of his generation. He didn't want to make a big deal of his service to our country, he just desired to neatly file the past in the file cabinet and carry on.<br />
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However, Bill couldn't put the past away because it stuck to him like gum on a summer sidewalk. We'd never heard of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. <br />
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Have you read the novel <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Unbroken-World-Survival-Resilience-Redemption/dp/1400064163">UNBROKEN</a>? If you haven't, you must. I read the novel this summer and the author's time spent fighting in the islands of the Pacific during WWII bone-resonated with me. His experience surely mimicked some of my dad's experiences. Reading this book was a light-bulb moment for me.<br />
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My dad was a great man....jolly, smart, fun, music-lover and general joke-ster. But the aftermath of war was too much for him and he became an alcoholic. <i>Who knows if that is the reason</i> (not trying to make excuses for him), but surely it was a big contributing factor. The man was always jumping out of his skin at loud noises, throwing hissy fits if he was EVER served rice and detesting when we put too many teaspoons of sugar in our iced tea. Don't kids understand the value of sugar? I can still hear the shouts and cries he made while he slept.<br />
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He died of cirrhosis of the liver when he was 55 and I was 21-pregnant with my first Sprout.<br />
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I could've held things against him for his wrong choices, but I've let go of those. I learned my dad loved me and did the best he could.<br />
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On days like Veteran's Day I just wish...<b>.just ONE TIME</b>...I would have hugged my Dad and thanked him for his service to our country. For this teen growing up in the anti-war Vietnam era..<b>.doing that never pierced my consciousness.</b><i> Brilliant me,</i> I had to be in my 50's to realize I should have expressed my appreciation. Would it have killed me to think of someone else??<br />
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So today, I will express my gratitude to Bill. Feel free to join me if you want to.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>Dad...thank you for giving up four years of your life to support our great country. Thanks for serving in the jungles of the Pacific Islands to fight the Japanese in WWII. Thank you for helping to defeat the evil dictators who were trying to quash freedom. Thank you for trying the best you could to provide for our family. If you were here today, we could sing a rousing chorus of 'Does your chewing gum lose it's flavor on the bedpost overnight?' and bust out laughing. Sorry for being a self-possessed, know-it-all teen....aww....I know you've already forgiven me. Better late than never, right? See you soon. Love, Sis.</b></i></span><br />
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No-more-regret-love to all.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-49348190113198897742012-11-08T13:08:00.000-06:002012-11-08T15:08:12.246-06:00maui gallery: 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I drank Mai Tai's 'til volcano Haleakala looked<b> flat.</b> Can you blame me? It is their state drink,<i> after all.</i><br />
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It was our bucket-list trip. Figured we'd endure the <i>loooong </i>flight time to explore this lovely island.<br />
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I could gush on and on, but I think I'll let the photos tell my story. Pour yourself some pineapple juice and dark rum. I'm placing a fragrant lei around your neck in warm welcome. You with me?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjvuZZsJ5c5Q6U_6NkmaVLdYuT_pigsh6jOC1wKeVu7pNg1OHZ9SbLukhMfFDQ3Ue45EstLybQPuEvXTrTeX78pl076s-aIRke-caK2-uwojPmVVAmyb3u0xHKtnq4N0YvHDX-4O7QzE/s1600/hawaii2012+004a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjvuZZsJ5c5Q6U_6NkmaVLdYuT_pigsh6jOC1wKeVu7pNg1OHZ9SbLukhMfFDQ3Ue45EstLybQPuEvXTrTeX78pl076s-aIRke-caK2-uwojPmVVAmyb3u0xHKtnq4N0YvHDX-4O7QzE/s400/hawaii2012+004a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We went to Maui to support the Son-in-Law as he competed in this race. It's called xterra, cuz you have to be<b> xxxtra </b>strong to even<b><i> think</i></b> about entering one of these events.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our intrepid athlete as he prepares to face the angry ocean. We suffered through a tsunami warning the night before. You heard me right.....TSUNAMI. A long night of evacuations!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH72EhgxvfCAzcnR_3FfXBYX5FDQGpW3qxIBl_V8TZxfN9STy3kbfBC5HjEnSq4SLEzBSK_P9a1H19TY62wARNFNtl85nNJnZ33SbKCWnKKRf42e3NPP-dGytY7UkizDFuXyp79Kmsl6w/s1600/hawaii2012+046a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH72EhgxvfCAzcnR_3FfXBYX5FDQGpW3qxIBl_V8TZxfN9STy3kbfBC5HjEnSq4SLEzBSK_P9a1H19TY62wARNFNtl85nNJnZ33SbKCWnKKRf42e3NPP-dGytY7UkizDFuXyp79Kmsl6w/s400/hawaii2012+046a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The SIL made it through the swim. Now, he only has to bike<b> 5000 miles</b> in the forest and run<b> 100 miles</b> up and down the volcano. Then, he has to open a coconut<b> with his bare hands</b> to complete his test! He's xxxxxtra strong, alright!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbJDDEqV3tKB1rc8kf0yrd1u4lYeiLmVEwKDXPOGnYXOGyGkIrlhU9L63F2F91m7vND6zXlHA_IG6fOXjNu63VqBLIbbuUZouxBURlpL-7qp_XU_NwLZpFkbx0nMVMJbZ16b_gCjXoJI8/s1600/hawaii2012+061a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbJDDEqV3tKB1rc8kf0yrd1u4lYeiLmVEwKDXPOGnYXOGyGkIrlhU9L63F2F91m7vND6zXlHA_IG6fOXjNu63VqBLIbbuUZouxBURlpL-7qp_XU_NwLZpFkbx0nMVMJbZ16b_gCjXoJI8/s400/hawaii2012+061a.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This challenged athlete was an inspiration to watch. You go, girl!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHsi64TxPTgc8SPa2DHWdOkeP5WVo3WCRKzYKW_qdk1pftzl3GV8LUCBfKM0-EfSoJTW1XDqwjWm_etSDtM5rr_7xW1Q6QAOvdZx0TNcWWFKmtZtr7nX-gE8FjZunFKR-g-f9wkvXSmCs/s1600/hawaii2012+094a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHsi64TxPTgc8SPa2DHWdOkeP5WVo3WCRKzYKW_qdk1pftzl3GV8LUCBfKM0-EfSoJTW1XDqwjWm_etSDtM5rr_7xW1Q6QAOvdZx0TNcWWFKmtZtr7nX-gE8FjZunFKR-g-f9wkvXSmCs/s400/hawaii2012+094a.jpg" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was plenty of time for a relaxing swim in the pool while Daddy was competing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlC8MJ9UZH6Ck47RiqqrO1aDK18NsbHzV9a5-xPDFx9S116qj1PbBzLHeRrzta66ZJvzGzPKmGqJhTR1LLfnt4vupeqGMNvZWCBlW-Sos8bS5q0wlTdRGqR8guxlTyYhGlg82m3MRdidE/s1600/hawaii2012+167a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlC8MJ9UZH6Ck47RiqqrO1aDK18NsbHzV9a5-xPDFx9S116qj1PbBzLHeRrzta66ZJvzGzPKmGqJhTR1LLfnt4vupeqGMNvZWCBlW-Sos8bS5q0wlTdRGqR8guxlTyYhGlg82m3MRdidE/s400/hawaii2012+167a.jpg" width="206" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blessedly arriving at the finish line with medal and lei around neck.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSgVO7WCdpGBDl-z1U14QdFsLJbDpon_D5XMQHicW7QRyPyJFkwkYY3KWjfMfFrFWBkGSD0YTdlFWPON2M7kYuioWLO1xN-0aGOi6X6qeEjc-YyPgaH6lLzejsDWtwWZ8yf_5CusEID44/s1600/hawaii2012+243a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSgVO7WCdpGBDl-z1U14QdFsLJbDpon_D5XMQHicW7QRyPyJFkwkYY3KWjfMfFrFWBkGSD0YTdlFWPON2M7kYuioWLO1xN-0aGOi6X6qeEjc-YyPgaH6lLzejsDWtwWZ8yf_5CusEID44/s640/hawaii2012+243a.jpg" width="496" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spike, the African crane who lived at our hotel.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDc3mG5cgz_nYDkUMAPhnFaWPmnGLvjuQYgtqo2pxk_XXmzK-FNH5NnS1ZQttlD9r29WEvmgG7D4eRXJj0ZFmtH6rU5dV4eVuzcIYeV0P1vW8SgAfu4eQAdmfnFDNZXFiBfVOjWArX_-c/s1600/hawaii2012+170a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDc3mG5cgz_nYDkUMAPhnFaWPmnGLvjuQYgtqo2pxk_XXmzK-FNH5NnS1ZQttlD9r29WEvmgG7D4eRXJj0ZFmtH6rU5dV4eVuzcIYeV0P1vW8SgAfu4eQAdmfnFDNZXFiBfVOjWArX_-c/s400/hawaii2012+170a.jpg" width="375" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey, watch it Spike! Baby G is not crane food.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxr5NPkNq31wlNUjE82qm7F4UEDHJRQNgzWl29e22HeSppPEv8heOPmvVpXgfVKhbXJLYWI__Mb2QA9nFIYQ2SJqTQHMYS6SYj3mxHKzsVp7X5XfwBaHbnD33-SqhIanxNYh0MZCAOj-o/s1600/hawaii2012+179a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxr5NPkNq31wlNUjE82qm7F4UEDHJRQNgzWl29e22HeSppPEv8heOPmvVpXgfVKhbXJLYWI__Mb2QA9nFIYQ2SJqTQHMYS6SYj3mxHKzsVp7X5XfwBaHbnD33-SqhIanxNYh0MZCAOj-o/s640/hawaii2012+179a.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How many folks return from Hawaii with a hair tattoo? Can you spot the typical Hawaiian greeting in Sprout #1's hair? This haircut caused quite the commotion everywhere he went. Wonder how this went over with the cowboys when he returned to West Texas? Love this Sprout to death!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifpjnlEsbivDOuSJ_CM5Gt1aHFeFguNXsbSXqV5J4LMX7GavQWaSnCMFzzn4k0XHd9-AH6o6uGZMfQJJPUWKVJvsz8jlRrJRgvmX4zzapdfooFM_w1jWAprAMSYNDZnWAEo8bkZhnJHnY/s1600/hawaii2012+258a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifpjnlEsbivDOuSJ_CM5Gt1aHFeFguNXsbSXqV5J4LMX7GavQWaSnCMFzzn4k0XHd9-AH6o6uGZMfQJJPUWKVJvsz8jlRrJRgvmX4zzapdfooFM_w1jWAprAMSYNDZnWAEo8bkZhnJHnY/s400/hawaii2012+258a.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My healing left wrist even played golf with the Texan. Wonderful!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCl455zkmwguIaotlfxznljYerqgOmTUy4WaF6pLNfk26xIaOVzx21EBRfD27AbS41y2pXAg2XrXH0UMjbXyh9I5CKaHKcCrfyKqkKX_VIdzg51PbvMBEtCXMQM5-3SApNEqCmf7r43nE/s1600/hawaii2012+237a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCl455zkmwguIaotlfxznljYerqgOmTUy4WaF6pLNfk26xIaOVzx21EBRfD27AbS41y2pXAg2XrXH0UMjbXyh9I5CKaHKcCrfyKqkKX_VIdzg51PbvMBEtCXMQM5-3SApNEqCmf7r43nE/s640/hawaii2012+237a.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The Middle Sprout and I arose at 3 a.m. to drive up the winding, nausea-inducing road to historic Haleakala volcano to see the sunrise. The name means 'House of the Sun'. The area below the clouds is a massive crater....it's bigger than the island of Manhattan.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xa5jFyLXxTbMozUufEPglH-XUN9QI-SFmJbDFIOML6vkUHOLcaZ2n5vB9D3GKTYB4JeVuXZUzqo6BywjLqot4ASZqUezk8cDdDyl74r5zNzqzZZsYkp0b6t-IglzgtoDnc9p6ozRgNs/s1600/hawaii2012+231a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xa5jFyLXxTbMozUufEPglH-XUN9QI-SFmJbDFIOML6vkUHOLcaZ2n5vB9D3GKTYB4JeVuXZUzqo6BywjLqot4ASZqUezk8cDdDyl74r5zNzqzZZsYkp0b6t-IglzgtoDnc9p6ozRgNs/s640/hawaii2012+231a.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sunrise. Praise be to God! Now I know why the ancients thought of this as a sacred place.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj24pfIdlOQmG6xEYnfEp6qgFjTQbbsjOL-7Opbma-K-LEmdYmimFm_ESvOdNNDF7IgUr3gGZL5lVA2hScBH3nJa2HkHRXjG2t5QZWJX344hoznn6ws4oV85VwZ00ObvIXfMZG2CfRbPqs/s1600/hawaii2012+235a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj24pfIdlOQmG6xEYnfEp6qgFjTQbbsjOL-7Opbma-K-LEmdYmimFm_ESvOdNNDF7IgUr3gGZL5lVA2hScBH3nJa2HkHRXjG2t5QZWJX344hoznn6ws4oV85VwZ00ObvIXfMZG2CfRbPqs/s640/hawaii2012+235a.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turn around 180 degrees and I experience the moon setting over the bay. Sublime, isn't it?</td></tr>
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I have some other special things I want to share with you. That's why I'm planning a Maui gallery: 2. <i>Keep the Mai Tai ingredients handy, OK?</i><br />
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You don't want to miss out on mysteries like this:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDondeYmmt_uucpfI_XMcyS6HSQWKQbMBMhJAfvt-Z9WtoxoL6sU3DPFWcdRu24IoiDLPpiwnCs3PZ-NyUFbz8FVgdvIQFz1bKda2_WKqvdQ7f5Amvuy-es93NsfxEwUP_ar5CvFrXHtg/s1600/hawaii2012+302a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDondeYmmt_uucpfI_XMcyS6HSQWKQbMBMhJAfvt-Z9WtoxoL6sU3DPFWcdRu24IoiDLPpiwnCs3PZ-NyUFbz8FVgdvIQFz1bKda2_WKqvdQ7f5Amvuy-es93NsfxEwUP_ar5CvFrXHtg/s400/hawaii2012+302a.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did I chain myself to the tree so I'd never have to leave the Maui rainforest? Did I want to extract some orange pigment from this cool tree to make the perfect red-hair dye for myself? Was I describing the circumference of my mid-section after downing at least 2 Mai-Tais every day?</td></tr>
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Thanks for sharing and letting me re-live my Maui experience with you. I will post part deux real soon.<br />
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Mahalo.<br />
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Top-'o-the-volcano love to all.<br />
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<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-9964168910378145942012-10-15T07:56:00.000-05:002012-10-15T07:56:44.065-05:00donut quest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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His idea was brilliantly simple: then, I got involved.<br />
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The event unfolded innocently enough. Sprout #3 wanted a donut-hole tower instead of a traditional groom's cake at the wedding reception. Cool concept and making it happen appeared to be fairly easy and straightforward. We would use the donut tower as a 'display only' piece and we would put fresh donut holes in cute cupcake papers around the bottom of the tower. Wedding guests could easily pick them up and enjoy. Easy-peasy!<br />
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The Middle Sprout made a donut-hole tower 'mock-up' before the wedding. We needed to be certain we could recreate it for the reception.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8R4HVHjpNOOlW4VpZlREWHXbCgO2KvBcHdutIZlgYXJCiui7CIC5ekbrsxRATvDjeG7g0Q4D92CP8bL3FHktwJXLhz-zNzvmBURPI-NHo9wNJEuMX-Dv1MQI5P_6oreVYJG-RJ8Wsh5k/s1600/donuttower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8R4HVHjpNOOlW4VpZlREWHXbCgO2KvBcHdutIZlgYXJCiui7CIC5ekbrsxRATvDjeG7g0Q4D92CP8bL3FHktwJXLhz-zNzvmBURPI-NHo9wNJEuMX-Dv1MQI5P_6oreVYJG-RJ8Wsh5k/s400/donuttower.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Appears to be a perfectly acceptable donut tower, right?</td></tr>
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We both liked the 'mock-up', but we thought it should be a little larger...or wider or<i> something. </i>After showing this photo to some of her friends, comments were made<i> about our tower appearing to be ...well....somewhat</i><b style="font-style: italic;"> phallic.</b> Is that necessarily a bad thing?<br />
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Anyhoo, while shopping for the perfect styrofoam shape for our tower, I became inspired. In the floral section of the local craft store, there were styrofoam balls of various sizes. We would construct a donut topiary. No one in the history of weddings has ever had a donut topiary! The Sprout thought a 2 ball topiary would be adequate...<b>.but, nooooo...</b>.I<b> insisted</b> we needed a giant 3-ball donut topiary. We bought a big pot, some large wooden dowels, and 3 balls of graduated sizes.<br />
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In hindsight I realize,<i style="font-weight: bold;"> sometimes <u>good</u> is good enough.</i><i> It's fine</i>. <b><i>Really.</i></b><i> No</i> <i>one knows the difference</i>. However, in my quest for absolute donut-tower <span style="font-size: large;">awesomeness</span>, things began to get complicated. The Middle Sprout was racked with doubt. The Texan was trying to devise a plan to safely construct my grand vision of an outstanding donut topiary.<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> No problem,</b></span> I said. Took it to my handy-dandy florist who constructed the topiary with a steel rod through the center. He sunk the contraption in plaster and we were good to go.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>'Mom....it sure is BIG. You think it will be OK?' </b></span>The Sprout confessed to losing sleep at night over our ever-enlarging tower. It was morphing into the Washington Monument. I have to give her credit....she<b> TRIED</b> to rein me in. Sometimes, my quest for awesomeness can be overwhelming.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>'Have faith Sprout. We are constructing a donut tower for the ages! The bride and groom are gonna love it!'</b></span><br />
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Armed with the tower and 30 dozen donut holes, we headed for the Texas hill country.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix1QG2S5zlQkw2OryLEP3sBaQKk3drsytydoLMpog7UytNlxAQ3d85WH7LS8HfsYQh1OUnGgpBhW4TlpehgGLuohMpMTJ6R4hjbPkIOAHvmhetr0YNh84NKpI5u4Zr1Y_Xapa4ArXmyIA/s1600/lotsodonutholes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix1QG2S5zlQkw2OryLEP3sBaQKk3drsytydoLMpog7UytNlxAQ3d85WH7LS8HfsYQh1OUnGgpBhW4TlpehgGLuohMpMTJ6R4hjbPkIOAHvmhetr0YNh84NKpI5u4Zr1Y_Xapa4ArXmyIA/s400/lotsodonutholes.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">30 dozen donut holes=heaven</td></tr>
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The first night in our hotel room, I eagerly began construction. The first grand styrofoam ball ALONE took all 30 dozen donuts and 2 hours of my time. I had a blood blister on my index finger from inserting toothpicks into styrofoam. Ouch.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rmMbcTDfhVEzETC4igOrWy_OdyLDrnz_O_9Nf_R4r5okdYi7I_KQ_w504O52TyysQtoaCM2v2NYGAGFNK7FAWEIALGV73wKgz-i5UMpoI8oVRVlOFJhTWz_LuObGrlNBgjB-w-GwVKA/s1600/earlydonuttower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rmMbcTDfhVEzETC4igOrWy_OdyLDrnz_O_9Nf_R4r5okdYi7I_KQ_w504O52TyysQtoaCM2v2NYGAGFNK7FAWEIALGV73wKgz-i5UMpoI8oVRVlOFJhTWz_LuObGrlNBgjB-w-GwVKA/s400/earlydonuttower.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beginning of the grand ball.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-HaR7lPBUVOnDjz_MriCWyJUMifRLBGc7fsGHOB1cJEPm23P1bdBXLsqYBd3e7BRp-EeooOyci9cPgK_AmamdJafMmrmkhUzs-fACRy_xApLOFbC9W4yr2txNJzwsmQKWJx5oaKCwBzE/s1600/ballonedonuttower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-HaR7lPBUVOnDjz_MriCWyJUMifRLBGc7fsGHOB1cJEPm23P1bdBXLsqYBd3e7BRp-EeooOyci9cPgK_AmamdJafMmrmkhUzs-fACRy_xApLOFbC9W4yr2txNJzwsmQKWJx5oaKCwBzE/s400/ballonedonuttower.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2 hours and a blood blister later</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhuGl_rrrNnNH8-8uwAkMbNtDbEBxfvPV1Q9cGi4Yxyx4eusQ_uIJNAZoP4AG5z8Qg8G9I8IkZAORz6Ikim_DIsvNXr0dhw3PpZYjPXqQblAPl7bVxNBjP2Ak-8Nu6ooDfN-J8uu5rtZg/s1600/ballonecomplete.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhuGl_rrrNnNH8-8uwAkMbNtDbEBxfvPV1Q9cGi4Yxyx4eusQ_uIJNAZoP4AG5z8Qg8G9I8IkZAORz6Ikim_DIsvNXr0dhw3PpZYjPXqQblAPl7bVxNBjP2Ak-8Nu6ooDfN-J8uu5rtZg/s400/ballonecomplete.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's 30 dozen donut holes!<br />
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Fell in bed that evening dreaming of donut nirvana. Just needed to order more donuts in the closest town to complete the massive project. The next day, my long-suffering...very<i> bestest friend</i> in the whole world...who would do <i>anything</i> for me..<b>.little V..</b>.agreed to help with the project. We drove to the bakery where we ordered more donuts. When I asked for our order, the guy at the counter and the owner spoke to one another in loud, accusatory tones...the language was Vietnamese, I think. Seems they had sold our donut holes and only had 4 dozen left. <i>Maybe</i> that would be enough to do the smallest ball at the top....we paid for them and left. What to do now? We needed LOTS of donut holes in a hurry. Walmarts to the rescue!! We raided every last box of their chocolate cake donut holes to cover the center ball.<br />
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Little V, the Middle Sprout and her friend J, and I worked on that donut tower until it was blessedly complete. The topiary was listing a bit, but we were undeterred.<b> The creation contained at least 60 dozen donut holes and it was over 4 feet high!</b> It was almost taller than Little V!<br />
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This story is getting too long, so I'll spare you most of the details of getting the donut contraption (probably weighed over 50 pounds) to the reception hall. It involved several awestruck young bell-boys loading it into a hotel car to drive the short distance to the venue. This<i> donut Washington Monument</i> took on a life of it's own as it precariously swayed with every careful slow turn of the car. The donut topiary was heavy and becoming increasingly unstable. I sent Miss V into the reception hall for some sort of cart, while I held the swaying topiary in the car. Just as precious Miss V starts for the car with the cart, the skies open up and it begins to pour. A Noah's ark-type of rain. Sheets and sheets of rain and a driving wind to boot. Lucky we had just done our hair for the wedding! We lug the ship's-anchor topiary slowly up the ramp to the reception hall as we are soaked to the bone. We bravely saved the monstrosity from certain destruction several times.<br />
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<b>Did you know that wet donut holes weigh LOTS more than plain, dry donut holes??</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBwKfUSE1d3zqGWVFKHq1bLlJWc4vdEavp4iDA8kIGJcDy9MDJlojIjwqYfqxIuTG972hnCT-LKAsJIRNPWo87a2Gspphv7IiRAD0guYMFQCpr42rkepTmXeuTEuSDB4ug_PJ0T77787Q/s1600/k%2526vwithdonuttower1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBwKfUSE1d3zqGWVFKHq1bLlJWc4vdEavp4iDA8kIGJcDy9MDJlojIjwqYfqxIuTG972hnCT-LKAsJIRNPWo87a2Gspphv7IiRAD0guYMFQCpr42rkepTmXeuTEuSDB4ug_PJ0T77787Q/s640/k%2526vwithdonuttower1.jpg" width="418" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sorry for bad photo. Phone pic with very bad back-lighting. We are drenched, but feeling an uneasy sense of accomplishment. I'll post a better photo when the wedding photos come out.</td></tr>
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Our creation was leaning so badly from it's car ride and the drenching rain, it refused to stand upright. We worried it could fall over and injure someone at the reception. The Texan to the rescue! He walked (in the rain) to the beach at the nearby lake and came back with some wet sand. We filled the topiary's container with the wet sand and it seemed to stabilize the wobbling a bit. The hotel staff filled the cupcake papers with the fresh donut holes and things were good to go.<br />
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Lots of folks took photos of the donut-topiary. I was a bit concerned one of the happy, dancing children on the dance floor would run into the donut table and be severely maimed. An unsuspecting lady tried to eat one of the soggy, stale donuts off the topiary and she was told it was for 'display only'. <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>What a horrible waste of food!,</b></span> she huffed.<br />
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The lesson? I need to<i> calm down. </i><b><i>Awesome</i></b> is not necessarily<i><b> better</b></i> all the time. <b>Good</b> is plenty <b>good enough.</b> I should listen to my Middle Sprout. I've told her 5000 times how she was right and why couldn't she 'rein me in'?<br />
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<b><i>I can be exhausting.</i></b><br />
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But I've got one helluva donut wedding story.<br />
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Lots of love to the bride and groom!<br />
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Towering love to all.<br />
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<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-8294216181710963122012-09-25T13:32:00.001-05:002012-09-25T13:32:16.271-05:00butterfly<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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No, no....not<b> that</b> kind of butterfly!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEWR7MQgDJtGmTAVMAySa7sxrXjZjEr8aLPBYmuC2DIxxaesXr_4-j9lHoeAQd0oDuNblEY1oO-Z4U1Q7zxCDptNz0ujEpxViqPeC1g_W94av3B92WOBQ8LIg3l0YteUv1pYk-mBA6R8/s1600/blackbutterfly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEWR7MQgDJtGmTAVMAySa7sxrXjZjEr8aLPBYmuC2DIxxaesXr_4-j9lHoeAQd0oDuNblEY1oO-Z4U1Q7zxCDptNz0ujEpxViqPeC1g_W94av3B92WOBQ8LIg3l0YteUv1pYk-mBA6R8/s320/blackbutterfly.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'm referring to Puccini's<i> Madama Butterfly</i> presented by Amarillo Opera this weekend at the Globe News Center. For us opera neophytes that would be<b><i> Mrs. Butterfly,</i></b> I guess.<br />
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There is a show Saturday evening September 29 and a Sunday matinee on September 30, so you have <b>two </b>chances to catch this magnificent undertaking.<br />
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I'm not gonna pretend to tell you all the plot intricacies of <i>Butterfly,</i> because I've never seen it. I know it's Puccini...it's dramatic...and <i>Butterfly</i> is a treat visually as well as aurally.<br />
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The set is from <a href="http://www.santafeopera.org/">SANTA FE OPERA</a>. All the people<i> 'in the know'</i> and the technicians declare it is a<b><i> BIG, </i></b>impressive set. A<i> '3-trucker',</i> I believe. The set was made possible with a generous donation from a local, opera-loving couple. The structure has the ability to move about the stage. Very impressive. Thank you for this kind gift to our community!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our beautiful Mrs. Butterfly in rehearsal</td></tr>
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I was lucky enough to get a sneak peek of the set and some of the principal performers. I'm always stunned with the talent and impressive sound of these singers. The costumes are sure to be breathtaking, as well.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbYWZbQA_VjwAiSDQgsM9u0zTkF1Z_HYhpnFu3J7rg8ptYzSyvhMLr_5LqXLqsPi58vHyPu1RnUNDZkSr6U6BxDJiz1tQVbujoPJj7zZF4DbOHgANxmcRvAnNoa3v92JFmzy4obmPhwpM/s1600/madame+butterfly+021a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbYWZbQA_VjwAiSDQgsM9u0zTkF1Z_HYhpnFu3J7rg8ptYzSyvhMLr_5LqXLqsPi58vHyPu1RnUNDZkSr6U6BxDJiz1tQVbujoPJj7zZF4DbOHgANxmcRvAnNoa3v92JFmzy4obmPhwpM/s400/madame+butterfly+021a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aren't these ladies gorgeous?</td></tr>
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Don't be surprised if you hear some sad songs....it is<i> Puccini, </i>after all.<br />
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So proud of our local Opera Company. <i><b>Madama Butterfly</b></i> has been a seminal and historic work for Amarillo Opera.<br />
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It's amazing to me that a production of this caliber....with the impressive principals, the gifted singers in our local chorus, the talented conductor and our versatile local symphony musicians can unite to put something so special together in our fantastic Performing Arts Center. It's a monumental undertaking, really.<br />
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Bravi tutti! (that means y'all are fantastic!) I'll even throw in a<i> toi, toi, toi</i> for you.<span style="font-size: xx-small;">***if I had any IDEA what that phrase means***</span><br />
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Time to hatch from your larva stage. You don't want to miss this. It's gonna be EPIC! Call <a href="http://www.amarilloopera.org/">AMARILLO OPERA</a> for tickets.<br />
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Winged-love to all.<br />
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<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-66309799989824849712012-09-20T10:07:00.000-05:002012-09-20T10:07:01.798-05:00castoff<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm feeling kinda<b> naked</b>.<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> **sorry if that conjures unpleasant images**</span></i><br />
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Yesterday was the big unveiling of my new, mending left arm!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikCOU1jhhV1C6VRZG-GRG5VJxcs-UHQyqMouCykPViKdlMtR_KWJwe8Whj6vzT1Wg2RvyGcA9eMHZd6fqs1czAkklVo2Hq5mKvDfGOUaIA3MvYjxqMJ776eyDF_P2iVCmZhxVg92FwcZ0/s1600/IMAG0222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikCOU1jhhV1C6VRZG-GRG5VJxcs-UHQyqMouCykPViKdlMtR_KWJwe8Whj6vzT1Wg2RvyGcA9eMHZd6fqs1czAkklVo2Hq5mKvDfGOUaIA3MvYjxqMJ776eyDF_P2iVCmZhxVg92FwcZ0/s400/IMAG0222.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sawing off the purple cast.<br />
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The cast was off, and here are the<b><i> first photos</i></b> of my liberated wrist.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGDlTGWV7q2FwaITAVrIjbrhwt1MH8p0tJNje0ohPLEl0xyVNmL53KaVkbya81x0KQFcXyDEIDPWSd5Y-cf2Y8Xf-M06CSKqGDLTHruFEOT0VHVK0oTWjQzbzA0XJ1OItxwwDqAelFiUs/s1600/IMAG0225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGDlTGWV7q2FwaITAVrIjbrhwt1MH8p0tJNje0ohPLEl0xyVNmL53KaVkbya81x0KQFcXyDEIDPWSd5Y-cf2Y8Xf-M06CSKqGDLTHruFEOT0VHVK0oTWjQzbzA0XJ1OItxwwDqAelFiUs/s400/IMAG0225.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Free at last......</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFOpNA_lfjSbQ0T_u0siobU7BjoxS6TuB-Dg7ngwSaA4qmVgQ4r5ApdhlKqBu4u0-X6jZCo_jP6os3KZCktTHmR7vISI8wgloNhQdSdpAFWcERjkTNGPgtZf8ldmPNdzgRsmHjh3Rgjc/s1600/IMAG0226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFOpNA_lfjSbQ0T_u0siobU7BjoxS6TuB-Dg7ngwSaA4qmVgQ4r5ApdhlKqBu4u0-X6jZCo_jP6os3KZCktTHmR7vISI8wgloNhQdSdpAFWcERjkTNGPgtZf8ldmPNdzgRsmHjh3Rgjc/s400/IMAG0226.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
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The arm looked pretty good. Some dead skin and flakiness, but nothing too gross.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiepyV-q_8_M3sH3kqnTSGyomxoGIig3nfJoTE2OZysV5Pv1PESHKzvMOe1LMyqw7DWDSVmZLHdaJ_-OKQLxT4bbqH4oqD7WgOxVoQcofQIjvQoSSnVdBWkLh9LeS-LKxV2qb5jwEM7spE/s1600/IMAG0227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiepyV-q_8_M3sH3kqnTSGyomxoGIig3nfJoTE2OZysV5Pv1PESHKzvMOe1LMyqw7DWDSVmZLHdaJ_-OKQLxT4bbqH4oqD7WgOxVoQcofQIjvQoSSnVdBWkLh9LeS-LKxV2qb5jwEM7spE/s400/IMAG0227.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Although feeling pretty stiff and sore, the hand gives the 'thumbs up'.<br />
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Seven weeks and one day with a cast. Nurse said, <i>'Do you want to keep the cast?'</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>Of course!</i></b></span> How could I so cruelly discard my beloved purple exoskeleton?<br />
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Showed the purple cast to Roxy Doxy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwjgyE5dfw92YInhrDwSOAxmOa-vyLBPvZ_Fho3KUBh3tIDA74D-tPe8hxMApQfgQlLwlvkagypsOWIyhHm7fhUCfqILeBSNwc9o4DBScbtw26bzUaHG0YU8wJVuNzNyUbFywyf-QrVPs/s1600/cast+006a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwjgyE5dfw92YInhrDwSOAxmOa-vyLBPvZ_Fho3KUBh3tIDA74D-tPe8hxMApQfgQlLwlvkagypsOWIyhHm7fhUCfqILeBSNwc9o4DBScbtw26bzUaHG0YU8wJVuNzNyUbFywyf-QrVPs/s400/cast+006a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doxy<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>: </i><b><i>'It's a shame to throw away something so useful and delightfully smelly. Can't we find a use for it?'</i></b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>Whadayathink, Doxy?</i></b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyJHtgj9duc2jWkIB0FDHLs3K_GpEsEFcLdIaDTeZu7_YrXt0XAULqP1cHRiucav0ca_oLMFvuKovl4hg6a0kOCI_Kf8gMUD7eXFh6yjOyfxP9pwQwY7s5xngnmP_TzWwYpByQk4NEwg/s1600/cast+009a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyJHtgj9duc2jWkIB0FDHLs3K_GpEsEFcLdIaDTeZu7_YrXt0XAULqP1cHRiucav0ca_oLMFvuKovl4hg6a0kOCI_Kf8gMUD7eXFh6yjOyfxP9pwQwY7s5xngnmP_TzWwYpByQk4NEwg/s400/cast+009a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>'We could repurpose the cast as a delightful candle holder? Or, a dog biscuit dispenser?'</b></i></span></td></tr>
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'<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>I dunno Doxy. Seems kind of tacky to me.'</i></b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv3P4sEoGzdMwQ0Qbed3UWJQC1DS8V-JaWffRQDu_G20NbtLISPmwQuvk-fMX17rA1GysEr7vDrFJtDxpo0LpFBCj-DmOIh_Y4Ck7mQjSkHXfqAPdtc0ySBaQvxAIWA02AJduzrGHpABc/s1600/cast+014a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv3P4sEoGzdMwQ0Qbed3UWJQC1DS8V-JaWffRQDu_G20NbtLISPmwQuvk-fMX17rA1GysEr7vDrFJtDxpo0LpFBCj-DmOIh_Y4Ck7mQjSkHXfqAPdtc0ySBaQvxAIWA02AJduzrGHpABc/s400/cast+014a.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>'A festive Christmas ornament?'</b></i></span><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaMJBfrXjN2LSzQAScjAXg9X5UmoA_czcRUx4LUo02Nj3eOeEqudOWLxeD3YKlBNX6hmeE6UPhfy5DrfWkrqXNTLuczYT2SagRGQcnvUV25LUtqJ02kjQGZPEOLXldzayzxFzyRGbcMKE/s1600/cast+016a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaMJBfrXjN2LSzQAScjAXg9X5UmoA_czcRUx4LUo02Nj3eOeEqudOWLxeD3YKlBNX6hmeE6UPhfy5DrfWkrqXNTLuczYT2SagRGQcnvUV25LUtqJ02kjQGZPEOLXldzayzxFzyRGbcMKE/s400/cast+016a.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>'A useful head cover for your 5 iron?'</i></b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>'A toothpaste/toothbrush caddie?'</i></b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>'Doxy, those are all clever ideas. Maybe we should just leave it in the closet for now until we can agree on how best to recycle the purple cast.'</i></b></span><br />
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While Doxy took meticulous notes on possible ideas to reuse the purple cast, I was <span style="font-size: large;"><b>glorying</b></span> in washing my face....with <span style="font-size: large;"><b>BOTH</b></span> hands. I indulged in a one arm spa treatment with warm water, soap and a washcloth. Followed it up with a liberal dose of lotion.<i><b> Heavenly.</b></i><br />
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Here's my new chic arm covering for the next 3 weeks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTQZFZMTnx1zzPMpA1XRSmD8C8ORWk5h2Gk7uca1xcnrjC6J28OUSw3azPWlKXAE9n1D4i71ogsW4IWCEumnu9URg4IItDkSDB5hfdWCd11acZG8gcvsMOuBppq_5bfAZq2ypM-4s5h0/s1600/cast+012a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTQZFZMTnx1zzPMpA1XRSmD8C8ORWk5h2Gk7uca1xcnrjC6J28OUSw3azPWlKXAE9n1D4i71ogsW4IWCEumnu9URg4IItDkSDB5hfdWCd11acZG8gcvsMOuBppq_5bfAZq2ypM-4s5h0/s400/cast+012a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Say 'hello' to the lovely black splint!<br /><br /></td></tr>
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I'm working through the expected stiffness and soreness. It will take time and a large dose of determination to regain good use of this wrist. Good thing I'm determined and fairly patient. Mainly for now, I'm grateful. <i>Supremely and utterly grateful.</i><br />
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My patience could be wearing thin, however. Caught a glimpse of<i> THIS</i> last evening.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2Bfu6Z_yr9kufk6u90L4zn-94uTed6ynT0j0KadOqysjpGvLqqDOqvYlpRvzfzRNiPNHCTkfquTouV_SqXtlgZbepWg-amYLWyJxtrWf3dBrz-sLiH2H2-rDENY1JOPenaSCDaqUOSg/s1600/doxy+halloween+012a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2Bfu6Z_yr9kufk6u90L4zn-94uTed6ynT0j0KadOqysjpGvLqqDOqvYlpRvzfzRNiPNHCTkfquTouV_SqXtlgZbepWg-amYLWyJxtrWf3dBrz-sLiH2H2-rDENY1JOPenaSCDaqUOSg/s640/doxy+halloween+012a.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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A certain, stubby-legged pooch seems to be preparing costumes for Halloween. It's not EVEN October!<br />
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Oh, lawzee. This makes the toothpaste caddie look mighty appealing. <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>help</i></span><br />
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Celebrating a <b>wristapalooza</b> today!!<br />
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Healing love to all.<br />
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<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-49553128350690437802012-09-13T21:54:00.000-05:002012-09-13T21:54:11.857-05:00counting daysLife with the purple cast has gotten easier and I've regained lots of mobility in my fingers and in other parts of my arm. Amazed every day at the healing power that comes from God. So grateful for it, and I wish the same healing power to all those experiencing sickness and injury.<br />
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The purple cast has been lifting weights! It started with a 1 lb. weight and it was spotted at the gym today heaving a 7.5 pound weight! It can do shoulder presses, hammer curls and tricep kick-backs. Can't stand to look at the bowl of mush that <i>used to be</i> my pretty-well-defined (for an old gal!) upper arm. The purple cast was unable to lift a gallon jug of milk from the fridge this morning, but look out-it's bound to happen before too long.<br />
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Counting the days until purple cast gets sawed off. I know, I know....there's rehab ahead of me, but I'm ready to get to it.<i> Five days, five days.....FIVE DAYS, ELEVEN HOURS!!</i><br />
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<b><i>Here's how I've been counting down.</i></b><br />
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Friday night, the Texan and I kept this imp.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilN5pUTtH1wuaS9w7DDKdzG9SjdTQ77jMob7PxxPOJtsTaY6BBfdKbNXz8Vk6FF_2F_AcGVQUcyg9RYU6szFGDx125I5MotU9cGTLSQOTeVuYRx93wyx1f-Mxw7PpZkj5rrkZ9BLtOCgM/s1600/grahaminchair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilN5pUTtH1wuaS9w7DDKdzG9SjdTQ77jMob7PxxPOJtsTaY6BBfdKbNXz8Vk6FF_2F_AcGVQUcyg9RYU6szFGDx125I5MotU9cGTLSQOTeVuYRx93wyx1f-Mxw7PpZkj5rrkZ9BLtOCgM/s400/grahaminchair.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">who has teeth??<br /></td></tr>
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Been feeling really useless as a baby-sitter lately. Baby G is very mobile now and he hasn't missed any meals, <i>if you know what I mean.</i> The purple cast couldn't do a thing for a while. But NOW, I can kinda pick him up and I can change a diaper. Even with two good arms, G can be a challenge. He's coming up on his first birthday. KK loves you, baby G!<br />
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This past weekend was spectacular; cooler weather and blessed little wind.<b> Perfection.</b> Took the purple cast out to pull weeds in the secret garden on Saturday. The cast made a lackluster effort to pull weeds, but it was amused by the wildlife.<br />
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The butterflies are really loving the lantana, and many of them visit every day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqEyhdHZfWAPRCHC5OpxRf58KGBryH04VYdrOtCp_WpNZNn6z2VTPyQPGrfXOGE5O8Qiw0lKmA0AFN754qDonBzP0K17ZVQBKlv7NUY-dCA0vtY-AK5iQUFGx1G7gMI4CAxCG2VLEmIXY/s1600/blackbutterfly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqEyhdHZfWAPRCHC5OpxRf58KGBryH04VYdrOtCp_WpNZNn6z2VTPyQPGrfXOGE5O8Qiw0lKmA0AFN754qDonBzP0K17ZVQBKlv7NUY-dCA0vtY-AK5iQUFGx1G7gMI4CAxCG2VLEmIXY/s400/blackbutterfly.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the handsome black butterfly visitor<br /><br /></td></tr>
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While he should have been weeding and working, the purple cast sighted another visitor. Don't know the name of this critter. Do any of you know what these are called?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitklJN6SZafQZP6TmTMq-aLgwgrqPQgmGUMhwVLRItgnD72lcT6L2_4cgVEYc5MVjkkRJjnbev2ih8MoEUR1cERYPcOuBbhuw678M_sJnsN3zReAUpl7Q994GRqF5M4DXXPLwgqX3rAWs/s1600/hummingbirdmoth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitklJN6SZafQZP6TmTMq-aLgwgrqPQgmGUMhwVLRItgnD72lcT6L2_4cgVEYc5MVjkkRJjnbev2ih8MoEUR1cERYPcOuBbhuw678M_sJnsN3zReAUpl7Q994GRqF5M4DXXPLwgqX3rAWs/s640/hummingbirdmoth.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I call this a hummingbird moth. Guess I should Google the real name.<br /><br /><br /></td></tr>
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There were several of these guys buzzing around, while the purple cast and I were weeding. They made us smile.<br />
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Decided to cook dinner on the patio, since the weather was unusually outstanding. Grilled steaks, made a crisp salad, and boiled a few green beans (in bacon, of course) for our dinner. While were were dining al fresco, the Texan noticed a visitor.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiLMiVKUFmnflZsx1mr_t-J9ugksCnFe7v7H_uH09k2RT1w6S8RG_LNm9XHXwnHk5FvMXFyMl68xTlenDUCP0YL9zYQtFV00WaPwE0YWQP68ZeEnep9kztOQSu8CVN8SDj4rW3SDPImZo/s1600/spideronwall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiLMiVKUFmnflZsx1mr_t-J9ugksCnFe7v7H_uH09k2RT1w6S8RG_LNm9XHXwnHk5FvMXFyMl68xTlenDUCP0YL9zYQtFV00WaPwE0YWQP68ZeEnep9kztOQSu8CVN8SDj4rW3SDPImZo/s400/spideronwall.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">do you see him?<br /><br /></td></tr>
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Fall is the season for tarantulas around here, and folks are spotting them everywhere. Was traumatized when one jumped in my entryway the other night as I was taking the unsuspecting doxy for an evening walk. The Texan saved us and herded the spider outside.<br />
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The tarantulas are pretty harmless and it's kinda fun to spy them creeping around this time of year.<br />
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Don't ask me where they spend their time during the other seasons of the year.....I've no idea. Hopefully not in my secret garden.<br />
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<i>Five days, five days, FIVE DAYS.....10 and 1/2 hours!</i><br />
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I'll let you know how it goes. Probably make you look at pictures, too!<br />
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The purple cast is giving all of you a thumbs up.<br />
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Rehabilitating love to all.<br />
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<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-88599409183541640052012-08-21T11:30:00.000-05:002012-08-21T20:43:20.715-05:00if ever I loved thee<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>My Jesus, I love thee</b></i></span><br />
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It was an accident and it left me like this.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4y9AMqpo-_CoVODZ_ZQ8uwk4BZjdYThT9a8HABn02r1zbnwVW-jaT_hyQmuMNeUoOH8gz0NFLYZMfm7_aExoQbdSdyQhsw9KB2EIfXsfRFTM0abFmLFdiikrjZm3HbIcFbPfWk7-jwk/s1600/broke+arm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4y9AMqpo-_CoVODZ_ZQ8uwk4BZjdYThT9a8HABn02r1zbnwVW-jaT_hyQmuMNeUoOH8gz0NFLYZMfm7_aExoQbdSdyQhsw9KB2EIfXsfRFTM0abFmLFdiikrjZm3HbIcFbPfWk7-jwk/s400/broke+arm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Radius bone broken in three places<br />
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The event floods my memory with the terrible triplets: <i> coulda, woulda and shoulda</i>. All the things I could have done differently. Trying out a new horse.<b> Obviously,</b> I might have done some things differently. Ortho said surgery was a definite possibility. Regret and disappointment in getting myself so banged up. I should KNOW better.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjziD1wMjDv6nTZSR9zM104Kkzu_qjUt-8V_LniTsLwleqVSlKKegwzOgHoGG4RKZrxOw0MC3_P6QYupkq5H9de1JeAZHpDo_z_H2E7yh0O0DgaSumjssn1je_tPfY4GPU88-YRNK1Reas/s1600/bruisedarm1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjziD1wMjDv6nTZSR9zM104Kkzu_qjUt-8V_LniTsLwleqVSlKKegwzOgHoGG4RKZrxOw0MC3_P6QYupkq5H9de1JeAZHpDo_z_H2E7yh0O0DgaSumjssn1je_tPfY4GPU88-YRNK1Reas/s400/bruisedarm1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After two weeks, soft cast off. X-rays taken.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good news! No need for surgery. High-fived the ortho with my good hand.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>I know Thou are mine</b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This experience left me in lots of pain (special thanks to Tylenol 3 with codeine and the old stand-by Valium!) and relying on the kindness of others to help me perform everyday tasks. I'll remember the 2012 Summer Olympics from a drug-induced haze prostrate on my bed. <i>Did Michael Phelps win any gold??</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Anyone who deals with horses has either been injured themselves, or knows someone who has been injured or killed in a horse accident. I've had my share of mishaps-but never have I experienced so violent a mishap as this. A human body careening into a pipe fence is a recipe for disaster. Especially.....a 55 year old body. I keep dreaming about this accident. I wonder why I didn't die. Really. It makes me shiver. Why? Did God throw his heavenly lasso around me to save me from serious injury/death? It feels like it. <b>Luck</b> doesn't begin to describe my good fortune.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>For Thee all the follies of sin I resign</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was understandably blue, but then I got this <b><i>crazy purple cast. </i></b>I was still in pain, but here was proof I was<i> healing.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span>
Headed to the cabin for a little R&R to regain my strength and enjoy the serene mountains with the Texan.<br />
That's when<i> strange things</i> started happening....<b>.the purple cast was taking on a life of it's own!!</b><br />
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The purple cast reveled in new abilities.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqGfRYr9gaGDbJ38tymkH1ZX95g5KQ9rcC5fcWdDmOHmuY_AAofcBqh4PwX2SUCMa9xDEKIxDVIQOby0kPgEfSuH9PUzXO62lUZwVLwJPAN6VLVm3OGv93Y5_rtPJOoyaAoBMdgtZarA/s1600/purplecast+001a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqGfRYr9gaGDbJ38tymkH1ZX95g5KQ9rcC5fcWdDmOHmuY_AAofcBqh4PwX2SUCMa9xDEKIxDVIQOby0kPgEfSuH9PUzXO62lUZwVLwJPAN6VLVm3OGv93Y5_rtPJOoyaAoBMdgtZarA/s320/purplecast+001a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It took a nap on the hammock.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9EvXngibgCqq6WtMtX0sSEIGSBZyMTrlkghjUfrJlkB_aPcsESJe6_ue47iKt5NdYbgn-NclHCMBAy1FjBfOuw3m81RiMXJ0HEfzuaJTDP4FAoO71k4cWoUCVYCJoXTf9w5XxCXX5Mok/s1600/purplecast+028a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9EvXngibgCqq6WtMtX0sSEIGSBZyMTrlkghjUfrJlkB_aPcsESJe6_ue47iKt5NdYbgn-NclHCMBAy1FjBfOuw3m81RiMXJ0HEfzuaJTDP4FAoO71k4cWoUCVYCJoXTf9w5XxCXX5Mok/s320/purplecast+028a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It admired the wildflowers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimxoVmWupq2ZH6FwLnv9c3KJlBhbvKTn8MjxCuabZnS0LaILzhsBPRKus_tk92hSjBKh-sxedBhHWrpmhbswQrrlfbH70JOx3et07G5lkqWYHdWvHTxT00TV3tjLXakYlZcYqCDo9Rga0/s1600/purplecast+017a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimxoVmWupq2ZH6FwLnv9c3KJlBhbvKTn8MjxCuabZnS0LaILzhsBPRKus_tk92hSjBKh-sxedBhHWrpmhbswQrrlfbH70JOx3et07G5lkqWYHdWvHTxT00TV3tjLXakYlZcYqCDo9Rga0/s320/purplecast+017a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As the pincher fingers gained strength, the cast picked a raspberry!</td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou</i></b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnC7S8tXfACcc4ygT536TWxrrQLx49FcpZwocaH_0O0oTB3hj5m8Xs7Q0yKul9xKDnCZLs46TWrlTWbFzUuxrNRPQndWch1qs9_t1ZLAmOkQc_gl2Al_sTFAN-mFNKf40A9Y1tDk3YGDE/s1600/purplecast+031a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnC7S8tXfACcc4ygT536TWxrrQLx49FcpZwocaH_0O0oTB3hj5m8Xs7Q0yKul9xKDnCZLs46TWrlTWbFzUuxrNRPQndWch1qs9_t1ZLAmOkQc_gl2Al_sTFAN-mFNKf40A9Y1tDk3YGDE/s320/purplecast+031a.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ringing the dinner bell.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7I5uKAfOKlgbZmqm7r4V3Z4atLJIhywvNjhuQ8JTAJskLeED2bDYknX4hXe95eia1iKHEFlmRnxQek4q5Uq0koXE8J2o7wl9g_4BVU76vfOZ7v-OVeZn8PNqCJJYX-l-4541WO8FFDpA/s1600/purplecast+020a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7I5uKAfOKlgbZmqm7r4V3Z4atLJIhywvNjhuQ8JTAJskLeED2bDYknX4hXe95eia1iKHEFlmRnxQek4q5Uq0koXE8J2o7wl9g_4BVU76vfOZ7v-OVeZn8PNqCJJYX-l-4541WO8FFDpA/s320/purplecast+020a.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Admiring the fire extinguisher the Texan installed on the cabin.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtp_An_RHa6UaySaGMGuSinDsqd1zmjouOPL2EaWTHQ_W-dZkdwXRj8s5Qbp8qR_Wxyt0UQ1l8OShi9RR2xwKGg-fCvMBXZ_Qs-ugsrE-qplS3A0sQo2iNsSYBbdy3kSDdqQdJ5ncyrV8/s1600/purplecast+033a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtp_An_RHa6UaySaGMGuSinDsqd1zmjouOPL2EaWTHQ_W-dZkdwXRj8s5Qbp8qR_Wxyt0UQ1l8OShi9RR2xwKGg-fCvMBXZ_Qs-ugsrE-qplS3A0sQo2iNsSYBbdy3kSDdqQdJ5ncyrV8/s320/purplecast+033a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Relearning to type.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWd8k0dT8MintJTRi4K3MqJytSzdUT7ioeqM1jM9aYNgOfhfcGffJf4HaKxVzVRPQl9qA8y18KSyjxcwUvxyzSww7XCKoezxr-97Iyx-f7d5ttV7YAVBa5lgq-XrWrvkvJVuMJO3aTVc/s1600/purplecast+037a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWd8k0dT8MintJTRi4K3MqJytSzdUT7ioeqM1jM9aYNgOfhfcGffJf4HaKxVzVRPQl9qA8y18KSyjxcwUvxyzSww7XCKoezxr-97Iyx-f7d5ttV7YAVBa5lgq-XrWrvkvJVuMJO3aTVc/s320/purplecast+037a.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Painting a door.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiOo7rooA6K3bpZjvd3sCoINBJy78zGE7XCRcIp-zFT4PRVAKDCsSiKsOtWFPi2LN02vLeXJftpx9kf7RWPiliiBRYlGxEVviL36cnMVZ_l8nl_fClpDyD09inHauwzJgthBu1MbzSw0/s1600/purplecast+013a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiOo7rooA6K3bpZjvd3sCoINBJy78zGE7XCRcIp-zFT4PRVAKDCsSiKsOtWFPi2LN02vLeXJftpx9kf7RWPiliiBRYlGxEVviL36cnMVZ_l8nl_fClpDyD09inHauwzJgthBu1MbzSw0/s320/purplecast+013a.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holding the<i> dead man's</i> hand. Apropos.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jrwxFAe63pNwNiXnZK_i6rO1X2OiFsvXiDWKrQBZ47S_DE7_Ll5TJ3sR36J4FmKOikCKbxcpnaetOlPf4o1bJpLblucFiXt7BxlI4hkrZYsGfPQPXNboflAANVMkZpCq6c8Uu48SRJs/s1600/purplecast+019a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jrwxFAe63pNwNiXnZK_i6rO1X2OiFsvXiDWKrQBZ47S_DE7_Ll5TJ3sR36J4FmKOikCKbxcpnaetOlPf4o1bJpLblucFiXt7BxlI4hkrZYsGfPQPXNboflAANVMkZpCq6c8Uu48SRJs/s320/purplecast+019a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gripping the shuttlecock and dreaming of senior, para-Olympic badminton championships.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivho6V2tIrTg5TxNISAiO4hpLYXjy5uhJRlouhpRLgXnO5QDIH7qKJJ4fL2buPXKV-jd8bxgtTbfcNkT1v9OpfoZETlqtStS-8-COpIdwtPO1BZD3GQEdj14oUTMrJqnvRvTDZOBDbM5Y/s1600/purplecast+025a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivho6V2tIrTg5TxNISAiO4hpLYXjy5uhJRlouhpRLgXnO5QDIH7qKJJ4fL2buPXKV-jd8bxgtTbfcNkT1v9OpfoZETlqtStS-8-COpIdwtPO1BZD3GQEdj14oUTMrJqnvRvTDZOBDbM5Y/s320/purplecast+025a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What?! The cast starts getting sassy and scolds the beloved Roxy Doxy!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnvp6pk3Th8bE2ywKp2n_gZIW0BN9olydibUmxyq7XnQlcRHhPAj4y7bDaODxymsQWMuW7vliwbJan9Is6sjkLY-f-vErTag8XasM8XDT7fSYGOzT0Z9_7Mcl_Z80HfF5w2qfB6i_1p8/s1600/purplecast+034a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnvp6pk3Th8bE2ywKp2n_gZIW0BN9olydibUmxyq7XnQlcRHhPAj4y7bDaODxymsQWMuW7vliwbJan9Is6sjkLY-f-vErTag8XasM8XDT7fSYGOzT0Z9_7Mcl_Z80HfF5w2qfB6i_1p8/s320/purplecast+034a.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The purple cast wonders if it's 5 o'clock. Don't let the Texan catch you in his spiced rum!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The trip re-invigorated me. Gave me a chance to gain strength and ponder what lies ahead for me. Made me realize the power of personal forgiveness. What am I gonna do with this future God has given me? I'm <i>thinking.</i>...if you have any ideas, I'm open to hearing them. For now, the reins are in God's hands. After having them torn from my left hand, I gave them to Him with my capable right hand. My steering's not so good at the moment.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus tis now.</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Along with the druggy Olympics, this song rattled around in my brain as I recovered. Pretty blessed thing to have pin-balling around, right? I sang this with my church choir my first Sunday back at church. I earnestly and gratefully meant every word as I never meant anything before in my life. Be kind to yourself, and take a listen to this powerful song.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>Listen <a href="http://psumc.com/musicarchive">right here</a> Click on the right-hand menu of<i><b> My Jesus I Love Thee</b></i> to watch. Sorry to make you work for it, cuz I'm not savvy enough to post the direct link. The video is<b> so</b> worth the effort.<br />
<br />
The purple cast sends spiced rum love to all.<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-79525444368111347172012-07-15T21:33:00.002-05:002012-07-15T21:33:40.806-05:00still standingJust returned from our delayed vacation. We traveled to the Colorado cabin after the evacuation from the Waldo Canyon fire was lifted. We didn't spend any time in Colorado Springs (where the damage was severe) because we were interested in our 'neck of the woods'. We could see the scalded hillside along Highway 24 headed to Woodland Park. We were stopped by some foreboding law enforcement officials questioning us as to our intentions in the forest.. The Pike National Forest was closed to the public and we had to prove we had business in this area of the forest.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTa3wMouqvk-EwhRBlJMhXSPPPCTcYduiG1OwBTku6cxXVSgBFTV1Jq6Gj6rKBo5rI50GgZiqBC6XGr1Bwn4SIec6WvUMPKTH0vJQyD35WPR2b7yZvBXwucw0Z1tWZs8rIpU5z3yUlz64/s1600/grahaminmtns+040a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTa3wMouqvk-EwhRBlJMhXSPPPCTcYduiG1OwBTku6cxXVSgBFTV1Jq6Gj6rKBo5rI50GgZiqBC6XGr1Bwn4SIec6WvUMPKTH0vJQyD35WPR2b7yZvBXwucw0Z1tWZs8rIpU5z3yUlz64/s400/grahaminmtns+040a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cabin was still standing!</td></tr>
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I kissed the ground. I hugged every neighbor. I skipped through the forest. I thanked God in my prayers. This mountain neighborhood is precious to us. Entering the cabin feels like a warm, comforting, pine-y embrace.<br />
<br />
We chatted with our friends about the fire and where they stayed during the days of evacuation. There was a renewed sense of appreciation and happiness around the lakes.<br />
<br />
The Texan did some<i> fire mitigation<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (professional forest service word)</span></i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>around our house.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhsUO1fJxn_qXIV6magMivQhTFRDXIDi8NWrYjLRg4RQxg4DtjyW7OkrNlTVlVBVivbgJJMVqX39WLiOpy6UnwyrZCBfpZn1tga31yvvNfHM7aNIH2WH6T975uD5208WwFJYfs-uc8zhw/s1600/grahaminmtns+038a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhsUO1fJxn_qXIV6magMivQhTFRDXIDi8NWrYjLRg4RQxg4DtjyW7OkrNlTVlVBVivbgJJMVqX39WLiOpy6UnwyrZCBfpZn1tga31yvvNfHM7aNIH2WH6T975uD5208WwFJYfs-uc8zhw/s400/grahaminmtns+038a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clearing around the propane tank<br />
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He and the Son-in-Law sawed and sawed and made big piles of limbs to be chipped later. I kept telling everyone who would listen,<i> "The Texan has piles, the Texan has piles!" </i>No one found the humor in that,<i> can you imagine??</i> The Texan kept confusing his fire <i>'mitigation'</i> with<b> amelioration</b> or some such nonsense. It's<i><b><span style="font-size: large;"> mitigation</span>, </b></i>Texan!
Living in the middle of a thick forest, miles from town....well...<i>.there's only so much one can do to prevent a fire.</i> Our cabin has a metal roof. It was built in the early 1950's and it's covered in ugly asbestos siding. <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pretty is, as pretty does...right?
</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Get this.</i></span> One of the residents had a special fire trailer made and donated it to our neighborhood.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGJhs3Mv2LLIbMFuQT0sOHYvSn-kKeMTeMYcniS8NVReKdgFaw8lO0_H5aShWBFDVQqVJaOOCobDw_JTzWwUMUNzS5E8KHYaXHSNLx2tIOX9veEOBXu1czgIw05p8zEzJbdr7lY_2wPg/s1600/grahaminmtns+035a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGJhs3Mv2LLIbMFuQT0sOHYvSn-kKeMTeMYcniS8NVReKdgFaw8lO0_H5aShWBFDVQqVJaOOCobDw_JTzWwUMUNzS5E8KHYaXHSNLx2tIOX9veEOBXu1czgIw05p8zEzJbdr7lY_2wPg/s400/grahaminmtns+035a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
It holds 1000 gallons of water. It's designed to pump water out of the surrounding lakes and it is a marvel of modern engineering! We are overwhelmed by his kindness and his engineering brilliance. <b>A hearty thank-you to Mr. B!</b> Now,<i> at least,</i> we have a tool to battle a blaze should it break out around our lakes.<br />
<br />
The cabin is a comforting place....a place where history seems to<b> repeat</b> itself. I took this photo of the Grandson on our patio. Prepare yourself for <i>cuteness.</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivsG2WmrhndvYbhJWh6l0FRGr5PRrXvi_SYNUa0pJ1UBUahIJxBq-EvArMOxwdmQpoB5DanqWdWfT_qJpyYmnem1eyLejyCyguJIjSyd8rV74Ua6hkFS8JyK3JVlst-GAVDWJ8BXiI6FQ/s1600/grahaminmtns+011a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivsG2WmrhndvYbhJWh6l0FRGr5PRrXvi_SYNUa0pJ1UBUahIJxBq-EvArMOxwdmQpoB5DanqWdWfT_qJpyYmnem1eyLejyCyguJIjSyd8rV74Ua6hkFS8JyK3JVlst-GAVDWJ8BXiI6FQ/s320/grahaminmtns+011a.jpg" width="254" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom's hand is holding him securely.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">I warned you about cute overload! Here is another.....sorry.....</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7l3piq0-FjkQZHQYiLYPlW0-9gDNEbfcJa1yKny1dOSrPmtQFhbEfh9gz5iGY-t-RwL7O1zxtr_Vb4DJNitypHqoGBSyHcICUFTNG2q0-B1ZrZuUWpy1DNIQf2tqWjOuShNR5QY9Rps/s1600/grahaminmtns+013a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7l3piq0-FjkQZHQYiLYPlW0-9gDNEbfcJa1yKny1dOSrPmtQFhbEfh9gz5iGY-t-RwL7O1zxtr_Vb4DJNitypHqoGBSyHcICUFTNG2q0-B1ZrZuUWpy1DNIQf2tqWjOuShNR5QY9Rps/s640/grahaminmtns+013a.jpg" width="409" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This baby has the goofiest open-mouthed smile. Hope he doesn't choke on a hummingbird.<br />
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History DOES repeat itself.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9JawPAQT9wPkhXiJLgHp_cvUY3UYzbrmkmjje8C8HOQ6pBjZnSZZX_UnvDsLIr61uEnEjuS1vbti6HYZ3X3gZxRmSgRSxe_MY7qxdd3lbtVV0ciZ6_MiKDigpFBZ5FKSTH9bxN4RX0Nk/s1600/Andrew-1986a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9JawPAQT9wPkhXiJLgHp_cvUY3UYzbrmkmjje8C8HOQ6pBjZnSZZX_UnvDsLIr61uEnEjuS1vbti6HYZ3X3gZxRmSgRSxe_MY7qxdd3lbtVV0ciZ6_MiKDigpFBZ5FKSTH9bxN4RX0Nk/s400/Andrew-1986a.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Sprout #3 back in the 80's, hence the bad socks.<br /></td></tr>
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Life has a calm rhythm at the cabin. GrandBob feeds you gruel in the morning.<br />
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Sometimes, a picnic in the forest is celebrated.<br />
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Sometimes, a<b><i> wild mountain bichon </i></b>hovers as you devour your mum-mum.<b> Be very careful, baby!</b><br />
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We are<i> multitudinous gratitudinous.</i> We had a fine time savoring the mountains and counting our blessings for salvation from the (too close) monstrous fire. Our prayers continue for the city of Colorado Springs and for those so devastatingly affected by the fire.<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">What's that, you ask??</span> You are wondering about a<i> certain canine?</i> A very stubby-legged, long-torsoed animal?<br />
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Oh yeah, SHE was there. Thanks for asking.<br />
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No chipmunk got within a half mile of us!<br />
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Blessed salvation love to all.<br />
<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-33889626567715387142012-06-25T08:20:00.000-05:002012-06-25T08:25:05.717-05:00lord of wind and flame<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>I, the Lord of wind and flame</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>I will tend the poor and lame</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>I will set a feast for them</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>My hand will save</i></span><br />
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Singing these words of the hymn <i>Here I Am, Lord</i> choked me up yesterday. I was thinking of all the folks affected by the western wildfires. My heart particularly breaks for the folks around <b>Colorado Springs </b>as they deal with the<b> Waldo Canyon Fire.</b><br />
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I've written many times of our summer forays into Colorado to escape the West Texas heat. The post <a href="http://onachickenwingandaprayer.blogspot.com/2010/06/mountain-mysteries.html">Mountain Mysteries</a> recalls the crazy creatures living around these high country lakes. The area around Colorado Springs, particularly the little town of<b> Woodland Park</b> is dear to our hearts. This land is intricately woven into the tapestry of our family history....all the way back to the Texan's grandfather.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our summer community</td></tr>
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Our friendly fishing community has been evacuated because of the current fire danger. Makes me think of being there just a week ago and of a serene evening walk with the Sprout and the Grandson.<br />
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<i><b>Mom, can you smell that smell?</b></i> (after a light, evening shower) <i><b>Can you smell the dirt mixed with the pine </b></i><b><i>trees?</i></b><br />
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Inhaling deeply. S<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><i>ure can....there's no other fragrance like it.</i></span><br />
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We strolled silently enjoying the beauty of nature and the wonder of that <b>smell</b>. Could we bottle it and bring it home with us?<br />
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We've been blessed to have a little summer home in the mountains. Sure, I worry about it....but I have no real cause for complaint or sympathy. I've relished every moment spent close to God in the mountains. For those folks who<i> live</i> and<i> work</i> there......my prayers and thoughts are with you. So far, so good. Godspeed and God bless the brave firefighters.<br />
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Safe love to all.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-43236451194867142212012-06-22T12:41:00.000-05:002012-06-22T12:55:47.872-05:00secret gardenLast summer+big, fat drought=pathetic landscape around my house. I<i> TRIED </i>to garden last year, but between the deadly combo of extreme heat and wind, most every plant died or was stunted in it's growth. Never savored my homegrown tomato with juice streaming down my cheek.<br />
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This year, I wised up. For my patio....I planted solely succulents or cactus.<i><b><span style="font-size: large;"> Take that West Texas heat and wind!</span></b></i> I can be gone for a week to Colorado and the iron-man plants on my patio survive.<i><b> I'm kickin' </b></i><b><i>bad weather in the face!</i></b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of patio from my breakfast room window</td></tr>
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I realize it's not exactly<b> colorful,</b> but at<i> least </i>there are live, green things on my patio. One of the most interesting and LARGE succulents is this plant. Don't know the real botanical name, but I think this is called firesticks.<br />
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This genial plant enjoys the weather out here! In the fall before the first freeze, I spend lots of time repotting the succulents/cactus and I bring them inside for the winter. They are happy to go back outside when it warms in the Spring.<i> Easy peasy-saves time and moola.</i> This plant is so huge, I don't think I can fit it through a door to bring it in this Fall. Not sure what I'm gonna do.<br />
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What does one do with a big hole in another patio? A hole left by a decrepit inground hot tub?<br />
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One fills the pit with gravel and buries a few aloe. My humble version of a zen garden. Sorry about the weeds-don't judge. Again....not much color, but at least some living things.<br />
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Another plant that does pretty well in the heat....as long as it gets a little water is Russian Sage.<br />
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This sage is near the zen garden. I haven't put anything in those pots-ran out of succulents. Look at the dead tree in my neighbor's yard. Sadly, this is a common sight around town right now.<br />
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The bones of the flower beds in my front yard consist of nandina, decorative yucca, sedum, and some creeping juniper.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The little flowerbed to the right of my front door</td></tr>
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I had a few petunias that were originally in pots. They were getting too dry, so I stuck them in the ground. They've done OK, and they provide a little pop of color in the front yard.<br />
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But, I wanted to show you my <i>secret garden!</i> This is where I have attempted to grow vegs the last couple of years. I just got through weeding this little spot and I thought you'd enjoy seeing it.<i><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> shhhhhh-for your eyes only</span></i><br />
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It's secret cuz it's behind the garage. Can't see it much from the house. One must walk outside to see it. If you came to visit, you wouldn't see it unless I took you out there. You walk out the back door of our garage<br />
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like you are walking up to the Texan's shop
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or like you are going out to play a big game of<i> rock</i> with Roxy-Doxy,<br />
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and it greets you with fun pops of color. I know it's nothing special....just some stuff from the walmarts, mainly. The flower bed is brimming with colorful moss rose, dusty miller, lantana,<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An easy, colorful grower-pink mandevilla!</td></tr>
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and very happy mandevilla. I put in a little micro-sprinkler with a timer on the faucet next to the bed, so it gets watered several times a week. So far, the plants have held up very nicely to the heat and the wind. We've had more rain this Spring than we had the entire year last year. The rain helps and I'm grateful for the beauty.<br />
Can you spot my rockhound tearing up the grass?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjax-d7XtLG0Mm84Z9NbjDWLhM9TlFKao2e5CtuNrZXd2VVxzAAWiPGmjNtybltY7VhQ-MTKjzqJXdw74F7aMeQBclMPH3s2EUk1TXfWlgf0NbOHluECd61E14qYd9PtStEVJX9ye8RGhk/s1600/004a+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjax-d7XtLG0Mm84Z9NbjDWLhM9TlFKao2e5CtuNrZXd2VVxzAAWiPGmjNtybltY7VhQ-MTKjzqJXdw74F7aMeQBclMPH3s2EUk1TXfWlgf0NbOHluECd61E14qYd9PtStEVJX9ye8RGhk/s640/004a+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">she's in the shadow<br />
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Couldn't totally give up my dream of fresh food/produce. I found these funny little bags at a garden store for growing potatoes. You put in the seed potatoes and fill 'er up with dirt. I used some sort of red and white seed potatoes for this experiment. Just add water and sun and in the fall, when the plant starts to die back, you open up the little velcro window in the bags and out fall plump, fresh potatoes. That's the idea, anyway. I'll let you know....best be prepared for coming hard times. At least I'll have a starchy food substance for sustenance.<br />
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It feels positively decadent to have the prettiest part of my yard hidden away from public view, but this humble flowerbed makes me grin. Don't even mind weeding it occasionally. It satisfies the hummingbirds and butterflies, too. If you come over, I'll share it with you if you want. But I'm warnin' you....don't try to grab a potato. You might lose a hand.<br />
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Colorful love to all.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-76496827341407138922012-06-11T09:39:00.000-05:002012-06-11T21:32:45.572-05:00hound of heavenThe phrase <i>hound of heaven</i> is not original with me. The<i> Hound of Heaven</i> is a poem written by Francis Thompson. It refers to God as being a <b>hound </b>in the sense He is resolutely seeking a relationship with us...<i>you and me.</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUidssaqeAAqdxEJL5Tx3uLUY9pxN7IdcaANI5dv_ca8UtrhQL4xGEpguMA4mM7mK_pPMkniocN9TPG4tx2Z6QikoayPRu9wLC6d_neJNZsTQZqTSdUIsN2mK7FePDkRTxh4AI0bdhOMM/s1600/042a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUidssaqeAAqdxEJL5Tx3uLUY9pxN7IdcaANI5dv_ca8UtrhQL4xGEpguMA4mM7mK_pPMkniocN9TPG4tx2Z6QikoayPRu9wLC6d_neJNZsTQZqTSdUIsN2mK7FePDkRTxh4AI0bdhOMM/s400/042a.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He wants you. He<b> REALLY </b>wants you!</td></tr>
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The events of this weekend sprung this doggy imagery to mind. If you've ever owned any type of hound dog, this imagery resonates with you. The hound's heightened sense of smell and his resolve and talent in persuing prey is unparalleled.<br />
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The hound sniffed out my grandmother, Lucy. I keep this certificate of her baptism on my desk. It reminds me of her reliance on faith during the darkest days of World War II when her son,<i> my dad</i>, was serving in the Pacific. The date reads February of 1945. The war was over within the year and my dad was discharged from the Army. He came back in body, at least; not so much in spirit. Lucy was a rock during my chaotic childhood years.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiclJYfzJfPiMlEY2r1YxYgjUXVGuy-Mdba_kH9LJ9SbnJXPNgsQZR4ZKo8YbfBOp4xpdTeyeAj4gx0OM-zSO_IkHxTbADs76gMFugX3eQ6owDF8dLftTB1VnKH7EOokhM_1l4ug-hRp50/s1600/lucy+013a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiclJYfzJfPiMlEY2r1YxYgjUXVGuy-Mdba_kH9LJ9SbnJXPNgsQZR4ZKo8YbfBOp4xpdTeyeAj4gx0OM-zSO_IkHxTbADs76gMFugX3eQ6owDF8dLftTB1VnKH7EOokhM_1l4ug-hRp50/s640/lucy+013a.jpg" width="552" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maybe just an old piece of paper, but precious to me.</td></tr>
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When I was 11 in Del City, Oklahoma, someone knocked on our door from the local Southern Baptist Church. Those were the days when you<i> let people in</i>, and that's just what I did. This lovely lady told me of the One who was seeking me. Someone was seeking<b><i> me</i></b>?...really?! Went to the local church and got baptized. No sprinkling for me....the preacher submerged me and I came up a new person. The hound has continued tracking me, even during days when I wandered far from the safety of his doghouse.<br />
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The Texan and I baptized all of our Sprouts when they were infants. The children were a gift to us, and we wanted to be sure we gave them back to the One who entrusted them to us. That determined hound has kept their scent and they are finding their own ways.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sprout #3's baptism day. He's getting married in September!</td></tr>
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The hounding never stops and guess who is seeking the grandbaby?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby G with his dad</td></tr>
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Our family gathered at a local church to witness G's baptism. The minister claimed G 'packed the pews'!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRNjUKU1rkD9jXRWHm_-TZ0dL8bx2zqWD8Bm-O7s3AH9JFDt90t1M94avaghOwrp2UXbgosL4VlaQOeQgxITEAfHV2drxzq0GFIx44iRSgoETfaBTZ_uPQSWp-Xy2XMLgbAPVolamKSoQ/s1600/baptism+008a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRNjUKU1rkD9jXRWHm_-TZ0dL8bx2zqWD8Bm-O7s3AH9JFDt90t1M94avaghOwrp2UXbgosL4VlaQOeQgxITEAfHV2drxzq0GFIx44iRSgoETfaBTZ_uPQSWp-Xy2XMLgbAPVolamKSoQ/s400/baptism+008a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Darn teeth! When are they going to come in? He chomped his fingers the entire time.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">G isn't aware of the<i> hound of heaven </i>yet, but he'll figure it out someday. We'll be sure to tell him of this day and of the One who is doggedly seeking him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The minister walked G the entire length of the middle aisle to let everyone get a good look at him. The congregants promised to help him grow in faith and to surround him with love.</span></div>
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What a weekend! Sprout #3 was here with his bride-to-be, Jenn. When we weren't baptizing, we were talking of and planning for their big day. Rest assured the hound has his nose on them, as well.<br />
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I feel blessed. Hope you feel that way too, because of the One who will not let you go....nor rest from His seeking of you. How are you being sniffed out?<br />
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<i>Hound-y</i> love to all.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-51305397674380227582012-06-04T21:48:00.000-05:002012-06-04T21:48:31.569-05:00may recap<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Instead of apologizing for being a sluggish and slothful blogger, I'll recap the entire month of MAY for you. Looks like it was a pretty fun month.<b> I've been missing you.</b> Ready to recap??<i> Let's go!</i><br />
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The beginning of the month found me tromping around my yard admiring the blooming yuccas.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yucca blooms on the hill behind my house<br />
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The middle of the month, the Texan and I got to keep the munchkin while his parents were out of town.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">B&W rug-rat<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noticed the number of moths fluttering around my house diminished during his visit. Don't suppose they flew into his constantly open, smiling mouth, do you?<i> Naaawww.</i></td></tr>
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I took advantage of the perfect opportunity to roll around on the floor with my camera and try to catch the drooling tyke in some nice light. I was pretty proud of these...<i>.but I'm pretty partial to the subject!</i><br />
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Later in the month, the Texan and I headed to Oklahoma City for the wedding of our nephew, Bob. It was a wonderful trip and we are over-the-moon for Bob and Laura. Bob's mom called and asked if we would care to participate in the 'flash-mob dance' at the wedding.<span style="font-size: large;"><i> Flash-mob dance??</i> </span>Well...<span style="font-size: large;">.count me IN!</span> I'm packin' my dancin' shoes!<b> I can cross 'flash-mob dancing' off my bucket list now. <i>Wowza!! </i></b>The Texan politely declined. Here's a video of the flash-mob dance. I'm the goofy older lady dressed in black in the front. The mother of the groom is the beautiful blond in the bright blue dress.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=rjg2FuA5ngA">http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=rjg2FuA5ngA</a><br />
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Can you guess what Roxy-Doxy and I are doing in this next photograph?<br />
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<i>If you guessed watching the solar eclipse, you'd be correct!</i> I read on the internets one should NEVER look at the sun directly. Being a good citizen of eclipse observing, I poked a hole in a cardboard box and waited for the moon to cross over and black out the pattern of circular light. I didn't observe a damn thing, but you'll be glad to know I saved my retinas. Can't speak for the wiener. The pic pretty well depicts the level of excitement on that chilly evening.<br />
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That brings us to events of last weekend. The Women's Ranch Rodeo in Amarillo! My lovely daughter-in-law competed on one of the teams.<br />
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She roped a calf and cut some calves out of a herd. We whooped and hollered while her husband kept track of the times.<br />
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They didn't win first place at the rodeo, but they had a highly respectable showing. Judging from the smile, I guess we didn't embarrass her too badly. Congrats ladies, on your mad horsemanship and rodeo skills!!<br />
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Whole thing made me want to spend more time with my 'best-old-lady-horse-in-the-world', Rodney.<br />
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Thanks for catching up. I'm flashing you a grin....on horseback....just like the photo above!<br />
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Unburned retina love to all.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-11996998468620204672012-05-07T14:44:00.000-05:002012-05-07T14:44:37.082-05:00baconizationI detest the food Nazis. I eat/drink copious amounts of 'so-called' offending foods as a form of private protest<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: xx-small;">.***fist raised***</span> The junk science the food Nazis try to spoon-feed the American public....well, it's purely annoying and faddish.<br />
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<b>THEN</b>-remember the evils of <i>coffee?</i> Coffee was gonna kill you, raise your blood pressure and clog your arteries sure enough....better stop drinking it or wind up six feet under!<br />
<b>NOW-</b>coffee is a wonder drink that stimulates the brain and wards off Alzheimers. It reduces your sudoku completion time! Coffee applied directly to the skin can reduce wrinkles and banish cellulite forever. Owning a Keuring is now an acceptable form of health insurance.<br />
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<i>Hey Texan....how's the construction of the coffee endless pool coming along??</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
Movie popcorn, beef, eggs and milk have all found themselves in the food-Nazi's crosshairs.<br />
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Another food sounding the alarm for the food police?....<b>..bacon.</b><br />
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<b>THEN</b>-bacon is fatty and the animal fat will clog your arteries and your heart will explode. It contains harmful nitrates which cause crazy cancers in white lab rats. <b style="font-style: italic;">Run for the hills people!! </b>Only an insane person with a salted-pork death wish would touch the stuff.<br />
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I adore fried, salty, nitrate-laden, crispy pork belly. I never quit eating it...probably have it 2-3 mornings a week with a nice piece of whole wheat toast.<br />
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But<i> law-zee,</i> people....have you noticed the current trend?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5w-_fCpgC0nZeJjwNGMuc5PDneEnxPzEJrv8DWTVPmT5k7r7zbAQvAfcFs3UiRTQ9_IugJM0cbJdCzavzNm8PC8vyqLLJ1UkyVSgoBeyLDxD_rTV0sVAYA9ODoqYTjzgCwRihWvzshDM/s1600/benandjerry.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5w-_fCpgC0nZeJjwNGMuc5PDneEnxPzEJrv8DWTVPmT5k7r7zbAQvAfcFs3UiRTQ9_IugJM0cbJdCzavzNm8PC8vyqLLJ1UkyVSgoBeyLDxD_rTV0sVAYA9ODoqYTjzgCwRihWvzshDM/s400/benandjerry.png" width="332" /></a></div>
No longer is bacon a compliment to fried eggs or pancakes completing the perfect breakfast.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIP69LpU1mLkMRijJVjiJpylGf4DqaSiXGWeXEpamCr5HUTsuC92OfjgQIzfiv_XNuLFHjeziKmDqyybFC4qrCnljG1Ji6DkzROmePDIkgGJtzyag64BfVQtDP8bTy5QSwzzeTocwdFE/s1600/dennys+bacon+sundae.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIP69LpU1mLkMRijJVjiJpylGf4DqaSiXGWeXEpamCr5HUTsuC92OfjgQIzfiv_XNuLFHjeziKmDqyybFC4qrCnljG1Ji6DkzROmePDIkgGJtzyag64BfVQtDP8bTy5QSwzzeTocwdFE/s400/dennys+bacon+sundae.png" width="400" /></a></div>
It's not just another topping to pile on our mega-triple-bacon cheeseburger.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQtHPisZzXPoSLpPh5-QThyzm_lhuWZ-mdU9T1FMw5zx9TzwWsjuBtPac0mFg0XL0A879xooZaKhKyv0aqp_JXJl-ALqH_bvBPug5KL0Wc0Bf_Mjg0aFrvoag1DPG1Ti1J8Ge-upfY6E/s1600/burgerkingsundae.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQtHPisZzXPoSLpPh5-QThyzm_lhuWZ-mdU9T1FMw5zx9TzwWsjuBtPac0mFg0XL0A879xooZaKhKyv0aqp_JXJl-ALqH_bvBPug5KL0Wc0Bf_Mjg0aFrvoag1DPG1Ti1J8Ge-upfY6E/s400/burgerkingsundae.png" width="400" /></a></div>
We are <b>so highly evolved</b>, bacon is <i>no longer</i> the<b><i> perfect </i></b>compliment to tasty baked beans.<br />
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<b>NOW</b>-crispy, fried pork is the ingredient<i> du jour</i> in our ice cream! It tastes even better when the shake is made with yummy, fake-bacon flavoring. Mmmm-mmm-mm!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlNSpdFDyiiP53K-JCkbPgsLeslxNCUip-7jZdGuhupo8dao9V_sQ3i34FOdlTdxUQQLRFWbqs3dORy4iyqvRGee3efUyRZkjuwriEqWVW7Oo3Pbre_zOD0RDGLlHLN_LXKfe0-Lf1XKY/s1600/jackinthebox.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlNSpdFDyiiP53K-JCkbPgsLeslxNCUip-7jZdGuhupo8dao9V_sQ3i34FOdlTdxUQQLRFWbqs3dORy4iyqvRGee3efUyRZkjuwriEqWVW7Oo3Pbre_zOD0RDGLlHLN_LXKfe0-Lf1XKY/s400/jackinthebox.png" width="400" /></a></div>
A bacon-flavored shake is precisely what I'm cravin'. How 'bout you??<br />
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OK, chicken-wingers. This is wrong on so many levels, I don't know where to start. What happened to good' ole sprinkles, fruit, chocolate/caramel, nuts, marshmallows.....even freakin' gummy bears?<br />
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Every shred of common sense says 'Don't eat this....it's unnatural!'<br />
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<i>I scream,<b> </b></i><i style="font-weight: bold;">'Nothing good can come of this food combination'. </i>It's the baconization of America!<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b><br />
Consider yourself warned.<br />
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Food purity love to all.<br />
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<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-41797568379811337232012-04-19T12:40:00.000-05:002012-04-19T12:40:21.698-05:00paws and effectWhen I'm working in the yard, Roxy-Doxy (a.k.a. 'rockhound') definitely has her own agenda.<strong> </strong>Her agenda does NOT involve <em><strong>helping me</strong></em> with the chores.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5zG3MTkPNy_GQo897L4xnZoSK5hjhBsuAxCmNkJQnk28OP7ziVvcInaTiru2EJsgL_TA76K0foeph0soC-gAMthmfBaiGw1iGfy0o4fqNIks0QC2DwtGHodlYgz2qLokHDY3zUANRd8/s1600/025a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5zG3MTkPNy_GQo897L4xnZoSK5hjhBsuAxCmNkJQnk28OP7ziVvcInaTiru2EJsgL_TA76K0foeph0soC-gAMthmfBaiGw1iGfy0o4fqNIks0QC2DwtGHodlYgz2qLokHDY3zUANRd8/s400/025a.jpg" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See?! She's found the<strong> perfect</strong> stone! Isn't this thrilling? <em>****yawn****whaterthechances??</em><br />
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</td></tr>
</tbody></table>As I dutifully unload my car of potting soil and plants, the Doxy has another plan for my day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8R2qyrx4GmIc0gH52ewKarc3FZ-SPyATxWRpkeHpIXTYLngfsdgBPMQHTMNQxvb3rE99gpCqDxacQDhmkU57GJDnm61IJXK9ZCno0q64eidLHsnuLUSkdPx7KsLpILQS-jr2T433tLpc/s1600/032a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8R2qyrx4GmIc0gH52ewKarc3FZ-SPyATxWRpkeHpIXTYLngfsdgBPMQHTMNQxvb3rE99gpCqDxacQDhmkU57GJDnm61IJXK9ZCno0q64eidLHsnuLUSkdPx7KsLpILQS-jr2T433tLpc/s400/032a.jpg" width="276px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah Roxy-Doxy.... I see your<strong> perfect</strong> rock. Nice.<em> ****sigh****</em>Rock=the cause</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOwA8AcYfYRTTf2ChcL8IdBzglx4cUK4krpjneQrPLxwpcltZOvkxqPp6qOSZGYPB4DqOidR1I2UyC6SB76jP7m3mJIXfdBdOFWJk7qsLdKhn5C4L5XHi2mVmepeVGp_3mx90Nj0uPP4/s1600/035a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOwA8AcYfYRTTf2ChcL8IdBzglx4cUK4krpjneQrPLxwpcltZOvkxqPp6qOSZGYPB4DqOidR1I2UyC6SB76jP7m3mJIXfdBdOFWJk7qsLdKhn5C4L5XHi2mVmepeVGp_3mx90Nj0uPP4/s400/035a.jpg" width="266px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You're gettin' mighty close to the edge with that rock, wiener....don't drop it!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTeyzq_bMd9OvYMSM60DCKWmppbHi6ccwHb8JJMYgIp4fn9mzDZhRm6geB2TQA0wi33KdOmpkLGuMgbo1Z0KBT0mishZhxxTWaYxpYwoy3x5wnWEHFKiepdVMDhSZR8IOwEC7vF8C19uE/s1600/036a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTeyzq_bMd9OvYMSM60DCKWmppbHi6ccwHb8JJMYgIp4fn9mzDZhRm6geB2TQA0wi33KdOmpkLGuMgbo1Z0KBT0mishZhxxTWaYxpYwoy3x5wnWEHFKiepdVMDhSZR8IOwEC7vF8C19uE/s320/036a.jpg" width="213px" /></a></div>Doxy....it's gonna fa.....<em> Uh-oh.</em> </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZo_IAYt6T7GZz4Eulyvb0na9CyXxxRgmwC6ZbGfAXuOfz9jXztsymMlqPnSy3XtfyAvcUTNXfE6zdBe2Zz13uefIBzNIpvnxwxmPHayh3WocSV-zO_2zJSKz3KOgd8CWUjEWYpw9ynI/s1600/037a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZo_IAYt6T7GZz4Eulyvb0na9CyXxxRgmwC6ZbGfAXuOfz9jXztsymMlqPnSy3XtfyAvcUTNXfE6zdBe2Zz13uefIBzNIpvnxwxmPHayh3WocSV-zO_2zJSKz3KOgd8CWUjEWYpw9ynI/s400/037a.jpg" width="266px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The effect.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9I194T5aR4FlaFbZVtU3CVM1scqCeySTP2aRXXGTvmPdqjwJZMQ1P3VB4bHyKl4MAFOVKqZHYt1sSNrh0V1sTJvuXMA6RDqgIbNLQUOvfQqsDsva7isw8d73-LoIo-nYhv4uJaeOfNCI/s1600/042a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9I194T5aR4FlaFbZVtU3CVM1scqCeySTP2aRXXGTvmPdqjwJZMQ1P3VB4bHyKl4MAFOVKqZHYt1sSNrh0V1sTJvuXMA6RDqgIbNLQUOvfQqsDsva7isw8d73-LoIo-nYhv4uJaeOfNCI/s640/042a.jpg" width="426px" /></a></div>The ultimate effect.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Pick up rock, throw rock into the bushes and repeat. The rock-drop never loses it's appeal.<strong><em> Ne-ver.</em></strong><br />
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<em>You can imagine how much I am getting done.....</em><br />
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Spring love to all.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-89247092938124826662012-04-12T15:01:00.000-05:002012-04-12T15:01:44.012-05:00dramaWhat a busy week this has been! Wanted to share one of my most <strong>fun</strong> moments with you. I was asked to sing and do a little program for the NUFFS (<strong>no one under fifty-five</strong>) over at First Presbyterian Church. The Texan and I attended that fine church for many years, so it was kinda old home week for me.<br />
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Got to visit with Amarillo<strong><em> Man of theYear....Eddie M!</em></strong><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcZ4YQuJQ9mrD1K189L4negTOdGdFKyu4W5y0b2AAu0FhOAa8FcVjPrSptPeqojHSRWgPXRlprQkAubUZwn0kSzRiOYZdZFDUBt3-TDtL9T2Hl-HrAZ_46MajWJBK3aod2vFDw0EYBJ0/s1600/broadway+002a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="295px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcZ4YQuJQ9mrD1K189L4negTOdGdFKyu4W5y0b2AAu0FhOAa8FcVjPrSptPeqojHSRWgPXRlprQkAubUZwn0kSzRiOYZdZFDUBt3-TDtL9T2Hl-HrAZ_46MajWJBK3aod2vFDw0EYBJ0/s400/broadway+002a.jpg" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eddie told me of BIG plans for his upcoming 100th this July! I'll be there, Eddie.<br />
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</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>The show for the NUFFS was a kind of Broadway <em>revue</em>...complete with quick costume changes and very bad wigs. I definitely play for the 'fun factor'.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz16z0J8ktQmj3vPGrkNh6jm4tfR95MCYz4DcCeuUqZEQ8iVqCPMVvNJSul6Q9xDQMPO38dNV-ffpx0xkN8WhkH5mWRQmtyoGBArlVeH51tOvGLAHy60yl9ayyWckxnvdO7qHpwnnConk/s1600/broadway+003b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz16z0J8ktQmj3vPGrkNh6jm4tfR95MCYz4DcCeuUqZEQ8iVqCPMVvNJSul6Q9xDQMPO38dNV-ffpx0xkN8WhkH5mWRQmtyoGBArlVeH51tOvGLAHy60yl9ayyWckxnvdO7qHpwnnConk/s400/broadway+003b.jpg" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I told the NUFFS absolutely<strong> NO NUDITY</strong>, so I left my clothes on for <em>All That Jazz.</em><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> My stage was in their gorgeous parlor.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2Vmj7_v_mEnHHaeJMY4NmNNbf66H-70LIX0qM9kPjc5jP6Fo-ySyjndx-7rpbcXfLl09qJ6bhDXVP4ussGqrW64IwQRG6msxcGF8nRIzPF-g0XmfXzbVUY1uRTfT1h71srvLMET9xl4/s1600/broadway+005a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2Vmj7_v_mEnHHaeJMY4NmNNbf66H-70LIX0qM9kPjc5jP6Fo-ySyjndx-7rpbcXfLl09qJ6bhDXVP4ussGqrW64IwQRG6msxcGF8nRIzPF-g0XmfXzbVUY1uRTfT1h71srvLMET9xl4/s400/broadway+005a.jpg" width="250px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always keepin' it classy with my redition of<em> Memories</em> from <strong><em>CATS.</em></strong> The flea-bitten old feline was remembering when she was a beautiful, young, and less-lumpy cat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nTw6F2VmVu3eXMQ_Re2_H5tPmKHWUnLLSAiK9RONtZFHy-_UotxRid0TjUiO6clx-WAKvqOwPJ5mDUKDg7sKU6e1z0dhvTQHVq9RRUTEiXTKz0IoI_G949UGpExXSY8aZkwgbSG8onU/s1600/broadway+006a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nTw6F2VmVu3eXMQ_Re2_H5tPmKHWUnLLSAiK9RONtZFHy-_UotxRid0TjUiO6clx-WAKvqOwPJ5mDUKDg7sKU6e1z0dhvTQHVq9RRUTEiXTKz0IoI_G949UGpExXSY8aZkwgbSG8onU/s400/broadway+006a.jpg" width="346px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Channeling my inner Ethel Merman in <em>Everything's Comin' Up Roses.</em> The song is from<strong><em> Gypsy</em></strong>...about a stripper, but I STILL kept my clothes on. You're welcome.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxA_fCECYKkbEf0mrsb3ZYH3bMnyWrwRXGpFGiH9Eu5BvOPCAOlkKBQaLrssBQbXD0mvpkGmau6IG8p0XjXMCtLNPWIqa0zAV7CsDx2_WxLebuy7YWWc3OExmLKQWHcUK1O65_tFM6-QU/s1600/broadway+007a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxA_fCECYKkbEf0mrsb3ZYH3bMnyWrwRXGpFGiH9Eu5BvOPCAOlkKBQaLrssBQbXD0mvpkGmau6IG8p0XjXMCtLNPWIqa0zAV7CsDx2_WxLebuy7YWWc3OExmLKQWHcUK1O65_tFM6-QU/s400/broadway+007a.jpg" width="276px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This bleached blonde floozy was trying to figure out how to love<em> Him</em>, from <strong><em>Jesus Christ Superstar.</em></strong><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yjB8xXlqo3hi3aFPiqdoDhy2iF1exY4i4cSddFws858RIZm4RNJAWfBo2Bq5qwumJlF5pv4PLDEjJUgqHmwoggL8fX_a_goPtYDbhp8eUpMnvjx7HGGoBVful7Tj85qehCroMLIQSvs/s1600/broadway+009a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yjB8xXlqo3hi3aFPiqdoDhy2iF1exY4i4cSddFws858RIZm4RNJAWfBo2Bq5qwumJlF5pv4PLDEjJUgqHmwoggL8fX_a_goPtYDbhp8eUpMnvjx7HGGoBVful7Tj85qehCroMLIQSvs/s400/broadway+009a.jpg" width="242px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup, you guessed it smarty pants! Everyone's favorite Cockney, Eliza Doolittle.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMgda5lBwBJauqgQSZ9iA25iiFZISx6jfi96TSzGJdTLIfczfzRlV1MtIvo2Z2oQZMvo7FFopeNpXhUOWFujDOyLf3jzvP5NncNIk12-qVmTsL1xR3yP5JitFhuco1YyFM-guSNfLnYNU/s1600/broadway+011a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMgda5lBwBJauqgQSZ9iA25iiFZISx6jfi96TSzGJdTLIfczfzRlV1MtIvo2Z2oQZMvo7FFopeNpXhUOWFujDOyLf3jzvP5NncNIk12-qVmTsL1xR3yP5JitFhuco1YyFM-guSNfLnYNU/s400/broadway+011a.jpg" width="277px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old Fantine dreaming a dream. Is there an owl or something makin' a home in that wig??</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLGbbKtHxUtH3BszUFsaSG3UmP0UOhhu0LCjaQ4ntDNvkjvvjCK6GRuM1zrhUVJV4dmeaoIebN5rx9iQ0AWx51s5TJr0N2nZxbsUdRvVzd4YXbeYSYBQRLljupVMuX2JB0_cfcuOyyT4/s1600/broadway+013a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLGbbKtHxUtH3BszUFsaSG3UmP0UOhhu0LCjaQ4ntDNvkjvvjCK6GRuM1zrhUVJV4dmeaoIebN5rx9iQ0AWx51s5TJr0N2nZxbsUdRvVzd4YXbeYSYBQRLljupVMuX2JB0_cfcuOyyT4/s400/broadway+013a.jpg" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just when life KILLS Fantine's dream, she yanks off the<em> shawl/bad wig</em> and underneath it all she's really <strong><em>ANNIE</em></strong> belting out how everything will be great <strong><em>Tomorrow!</em></strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>The above photo shows the fantastic accompianist who helped me...Miss Sara. She was my rock! Brava, Sara!<br />
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After my part of the program was done, I got to learn about fire safety.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQFSPqCsfB1gYJ3xmRurCnhFCOx_T_bIbErujf9fLfistolkVNaA6bV6hEfhGkGWhJJxJ1tX751GtvbKjAPU3-RX_ddMcSxVqndTc2Q_TINQl6sI6M9BTAA10vf5bNWTdHlW8xy88SQ1A/s1600/001a.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="380px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQFSPqCsfB1gYJ3xmRurCnhFCOx_T_bIbErujf9fLfistolkVNaA6bV6hEfhGkGWhJJxJ1tX751GtvbKjAPU3-RX_ddMcSxVqndTc2Q_TINQl6sI6M9BTAA10vf5bNWTdHlW8xy88SQ1A/s400/001a.JPG" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why, oh why did I not take a picture of the hot firefighter? My bad.<br />
<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I learned basically that old folks are screwed if there's a fire, cuz we're all too feeble to get up out of our wheelchairs and run out of the house. We're deaf and can't hear the smoke alarm. Hell, we can't even <em>stop, drop, and roll!</em> Most of us are tethered to an oxygen machine anyway, so we're gonna die or explode. Lesson learned, Mr. Hot Firefighter.<br />
<br />
Really....he was <strong>very</strong> nice and said we could call him for<em> anything. Anything?. ..hmmmmmmm</em><br />
<br />
Thank-you NUFFS for being an appreciative audience. I had a great time being with all of you.<br />
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<em><strong>NUFF</strong>-y</em> love to all!Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-38726902702087515492012-03-22T21:14:00.002-05:002012-03-22T21:25:29.010-05:00Ready, Set, GOpera!I'm not an opera aficionado. Don't know a<em><strong> libretto</strong></em> from a <strong><em>library card</em></strong>. I think a<strong><em> cadenza</em></strong> is something my grandmother stored her Sunday china in. No idea what <strong><em>toi, toi, toi</em></strong> means....is it the number three spoken in Latin or the sound of spitting to keep evil spirits at bay? <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIlAbEO3GSBpUkDYvTHb8QPDEhBE0SNu4FoB8GcSBQR-VrXN7xpID3eCk8IxlMtbFeMnnP139hflLfYBGX_r5l8P2-XNs-wMRA2__woI6bvv8UtIPDRLpFt062MZ5Fw25rp5F3eLa4OIc/s1600/la+perichole+005a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIlAbEO3GSBpUkDYvTHb8QPDEhBE0SNu4FoB8GcSBQR-VrXN7xpID3eCk8IxlMtbFeMnnP139hflLfYBGX_r5l8P2-XNs-wMRA2__woI6bvv8UtIPDRLpFt062MZ5Fw25rp5F3eLa4OIc/s400/la+perichole+005a.jpg" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The gorgeous set of Amarillo Opera's<strong><em> La Perichole</em></strong><br />
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</tbody></table>Even though I don't know much about opera, I'm positive there are lots of reasons to like Amarillo Opera's production of<strong><em> La Perichole.</em></strong><br />
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You see, I attended a picnic on the stage and was treated to some sneak peeks of the upcoming performance.<br />
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I enjoy the fact this opera will be sung in my native tongue <strike>Oklahoma Hillbilly</strike> English. Therefore, I can understand perfectly what this gentleman is singing about.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_JNQnVnmL04vGh5Ok3b_JMiv626MfJNgOxiDXmy7iT85cnjDJh4RwAA9IhiqkA743dWgdW7ZVtz8u3exf4cBcDjhsRvAU80ednxGeDqarVWYmcuAccd_gfVhJzgpEEHreDz3tF2UFh5U/s1600/la+perichole+021a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="390px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_JNQnVnmL04vGh5Ok3b_JMiv626MfJNgOxiDXmy7iT85cnjDJh4RwAA9IhiqkA743dWgdW7ZVtz8u3exf4cBcDjhsRvAU80ednxGeDqarVWYmcuAccd_gfVhJzgpEEHreDz3tF2UFh5U/s400/la+perichole+021a.jpg" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He is singing about women being<strong> goddesses</strong>. Who am I to disagree??</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I enjoy the fact this show is clever and it makes me laugh.<em> I like to laugh.</em><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVc5qPM1XMaZ1QPDCUpHkNkoAVCoGZiAbcRPpqkDm_o8kjDaAAnE3oN7EIJ3bTpALgk90gMW3stxqUmWpThFd45oZSaCgybqsjIuEAXI7qTsOPCORcguB9DYmKQ4lOmw2InxwN84HPiI/s1600/la+perichole+028a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVc5qPM1XMaZ1QPDCUpHkNkoAVCoGZiAbcRPpqkDm_o8kjDaAAnE3oN7EIJ3bTpALgk90gMW3stxqUmWpThFd45oZSaCgybqsjIuEAXI7qTsOPCORcguB9DYmKQ4lOmw2InxwN84HPiI/s400/la+perichole+028a.jpg" width="266px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our heroine...Perichole<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkx97iYgrq0RlWdDUQn87lnOuNOly4_WjOzTK2vAyv3URNSmghPCm7wYjPpVgaTdPRM1_nNc4sjEjecQUF57NEc-ZtiGVphhX8LFpavxpFrDV4PZO14KY1KIrYKsQ1J9gWl-k_V8Lh0Y/s1600/la+perichole+029a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="303px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkx97iYgrq0RlWdDUQn87lnOuNOly4_WjOzTK2vAyv3URNSmghPCm7wYjPpVgaTdPRM1_nNc4sjEjecQUF57NEc-ZtiGVphhX8LFpavxpFrDV4PZO14KY1KIrYKsQ1J9gWl-k_V8Lh0Y/s320/la+perichole+029a.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>Isn't she beautiful? She's singing a song about how men are generally<strong> dull and thick-skulled</strong>. Who am I to disagree??<br />
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</tbody></table>I enjoy hearing gorgeous voices and supporting the arts in our humble town. We are fantastically blessed to have outstanding talent grace the stage in our glorious Globe News Center. The acoustics are sublime, so please silence your cellphone.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpGLyPdRAulTat5AXEvvacClz7hBzYhaCiiFZI51NNTJOVdlxNYQwFPzka7gZkCXyU9d5xGXdoIYq3wFK4VIysV_IA5hQ1cCn0Me5TkI8OUWXTuZ816Wtp6nuKqTrZi20A0r3wWCAUqRI/s1600/la+perichole+032a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpGLyPdRAulTat5AXEvvacClz7hBzYhaCiiFZI51NNTJOVdlxNYQwFPzka7gZkCXyU9d5xGXdoIYq3wFK4VIysV_IA5hQ1cCn0Me5TkI8OUWXTuZ816Wtp6nuKqTrZi20A0r3wWCAUqRI/s400/la+perichole+032a.jpg" width="233px" /></a></div>The director described this opera as a fluffy, tasty bit of meringue. Now<span style="font-size: large;"> pies</span>....that's something I<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> understand</span>. Remember these?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQknZHPaXOEg5hp3Mh8Ud33WU1x8b7-QMOuwsWODWxrR_KHGmTvPHV1WmZMcQhyiUEphHe9LWiPpHVvYNKs_jeBW050F5130q7ktCktrDLYGlp2bF4qNZSpg9FS9a-IuKAh_k_Gk6Pli0/s1600/pie+013a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="265px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQknZHPaXOEg5hp3Mh8Ud33WU1x8b7-QMOuwsWODWxrR_KHGmTvPHV1WmZMcQhyiUEphHe9LWiPpHVvYNKs_jeBW050F5130q7ktCktrDLYGlp2bF4qNZSpg9FS9a-IuKAh_k_Gk6Pli0/s400/pie+013a.jpg" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ever seen such gorgeous meringue?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I <em>understand </em>meringue and I<strong> LOVE</strong> it! Not sure I've ever had it at an opera before, but I'm ready.<br />
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Another thing about this show that excites me....some lucky locals are in the production. Gives me some hometown faces to <strong>bravo</strong> about.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMMtq-DNz3f7ZwoSc27ebGhEAsEFO-oWAJ37MVlKjsyp7F3mudzeG8dDn3cWyEZSuwA_Y388ZpyUxd-9MBn5sthvTTrIBe-zc8_Rw24LI0fl9XHHfjUZkyRgu7gPbOITnq_e8Hg13gm4s/s1600/la+perichole+040a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMMtq-DNz3f7ZwoSc27ebGhEAsEFO-oWAJ37MVlKjsyp7F3mudzeG8dDn3cWyEZSuwA_Y388ZpyUxd-9MBn5sthvTTrIBe-zc8_Rw24LI0fl9XHHfjUZkyRgu7gPbOITnq_e8Hg13gm4s/s400/la+perichole+040a.jpg" width="281px" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Michael and he is<strong> over the moon</strong> about being in the opera, even though he plays the role of a prisoner. I'm happy for him and can't wait to spot him onstage.<br />
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</tbody></table>Although I don't count myself among the opera<em> 'educated'</em>, I'm still attending La Perichole next weekend.<span style="font-size: large;"> It</span> <span style="font-size: large;">looks too fun to miss.</span> <br />
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If you feel like coming....don't be shy! Call <a href="http://www.amarilloopera.org/">AMARILLO OPERA</a> for tickets to the show Saturday, March 31 or Sunday, April 1. There won't be a quiz about opera terms or etiquette or anything like that.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Wait, wait</em>.....seems I spoke too soon about the quiz. </span><br />
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<em>What on earth are you doing, Roxy-Doxy?!</em><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzzyUOWW2ddm7QQHROR5ubyxWZsUnp91FLIHU3ekJOI3OiORHwbxry-WicafeVj5Emdqo5Q563Ajf5EAKsqLa082Ek0HW6cFS_MO7K1Ym9r695bSC7AdwYHxQnUnWJi3kRI0vzU9FhpxA/s1600/2010-09-26+Doxy+blog+21a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzzyUOWW2ddm7QQHROR5ubyxWZsUnp91FLIHU3ekJOI3OiORHwbxry-WicafeVj5Emdqo5Q563Ajf5EAKsqLa082Ek0HW6cFS_MO7K1Ym9r695bSC7AdwYHxQnUnWJi3kRI0vzU9FhpxA/s400/2010-09-26+Doxy+blog+21a.jpg" width="396px" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;">**Doxy breathless in a run-on sentence**</span><em>I auditioned for the part of Perichole, but David O'Dell says I might be better cast as <strong>Madame Butterfly</strong> next season...do you realize it's pronounced <strong>pear-uh-kole</strong> NOT <strong>pear-uh-CHOLE</strong>?...do you know the term o<strong>pera buffa</strong> refers to all the hot, buffed-up men in the cast?...do you understand the term <strong>contralto</strong> refers to......</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">No opera quizzes. Just fun. <strong>Promise.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Buffed-up opera love to all.</span>Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-2346248299489189742012-03-20T21:56:00.000-05:002012-03-20T21:56:35.069-05:00news<span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>So much news....so little time.</em></span><br />
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Made the drive to the Dallas area to visit Sprout #3 and play a little golf with the Texan. I was struck by the increased greening of the countryside as we drove further southeast. Praise God Texas is getting some rain! We've had some good rains in central Texas and we're beginning to see (maybe?) the loosening grip of the devilish drought. <br />
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No spring-time trip in Texas is complete without the obligatory photo of the<strong> bluebonnets</strong>. The Sprout and Texan coaxed me out of the car to pose in this field of road-side wildflowers. As I knelt down to get close to bursting blooms for the photo, I<em> THOUGHT</em> I heard the Sprout yelling,<em> 'Be sexy!'</em> Therefore, I obediently laid on my side and gave the Texan my best sexy pout for the camera-phone. When I returned to the car, the disgusted Sprout explained he was shouting, '<strong>DON'T</strong> be sexy!'<br />
Oops.<br />
Must have been the noise of traffic whizzing by....or old age. Can't. help. myself.<br />
I thought you'd enjoy seeing my blue photo.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIe-EJMF-ksvII_RJy7Di0K581C7Amk3O19A5Nnn1cR8LdcTrCqweuvY5uCfUEcy_xdCWN5mfrLkk47Yk12lAXqJiY8s22BJRu1buk5N_n94CLaDlYSsj7MGQJBpIGr9ASFOJ1MTwtCVw/s1600/kathyinbluebonnetsa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="221px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIe-EJMF-ksvII_RJy7Di0K581C7Amk3O19A5Nnn1cR8LdcTrCqweuvY5uCfUEcy_xdCWN5mfrLkk47Yk12lAXqJiY8s22BJRu1buk5N_n94CLaDlYSsj7MGQJBpIGr9ASFOJ1MTwtCVw/s400/kathyinbluebonnetsa.jpg" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kinda looks like Grandma forgot to take her Miralax</td></tr>
</tbody></table> While were were in Big D, the grandson attended his first NCAA March Madness basketball game in Albuquerque, New Mexico. He saw his Mom's alma mater, Baylor, beat Colorado. Sic 'em Bears!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6pKZ31tJx88MMSfO38cQR-FVWVKbZNl03QFnT6S7vg1zF4zS4qVQvteqJCxKzJcp2ALCCHqk4AY1Sr9T6W5MY4CVZMjHPxQhXOLWB8lpuwgB5cNRLXdc_dsJ_Pessbv3CihcUju_GXk/s1600/20120317_183316a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6pKZ31tJx88MMSfO38cQR-FVWVKbZNl03QFnT6S7vg1zF4zS4qVQvteqJCxKzJcp2ALCCHqk4AY1Sr9T6W5MY4CVZMjHPxQhXOLWB8lpuwgB5cNRLXdc_dsJ_Pessbv3CihcUju_GXk/s400/20120317_183316a.jpg" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His KK got him the Baylor T-Shirt<br />
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</tbody></table>Maybe next year he can fill out his bracket<strong> IF</strong> he has the cash.<br />
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Driving back to Amarillo, we stopped at a cool trailer place. You see, I've been without horse-wheels for a while now. It's complicated, but I sold my truck and trailer years ago and relied on my horse trainer to haul my horse to shows for me. He moved downstate and I was left with horses, but no way to haul them. The Texan helped me solve this dilemma. I can borrow his red truck and pull this sweet little number down the road.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8GE_7D-gEwXJ6cwmYTdAmyt63NvKtH5OXWUy80K1rPBmCGeVZkY83EOyjJRm3ctzuSW4LdfgoOp5jwgZooa7sqp-q0c0p4yr_jFZJPyV3Rl7nIYSJv0Kq2CjP_wfRaI_GqqFgCFX9G_o/s1600/20120319_100452-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="247px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8GE_7D-gEwXJ6cwmYTdAmyt63NvKtH5OXWUy80K1rPBmCGeVZkY83EOyjJRm3ctzuSW4LdfgoOp5jwgZooa7sqp-q0c0p4yr_jFZJPyV3Rl7nIYSJv0Kq2CjP_wfRaI_GqqFgCFX9G_o/s400/20120319_100452-1.jpg" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happiness</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Thank you, Texan. xoxo<br />
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Now....for the most splendiforous news. Steady yourself. Really.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong>Ta-dah-dah-------dah-DAH!</strong></span><br />
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Sprout #3 (first in our hearts!) asked darling J to marry him!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZxpWH3nCZn1kbcdD9ROUwbj2UgUeIEPlx9V8QR1tVb0fBTW2fp8yGTV_Ps8zRlSdbzyj2n3CkHKIeoiQgOLia5AtG2Z157q7mIVsvYk_NB_KC0mQYRtgbRQV__b0CUBtDjEtyQ_OIlzU/s1600/Cabo+114a+Andrew+&+Jennifer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="428px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZxpWH3nCZn1kbcdD9ROUwbj2UgUeIEPlx9V8QR1tVb0fBTW2fp8yGTV_Ps8zRlSdbzyj2n3CkHKIeoiQgOLia5AtG2Z157q7mIVsvYk_NB_KC0mQYRtgbRQV__b0CUBtDjEtyQ_OIlzU/s640/Cabo+114a+Andrew+&+Jennifer.jpg" width="640px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The handsome couple in Cabo last year</td></tr>
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We think it's the smartest thing he's ever done. We<span style="font-size: large;"><strong> ADORE</strong></span> her. We're giddy with excitement for these two extraordinary young people. Guess that means there's gonna be a wedding! Fun times. We feel profoundly blessed.<br />
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Thanks for sharing all this news with me, kind reader. I couldn't wait to tell you this stuff!<br />
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<em>Bluebonnet-y</em> love to all.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476266628356245162.post-28864075767399135482012-03-09T21:01:00.000-06:002012-03-09T21:01:49.945-06:00mimicry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><em>We have a problem on our hands.</em><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7qE6kODnipgsLV_xfgTEzU6jt5MiQ3F9LFUMwZxE5CiwY8-czjy3dIfZJUS2DaBXbP84SWub98Z6P1xjltNsSmBYiyGmVeJN86aMbbkyKu2zf2HPFiCeETi0UM6AgK05zK0vlymiNpo/s1600/graham+003a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7qE6kODnipgsLV_xfgTEzU6jt5MiQ3F9LFUMwZxE5CiwY8-czjy3dIfZJUS2DaBXbP84SWub98Z6P1xjltNsSmBYiyGmVeJN86aMbbkyKu2zf2HPFiCeETi0UM6AgK05zK0vlymiNpo/s320/graham+003a.jpg" width="320px" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> It's hard to explain, so I'll just show you.<br />
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<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8lXCKEld7-VIuOBnBtxFKyRWiTv6DFDZuqqpiUNsm_L56hZ0ct6HCUtEGpNDWPM7p1ORzGz89IeTCAKUMkul2ozmu8jAipAvQ5jzh2_2LhbeJ8wrQ6iqnQBTR5WsTN0KxuSzIn9C_ytU/s1600/graham+010a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8lXCKEld7-VIuOBnBtxFKyRWiTv6DFDZuqqpiUNsm_L56hZ0ct6HCUtEGpNDWPM7p1ORzGz89IeTCAKUMkul2ozmu8jAipAvQ5jzh2_2LhbeJ8wrQ6iqnQBTR5WsTN0KxuSzIn9C_ytU/s400/graham+010a.jpg" width="266px" yda="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The grandson enjoying his bouncy chair.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4M-fWDrZabejla20heifWdZhj-k0D-a8lBfBAggSh-cpXalaAF3N8HoL9mNjGl2HC9wsmRect7vCdEcCudO699MmGWXjR1xvOXP9MzuWYK_126zKaORju9zShBWRPGwZ1R_miFKZVGbY/s1600/sophiechair1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4M-fWDrZabejla20heifWdZhj-k0D-a8lBfBAggSh-cpXalaAF3N8HoL9mNjGl2HC9wsmRect7vCdEcCudO699MmGWXjR1xvOXP9MzuWYK_126zKaORju9zShBWRPGwZ1R_miFKZVGbY/s400/sophiechair1.jpg" width="300px" yda="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What the??.....someone appeared in the bouncy chair doing the 'bichon wave'. Notice she strapped herself in for safety.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuzqHM6X9iV1bCiI4m14Uk_LR0w4KeXHJXEpAJCaIgtCmCT9nHaAbnwOH-5j6f8KZA4xAyy3_c46a5dx-q9ElaV-wGCZUgOTqSdOCo70S3FlTi2qOBoq9Eq9LxNiC4tpSf8c7zWp9zc4/s1600/grahamjohnnyjumpup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuzqHM6X9iV1bCiI4m14Uk_LR0w4KeXHJXEpAJCaIgtCmCT9nHaAbnwOH-5j6f8KZA4xAyy3_c46a5dx-q9ElaV-wGCZUgOTqSdOCo70S3FlTi2qOBoq9Eq9LxNiC4tpSf8c7zWp9zc4/s400/grahamjohnnyjumpup.jpg" width="305px" yda="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The baby experiencing his first try in the jumper.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibrUO8udGAFmKqEXyiCG-scfmz3PdB6TO_8IezW3W4Wy-e5BzQa42Pcv-mu-dKvlEYu1lB5Al7qcyDtHpzxCBxcMB_a0kxXAzs60KtfQUPv_FARxXaP1QdLGSl9vJovuoWNtIwKEkC0dg/s1600/sophjohnnyjumpupa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibrUO8udGAFmKqEXyiCG-scfmz3PdB6TO_8IezW3W4Wy-e5BzQa42Pcv-mu-dKvlEYu1lB5Al7qcyDtHpzxCBxcMB_a0kxXAzs60KtfQUPv_FARxXaP1QdLGSl9vJovuoWNtIwKEkC0dg/s640/sophjohnnyjumpupa.jpg" width="448px" yda="true" /></a></div>Really Sophie??! How did you get in there? </td></tr>
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The waving <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bee-shawn Free-say</span> is totally outta control.<br />
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Can her behavior be an extreme case of animal mimicry? Just like this clever owl?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtCgle66TOkvNBe0M5ilQ8Tn3kK4g0YUVsxfq9istN_JO6Lu8C5nbPCB8b9RfnAwYiodbfWqVgYkcHUDIjbYgUcQmGBlApjPx3q7jUvuZ0pHVXll_dBheKAs6-VR_5Sloz_EjDKqb5Qg8/s1600/owl.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtCgle66TOkvNBe0M5ilQ8Tn3kK4g0YUVsxfq9istN_JO6Lu8C5nbPCB8b9RfnAwYiodbfWqVgYkcHUDIjbYgUcQmGBlApjPx3q7jUvuZ0pHVXll_dBheKAs6-VR_5Sloz_EjDKqb5Qg8/s400/owl.png" width="400px" yda="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you see him? I didn't snap this photo BTW.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> Don't tell the Sprout I found Soph swaddled in the crib with the pacifier. <em>Come to think of it....was her barking episode telling me of her preference for pureed lamb?</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Send. help. now.</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Love to all.</span><br />
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</div>Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847080788199771395noreply@blogger.com2