<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710</id><updated>2011-09-11T03:27:00.843-07:00</updated><category term='Photos'/><category term='Me'/><category term='Mukilteo'/><category term='Recipe'/><category term='Life'/><category term='Diet'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='Mileage'/><category term='Curtis'/><category term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>4952 Me to You</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>61</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-4174678540109898180</id><published>2010-12-14T15:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T15:03:31.548-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Fave Christmas Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Today is the first day I have actually stopped and listened to these lyrics ... sums up exactly the way I'm feeling.&amp;nbsp; Thank you Jesus!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Relient K - I Celebrate the Day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with this Christmas wish is missed &lt;br /&gt;The point I could convey &lt;br /&gt;If only I could find the words to say to let You know how much You've touched my life &lt;br /&gt;Because here is where You're finding me, in the exact same place as New Year's eve &lt;br /&gt;And from a lack of my persistency &lt;br /&gt;We're less than half as close as I want to be &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the first time &lt;br /&gt;That You opened Your eyes did You realize that You would be my Savior &lt;br /&gt;And the first breath that left Your lips &lt;br /&gt;Did You know that it would change this world forever &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so this Christmas I'll compare the things I felt in prior years &lt;br /&gt;To what this midnight made so clear &lt;br /&gt;That You have come to meet me here &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To look back and think that &lt;br /&gt;This baby would one day save me &lt;br /&gt;In the hope that what You did &lt;br /&gt;That you were born so I might live &lt;br /&gt;To look back and think that &lt;br /&gt;This baby would one day save me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I, I celebrate the day &lt;br /&gt;That You were born to die &lt;br /&gt;So I could one day pray for You to save my life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-4174678540109898180?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/4174678540109898180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=4174678540109898180' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4174678540109898180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4174678540109898180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2010/12/new-fave-christmas-song.html' title='New Fave Christmas Song'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-2110153767214818987</id><published>2010-11-09T22:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T22:06:57.279-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Passion</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/TEXj9WSLuyI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/4xTk05vERe8/s1600/IMG_4665.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/TEXj9WSLuyI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/4xTk05vERe8/s320/IMG_4665.jpg" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's amazing how such an insignificant thing has become such an  important part of my life ... a plant!&amp;nbsp; Anybody who knows me well, knows  my passion for my garden - I absolutely love being outdoors in all  kinds of weather - weeding, pruning, planting, etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twenty  seven year ago, my parents returned from their first vacation alone ...  a week away in Jersey, which is part of the British Channel Islands. My  Dad was smitten by this plant which grew in many gardens on the island  and as a souvenir, he returned home with a packet of seeds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He  grew them, babied and nursed them, eventually planting them outside in  the sunniest and most protected spot in his garden.&amp;nbsp; He'd cover them up  on frosty nights and fret and worry over them when the spring arrived -  wondering if they'd survived the harsh winter.&amp;nbsp; I remember commenting  during that first spring that it just looked like an ugly ivy, climbing  up the wall - but I didn't realize what an absolutely fabulous  tropical-looking blossom this plant had hidden away for me - especially  in a cold and blustery East Yorkshire garden!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless  to say, 'that bloody plant' (my most recent name for it) is now growing  rampant all over the side of the brick-built garage in the garden - now  my Mum's garden.&amp;nbsp; It doesn't need any special care or attention at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When  my Dad passed away, my sister, Sindee, gave me a seed pod from a plant  my Dad had given to her.&amp;nbsp; So, I smuggled it stateside in my suitcase -  shhhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten years ago, I started the seeds on my  windowsill ... nursed them ... babied them ... heck! I even talked to  them!!&amp;nbsp; I dug the plant up when we moved house - it sat beside me in my  van, along with other precious cargo which couldn't go into the moving  truck.&amp;nbsp; I waited patiently for the blooms - and waited - and waited -  and waited ... &lt;b&gt;TEN YEARS!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This photo is of its  very first bloom - ever!&amp;nbsp; I came across it this summer - and the plant  bloomed all summer long!&amp;nbsp; I can now consider myself as officially having  a green thumb! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm soooo sentimental about this  plant - its a memory of my Dad, my childhood memories of&amp;nbsp; 'helping' him  in the garden and memories of a different life I once had.&amp;nbsp; Sadly, I  have memories of my sister who has chosen not to be in my life anymore&lt;b&gt; ...&lt;/b&gt; plus, it's been the challenge of forcing 'that bloody plant' to bloom.&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/b&gt;(I  think that the trick was to cut down the 3 spruce trees blocking the  sun from its roots - pretty drastic, I know, but it worked :)&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a biblical story to this plant also - the  plant's name is Passion Flower -and a monastic scholar recognized every  part of the plant which correspond to Jesus and the Crucifixion - the  story is best explained on this website: &lt;a href="http://www.passiflora-uk.co.uk/passion-flower-story.shtm"&gt;www.passiflora-uk.co.uk/passion-flower-story.shtm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If  any of my local friends would like to try to grow one of these vines,  just let me know and I can bless/curse you with a seed pod of your very  own!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-2110153767214818987?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/2110153767214818987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=2110153767214818987' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/2110153767214818987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/2110153767214818987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2010/11/passion.html' title='Passion'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/TEXj9WSLuyI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/4xTk05vERe8/s72-c/IMG_4665.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-6691689630889933845</id><published>2010-07-07T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T10:26:02.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PMS? ... no, PAG!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I heard a song on the radio.  I've heard it many times before but I usually just tune it out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason?  Its by Amy Grant.  I just don't like her songs.  Never have done.  Too middle of the road or something like that for my taste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, she has this new-ish song called "Better than a Hallelujah" - its the usual kind of sound for Ms. Grant, so for months I've not paid attention to it ... until yesterday.  You see, I heard a line of the song when I was washing dishes - and, well, it literally turned me into a crumpled mess ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The line is - "We pour out of miseries, God just hears a melody"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, the whole of the chorus touches me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pour out our miseries&lt;br /&gt;God just hears a melody&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful the mess we are&lt;br /&gt;The honest cries of breaking hearts&lt;br /&gt;Are better than a Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I instantly got the picture - God rejoicing and dancing for happiness as we put our trust in him and open our hearts and bare our souls to Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song came on the radio again during dinner with my husband and my daughter.  The lyrics of the whole song are very sweet.  I was trying to explain how it touched me ... and then it came out all garbled and squeaky as I was choking back the tears!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter, who recently saw the Miley Cyrus movie asked if I had PMS - apparently there's a joke in the movie where a little boy thinks PMS means Pissed at Men Syndrome (and I do think that there's &lt;i&gt;some&lt;/i&gt; truth to that, but that's for another day) ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I answered her question ... No, I'm just Pissed at Amy Grant!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-6691689630889933845?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/6691689630889933845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=6691689630889933845' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6691689630889933845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6691689630889933845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2010/07/pms-no-pag.html' title='PMS? ... no, PAG!'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-4668133254118780322</id><published>2010-01-05T15:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T15:45:48.961-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Checking the Visa Statement</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was my paperwork day - urgh!  I hate catching up on all the bill paying and such like after the Holidays.  I'm a procrastinator and I'd put off paying many bills until the kids went back to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With it being Christmas, we had several Amazon purchases and Paypal items.  I'd noticed one item I didn't recognize on the Visa Statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm ... I thought - had somebody gotten a hold of our visa number?  Had Craig bought me something '&lt;i&gt;special&lt;/i&gt;' and forgotten to give me it?  I wondered and wondered about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, last night, I asked Craig to go through our Paypal account online.  As I said, there were several Paypal purchases.  We went down the list.  The final one was from the vendor in question ... the Visa statement said "FILLYOURBRA" - so you understand where my curiosity was coming from!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vendor was actually "FILL YOUR BRAIN" - I imagine that you can only have so many characters on the statement!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I laughed so hard that I cried!  Craig didn't get the joke, so I handed him the Visa statement.  When I explained that it had been on my mind all afternoon, he got the giggles too!  Then he went into the garage to show me my 'gift' ... it was just a book about tiling!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-4668133254118780322?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/4668133254118780322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=4668133254118780322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4668133254118780322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4668133254118780322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2010/01/checking-visa-statement.html' title='Checking the Visa Statement'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-9213580970101343822</id><published>2009-11-12T12:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T12:46:17.485-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Fave Salad</title><content type='html'>Golden Raisin Smoked Turkey Salad (from Essential Diabetes Cookbook by Pamela Rice Hahn a.k.a. my other "Bible")is a winner!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way the golden raisins and smoked turkey combination sweeten the rich and creamy sauce ... the crunchy texture of the broccoli and cauliflower ... a hint of onion ... the tang of vinegar ... Mmmm Mmm :) Plus, I get to add leavy greens = Heaven!  (said with just a hint of sarcasm)  When I want to feel FULL, then this is what I eat.  It's really good, give it a try:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 cups chopped broccoli&lt;br /&gt;2 cups chopped cauliflower&lt;br /&gt;3 shallots, chopped (I use green onions, or red onion, chopped really small)&lt;br /&gt;1 1/3 cups golden raisins (or craisins)&lt;br /&gt;1 cup 1 percent cottage cheese&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup Hellmanns/Best Foods Mayo&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup firm silken tofu&lt;br /&gt;3 tablespoons tarragon vinegar (I just add a pinch of dried tarragon to 3 T white wine vinegar)&lt;br /&gt;1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup (or less) brown sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/4 pound smoked turkey breast, chopped (good, flavoursome deli smoked turkey breast - just ask them to slice you a good 1/2 inch sized steak)&lt;br /&gt;Freshly ground pepper&lt;br /&gt;4 cups salad greens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Combine broccoli, cauliflower and shallots in a large bowl and stir in raisins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In blender/food processor, mix cottage cheese, mayo, tofu, vinegars, brown sugar and pepper until smooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toss the dressing over the broccoli mixture.  Add turkey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Season with pepper.  Chill until ready to serve, over salad greens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes great leftovers and sandwiches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What to do with the rest of the silken tofu, I hear you asking???  Make more of this salad!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, take 1 cup unsweetened soy milk, 1/2 cup silken tofu, blend, heat in microwave until hot.  Add a Starbucks Via sachet or a teaspoon of vanilla, cocoa, or just drink it plain - hot, sweet and frothy!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-9213580970101343822?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/9213580970101343822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=9213580970101343822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/9213580970101343822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/9213580970101343822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-new-fave-salad.html' title='My New Fave Salad'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-4165486531734010443</id><published>2009-10-22T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T08:37:24.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nightly Reading</title><content type='html'>I have several books I read in bed at night.  I have quite the collection of little books on hand.  They simply quieten my heart and allow me to count my blessings and feel peaceful.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I came across this little gem ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Take my life, and let it be&lt;br /&gt;Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take my moments and my days;&lt;br /&gt;Let them flow in ceaseless praise.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Frances Ridley Havergal)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately upon reading this poem, I identified the words with a worship song.  I could hear my friends beautiful voice singing those words.  (She really does have the voice of an angel).  &lt;b&gt;AND&lt;/b&gt; I was still hearing her voice this morning as I got the kids ready for school!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I simply wanted to share this poem with you today and hope the words touch you as they have me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a YouTube video of the song performed by Chris Tomlin:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rEzbwcMG9Gc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rEzbwcMG9Gc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-4165486531734010443?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/4165486531734010443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=4165486531734010443' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4165486531734010443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4165486531734010443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/10/nightly-reading.html' title='Nightly Reading'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-6927723641532554514</id><published>2009-09-09T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T08:45:08.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Overwhelmed by Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKRmii1vI/AAAAAAAAAMA/k2zFiGhOark/s1600-h/DSCN4161.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKRmii1vI/AAAAAAAAAMA/k2zFiGhOark/s320/DSCN4161.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379490683669370610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKRPpJiAI/AAAAAAAAAL4/C7drNZFjsYQ/s1600-h/DSCN4144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKRPpJiAI/AAAAAAAAAL4/C7drNZFjsYQ/s320/DSCN4144.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379490677523056642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKQsTWTyI/AAAAAAAAALw/uy7qbgqddHg/s1600-h/DSCN4004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKQsTWTyI/AAAAAAAAALw/uy7qbgqddHg/s320/DSCN4004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379490668036378402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKP-AIb7I/AAAAAAAAALo/_ZBhkEM-pEc/s1600-h/DSCN3999.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKP-AIb7I/AAAAAAAAALo/_ZBhkEM-pEc/s320/DSCN3999.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379490655607746482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKPUEtN1I/AAAAAAAAALg/0pHoiT-0n3k/s1600-h/DSCN3968.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKPUEtN1I/AAAAAAAAALg/0pHoiT-0n3k/s320/DSCN3968.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379490644352644946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent days and days viewing my summer pics - there are so many good ones, thanks to Cadence!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll begin at the start of summer, when my Mum (Muriel) was staying with us.  We visited Vancouver Island and Buchart Gardens.  This was at the end of June.  I felt that the Gardens weren't really at their peak.  Another month, and they'd be fantastic.  I'm not one for lots of pretty annual flowers - planted en-mass.  But I enjoyed the landscaping, architectural structures and watching people from all over the world:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a girls day out - Craig had planned a fun day for himself and Curtis - a zipline adventure!  Of course, there are no pics of them, but they had a blast!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-6927723641532554514?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/6927723641532554514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=6927723641532554514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6927723641532554514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6927723641532554514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/09/overwhelmed-by-photos.html' title='Overwhelmed by Photos'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SqfKRmii1vI/AAAAAAAAAMA/k2zFiGhOark/s72-c/DSCN4161.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-2663893910785596112</id><published>2009-09-02T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T08:23:42.498-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipe'/><title type='text'>Off they go to school - with a good breakfast inside of them</title><content type='html'>Well, I've just waived off Cadence for her first day of school.  She's a "big girl" now!  Eighth Grader (top of the school) ... next year, HIGH SCHOOL!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curtis was picked up by a friend and they went to Starbucks for breakfast earlier.  He's a "BIG BOY" now - Senior (top of his school)... next year, COLLEGE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curtis is now working at Arnies, here in Mukilteo.  He's busing tables.  We are banned from the place (by him).  He knows us too well!  He knows we'd heckle him:)  He's really looking forward to getting paid on Friday :)  He has the money spent already, as he needs a new (well second hand) bass amp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, last night after dinner, Cadence asks me if I made Sconuts for breakfast in the morning.  It is a ritual now.  I make them every year just before school starts, so that the kids have some quick breakfasts in store just in case they sleep in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I get out all the "in-greedy-a-ments" and get to work.  Curtis walked through the door after his shift at work, "Mmmmmm Sconuts"?  So he had one for his supper:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is that they're so yummy and delicious that they get gobbled up within this first week of school, I make another batch ... and another ... and then the kids get sick of them!  I sometimes add chopped apples, bananas or cranberries, nuts, flax meal - whatever I have to change them up a little.  They freeze really well, and they are made in the food processor, so they're super easy - which is why I make them:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the recipe:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 c old-fashioned oats&lt;br /&gt;2 c all-purpose flour&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c brown sugar&lt;br /&gt;2 1/2 tsp baking powder&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp baking soda&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp salt&lt;br /&gt;1/4 tsp ground nutmeg&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c butter, cut up&lt;br /&gt;3/4 c buttermilk&lt;br /&gt;1 large egg&lt;br /&gt;cinnamon sugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oven temp 425 deg F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In food processor combine sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and nutmeg.  Pulse to blend.  Add butter, pulse until coarse crumbs form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In cup, beat buttermilk and egg.  With processor running add egg mixture and pulse until a dough forms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scoop dough by 1/4 cups (well rounded heap on a serving spoon) onto cookie sheet.  The mounds should be 2 1/2 inches high and round.  Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar and bake 15-17 minutes or until golden on bottoms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you get the opportunity to make these and try them out on your family too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-2663893910785596112?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/2663893910785596112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=2663893910785596112' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/2663893910785596112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/2663893910785596112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/09/off-they-go-to-school-with-good.html' title='Off they go to school - with a good breakfast inside of them'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-5552487202848270912</id><published>2009-08-14T18:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T19:30:16.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to School Shopping</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:arial;" &gt;I've taken a couple of months off from this blogging malarkey - and now I hope I'm back.  Having the kids around during the summer months keeps me away from the computer, or, at least, having to share it with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:arial;" &gt;I'm still enjoying my summer and looking forward to the weather warming up again in the next few days.  I hope to get to tell you some summer stories and share some photos of Summer 2009 over the coming months.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:arial;" &gt;Today, we've been back to school shopping.  This inspired me to search for a poem I wrote a couple of years ago.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:arial;" &gt;We were shopping today for school supplies ... and ...  erm ... underwear!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:arial;" &gt;Our church has just kicked off its annual Back to School supply drive called "Backpacks and Boxers".  We gather together backpacks and school supplies along with new socks and underwear and donate them all to a local charity called Clothes for Kids in the city of Lynnwood.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:arial;" &gt;The kids and I enjoy shopping for back to school items every August ... and I always feel so very blessed to be able to buy my own kids school items and new clothes.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:arial;" &gt;I think this poem was birthed out of the kids and me laughing at silly cartoon character underwear in one of the stores ... it got quite out of hand and the result is a not very politically correct poem, which would struggle to make it to print anyplace else ... but on my blog :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:arial;" &gt;Enjoy, and it feels good to be back!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smalls, tighty-whiteys, boxers, underwear&lt;br /&gt;All for the kids – let’s show them we care&lt;br /&gt;Bikinis, boy-leg, high-cut, but NOT thongs&lt;br /&gt;Buying those as a church outreach would be wrong!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little bums, big bums, it don’t matter&lt;br /&gt;Pick some large if you wish for the bums that are fatter&lt;br /&gt;Buy a pack of each size to cover your bases&lt;br /&gt;Think about the kids as you’re shopping at Macys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They’re on sale today, for return to school&lt;br /&gt;Buy boxes and boxes – now THAT would be cool&lt;br /&gt;Flower prints, power rangers to name but two,&lt;br /&gt;Buy one, buy all – its really up to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching out to families, locally, in need&lt;br /&gt;It’s what we do here, so please take heed&lt;br /&gt;Clothes for Kids will receive our briefs&lt;br /&gt;If we don’t do this, we could see kids wearing … leafs?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-5552487202848270912?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/5552487202848270912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=5552487202848270912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/5552487202848270912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/5552487202848270912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/08/back-to-school-shopping.html' title='Back to School Shopping'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-1065097322969836924</id><published>2009-06-12T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T23:35:42.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking a deep breath ...</title><content type='html'>The next 4 weeks are going to be FUN - and we're looking forward to it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent this evening at the outlet mall.  Naturally, we visited Starbucks, but by mistake I ordered regular coffee instead of decaf, so I'm going to be wide awake for quite some time ... here's how the first half of our summer looks ... on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;caffeine&lt;/span&gt; ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;TidyHouseFiddleClubByeCraigHelloMum(Tears)KidsOutOfSchoolHelloCraigHello&lt;br /&gt;PortlandByeMegSeeYou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;InAFewHelloVancouverIslandHelloBrotherJonHelloSisIn&lt;br /&gt;LawKarenHelloShep&lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;GetDownShep&lt;/span&gt;!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;LetsDoSomeSightseeingByeVancouverIsland&lt;br /&gt;AndFamilyButNotMumHelloMegIMissedYouHAPPY&lt;/span&gt;4TH!Charley&amp;amp;Laura's?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;??&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lets&lt;br /&gt;DoMoreSightseeing&lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;andshopping&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;LetsGoHereLetsGoThereLetsDoThisLetsDoThat&lt;br /&gt;I'mToo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;HotSkagitFiddleCompetitionCurtisbecomesACitizenPARTYIHOPE&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ByeMum&lt;br /&gt;LoveYou&lt;/span&gt;(Tears)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What?&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ItsTheEndofJulyAlready&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK ... well, I'm going to go off and do something productive with my late night, like ironing and paperwork, possibly sort out the spare room ...  Everybody has gone off to bed - even the dog!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-1065097322969836924?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/1065097322969836924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=1065097322969836924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1065097322969836924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1065097322969836924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/06/taking-deep-breath.html' title='Taking a deep breath ...'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-8641940144394161912</id><published>2009-05-07T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T09:13:56.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cadence's Flute Recital</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-6f1bf445a8c1bc49" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6f1bf445a8c1bc49%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331542652%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D58B98FFD0058AF634114361F3D91F90AFAA0E127.6B197BA82F9B9B5A5561BAC6AEA0C43C74CBD50E%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6f1bf445a8c1bc49%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DvHNnQpGxhb5TkgKH9sqDkX5MJzc&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6f1bf445a8c1bc49%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331542652%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D58B98FFD0058AF634114361F3D91F90AFAA0E127.6B197BA82F9B9B5A5561BAC6AEA0C43C74CBD50E%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6f1bf445a8c1bc49%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DvHNnQpGxhb5TkgKH9sqDkX5MJzc&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;Cadence began taking flute lessons 3 years ago, through the Gene Nastri School here in Mukilteo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit that I am living a part of my life through my kids!  When I was her age, I got to "try out" for the flute at school - there was only one flute available (buying your own flute in those days was simply not an option).  Several girls competed for this flute - whoever got a note out of it got to learn.  Needless to say, I didn't get the instrument - I got the double-bass instead!!!  I don't know how somebody decides - Lisa's crap at the flute - let's give her the biggest string instrument we can find - she'll do much better with that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, Cadence is coming to a turning point in her flute playing days.  She doesn't want to take part in school band again in 8th grade and doesn't want to entertain the idea of joining the Everett Youth Symphony orchestra (option B).  She really enjoys her private lessons and the music she plays with her teacher (Kristie Wiant) ... we're not sure what's next for her musical career, but she says she'd be happy just taking lessons from Kristie for a while ... so, we will do that and wait and see what High School brings along in a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's made some major progress this year with her breathing and 'embouchure' and she's sounding great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she has spent many times trying to teach me how to make a sound on the flute - after all these years - I still can't do it :(  I'll stick to my only musical outlet - very rusty piano playing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-8641940144394161912?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=6f1bf445a8c1bc49&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/8641940144394161912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=8641940144394161912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8641940144394161912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8641940144394161912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/05/cadences-flute-recital.html' title='Cadence&apos;s Flute Recital'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-8005418160603277680</id><published>2009-05-06T08:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T14:23:58.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One of the best kept secrets in Lynnwood ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SgGxpoa5zcI/AAAAAAAAALI/eOmBEMBMc3I/s1600-h/orangeLogo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 167px; height: 99px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SgGxpoa5zcI/AAAAAAAAALI/eOmBEMBMc3I/s320/orangeLogo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332738762566389186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The name of the church I attend is The Rock Church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(This sentence is such a weak description of my feelings  - its more than "the church I attend" but for now, it will have to do).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can find their website&lt;a href="http://www.therockfamily.org/app/"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.therockfamily.org/app/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  You can listen to past sermons, become a fan on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; and read the church's blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt; this church!  It has been so many things to me over the ... almost 10 years(!) I've been attending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the place where I came to accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour. This is where I received acceptance - not judgement - for simply being me. This is where I went to grieve and ultimately began to heal. This is where I am planted and growing. I feel like I can be myself here and I am accepted - warts and all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody recently described The Rock Church as "one of the best kept secrets in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lynnwood&lt;/span&gt;" - and I whole-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;heartedly&lt;/span&gt; agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Helping people discover a growing relationship with Jesus Christ" and "a church for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;unchurched&lt;/span&gt;" are the philosophies of this place.  Its a safe place to come and find out more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, when I say "Church" what do you picture in your mind? An old brick building?, tall spires?, stained glass windows?, that old fusty smell perhaps?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Biblical term for church is not the building - its the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PEOPLE&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is how our church is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We meet in the great hall of a high school. Everything needed for Sunday mornings is stored in a huge trailer ... and stored off-site ... and trucked in every Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say I love my church, it is the people I love. We've pulled together when times got rough, we've prayed for families when their babies were dedicated, cried for joy when friends were baptized, supported families during their troubles and laughed at each other's misfortunes and mistakes ... We are a friendly bunch, big on get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;togethers&lt;/span&gt; and Life Groups (Bible Study groups), genuinely interested in people and doing life together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've dedicated time and money to important non-profit organizations in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lynnwood&lt;/span&gt; area, national disaster relief and overseas and loved upon and welcomed new people, young and old who have walked through its doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have needs or are curious about the whole Church thing, you are welcome to come and check us out! No strings attached - honestly. Come grab a coffee, even pick up a welcome gift, and experience a unique Sunday morning. Please, don't wait for an invitation to come from me - if you read my blog (and you live in the greater Seattle area) - this is your personal invitation from me - just show up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wear your fave pair of jeans - no need to dress up - unless you want to :) Coffee will be good and hot and the music will be LOUD. 10 am start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to meeting you there sometime soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know who I am, just listen for the dulcet tones of a Yorkshire accent - and you'll have found me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, next Sunday is Mother's Day - there's a special morning celebrating Mums starting at 9.30am - all I can say is that it will be "YUMMY".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-8005418160603277680?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/8005418160603277680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=8005418160603277680' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8005418160603277680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8005418160603277680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-of-best-kept-secrets-in-lynnwood.html' title='One of the best kept secrets in Lynnwood ...'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SgGxpoa5zcI/AAAAAAAAALI/eOmBEMBMc3I/s72-c/orangeLogo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-7920229682623027821</id><published>2009-05-03T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T19:08:42.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Patience Strong</title><content type='html'>I'm a big fan of a little known English poet from the 1940's and 1950's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up reading my Mum's "Women's Realm" magazines.  Each week, they'd feature a poem by Patience Strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know much about her, but I have always enjoyed the simpleness of her poetry and her faith in God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Muriel's (my Mum's) birthday.  So in honour of your birthday, Mum, here's a poem which, funnily enough is found in a daily poetry book I own ... for tomorrow, May 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Someone is Thinking of You" by Patience Strong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone remembers - and somebody cares.&lt;br /&gt;Your name is mentioned in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;somebody's&lt;/span&gt; prayers ...&lt;br /&gt;Keep the bright hope of the future in view.&lt;br /&gt;Someone is thinking of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I love you, Mum.  I'm so proud of you.  I still hate being 4952.32 miles away on our special days.  Take care of yourself, keep dancing, keep happy, keep healthy ... we're counting down the days!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-7920229682623027821?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/7920229682623027821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=7920229682623027821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7920229682623027821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7920229682623027821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/05/patience-strong.html' title='Patience Strong'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-8015804404306725188</id><published>2009-04-29T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T12:24:32.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Stop Believing ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SfiShg0r6uI/AAAAAAAAAK4/UoC6QeUeYmQ/s1600-h/journey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 205px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SfiShg0r6uI/AAAAAAAAAK4/UoC6QeUeYmQ/s320/journey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330171263437236962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have this song stuck in my head today, thanks to a new TV show being advertised ... Glee.  Anyways, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ip1zsUIosoA"&gt;Don't Stop Believing by Journey&lt;/a&gt; is the song - and I can't stop humming and singing it - and its driving me slightly nutty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does have a very special place in my heart though ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It takes me back - waaaay back!  It reminds me of Star of the West Pub, meeting Craig, falling in love... ah... those were the days... not a care in the world... I was young ... too young!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song was always the last song played by the DJ at Star of the West at "Last Orders at the bar now please, Lads and Lasses" on a weekend - the whole pub would sing along - the DJ would turn down the music to hear us singing!  Corny really!  A pub full of merry folks, singing their hearts out, the DJ turning the volume off and swearing at us for bumping into his "gear" with our dancing and scratching the vinyl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember chatting to Craig many times before I realized that there was "something there" to this song.  I remember my girlfriends and I singing our heads off, laughing, dancing and fooling around to this song.  I remember being stuck in the long line for the ladies loo - all the ladies singing and doing the "potty dance" in line to this song!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a classic song of the 80's.  There are probably a gazillion memories conjured up by this song ... what's yours?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-8015804404306725188?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/8015804404306725188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=8015804404306725188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8015804404306725188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8015804404306725188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/04/dont-stop-believing.html' title='Don&apos;t Stop Believing ...'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SfiShg0r6uI/AAAAAAAAAK4/UoC6QeUeYmQ/s72-c/journey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-5368300156836761094</id><published>2009-04-11T20:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T20:42:32.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Have yourself a merry LITTLE Easter ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SeFjCjsbmnI/AAAAAAAAAKw/mDNqgfEkJtE/s1600-h/EASTER09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SeFjCjsbmnI/AAAAAAAAAKw/mDNqgfEkJtE/s320/EASTER09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323645130121124466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... just like Curtis!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-5368300156836761094?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/5368300156836761094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=5368300156836761094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/5368300156836761094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/5368300156836761094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/04/have-yourself-merry-little-easter.html' title='Have yourself a merry LITTLE Easter ...'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SeFjCjsbmnI/AAAAAAAAAKw/mDNqgfEkJtE/s72-c/EASTER09.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-7116655918732714000</id><published>2009-04-03T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T20:46:00.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lynnwood Food Bank</title><content type='html'>Tonight, 6 of us from The Rock Church stood outside the local Safeway Grocery Store for 90 minutes. Although it was sunny and warm in the sun, we were in the shade. My toes were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; cold!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to Paulette, Maddy, Carmen, Dante (our secret weapon - he's so stinking cute - folks couldn't refuse him:) and Cadence, our work produced:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 boxes cereal&lt;br /&gt;4 boxes oatmeal&lt;br /&gt;6 lb can of Hominy&lt;br /&gt;30 Top &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ramen&lt;/span&gt; noodles&lt;br /&gt;2 bags pasta&lt;br /&gt;8 boxes mac &amp;amp; cheese&lt;br /&gt;9 cans veg&lt;br /&gt;3 cans fruit&lt;br /&gt;2 cans &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;chili&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 bags lentils&lt;br /&gt;2 jars grape jelly&lt;br /&gt;3 jars peanut butter&lt;br /&gt;15 cans soup&lt;br /&gt;4 cans tuna&lt;br /&gt;4 boxes baby cereal&lt;br /&gt;4 packs kids juice&lt;br /&gt;35 jars baby food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and .......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$120.48 in cold hard ca$h!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that looks like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SdbWA3wBkWI/AAAAAAAAAKg/q6AYJ-2RLAk/s1600-h/IMG_7588.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SdbWA3wBkWI/AAAAAAAAAKg/q6AYJ-2RLAk/s320/IMG_7588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320675320238543202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SdbWBaoA2LI/AAAAAAAAAKo/7MRZkWAzvWY/s1600-h/IMG_7597.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SdbWBaoA2LI/AAAAAAAAAKo/7MRZkWAzvWY/s320/IMG_7597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320675329600182450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ever feel inspired to do this - it is so rewarding - and restores your faith in humanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-7116655918732714000?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/7116655918732714000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=7116655918732714000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7116655918732714000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7116655918732714000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/04/lynnwood-food-bank.html' title='Lynnwood Food Bank'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SdbWA3wBkWI/AAAAAAAAAKg/q6AYJ-2RLAk/s72-c/IMG_7588.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-3057548592957488680</id><published>2009-03-26T10:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T11:02:47.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fasting Week Summary</title><content type='html'>Its taken me 10 days to process how my week of fasting went - here's my (lengthy) summary:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I survived my week of not using the computer (sort of).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hit hit a few bumps in the road, but overall, it was a pretty productive week for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Monday&lt;/span&gt; - dilemma - Cadey forgot her homework.  By the time of the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3rd phone call&lt;/span&gt;, she'd enlisted the assistance of her teacher! I had told her no. (I'm a tough mummy - but I do recall the email from teacher on Friday and I also remember reminding her on Sunday ...) I had been out all Sunday afternoon, so she had time to get organized ... instead, she'd sat and watched all her TV shows and not even bothered to clean up her mess in the kitchen after 'snack-making' for herself and her Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence's teacher called me - explaining that if I didn't email in her work, then my daughter would receive a zero credit for all her work done - I felt like I was being bribed by her teacher!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadey had explained that I was 'fasting' from the computer - teacher must think I'm a little Wacko, but I don't really care about that. I care more about my daughter growing up to be a responsible adult and learning to accept the consequences of not being prepared ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I do ...? You guessed it, I caved in and emailed the work (poo!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tuesday&lt;/span&gt; - This was a very productive day for me spiritually. I'm reading The Power of Praying Through the Bible by Stormie Omartian. We're reading it in our Small Group too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hit upon a chapter titled "How can I be Holy?" and the chapter referred to Psalm 29 v 11 ... The Lord gives strength to his people, The Lord blesses his people with peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow! This spoke volumes to me! And it totally floored me as I began my prayer time - I was repeating the words over and over, feeling the strength - physical, emotional and spiritual which we gain from Jesus, which helps us gain hope, which in turn we see as a blessing, which ultimately leads to peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I meditated upon this, the more my heart became aware of the calming spirit within me. I pictured certain people and their specific needs ... and my heart felt calmed - I felt Jesus literally taking these requests and noting them down on his "to-do" list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a very moving time for me - I felt empathy for the people I know (and love) who are going through personal pain and turmoil ...  and I felt Jesus' acknowledgement of their pain to me. I am overwhelmed by the peace I've felt and so I want to pass this message of His strength-giving-power and ultimate peace to the people I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wednesday&lt;/span&gt; - Doctors visit - I have carpal tunnel syndrome - and now I have 2 very unattractive black wrist braces to wear &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;AT ALL TIMES&lt;/span&gt; - yeah right!  I can't do a thing when I'm wearing them!  Also, wearing them makes my wrists feel worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a Tetanus shot too - I was fine on Wednesday, felt crap all day on Thursday (even went to bed around 7.30pm - not like me) still felt unwell on Friday, Saturday, Sunday ... but soldiered on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Craig and I also managed to find the time to watch Shawshank Redemption - now I know why folks rave about this movie - and yes - I need to watch it again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; - I had to visit my doc again for a fasting (food) blood-draw.  I don't do well without breakfast immediately upon waking. I've always been like that - I can't shower, dress, or get ready before I eat, because otherwise I feel like I'm going to pass out! So, having to get up, get Cadey ready for school, drive, arrive at the docs to get blood drawn - all on an empty stomach - makes me cranky and a little light-headed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt; - still not feeling up to par, so I stayed home and worked around the house. My bible study today was "Praying for those who have hurt you" - I am not one to bear grudges. I like to think of myself as down to earth and level-headed. I think I've caught this from Craig - or have I just grown up ...? Anyways, I'm much more mellow these days - life is simply just too short to bear grudges! Of course, I have past hurts and things which I can't do anything about - except to "get over it". Easier said than done! But I'm working on that thing called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;forgiveness &lt;/span&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the weekend as I was reflecting upon my week and my achievements (and still no computer) - volunteering my time, blessing a family with a meal, managing to make time to connect with my Mum, chores all up to date, dogs toenails trimmed (THAT takes some doing with a squirmy dog like Meg). I felt that I'd drawn closer to what fulfills my life - all thanks to Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't had time to connect with many people, partly because of not feeling well for a few days. I think I just have to make that a priority in my life ... coffee, anyone ...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After church on Sunday, there was a knock at our front door. Standing there was this neighbour guy (Fred) who'd spent a couple of mornings loading up his truck with free wood from our yard. He had a HUGE gift basket - full of treats for us - even doggy treats! He wanted to show his appreciation for the wood - I was so touched by this - a blessing! We're saving most of the treats for the first warm day of Spring ... (if it ever arrives) and we're going to enjoy a picnic at the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the subject of Craig's fasting ... I'm sick of drinking Red Tea (Rooibos)! I have kind of become Craig's evening caffeine-free fasting partner. He has another week to go - he decided to fast for a month, not until Easter as I'd previously written. He's drinking a lot of the rooibos because its caffeine free and is full of antioxidants and he can take it with milk. (Its been so cold lately and he needed something more than water, especially since I don't buy juice or soda - Food Nazi thing again). I must admit that I usually do enjoy this tea too, but I've simply had too much of it as of late - I'm sitting here typing and sipping on a big mug of British Blend - sweet, malty, Mmm Mmm delicious!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-3057548592957488680?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/3057548592957488680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=3057548592957488680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3057548592957488680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3057548592957488680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/03/fasting-week-summary.html' title='Fasting Week Summary'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-5920105564875356150</id><published>2009-03-06T11:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T11:34:51.882-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SbF6qlyh5PI/AAAAAAAAAKI/BVChZzhgYIc/s1600-h/fasting1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 148px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SbF6qlyh5PI/AAAAAAAAAKI/BVChZzhgYIc/s200/fasting1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310160307763668210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As a church, we've been called to a time of fasting and prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fasting, in my understanding has always meant going without FOOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;AND I AM NOT GOING TO DO THAT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent the past year-and-a-half going without the foods I once loved in order to balance my blood sugar. Plus, I don't think that would be a healthy thing for me to do - my diet is already restricted - and I doubt my doctor would recommend this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going deeper into the thinking of "going without", I came up with several other ideas:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;housework - we could get a maid for a week&lt;br /&gt;gardening - we could get a gardener for a week&lt;br /&gt;laundry - the maid can do that&lt;br /&gt;cooking meals - maid too, but she'd have to do the whole low carb, low fat, low sodium deal - and cope with interference from a certain "Food-Nazi"&lt;br /&gt;Meg - send her to doggy-day-care&lt;br /&gt;family - hmmm ... who'd take my kids?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, as I prayerfully considered these (and some more personal) options, a light bulb went off in my head - &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THE INTERNET!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Pastor Scott's &lt;a href="http://rockcollege.org/classicjesus_1_03012009.mp3"&gt;sermon message last Sunday&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(click highlighted text to listen) &lt;/span&gt;he challenged the church to enter a season of giving something up. I think he worded it as "Give up something which potentially causes a distraction from talking with God".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reasoning behind this is that we (The Rock Church) face an immense task ahead of us, which is to reach out to the people of Lynnwood and move the church forward. We need to become stronger and deeply rooted in our own faith in order to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've fasted once before, but that was as a family. We abstained from television and computers for a week. We (Craig and I) thought about doing this again, but felt like this time, we need to make a more personal sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Craig has already given up his tea (a hard one for him), coffee (he doesn't really drink coffee anyways), hot chocolate and the occasional beer until Easter! I wonder what (and if) the kids will be giving up ...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to tie-up my loose ends - paying bills and answering long overdue email. I am excited about this as I spend too much of my day on the Internet, Facebooking, sending emails, "window-shopping", reading BBC news, my &lt;a href="http://www.thisishullandeastriding.co.uk/news"&gt;Hometown news&lt;/a&gt; and Google-ing insignificant questions which pop into my mind. It sucks me in to its virtual world, instead of getting out into the big wide world and making a difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll be going off-line for one week, starting Monday, March 9th.  I am excited about making new connections with people over this coming week, but, more importantly, making a connection and the time to be with God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-5920105564875356150?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/5920105564875356150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=5920105564875356150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/5920105564875356150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/5920105564875356150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/03/growing.html' title='Growing ...'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SbF6qlyh5PI/AAAAAAAAAKI/BVChZzhgYIc/s72-c/fasting1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-55088553801910503</id><published>2009-03-05T09:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T15:56:23.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I obviously have too much time on my hands ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-9d150fdee7ca7965" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D9d150fdee7ca7965%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331542652%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6CE79193B9DC444A7C5D79C124E83360EAD8919F.893CF7F1DCD6F0952FB9C8B24BA7E6C4204FF9B%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D9d150fdee7ca7965%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDFNngg1lgcbyFn9SaRd_27T9CAI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D9d150fdee7ca7965%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331542652%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6CE79193B9DC444A7C5D79C124E83360EAD8919F.893CF7F1DCD6F0952FB9C8B24BA7E6C4204FF9B%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D9d150fdee7ca7965%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDFNngg1lgcbyFn9SaRd_27T9CAI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt; ... to teach my dog these tricks (she's not the sharpest tool in the shed).  It has taken a year to teach her to play dead!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I didn't realize it at the time, but Curtis has his 'home accent' going on too :)  Recorded for one and all to enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-55088553801910503?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/55088553801910503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=55088553801910503' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/55088553801910503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/55088553801910503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-obviously-have-too-much-time-on-my.html' title='I obviously have too much time on my hands ...'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-8335313927941890513</id><published>2009-02-28T19:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T20:21:33.475-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Timber"!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SaoK28q8KDI/AAAAAAAAAJw/MzBnOSX29eo/s1600-h/IMG_7104.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SaoK28q8KDI/AAAAAAAAAJw/MzBnOSX29eo/s400/IMG_7104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308067049924995122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to get some trees cut down from our property this year.  We fell in love with this property, partly because of the trees, so it was with mixed emotions that we had to agree that the trees had to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Cedar was causing so much damage to our driveway with its roots that we need to replace the driveway and possibly the concrete parking pad.  (Its a good thing this particular tree was felled - the trunk we discovered, was diseased and had a hole right down its middle - so we saved ourselves or our neighbours a disaster).  It turns out that I had good reasons to sleep downstairs on stormy nights!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Cedar had a split trunk - with 5 skinny trunks all waiting to get blown down onto our home.  Two Pines were pushing up a neighbor's private roadway with their roots, needles dropping and clogging their drains.  We had a beautiful California Redwood growing 12 feet from our family room window - and we all know how big they grow! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a total of 10 trees felled!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years, Craig has removed 6 or so smaller, more manageable trees.  We've grumbled about pine needles getting tracked into the house on shoes and the dog, the yellow dusty pollen on the pines which sticks to our windows, cars and deck every spring, tree sap on shoes, on the dog - I'm sure you all can relate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, they've gone - I'd like to say "good riddance" but I am tinged with sadness - well, just a little.  We now lack what little privacy we once had.  Oh well, I can replant - I'm looking online - alpine trees, evergreen hedges - stuff which will be easier to maintain.  I'm eager to get replanting and I think I have an idea of what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any landscaping advice would be GREATLY appreciated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'll definitely sleep sounder on stormy nights!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-8335313927941890513?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/8335313927941890513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=8335313927941890513' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8335313927941890513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8335313927941890513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/02/timber.html' title='&quot;Timber&quot;!'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SaoK28q8KDI/AAAAAAAAAJw/MzBnOSX29eo/s72-c/IMG_7104.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-7827873859121262591</id><published>2009-02-16T13:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T13:59:42.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentines Walk around Greenlake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SZnhfX4DU9I/AAAAAAAAAJg/A9FHrndiNDs/s1600-h/IMG_6488.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SZnhfX4DU9I/AAAAAAAAAJg/A9FHrndiNDs/s320/IMG_6488.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303517965306778578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SZnhfJuvA3I/AAAAAAAAAJY/RLcQYlrMfsI/s1600-h/IMG_6421.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SZnhfJuvA3I/AAAAAAAAAJY/RLcQYlrMfsI/s320/IMG_6421.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303517961509602162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SZnhe8C9AXI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/0oFVJLF3uwA/s1600-h/IMG_6426.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SZnhe8C9AXI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/0oFVJLF3uwA/s320/IMG_6426.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303517957836308850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-7827873859121262591?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/7827873859121262591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=7827873859121262591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7827873859121262591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7827873859121262591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-walk-around-greenlake.html' title='Valentines Walk around Greenlake'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SZnhfX4DU9I/AAAAAAAAAJg/A9FHrndiNDs/s72-c/IMG_6488.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-4997774060805909381</id><published>2009-02-12T09:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T11:21:59.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Funny Valentine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SZRZX8nkLAI/AAAAAAAAAJI/_6--bzIfzFI/s1600-h/starofxo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 131px; height: 175px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SZRZX8nkLAI/AAAAAAAAAJI/_6--bzIfzFI/s320/starofxo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301960929265855490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I first met Craig on February 16&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; 1985 - such a long time ago, literally a world away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met, thanks to my brother Jon.  It was a Saturday lunchtime.  We met in town (downtown) at a pub called "Star of the West".  Its not there anymore - the city demolished it to make room for ... a parking lot!  It was a really old, really dark, musty, fusty pub  - probably Victorian if not older - lots of character and history!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already knew some of my brother's friends, but there was this new guy at the end - fit ... curly, almost red-haired ... fit ... and jolly ... fit ... he was different, (he must workout?) ... I remember thinking, but nothing more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What sticks in my mind from that first meeting was his humour (he told a really cute funny joke), his new shoes (still in the box) and his authenticity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the joke:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A baby polar bear asks his mother ''Mommy, am I 100% polar bear?'' The mother looks up in thought, and replies ''Well, your father is 100% polar bear, and I'm 100% polar bear, so I'd say yes, you're 100% polar bear.''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not satisfied with this answer, the baby polar bear goes to his father and asks ''Daddy, am I 100% polar bear?'' The father pauses briefly, and responds ''Well, your mom's parents were both 100% polar bear, and my parents were both 100% polar bear, so yes, you're 100% polar bear.''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father then looks at his son and says ''why do you ask?''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The son replies ''because I'm ABSOLUTELY BLOODY FREEZING!!!!''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The joke didn't woo me - but it certainly made me laugh, and remember him.  I will tell the whole story sometime, but it was a long 7 month wait until we began dating properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-4997774060805909381?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/4997774060805909381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=4997774060805909381' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4997774060805909381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4997774060805909381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-funny-valentine.html' title='My Funny Valentine'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SZRZX8nkLAI/AAAAAAAAAJI/_6--bzIfzFI/s72-c/starofxo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-3202408376677096009</id><published>2009-01-30T09:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T09:09:53.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Car Keys and Julie Andrews</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/theatre/soundmusic460.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 460px; height: 300px;" src="http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/theatre/soundmusic460.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Curtis passed his driving test back in October. He had to wait until he had car insurance (a Christmas present) to drive again. Boy, did he whine! So, we whined about the fact that he didn't have a job. He got car insurance, but has done absolutely diddly squat about the job!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He doesn't go many places (which I'm thankful for). Probably because he can only drive solo or with a family member right now ... until March.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's doing good.  I'm figuring out how to manage my own emotions a little better - I am learning to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;stop&lt;/span&gt; worrying about him when he's out. We have rules set down for his driving. He has to text me when he's leaving someplace and coming home, no phone calls when he's driving, music turned down, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hoodie&lt;/span&gt; hood OFF.  He still needs his Mum - when the gas tank is empty, for example, or, when he's hungry - which is a constant thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a good kid, excellent student, hard working ... he genuinely wants to listen to the advice his Mum and Dad give to him, he's extremely mature in many ways ... but he still teases the heck out of his sister and torments the dog (which I like to see).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence has just turned 13. Things are changing between us (again). She's drawing closer - I think she's becoming aware of the beginnings of changes in her body and possibly needs some reassurance. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cadey&lt;/span&gt; is the most fun-loving, happy-go-lucky girl I know! She's always been like this. She's a bright star in my life and she brings me so much joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's auditioning on Monday for a part in the school play - The Sound of Music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my most watched movie of all time.  I have an Aunt - Hi! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;GrAuntie&lt;/span&gt; Jean!!! who took me to see it every year (for many years) when it was playing at the movies when I was a kid - good memories because it meant a weekend at her house, which was a treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW - she's now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;GrAuntie&lt;/span&gt; because she's my kids' &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gr&lt;/span&gt;eat &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aunt&lt;/span&gt;:)  and I'm her Flee - always have been ... I feel lucky because she gave my brother Jon the nickname of KIPPER!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Cadey&lt;/span&gt; and I will be learning lines this weekend and practising "The Hills are Alive" song. She's wanting to work on an accent too - I only know one, and Fraulein Maria with a Yorkshire accent might be a little odd, don't you think? We have the movie on video - I'll dig it out (and the old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;vcr&lt;/span&gt; and we'll run through it) ... we're doing absolutely NOTHING on Sunday afternoon - I hear there's a little football game going on, but Craig can record that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping that she gets more than a walk-on part - this could be so good for her - wish her luck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-3202408376677096009?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/3202408376677096009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=3202408376677096009' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3202408376677096009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3202408376677096009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/01/car-keys-and-julie-andrews_30.html' title='Car Keys and Julie Andrews'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-8015904146418712422</id><published>2009-01-23T17:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T17:32:05.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We did it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SXpu7Uv0KHI/AAAAAAAAAJA/3ta5XIFNg74/s1600-h/citizenship+040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SXpu7Uv0KHI/AAAAAAAAAJA/3ta5XIFNg74/s400/citizenship+040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294666277388036210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;On January 22nd, 2009 @ 2pm we became American Citizens! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-8015904146418712422?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/8015904146418712422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=8015904146418712422' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8015904146418712422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8015904146418712422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/01/we-did-it.html' title='We did it!'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SXpu7Uv0KHI/AAAAAAAAAJA/3ta5XIFNg74/s72-c/citizenship+040.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-5985029605378735903</id><published>2009-01-08T09:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T12:06:43.858-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yoga ... with Meg?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was given a yoga &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dvd&lt;/span&gt; in my Christmas stocking this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since its raining outside, I figured I'd give it a try this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the idea of yoga and releasing stress, stretching, controlling breathing ... it all looks so serene and calming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it would have been ... if MEG wasn't in the room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a joke!  I made a couple of mistakes in my preparation time this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To begin with, I'm not the most tech-savvy gal in the house.  It took me at least 15 minutes to figure out how to get the X-box to play the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dvd&lt;/span&gt;.  I've probably screwed-up all the settings on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; in the process too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Meg was prowling around, and in my face, and on my back, under, over, alongside - I'm sure you get the picture.  She thought I was playing with her!  The yoga mat smells good to her, so she wanted to curl up slap-bang in the middle of it.  Me sitting, cross-legged on the floor = wrestle time!  Me with my eyes closed laying flat out = kisses.  Hair dangling in a stretch pose = bite my hair and ears!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's a very affectionate (not small and severely hairy) dog!  I didn't get mad at her, just frustrated at myself, which is not the right mind-set to have when one is trying to perform yoga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did eventually manage to reach a compromise - she could have half the yoga mat and lick my toes if I could get on with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dvd&lt;/span&gt;.  It worked well - just in time for the final 5 minute cool-down stretch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel kind of good:)  Good enough to venture out in the rain and give Meg her exercise now.  Next time, I'll know better and put her out of the room so that I can concentrate, relax and listen to half an hour of her protests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-5985029605378735903?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/5985029605378735903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=5985029605378735903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/5985029605378735903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/5985029605378735903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/01/yoga-with-meg.html' title='Yoga ... with Meg?'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-3775144595070682088</id><published>2009-01-05T12:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T09:02:04.677-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Hair Rant</title><content type='html'>Over the years, I've had many hairstyles.  I used to have it permed, used to colour it and tried highlights too.  I've gone from shoulder-length curls to less than one inch long and spiky (and everywhere in between)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the past 5 years or so, I've enjoyed chin-length straight hair and the ability to tie it up has been a bonus for me.  I've been happy with it, happy with my hairdresser and I've not given it much more thought than that ... until recently ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm not loving my hair.  There are several factors contributing to this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One: the weather - I have fine, fly-away hair at the best of times, so I'm experiencing static hair because of the indoor heat and cold outside. I can't seem to style it without putting on a ton of gunk and goop and when I do, I go outside and it 'drops'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two: grey hairs seem to be sprouting in abundance - they're a different texture to my hair, so they're sticking up and waving their big silver strands which seem to be saying "hey!  look at me!!" I want to grow old(er) gracefully, but I'm losing the battle of plucking out the greys with the tweezers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't coloured my hair for years and I'm kind of scared of doing so.  Plus, I'm a tight-wad and I don't want to pay my hairdresser extortionate amounts of cash to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;camouflage&lt;/span&gt; the greys (I feel like I pay her enough to cut it).   I have to do &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; - I feel a trip to the drugstore is possibly in order, if I can get over my fear of turning my hair mahogany or plum (I once turned it black by mistake).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the main reason for not loving my hair is ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three: I had an appointment with my hairdresser just before Christmas.  I must admit that I am the world's biggest procrastinator when it comes to getting my hair cut!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about finding a new hairdresser since the summer, but, since I procrastinate, I haven't done a single thing about it ... except for thinking ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the third haircut I've had that I've not been too thrilled about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did have a very good reason this time though. Her doggy was dying. She was telling me this as I was sitting in the chair with shampoo up to my ears. I'm cringing, and thinking, I wish she'd have called and cancelled me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She re-tells the story that she's probably told all her clients that day ... her friend arrives - she'd just returned from visiting the dog at the vets ... my hairdresser gets a phone call from the vet ... she gets upset ... she's still cutting my hair!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's left long bits, given me short bits and even shorter bits - and I don't know what she's done with the back of my head - it doesn't look right. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;daren't&lt;/span&gt; go back and complain because she'll only cut it shorter.  And in the back of my mind, I remember that her hobby is playing on an all girl ice-hockey team (I'm not intimidated by her, but I'd hate to cross her). It takes me forever to style it now, which I HATE. I'm used to blow-drying, spraying hairspray - and I'm set for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been with this lady for 6 years or so.  Usually, she's very good, but lately, not so good.  She's a sweetheart, and yes, she had to have her dog put to sleep in the end (I can relate totally to what kind of emotional state she was in when she cut my hair, having gone through this experience myself - and I should be thankful that I still have both my ear-lobes).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anybody can recommend a good LOCAL hairstylist - who is reasonably priced, PLEASE let me know ... I'm not going back ... well, at least for another 8 weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-3775144595070682088?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/3775144595070682088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=3775144595070682088' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3775144595070682088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3775144595070682088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2009/01/bad-hair-rant.html' title='Bad Hair Rant'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-7449819398808362140</id><published>2008-12-27T09:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T12:56:52.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SVZowKoW26I/AAAAAAAAAI0/C0Ld8tmLtBM/s1600-h/christmasday08+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SVZowKoW26I/AAAAAAAAAI0/C0Ld8tmLtBM/s200/christmasday08+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284526389462490018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here are some pics from our little Christmas, and I'm sure that I'll post a few more in a couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curtis (and Craig) got a bag-full of Nirvana cds from Santa, Meg got a box of treats, I got a cashmere scarf all the way from Ireland.  (I've never felt cashmere before - its like a little bunny's tail - I'm in LOVE, and Craig's bank balance may live to regret introducing me to this material).  Cadence received too many gifts (its so easy to buy for girls:)  but I think her fave was an ihome alarm clock and ipod player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SVZn7OP7_hI/AAAAAAAAAIk/l3gyzewIGEU/s1600-h/christmasday08+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SVZn7OP7_hI/AAAAAAAAAIk/l3gyzewIGEU/s200/christmasday08+018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284525479900741138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas without Crackers just before our Dinner.  Everybody has to wear the crown and tell the joke - and everybody gets one token Brussel Sprout with their meal ... and they MUST eat it!  Between dinner and dessert, we do the dishes, then make room for dessert by 'jumping down the dinner' - something my dad started years ago.  I unfortunately am banned from serving Christmas Pudding though, as I'm the only one who enjoys it, so apple pie and custard is what we serve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope your Christmas was sweet&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and filled with traditions and new memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The snow has almost gone now, Curtis has his car insurance (from Santa), so I'm going to be chauffeur-driven around town for the next week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SVZn6be68ZI/AAAAAAAAAIU/9xFbFbdqvtk/s1600-h/christmasday08+049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SVZn6be68ZI/AAAAAAAAAIU/9xFbFbdqvtk/s200/christmasday08+049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284525466273378706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SVZn6Nij_pI/AAAAAAAAAIM/7CTCLFe28e8/s1600-h/christmasday08+051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SVZn6Nij_pI/AAAAAAAAAIM/7CTCLFe28e8/s200/christmasday08+051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284525462530555538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-7449819398808362140?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/7449819398808362140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=7449819398808362140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7449819398808362140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7449819398808362140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-pics.html' title='Christmas Pics'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SVZowKoW26I/AAAAAAAAAI0/C0Ld8tmLtBM/s72-c/christmasday08+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-2005162670413308767</id><published>2008-12-18T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T18:17:07.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Food Nazi Strikes Again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SUsBbBfXtnI/AAAAAAAAAHc/DIlHKIoMhr4/s1600-h/snowday1+028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SUsBbBfXtnI/AAAAAAAAAHc/DIlHKIoMhr4/s200/snowday1+028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281316551790147186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SUsBa2S-TjI/AAAAAAAAAHU/IxXZbCthYWQ/s1600-h/snowday1+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SUsBa2S-TjI/AAAAAAAAAHU/IxXZbCthYWQ/s200/snowday1+033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281316548785360434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SUsBaTz4UhI/AAAAAAAAAHM/TfxcnzG5TGU/s1600-h/snowday1+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SUsBaTz4UhI/AAAAAAAAAHM/TfxcnzG5TGU/s200/snowday1+034.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281316539528139282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SUsBaMZbKGI/AAAAAAAAAHE/pmubUznULyE/s1600-h/snowday1+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SUsBaMZbKGI/AAAAAAAAAHE/pmubUznULyE/s200/snowday1+026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281316537538127970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, we're out buying winter boots in Everett yesterday.  We visit K-Mart and the kids start whining ... yes, Curtis isn't to old to whine.  They wanted soda pop and candy!  I only allow diet soda pop, which they don't care for, so they opted for the candy ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let them choose their sweeties, then we get sidetracked when we pass the entrance.  A blizzard going on outside!  We hurry and pay and take a short, but hazardous and very slow drive home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrive safely, unpack the bags, get dinner, etc.  and the candies get forgotten about.  Good thing really, because I confiscated them until I could get at the kitchen scales and start looking at the stats on the package. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids are not impressed.  The big bag of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Starburst&lt;/span&gt; Jelly Beans would last Curtis a morning, usually.  I split the bag up into servings - 9, yep folks NINE servings (won't necessarily last him 9 days, but oh well).  I feel sorry for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cadey&lt;/span&gt; - she bought &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Reeces&lt;/span&gt; Pieces - only 3 servings :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, the Food Nazi is alive and kicking during the Holidays too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-2005162670413308767?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/2005162670413308767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=2005162670413308767' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/2005162670413308767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/2005162670413308767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/12/food-nazi-strikes-again.html' title='The Food Nazi Strikes Again!'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SUsBbBfXtnI/AAAAAAAAAHc/DIlHKIoMhr4/s72-c/snowday1+028.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-4098963230973012803</id><published>2008-12-15T19:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T20:03:42.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day I Will Always Remember by Muriel Curtis (My Mum) c. 1977</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My most memorable day was Christmas Eve, 1967.  That was the day I arrived home from hospital with my new baby daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had spent 6 weeks in hospital prior to her birth and longed to be home again with my husband and two other children, Jonathan, just five years old and Sindee, seven and a half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of complications, I knew my baby was going to be born prematurely, so it was no surprise when she was small at birth, weighing four and a half pounds.  She was placed in an incubator, and for five days, her life hung in the balance.  I could not give up hope, yet, every time the doctor came into the ward, I expected him to tell me the baby had died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she was five days old, I was able to go to the special baby unit to see her taken out of the incubator and to hold and feed her for the first time; she was so tiny I was almost afraid to hold her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to feed her every three hours in the baby unit and could see she was beginning to gain weight, but was told I would not be able to take her home until she weighed five pounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided that because she was so small we would give her a short name.  We named her Lisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days before Christmas Day, I decided I wanted to be at home with my other children.  When the doctor came on his rounds that morning, I asked him if I could go home the following morning, which was Christmas Eve.  He said I could, but that Lisa must be left in the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happy at the thought of going home after seven weeks, but not about leaving my baby behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the morning of my discharge I was asked to go to see the pediatrician who had come to examine Lisa.  After examination, he told me she had overcome her difficulties and, provided she weighed that magical number 5 pounds, I could take her home with me.  I held my breath, I could not watch her being weighed, then sister &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(ward nurse) &lt;/span&gt;told me all was well, by baby had reached five pounds and half an ounce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thrilled with the news and telephoned my husband and children at once.  Just two hours later the three of them arrived, laden with baby clothes.  We all went to the nursery to collect Lisa.  Sindee and Jonathan helped the sister to dress the baby; they were thrilled with her.  She looked beautiful in all her new white clothes, but everything was far too big for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we arrived home, my children would not leave the site of the pram&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; (baby carriage)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;, they watched her every minute of that day, they even had their meals beside her.  I don't think they could believe that at last they had the baby they had waited so long for, but there she lay, just nine days old, weighing five pounds and half an ounce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Christmas Eve and five-year-old Jonathan had just learned his first carols at school.  He sang Once in Royal David City as he rocked the pram.  They thought that she was the best Christmas present they received that year, and I agreed with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look at my robust tomboy today, its difficult to believe that she is the same child that caused all the anxiety that Christmas ten years ago.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-4098963230973012803?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/4098963230973012803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=4098963230973012803' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4098963230973012803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4098963230973012803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-i-will-always-remember-by-muriel.html' title='A Day I Will Always Remember by Muriel Curtis (My Mum) c. 1977'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-7911508225077084412</id><published>2008-12-11T22:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T23:04:57.375-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Christmas Memory</title><content type='html'>Cadence and I were chatting about Christmas and my memories of when she was little this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were laughing about one memory, which happened on a very hot day in June 2000 (she was 4 1/2), I promise you that it is Christmas related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were visiting the Cougar Mountain Zoo.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cadey&lt;/span&gt; was wearing a Barbie Pink Cast on her leg as she'd broken it the month before on our neighbour's trampoline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Yes, I was wracked with guilt over this accident.  I was less than 2 feet away from her when it happened - she simply fell on the tramp. with one leg tucked underneath her bum - and she broke her tibia, had her leg in cast for 8 weeks, then 2 days after the cast came off, she came down with Chicken Pox .... 2 weeks after that, Curtis came down with the Chicken Pox!!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the story ... so, we're looking at the parrots, cougars, etc.  then we get to the reindeer.  They'd had babies (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;calfs&lt;/span&gt; ... ?)  There was a lady Ranger at this viewing area, educating us on reindeer.  She was very knowledgeable, explaining their natural habitat compared to WA state.  Everybody was interested in the babies - they were so cute!  At the end of her lecture, she asked if anybody had any questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cadey&lt;/span&gt; raised her hand and she asked:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can they fly yet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody laughed at her, but everybody sighed and said "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Awwwww&lt;/span&gt;"  I think she melted a few hearts with that question!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing Christmas through the eyes of a child is such a thrill and making memories are even more thrilling!  Looks like we may make some snowball fight memories this weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-7911508225077084412?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/7911508225077084412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=7911508225077084412' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7911508225077084412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7911508225077084412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-memory.html' title='Christmas Memory'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-1951461185851492790</id><published>2008-12-08T08:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T08:23:25.168-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's Your Christmas Card ...?</title><content type='html'>Craig and I sometimes wonder how many Starbucks Gift Cards, spa products and novelty socks one person can actually possess and gain enjoyment from at Christmas-time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like everywhere I turn, the commercial Christmas theme is trying to sell me $5.00's worth of and $10.00's worth of crap, which I can't live without, or which would be perfect for my friend, a great thank you gift or teacher gift. It's all a bunch of baloney!  I feel the same way about Hallmark cards too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this in mind, plus a few other reasons like: wanting to simplify Christmas, enjoying our children and remembering the true meaning of Christmas, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ie&lt;/span&gt;, Christ's birth ... we have decided to make a purchase of a farm animal through World Concern to be given to a family in Africa - for everyone we know who is on the 'card and present worthy' list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going to purchase a goat - they are one of the best sources of milk (which can then made into cheese and yogurt and sold at market) and they eat virtually anything.  A goat can turn a family's life around, improving their health and wealth and giving them a hope for the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're like us - you see the need in the world, you see the hunger in the world and you feel overwhelmed by it all ... wondering how your small donation can help these desperate families.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have figured out that by not buying Christmas Cards, little insignificant token gifts and paying for the postage that we can use the money we would usually spend to do this instead!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good warm, fuzzy feelings are what Christmas is all about!  We hope that you feel this way about learning why you haven't received a card from us this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Merry Christmas! And please ... if you feel inspired to do the same ... we won't miss your card either! www.worldvisiongifts.org&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;With much love at Christmas-time,&lt;br /&gt;Lisa, Craig, Curtis &amp;amp; Cadence xoxo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-1951461185851492790?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/1951461185851492790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=1951461185851492790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1951461185851492790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1951461185851492790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/12/wheres-your-christmas-card.html' title='Where&apos;s Your Christmas Card ...?'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-4265012247552315827</id><published>2008-12-05T20:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T21:21:54.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 13th Birthday Cadence!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SToKfiwu8aI/AAAAAAAAAF8/rPOt5PFIXm8/s1600-h/cadeys13th+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SToKfiwu8aI/AAAAAAAAAF8/rPOt5PFIXm8/s320/cadeys13th+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276541450441388450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Happy Birthday, Sweetpea! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, and I'm so glad that you have had a wonderful day,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum xx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SToKe_p_aHI/AAAAAAAAAF0/P53QvEblcgY/s1600-h/cadeys13th+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SToKe_p_aHI/AAAAAAAAAF0/P53QvEblcgY/s320/cadeys13th+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276541441017866354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-4265012247552315827?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/4265012247552315827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=4265012247552315827' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4265012247552315827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4265012247552315827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-13th-birthday-cadence.html' title='Happy 13th Birthday Cadence!'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SToKfiwu8aI/AAAAAAAAAF8/rPOt5PFIXm8/s72-c/cadeys13th+017.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-5323871161275312084</id><published>2008-12-03T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T08:34:34.655-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dream come True</title><content type='html'>Between the ages of 10 and 15, I had an obsession.  Nope, it wasn't with pop music, cutesy teen singers, soccer players or movie stars &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - oddly enough, it was owls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bedroom walls were covered with pictures of owls, paintings of owls, and my own artwork.  I researched them, learned all their Latin names, their calls and what area of the world each specific owl lived in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a collection of ornaments, friends and relatives always knew what to buy me for my birthday and Christmas.  I still have some of these ornaments, although now they're tucked away in a box someplace safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a fascination with nature at large at that age.  I loved working in the yard, growing plants from seed, loved being outdoors in general and I LOVED owls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember once, my Dad took me to collect owl pellets (Mum was totally repulsed) - we found some, brought them home and soaked them in bleach, then investigated what the owl had regurgitated (bones and skin).  It was such an adventure for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen owls from a distance, mainly at night - just out of sight of vehicles headlights.  I've seen them at the zoo - perched oh so tamely in the raptor exhibit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But last night, (as I let Meg out for her bedtime pee), on our birdbath - 25 ft away from me - was an owl, startled by us, taking flight, coming towards me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just stood there in awe!  It flew above my head, then over and into a tree ... in complete silence! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memory of those couple of seconds were of wonderment, trying to drink in this birds beauty, its size, its feathers, its eyes ... its silence.  That was eerie - its true - their feathers do not make a sound AT ALL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that there were owls in the neighbourhood - I've heard their calls over the years.  I feel so lucky, I'm still on a high from this encounter ... I'll be on the lookout again tonight.  I think it was a Barred Owl ... I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;think &lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meg was as bewildered as me for a moment, then proceeded to go potty and sniff around the birdbath for a few minutes - no big deal to her!  I think I need to check her breed characteristics - I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thought &lt;/span&gt;she was a retriever, gun dog, (bird dog) - but she's turned out to be a plain old sofa dog!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-5323871161275312084?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/5323871161275312084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=5323871161275312084' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/5323871161275312084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/5323871161275312084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/12/dream-come-true.html' title='A Dream come True'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-275380822066224904</id><published>2008-11-26T11:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T21:58:00.072-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hearts not Lips</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre class="WMmessagebody"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Every day, I receive an email devotional.  This is today's - and I found it worthy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;of posting it upon my blog, especially as we enter into Thanksgiving. Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;"These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men" (Matthew 15:8,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;9).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;You've heard people say:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;"Talk is cheap."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;"He's just giving lip-service."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;"Put your money where your mouth is."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;These sayings are all just ways to express that the words you speak have little&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;value if they are not followed up with action.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Even more than your fellow citizens, God is interested in the attitude of your&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;heart rather than your words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;God sees our hearts; He knows our thoughts; He discerns the attitudes and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;motivations behind our actions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;When we say we love God, but haven't surrendered our will to Him, we are just like the Pharisees He&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;addressed in these verses from Matthew (also in Mark 7:6, 7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark%207:6,%207" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark%207:6,%207&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;;&amp;amp;version=31;)).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;The Pharisees had become caught up in the rules they had created for daily life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Their worship of God became an opportunity to show everyone how well they&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;followed the rules.   Thus, rather than worshipping God, they were merely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;glorifying themselves. By focusing on external conduct they forgot that unlike&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;men, God looks at the heart:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;"The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Samuel%2016:7" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Samuel%2016:7&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;;&amp;amp;version=31;)).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;"God does not judge by external appearance" (Galatians 2:6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Galatians%202:6" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Galatians%202:6&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;;&amp;amp;version=31;)).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Let us be mindful of the fact that our words are meaningless to God if they&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;don't reflect a heart that is seeking Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;God, I want my heart to be near to You. Thank you for this reminder that You are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;more concerned with my thoughts and motivation than You are with my words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Forgive me for trying to look good while harboring wrong attitudes in my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Amen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Questions: When you consider the frustration you have experienced when people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;say what they think you want to hear without meaning it, how do you think God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;feels toward us when we do the same thing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-275380822066224904?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/275380822066224904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=275380822066224904' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/275380822066224904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/275380822066224904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/11/hearts-not-lips.html' title='Hearts not Lips'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-7765034976234184972</id><published>2008-11-25T08:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T08:41:40.738-08:00</updated><title type='text'>STRIPPED</title><content type='html'>It is not until it is stripped of its leaves that you can see the peculiar characteristics of each individual tree:  the massive and generous bough structure of the beech, the majesty of the oak, the straightness of the larch and the grace of the birch.  And so it is with our friends.  It is not until we have shared some great experience that we see one another as we really are.  It is when the winters come and the big winds blow that superficialities and pretences are stripped away revealing the bare bones of true affection in all their strength and beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Patience Strong&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-7765034976234184972?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/7765034976234184972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=7765034976234184972' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7765034976234184972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7765034976234184972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/11/stripped.html' title='STRIPPED'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-3859663237938412062</id><published>2008-10-24T08:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T08:50:53.385-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do I miss my home?</title><content type='html'>We've lived here for 15 years now. We still get asked if we miss our home. I don't miss my hometown at all, not even my homeland, but I do miss my family...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days, I'd give ANYTHING for a cuppa tea and a hug from my Mum, go visit any of my sisters-in-law and have a glass of wine and a good laugh, or visit with some old friends and share a nice meal and catch up with them. Right now, I'd love to visit with a certain new baby girl :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do all this and more when we visit anyways, so, although it doesn't happen as often as we'd like it to ... it still happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For two very important people in my life, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mukilteo&lt;/span&gt; is their home - they don't know anything different. Curtis was 14 months old when we moved here, (two suitcases, a stroller and an infant car-seat were all we possessed, but that's another blog entry). Cadence was born here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids think that a trip back home is a vacation, which it is, kind of. For me, its primarily to visit the family. My idea of a vacation is sunshine, sand, relaxation... The kids enjoy the differences in the cultures - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cadey&lt;/span&gt; revels in the spotlight of attention that her American Accent brings - she glows! And, they gain some understanding about why their parents are a 'little different' (we're not different at all - just displaced - everyone in Hull is like Craig and me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hull is very flat - extremely flat ... it sits on the plain of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Holderness&lt;/span&gt; - a glacial moraine deposit, so is very fertile and so lots of agriculture, but these days lots of flooding too. There isn't scenery anything like WA state, but we do have the rolling hills of the Yorkshire Wolds, the North Sea with its fishing towns, cliffs, and wonderful beaches (when its not raining). Of course, there's always old places to explore - old settlements, castles, churches, museums ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is strange ... being raised in Northern English culture with very little disposable income and a "make do and mend" attitude. Friends were raised the same way - we have a common bond there. Very few people moved away and people with different skin colour or accents were few and far between. Leaving that place of normalcy and trying to become entrenched in a different environment has been interesting and fun. WA State is very diverse in its population, so you're free to be who you want to be and do what you want to do, because of the many cultures blending here already. We're just adding to that huge melting pot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We felt for many years that we didn't completely fit in here. But those feelings have changed, thankfully. We realize that now, we don't quite fit in back home either. We've been gone too long, don't know the recent history, who's famous in that land, don't know the music, news, in-jokes, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must tell you about a funny thing happening to us on our last trip home.  During our car journey north after landing at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Heathrow&lt;/span&gt;, we stopped off at a 'motorway cafe' to get a meal and some 'goodies' for the trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was quite a performance ... two jet-lagged adults, stressed, because they've just had to try to remember how to park a little (stick-shift, steering wheel on the other side of the) vehicle into a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;minuscule&lt;/span&gt; parking spot, two kids who really didn't want a meal because to them, its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;waaaay&lt;/span&gt; past their bed-time, but instead wanted to scarf down all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Cadbury's&lt;/span&gt; Chocolate they could get their hands on.  Then the kids paying for their items with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;funny money&lt;/span&gt; - a 15 year old (with a British accent) asking for help counting out coins ... not knowing the value of each coin ... holding up the queue ... we were quite a sight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the style of ten pound note (or Tenner) in our possession last year had been taken out of circulation several years prior ... we didn't know this ... we tried to pay for our 'sweeties' with it ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cashier looked at us ... we knew something was wrong ... she looked down at the Tenner ... she looked at us again ... she must have thought we were nuts! (especially since we'd just had the fiasco with Curtis and his coins).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sounded like her, looked like her, but judging by our blank expressions, we were utterly clueless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Ooooooh&lt;/span&gt; no, luv, you can't pay &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;wiv&lt;/span&gt; this ..... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;where've&lt;/span&gt; ya bin fa 3 an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;arf&lt;/span&gt; years? ... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ey&lt;/span&gt; June!  come and 'av a look at this!  This &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;fella's&lt;/span&gt; got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;wun&lt;/span&gt;-a-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;vem&lt;/span&gt; old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;tennas&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The four of us turned purple with embarrassment and I whipped out my Visa card pronto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We paid for our stuff ... on credit ... then as we were leaving, the cashier says (and Cadence does a fantastic mimic of this next line) ... "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Fanks&lt;/span&gt; luv, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;fanks&lt;/span&gt; a bunch!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am proud to be British ... even prouder to come from Yorkshire.  Would I ever want to return there to live?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-3859663237938412062?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/3859663237938412062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=3859663237938412062' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3859663237938412062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3859663237938412062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/10/do-i-miss-my-home.html' title='Do I miss my home?'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-8141615833832262718</id><published>2008-10-17T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T11:36:44.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BOLLOCKS!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Erm&lt;/span&gt; ... no, I don't use bad language!  And in this case, it isn't used as a 'bad' word ... well, maybe it was initially, but over the years it became a standard response ... almost a "Ditto" meaning, for those of us who've watched the movie "Ghost". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me explain, but first, here's the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/span&gt; meaning of the word:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bollocks"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; is a word of Anglo-Saxon &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;origin, meaning "&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;testicles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Testicle" title="Testicle"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;". The word is often used figuratively in British English, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;as a noun to mean "nonsense", an expletive following a minor accident or misfortune, or an adjective to mean "poor quality" or "useless". Similarly, the common phrases "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bollocks&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; to this!" or "That's a load of old &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bollocks&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;" generally indicate disgust &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disgust" title="Disgust"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;about a certain task, subject or opinion. Conversely, the word also figures in idiomatic phrases such as "the dog's &lt;i style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bollocks&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;" and "top &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bollock&lt;/span&gt;(s)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;", which usually refer to something which is admired, approved of or well-respected.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, now that you understand the meaning ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is what was my Dad's birthday.  He would be 74 if he were still walking this earth.  I like to remember his birthday rather than the day he died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was Daddy's Little Girl.  The youngest of 3 children, and quite an age gap between my 2 siblings and me.  My sister, Sindee Jayne,  is almost 8 years older, my brother Jonathan Mark is almost 6 older, and then me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad and me had a special relationship.  I think he had more free time when I was growing up, so I benefited more from spending time with him than my siblings.  I truly enjoyed his company.  I enjoyed hanging out with him in his workshop and garden - he taught me wood-turning, how to make fishing floats, tie knots, fix a flat bicycle tire, prune roses, grow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Brussel&lt;/span&gt; Sprouts, Potatoes, Beans.  We enjoyed bicycle rides, fishing, walking the dog and also a similar dry, quirky sense of humour.  I'd quite often get myself in a pickle with whatever I was helping my Dad with, so I also became affectionately named (by him) at those moments as "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cack&lt;/span&gt;-handed Annie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I hit the teenage years.  Everything changed.  I was rebellious and we didn't get along too well.  I didn't get along with my Mum either ... I was a difficult, angry teenager for several years there.  I think it was about then that the 'bollocks' word came into play!  He'd say "I love you" (in jest) and I'd reply ... 'bollocks'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward 10 years or so, and I'm living in another country.  I wrote letters every chance I got and made weekly phone calls to Mum and Dad and 'that word' began to get spoken again.  One of us, before saying goodbye would say "I love you" and "that word" was ALWAYS the response!  It became a game we'd play, wondering who'd say it first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did love my Dad.  He loved me.  In fact, it amazes me that he's been gone for almost 9 years, but the love I had for him is still in my heart, still as strong.  My memories of my time with him are so rich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a stubborn man, quiet, loved to potter about in his workshop, he loved to read, loved to learn new things, he had terrible handwriting, he enjoyed a bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale with his Sunday lunch and he loved and adored his wife, children and grandchildren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow, in remembrance of my Dad, I'll say a prayer ... and just before I say "Amen," I'll add a quick "Bollocks" just for him - he wouldn't expect anything less!  (Jesus understands).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-8141615833832262718?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/8141615833832262718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=8141615833832262718' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8141615833832262718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8141615833832262718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/10/bollocks.html' title='BOLLOCKS!'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-7679211352799492415</id><published>2008-10-01T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T08:30:17.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to the world, Imogen Grace!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SOOQoJmQ--I/AAAAAAAAAFM/oGIUWqX6C0M/s1600-h/IMOGEN.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SOOQoJmQ--I/AAAAAAAAAFM/oGIUWqX6C0M/s320/IMOGEN.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252200609889713122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My sister's youngest daughter, my niece, Stephanie gave birth to a baby girl last month. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the world, Imogen Grace!  Although I've never seen you, I love you more than words can say.  You'll probably be walking and talking by the time I do get to meet you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My prayers for Stephanie right now are for her to have the energy and confidence to take care of this baby as a single, and very young, mother.  I can't imagine how hard that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited to be a great auntie!  Every time I look at this photo, my heart strings are pulled 4952.32 miles and all I want is to have a moment with Imogen ... right now before she grows up.  If my friends catch me in the act of giving extra cuddles and snuggles to their babies, this is the reason why!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-7679211352799492415?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/7679211352799492415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=7679211352799492415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7679211352799492415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7679211352799492415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/10/welcome-to-world-imogen-grace.html' title='Welcome to the world, Imogen Grace!'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SOOQoJmQ--I/AAAAAAAAAFM/oGIUWqX6C0M/s72-c/IMOGEN.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-1153376364296134779</id><published>2008-09-19T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T08:50:30.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuppa Tea</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've had these thoughts saved in my drafts folder for a few weeks now.  Seems apt to post it now, following on the heels of yesterday's Tea Time Title.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tea is the BEST drink in the whole wide world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, living in Seattle - the COFFEE capital of the world that I should embrace the cuppa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;joe&lt;/span&gt; philosophy ... and I do - once a day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tea is what I drink with my breakfast, lunch and dinner and supper and anytime in-between.  Before I begin a project.  Before I go out.  When I come back home.  When anybody calls round.  When I want to take a break.  I'm sure you get the picture by now.  The kettle is always on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hot amber nectar (orange pekoe/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tetley&lt;/span&gt; British Blend) and a splash of milk just works magic on me - giving me what I need to make it through...to the next cup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Craig and I laugh about this because he's just as much of a tea freak as I am. He calls me on his cell-phone usually for one of two reasons: (1) when he's leaving work to tell me to "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Gerra&lt;/span&gt;-brew-on", or (2) he forgot to set the video and needs a soccer game recording.  I must admit that I have learned to enjoy other varieties of tea, but Craig, unfortunately has not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He calls my other teas "foo-foo" tea, meaning anything not resembling that milky, malty elixir aka The Great British Cuppa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My personal Foo-Foo Faves are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Rooibos&lt;/span&gt;/African/Red tea/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;honeybush&lt;/span&gt; - they're all the same - caffeine free - but strong, full-bodied  and sweet, Green Tea, but only with a berry infusion and oddly enough at bedtime I enjoy chamomile tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've kind of flirted with coffee for many years. I seriously began to appreciate its energizing benefits when I began working out, well, AFTER working out! I can go home and vacuum right through the house, without stopping for a ... cuppa:)  I drink a tall &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Americano&lt;/span&gt;, extra room and a tiny splash of cream, sometimes with a little cinnamon on top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Craig, like I said, will not try coffee AT ALL - "nasty stuff" he calls it.  Hot Chocolate, Starbucks Strawberries &amp;amp; Cream &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Frappucino&lt;/span&gt;, Raspberry Green Tea Lemonade are his faves.  We quite often take a 'date walk' up to Starbucks - approximately 20 minutes walk away (with Meg).  I'll order low-fat versions, or half the amount of sweetener (he's sweet enough already) of his drink, and embarrass the heck out of him for asking for something 'different'. As soon as I open my mouth and speak, I've got their attention anyways!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see that there's a Pumpkin Spice Latte back on the chalkboard at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Sbux&lt;/span&gt; this week ... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, I believe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Lattes&lt;/span&gt; are for people who don't really enjoy the taste of coffee.  I'm sure by making that remark, I'll get some comments:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-1153376364296134779?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/1153376364296134779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=1153376364296134779' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1153376364296134779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1153376364296134779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/09/cuppa-tea.html' title='Cuppa Tea'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-3501926491561432711</id><published>2008-09-17T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T07:05:58.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tea-Time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="mxb"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just read this today on the BBC News website.  Pretty good news for us tea drinkers!  Go on, give it a try ... you know you want to ... this article might convince you to do so ... Cheers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tea 'healthier' drink than water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                                                                                                          &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;       &lt;!-- S BO --&gt; &lt;!-- S IIMA --&gt;     &lt;table align="right" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="203"&gt;    &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;    &lt;div&gt;     &lt;img alt="Image of a mug of tea" src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/42009000/jpg/_42009432_tea203.jpg" border="0" height="152" hspace="0" vspace="0" width="203" /&gt;     &lt;div class="cap"&gt;The researchers recommend people consume three to four cups a day&lt;/div&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;   &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;         &lt;!-- E IIMA --&gt; &lt;!-- S SF --&gt; Drinking three or more cups of tea a day is as good for you as drinking plenty of water and may even have extra health benefits, say researchers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The work in the European Journal of Clinical Nutrition dispels the common belief that tea dehydrates. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tea not only rehydrates as well as water does, but it can also protect against heart disease and some cancers, UK nutritionists found. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Experts believe flavonoids are the key ingredient in tea that promote health. &lt;!-- E SF --&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Healthy cuppa&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;These polyphenol antioxidants are found in many foods and plants, including tea leaves, and have been shown to help prevent cell damage. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;         &lt;!-- S IBOX --&gt;  &lt;table align="right" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="208"&gt;  &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;             &lt;td width="5"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/shared/img/o.gif" border="0" height="1" hspace="0" vspace="0" width="5" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;             &lt;td class="sibtbg"&gt;                                                                                &lt;div&gt;  &lt;div class="mva"&gt;   &lt;img alt="" src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/nol/shared/img/v3/start_quote_rb.gif" border="0" height="13" width="24" /&gt;   &lt;b&gt;Tea replaces fluids and contains antioxidants so its got two things going for it&lt;/b&gt;   &lt;img alt="" src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/nol/shared/img/v3/end_quote_rb.gif" align="right" border="0" height="13" vspace="0" width="23" /&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;     &lt;/div&gt;                                                            &lt;div class="mva"&gt;  &lt;div&gt;Lead author Dr Ruxton&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;                              &lt;/td&gt;         &lt;/tr&gt;  &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;       &lt;!-- E IBOX --&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Public health nutritionist Dr Carrie Ruxton, and colleagues at Kings College London, looked at published studies on the health effects of tea consumption. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They found clear evidence that drinking three to four cups of tea a day can cut the chances of having a heart attack.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Some studies suggested tea consumption protected against cancer, although this effect was less clear-cut.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Other health benefits seen included protection against tooth plaque and potentially tooth decay, plus bone strengthening.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dr Ruxton said: "Drinking tea is actually better for you than drinking water. Water is essentially replacing fluid. Tea replaces fluids and contains antioxidants so it's got two things going for it." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rehydrating&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;She said it was an urban myth that tea is dehydrating.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Studies on caffeine have found very high doses dehydrate and everyone assumes that caffeine-containing beverages dehydrate. But even if you had a really, really strong cup of tea or coffee, which is quite hard to make, you would still have a net gain of fluid. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Also, a cup of tea contains fluoride, which is good for the teeth," she added.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There was no evidence that tea consumption was harmful to health. However, research suggests that tea can impair the body's ability to absorb iron from food, meaning people at risk of anaemia should avoid drinking tea around mealtimes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;         &lt;!-- S IBOX --&gt;  &lt;table align="right" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="208"&gt;  &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;             &lt;td width="5"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/shared/img/o.gif" border="0" height="1" hspace="0" vspace="0" width="5" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;             &lt;td class="sibtbg"&gt;                                                                                &lt;div&gt;  &lt;div class="mva"&gt;   &lt;img alt="" src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/nol/shared/img/v3/start_quote_rb.gif" border="0" height="13" width="24" /&gt;   &lt;b&gt;Tea is not dehydrating. It is a healthy drink&lt;/b&gt;   &lt;img alt="" src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/nol/shared/img/v3/end_quote_rb.gif" align="right" border="0" height="13" vspace="0" width="23" /&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;     &lt;/div&gt;                                                            &lt;div class="mva"&gt;  &lt;div&gt;Claire Williamson of the British Nutrition Foundation&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;                              &lt;/td&gt;         &lt;/tr&gt;  &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;       &lt;!-- E IBOX --&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dr Ruxton's team found average tea consumption was just under three cups per day.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;She said the increasing popularity of soft drinks meant many people were not drinking as much tea as before.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Tea drinking is most common in older people, the 40 plus age range. In older people, tea sometimes made up about 70% of fluid intake so it is a really important contributor," she said. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Claire Williamson of the British Nutrition Foundation said: "Studies in the laboratory have shown potential health benefits.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"The evidence in humans is not as strong and more studies need to be done. But there are definite potential health benefits from the polyphenols in terms of reducing the risk of diseases such as heart disease and cancers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"In terms of fluid intake, we recommend 1.5-2 litres per day and that can include tea. Tea is not dehydrating. It is a healthy drink." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The Tea Council provided funding for the work. Dr Ruxton stressed that the work was independent.&lt;!-- E BO --&gt;                         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-3501926491561432711?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/3501926491561432711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=3501926491561432711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3501926491561432711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3501926491561432711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/09/tea-time.html' title='Tea-Time!'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-7752062530783299878</id><published>2008-09-14T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T08:44:01.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nope, its not Leprosy ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SM3izoRlnaI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eDy0BCYfs3A/s1600-h/IMG_4366.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SM3izoRlnaI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eDy0BCYfs3A/s320/IMG_4366.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246098517568888226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... its an auto immune disease called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Vitiligo&lt;/span&gt; - yeah, just like Michael Jackson has!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is very visible at the moment because of my tan.  The brown area is tan, the pink is my skin with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Vitiligo&lt;/span&gt;.  Every summer it appears visibly larger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This began somewhere in time between having the kids (92 - 95) - just areas in between my fingers which didn't tan in the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, its very rare - affecting one or two people out of every hundred ... although I believe it to be genetic because my aunt and a great aunt (on my Dad's side of the family) have this too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Google&lt;/span&gt; the name of the disease if you like - it comes up with various stories, alternative medicine, laser treatments, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to draw attention to the fact that it is NOT contagious, nor is it the beginning of Leprosy (honestly, folks have asked me that in the past), and it is not a scar from an accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was cuddling a friends baby at the weekend, I became acutely aware of the fact that my hands wrapped around this little bundle were being viewed just as much as he was!  I'm not embarrassed by it at all, I just don't like the thought of people thinking that they can catch it from me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is appearing elsewhere on my body too - toes, elbows, hips, underarms, even around my mouth and eyebrows.  The funny thing is that I'll notice a new outbreak, then several days later I'll notice a new patch on the other side of my body in exactly the same place.  So mine has symmetry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Areas of my body which have not seen sunshine in over 20 years - i.e. my hips, are affected, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Vitiligo&lt;/span&gt; is definitely not caused or accelerated by the sun.  I wouldn't mind showing off my hips right now (with my weight loss), but only on a beach ... Hawaii springs to mind, but a Greek Island called Rhodes would be perfect &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(if you're ever wondering what to do for our 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; ... Craig ...?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day soon, I'll visit the dermatologist.  I've read that treatments can be very hit and miss, and its not like its a serious condition, although it can be linked to other auto immune diseases, for example diabetes (which I have).  Maybe I should follow up on that doctor referral after all ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I count my blessings that I'm a white girl who can get away without covering it up too much for the time being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people with darker skin suffer greatly through this disease.  http://abcnews.go.com/Health/story?id=4075652 tells the story of Lee Thomas, a black news reporter with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Vitiligo&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can also turn your hair white, if it appears on your scalp - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;..... so that's nothing to do with my age right ...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anybody else have this disease running in their family?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-7752062530783299878?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/7752062530783299878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=7752062530783299878' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7752062530783299878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7752062530783299878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/09/nope-its-not-leprosy.html' title='Nope, its not Leprosy ...'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SM3izoRlnaI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eDy0BCYfs3A/s72-c/IMG_4366.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-7886247480784705324</id><published>2008-09-09T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T08:18:34.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We're all Sisters!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:180%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 18pt; font-family: Georgia; color: purple;"&gt;BEAUTIFUL CHRISTIAN SISTER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Georgia; color: purple;"&gt;by Maya Angelou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;color:#003366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(0, 51, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;'A woman's heart should be so hidden   in Christ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;that a man should have to seek Him   first to find her.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;div&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;When I say... 'I am a Christian' I'm   not shouting 'I'm clean livin,'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;I'm whispering 'I was lost, Now I'm   found and forgiven.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;When I say... 'I am a Christian' I   don't speak of this with pride.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;I'm confessing that I stumble and   need Christ to be my guide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;When I say... 'I am a Christian' I'm   not trying to be strong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;I'm professing that I'm weak and   need His strength to carry on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;When I say.. 'I am a Christian' I'm   not bragging of success.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;I'm admitting I have failed and need   God to clean my mess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;When I say... 'I am a Christian' I'm   not claiming to be perfect,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;My flaws are far too visible, but   God believes I am worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;When I say... 'I am a Christian' I   still feel the sting of pain...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;I have my share of heartaches, so I   call upon His name.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;When I say... 'I am a Christian' I'm   not holier than thou,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Century Gothic;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:purple;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana; color: purple;"&gt;I'm just a simple sinner Who   received God's good grace, somehow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Century Gothic;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Century Gothic&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-7886247480784705324?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/7886247480784705324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=7886247480784705324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7886247480784705324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7886247480784705324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/09/were-all-sisters.html' title='We&apos;re all Sisters!'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-7863178240546015726</id><published>2008-09-08T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T08:35:54.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Family Room</title><content type='html'>We've started redecorating our Family Room ... yet again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is such a dark room and we're struggling to give it the light it deserves. I've felt like a cave-woman, living in a dull and darkened room these past few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in order to correct the '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cavey&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ness&lt;/span&gt;', Craig removed the 'pair of boobies' light fixtures from the ceiling and installed recessed lights in the spring - that helped, but it didn't help much:(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked a new paint colour - Swiss Coffee, aka White with a hint of cream.  First coat is on ... it needs a second coat today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this doesn't help, then I'll need to address the big white elephant sitting front and centre ... well, its brown, tan, stoney, floor to ceiling with a big black metal box sitting in the middle of it.  The fireplace!  I'm either going to take a paintbrush and my Swiss Coffee to the '&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;beautiful&lt;/span&gt;??' 1970's Yellowstone inspired '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;work of art&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;or simply have an accident with the sledgehammer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, I know that touching the fireplace will then have a knock-on effect ... new fire maybe? Folks admire our stove and say things like "wow - that's unique" or "is that a vintage stove"? I simply reply that its the crappy stove which came with the house and I think it looks like it came off a steam engine. Its only saving grace is that it kicks out some serious heat in a wintertime (along with a ton of black soot which, gets into everything).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, of course, there's my wonderful 'blotter' carpet - original 1979 chestnut brown - nope, I'm not going to say any more about 'blotter' - those of you who've seen her, know how she is - and life will be a lot less carefree when she's not around ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting distracted by my list of home improvements.  I wanted to discuss being overwhelmed and procrastinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I've been wanting to start re-painting the Family Room all summer long. I kept putting it off and putting it off. Then, an opportunity arose ... and I put it off. Another opportunity ... I put it off. I was kind of frozen at the thought of 'all that work'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend, Craig simply picked up a paintbrush and began cutting in for me - just like that! No big deal! He doesn't see that we're going to be living in a mess for a few days, with no curtains and Family Room stuff strewn about the rest of the house. He just picks up the brush and starts painting. Of course, I'm not too far behind him with my roller (and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cadey&lt;/span&gt; behind me with hers)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could tell you of many instances that my husband has just needed to give me a push in the right direction!  He knew that by simply picking up the paintbrush and making that first brushstroke that I'd be there right behind him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How all this is true for me and my relationship with Jesus! He's waiting for me to make the first, small move and then He jumps in to fulfill my spirit and soul. Jesus has called me to obey several times in my own walk of faith. I struggle greatly to obey ANYBODY!! But, when things are laid upon my heart by means of the Holy Spirit, of course I struggle, but its a struggling to understand why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still put things off, pray, struggle, pray struggle, put off, pray, pray, pray ... come to a point of acceptance or understanding, and allow my heart to be changed, obey (or even simply strive to obey) and my life seems so much brighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like my Family Room ... I hope:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-7863178240546015726?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/7863178240546015726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=7863178240546015726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7863178240546015726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/7863178240546015726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/09/family-room.html' title='The Family Room'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-8401488596264377174</id><published>2008-08-24T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T21:59:32.238-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Childish Talk</title><content type='html'>Even though my kids are growing up - heck - one almost has his driver's licence!  We still use the childish and very cute pet names for items and stuff which, as little kids, they mispronounced.  Here's a list of some:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mulk&lt;/span&gt; = milk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Basketti&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bominase&lt;/span&gt; = spaghetti &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bolognese&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tra&lt;/span&gt;-bat = battery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tertis&lt;/span&gt; = Curtis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Pancar&lt;/span&gt; = &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Grampa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanks = thanks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Wossat&lt;/span&gt; fang? = what's that smell?&lt;br /&gt;"Tertis is a wierdo-headi-yack" = Cadence's term of endearment for her brother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our 2 favourites are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(From Cadence) ... No-nee = a word used to describe the feeling of touching something velvety, furry or silky.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Eg&lt;/span&gt;, toys, animals, the sheepskin rugs at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Ikea&lt;/span&gt; or my pj's.  When she was little, the word also incorporated the action of grinding her teeth - I think that it conjured up something emotional within her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(From Curtis) ... Testicle = &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Popsicle&lt;/span&gt; (ice lolly).  He was only 3 1/2 years old, but we still laugh about that one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope I gave you a chuckle, and I hope your family is as silly as mine!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-8401488596264377174?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/8401488596264377174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=8401488596264377174' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8401488596264377174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8401488596264377174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/08/childish-talk.html' title='Childish Talk'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-687927840666421918</id><published>2008-08-20T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T08:28:55.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A dog's life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SK2GV1oH2LI/AAAAAAAAAEs/lV3rPjIKPwE/s1600-h/BAILEY.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SK2GV1oH2LI/AAAAAAAAAEs/lV3rPjIKPwE/s320/BAILEY.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236989651432495282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SK2GWqksRII/AAAAAAAAAE0/7DfszIj5vZ8/s1600-h/DSCN0833.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SK2GWqksRII/AAAAAAAAAE0/7DfszIj5vZ8/s320/DSCN0833.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236989665645184130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   This week is always happy but tinged with sadness ... every year.  We remember the passing of our old dog, Bailey.  But then we celebrate the birthday of our new dog, Meg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bailey came to us as an answered prayer - literally!  I'd been in the depths of grief and depression for many months after losing my Dad.  I felt so empty inside, and I was seriously considering having another baby ... only one problem there - Craig didn't want to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we decided on getting a dog.  The kids and me visited PAWS twice a week, fell in love with a few dogs, but for many reasons, we were unable to adopt from PAWS.  We prayed at the reception area of PAWS for Jesus to lead us to our new family member, on several occasions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, my friend Carol called me.  She told me about a free dog in the Pickle Press (our local free classifieds newspaper).  The dog was Bailey - a lab mix - 18 months old - and she was free (many people were interested in her, so we left our phone number her owners, but didn't hold out much hope of even getting to look at her).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We immediately fell in love with Bailey - she was like a bigger version of Craig's Dad's dog, Sooty, and she was sweet.  We had to teach her lots of things - she was soooo submissive!  She learned quickly - not to eat the kids toys, to go outside to use the bathroom, not to pull on the leash and to be friendly to other dogs.  She was so gentle and affectionate and loved being part of our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began walking with her immediately - in the rain or shine - that was good for me.  My depression lifted as soon as she arrived in our home - it turned out that she needed us much more than I needed her though.  There had been some neglect in her life - physical touch was lacking, exercise was lacking, affection and love were missing.  She got all that and more from us.  She was the perfect dog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had her in our lives for just a few short years, but she was the centre of our family time and never really made any demands on us, except for food and exercise.  She was suddenly diagnosed with Leukemia after an episode of nose-bleeds, she'd spent a day underneath our deck - not wanting to come out.  There was nothing we could do, but to have her put out of her pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our lives were empty once more.  The kids didn't want to be home alone, I hated coming home to an empty house, I forced myself to walk and people would ask me where my dog was:( &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing to do was to get a puppy!  We'd found a breeder up in Canada with puppies born a couple of days after we lost Bailey.  The kids and I drove up one weekend to visit them - 11 little black balls of mischief!  We decided that yes, one of these pups would be ours.  We were waiting to get our pick - it felt like forever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We bought puppy books and videos to educate ourselves and Cadence needed to go out and buy puppy toys.  My Mum suggested we call our new dog "D-fer" which we liked, but since we were getting a female, shouldn't it be "B-fer"?  Anyways, the name Meg seemed to be a winner - the first dog in my life was a Meg - my grandparents dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Meg came home at 10 weeks of age.  What a nightmare!  It was like having a baby again!  Having to get up during the night to go potty, watching her like a hawk all day long.  Worrying about her when I went to work.  It was stressful, but looking back it was also a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's such a trusting dog, because we're all she's ever known.  We've never been mean to her, never hurt her, so she has no reason to fear us.  She is just as loving as Bailey and definitely much more affectionate and she loves to cuddle, sitting on our laps, being cradled like a baby even!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She lives for love, food and walks ... well, that actually should read food, food, food, love, walks!  We all adore her and wonder where her 3 years have gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll quite often think about Bailey - even now, especially when I'm outside, working around the trees in my yard.  Her ashes are scattered around my trees - she'd spend hours sitting under them, waiting for the squirrels to venture down.  Then, as I'm bending down to prune a plant or do some weeding, I'll get side-swiped or even 2 paws on the back of my shoulders and get pushed to the ground, or "Megged" as we call it.  A face full of kisses and I'm immediately brought back into the present day ... Bailey would NEVER have done that!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-687927840666421918?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/687927840666421918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=687927840666421918' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/687927840666421918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/687927840666421918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/08/dogs-life.html' title='A dog&apos;s life'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SK2GV1oH2LI/AAAAAAAAAEs/lV3rPjIKPwE/s72-c/BAILEY.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-2188844781758915614</id><published>2008-08-12T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:32:02.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Camping Lessons</title><content type='html'>I'm 'camping' on the camping theme for another day.  I came up with some valuable lessons - all of which happened to me and I wish to pass my knowledge on to you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.    Do not go camping if there is the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;slightest&lt;/span&gt; chance of the tail-end of a hurricane around (even if the weather reporter strongly doubts that it will hit the area).  This may cause you to: spend the night in your vehicle, or sleep with total strangers in their tent, or even sleep on the floor of the shower-block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.    Do drink plenty of water when camping in the summertime.  If you only drink beer, you will dehydrate, get constipated and have to spend two days of your vacation inside the tent, in agony, waiting for the laxatives to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.    Whilst hanging around the camp-site for your "movement", do not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fraternize&lt;/span&gt; with other campers.  They &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;could&lt;/span&gt; be terrorists, plotting to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;assassinate&lt;/span&gt; a governor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.    Do not let your dog see the dozens of cute little bunnies all over the camp-site.  Especially when the lights are shut off at 11pm.  Your dog will try to eat and dig her way out of the tent ... all night long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.    Just because you're camping at a small, rural camp-site at the other end of the country (albeit a very small country), it doesn't mean that you're not going to bump into somebody you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.    Do not use &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;baby wipes&lt;/span&gt; to wash your hands immediately before putting in your contact lenses ... believe me ... you'll regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.    Unfortunately, no matter how quickly you zip and unzip that door, mosquitoes are still going to get inside the tent - and feast on your blood all night long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you learned something from my mistakes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-2188844781758915614?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/2188844781758915614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=2188844781758915614' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/2188844781758915614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/2188844781758915614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/08/camping-lessons.html' title='Camping Lessons'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-742428623212207236</id><published>2008-08-11T22:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T22:46:22.684-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My daughter, the 12 year old photographer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SKEjbpzcywI/AAAAAAAAAEk/n3yerxAxD5g/s1600-h/IMG_4093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SKEjbpzcywI/AAAAAAAAAEk/n3yerxAxD5g/s320/IMG_4093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233503199966317314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SKEi_mYjoxI/AAAAAAAAAEM/h3NxXdkGQhE/s1600-h/IMG_4065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SKEi_mYjoxI/AAAAAAAAAEM/h3NxXdkGQhE/s320/IMG_4065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233502718011876114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SKEjAZ4hapI/AAAAAAAAAEc/TiOo3JycedU/s1600-h/IMG_4097+rev1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SKEjAZ4hapI/AAAAAAAAAEc/TiOo3JycedU/s320/IMG_4097+rev1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233502731836156562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence took these photos last weekend when we went camping ... she blows me away with her talent ... enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-742428623212207236?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/742428623212207236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=742428623212207236' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/742428623212207236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/742428623212207236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-daughter-12-year-old-photographer.html' title='My daughter, the 12 year old photographer'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SKEjbpzcywI/AAAAAAAAAEk/n3yerxAxD5g/s72-c/IMG_4093.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-6998442184840654661</id><published>2008-08-06T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T08:40:20.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meesh, Meg (x2) and Mullens</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;I was feeling flat on Saturday – both emotionally and physically.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’d just said goodbye to Michelle and Megan late on Friday evening.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We enjoyed a 2-week whirlwind visit from them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It passed by so quickly – I’m sad that it was only for a fortnight.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;I have always enjoyed Michelle’s company.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She and Craig are only 14 months apart in age and so they are close through their shared childhood experiences and have similar character traits.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She’s a warm, tender-hearted lady and has turned into much more of a sister to me over the years than my own sister (but that is another blog entry in itself).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;But I just want to say that I enjoy all my sisters-in-law (all 5 of them).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think that living away from home and the missing relationship I have with my own sister, Sindee, makes me appreciate family even more.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Michelle and her 19 year old daughter, Megan first visited &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Vancouver&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; for 4 days. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Megan, or Meg for short was a good sport over sharing her name with our dog!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;– And yes, that did cause some laughter and strange answers, especially when I was talking to my Meg, ie, “Meg, let’s go outside for a pee-pee” or “Meg, want to go for a walk”?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The dog was NOT named after my niece; she was named after my Nana &amp;amp; Grandad’s dog – an all black border-collie mix.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;They spent the remainder of their vacation with us – visiting Seattle numerous times (Pike Place, Downtown, Pioneer Square, Space Needle, Alki Beach, the Waterfront, the zoo), Whidbey Island, Hurricane Ridge, Leavenworth and shopping Alderwood Mall and the Outlet Mall). &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;One image of Meg I’ll never forget is of when we turned the corner from driving up to Hurricane Ridge – up onto the plateau … and “BOOM” the view came into view!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It took her breath away and she had to stop and stare to drink it all in … not at all what she was expecting!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think she was impressed.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;We were exhausted!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not by them, but from being tourists again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They were so easy to entertain.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;They left on Friday night.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;We’d also agreed to go camping with friends out near Rockport on Saturday.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All I wanted to do was spend a day in my PJs on Saturday.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But Craig pushed us out of the door.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And I’m glad he did.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;We found a little piece of paradise!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The peace and quiet, the friends, the river, the sun … it was just what my spirit needed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The kids went off and hung out with their friends – it was a true break.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thanks Jim &amp;amp; Charlene for everything!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We can’t wait to be invited back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Wingdings;font-size:14;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;So, we’re home now, thoroughly refreshed - and some of us resemble dot-to-dot puzzles – thanks to the mosquitoes – some were almost the size of dragonflies!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-6998442184840654661?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/6998442184840654661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=6998442184840654661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6998442184840654661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6998442184840654661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/08/meesh-meg-x2-and-mullens.html' title='Meesh, Meg (x2) and Mullens'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-1228656451461769375</id><published>2008-07-28T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T08:20:36.185-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Diet'/><title type='text'>My Best Friend</title><content type='html'>My best friend is brown, flat, 7 inches in diameter and called a whole-wheat tortilla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit it - I have an obsession with food! Nowadays, its an obsession with juggling my daily totals of 7 grains, 3 fruits, 3 veg, 2 milk, 2 meat and 2 fat (serving sizes) and I do really well with all but one - grains/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;carbs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE pasta, bread, spuds, rice, oh yeah, and beer ... all to my downfall!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I choose a tortilla over ANYTHING else at mealtime. I know that there's only 1 1/2 serving of grains in there (a serving size is 15g), so then I can eat a few bites of something else, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, spuds, rice, chips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I serve them a variety of ways:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.    Microwave them with spinach &amp;amp; cheese &amp;amp; salsa&lt;br /&gt;2.    Toast them and folded with the same ingredients for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;quesedilla&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.    Toasted, rolled up with deli-meat and cheese - on my George "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Formby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Foreman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;) grill.  You                 Brits will understand the George &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Formby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; reference, but for you Americans, look him up on                 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;YouTube&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - he's one of Northern England's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;heros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (if you're over 70 yrs old).&lt;br /&gt;4.    Toasted to resemble an Indian &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;pappadum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.    Toasted and cut up to resemble dipping chips&lt;br /&gt;6.    Individual pizza bases&lt;br /&gt;7.    Baked with ground turkey breast and enchilada sauce - only if I'm feeling extravagant                    though!&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is off-limits as tortilla filling - so long as it doesn't get too wet when being heated.  They're great for using up leftovers and making food go further&lt;br /&gt;8.    Cold with PB&amp;amp;J which is great for school lunches and picnics&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Craig jokes about my 101 ways to serve tortillas - I can get very creative in the kitchen. There are only 2 choices for my family at mealtime - take it, or leave it and the family always seem to clean their plates and serving dishes:) I always make plenty of food - they help themselves - and eat more than I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids call me the 'Food Nazi' too (all in fun), but I worry about them and the amount of sugar they consume in a cookie here, chips there, soda or juice ... which, by the way, probably isn't any more than YOU consume. I worry because its in their genetic make-up, both my grandmothers, my mother, me ... they were both big babies when they were born ... so the odds are stacking up against them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only wish I could buy these tortillas from the 'used bread shop' as my friend Allison calls it! The bread outlet sells white, but not whole wheat tortillas (me and my short arms and deep pockets again). BTW, they sell cheap &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Tullys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; coffee too, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Bobolli&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; pizza bases and sugar-free cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have invented other ways that you eat tortillas, or have a good recipe to actually make them from scratch, please send me a comment, or if you'd like more information on the diabetes guidelines, drop me a line.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-1228656451461769375?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/1228656451461769375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=1228656451461769375' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1228656451461769375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1228656451461769375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-best-friend.html' title='My Best Friend'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-3927910546381340338</id><published>2008-07-16T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:10:53.896-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photos'/><title type='text'>Flower Fairy</title><content type='html'>I promised some photos taken by my daughter, Cadence.  Here are some from the Spring.  I love this collection of 3 - she's like a little flower fairy nestled in amongst my flower garden!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SH4SgpaOglI/AAAAAAAAADo/0GPen-wGGZ0/s1600-h/IMG_2017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SH4SgpaOglI/AAAAAAAAADo/0GPen-wGGZ0/s200/IMG_2017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223632969877324370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Her favourite subjects to photograph are: 1. Flowers. 2. Friends. 3. The dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SH4ShSMMogI/AAAAAAAAADw/Qg-7N0ofoV8/s1600-h/IMG_2018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SH4ShSMMogI/AAAAAAAAADw/Qg-7N0ofoV8/s200/IMG_2018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223632980824334850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SH4Sh4t7zRI/AAAAAAAAAD4/R5zm345KVXo/s1600-h/IMG_2024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SH4Sh4t7zRI/AAAAAAAAAD4/R5zm345KVXo/s200/IMG_2024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223632991166385426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-3927910546381340338?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/3927910546381340338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=3927910546381340338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3927910546381340338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3927910546381340338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/07/flower-fairy.html' title='Flower Fairy'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SH4SgpaOglI/AAAAAAAAADo/0GPen-wGGZ0/s72-c/IMG_2017.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-4408214843146853035</id><published>2008-07-15T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:10:54.065-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>No, I'm not wearing my 12 year old daughter's clothes ... yet!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SIZGUzbQ_QI/AAAAAAAAAEA/mT9sayXjijk/s1600-h/SEACTR2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SIZGUzbQ_QI/AAAAAAAAAEA/mT9sayXjijk/s200/SEACTR2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225941740825935106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I mentioned in a previous post that I've lost 30 lbs since last summer.  My weight loss began just before Thanksgiving (November) last year when I was diagnosed with Type II Diabetes.  This came as no surprise to me - I'd had gestational diabetes with both my pregnancies, and had been described as "glucose intolerant" by my doctor for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It came at a bad time for me though ... I'd just had implant surgery on my gums ... and I turned 40 :(  For a time there, I was fragile and became acutely aware that I had to "own" this for the rest of my life - and that I am responsible for what I eat - and that I have to learn what is good for my body and what is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd lost 10 lbs by the New Year and have "whittled" away another 20lbs since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ironically, last summer, I spent quite a lot of money on new clothes, resigned to the fact that I was almost 40 and just gaining some extra weight.  I gave lots of my old skinny clothes to charity and prepared myself to enter into a new decade.  I wore a size 10 (UK 12), but I was in denial of actually being a size larger than that, as I'd squeeeeeeze into my jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was excited about the new style of the empire waist/babydoll tops in the stores, because they'd hide my "muffin top" (or "mushroom" as I wrongly described it to my kids once, who rolled around the floor with laughter so much that it has now become known as a "mushroom").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still loosing weight, my blood glucose levels are still elevated even with my diet and medication and this can lead me to feel like I'm not in control and to feel down about it.  I have to remind myself that the big picture is in the form of a 3-monthly blood test called A1C, which will tell me how my overall blood glucose levels have been ... and of course, the grace of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend asked me about my weight loss on Sunday at Church, and told me not to get any thinner.  He asked if I was wearing my daughter's clothes!  That made me laugh!  Being on the outside and looking at my weight-loss must be alarming.  I am eating food and plenty of it, just ask my husband:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the upside, I have so much more energy now, don't get headaches or that afternoon 'sleepy' feeling and I'm feeling like I'm nowhere near 40, plus Craig can't keep his hands off me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-4408214843146853035?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/4408214843146853035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=4408214843146853035' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4408214843146853035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/4408214843146853035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/07/no-im-not-wearing-my-12-year-old.html' title='No, I&apos;m not wearing my 12 year old daughter&apos;s clothes ... yet!'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SIZGUzbQ_QI/AAAAAAAAAEA/mT9sayXjijk/s72-c/SEACTR2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-738994309341471961</id><published>2008-07-13T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T21:59:29.805-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Curtis'/><title type='text'>Skagit Valley Highland Games &amp; Celtic Festival</title><content type='html'>Curtis competed in the Junior (under 18's) this past weekend.  The air is called Niel Gowe's Lamentation for James Moray of Abercurnie, then his set of march, strathspey &amp;amp; reel are Father John MacMillan of Barra, Belladrum House &amp;amp; The Spey in Spate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c85cf6e83b386e91" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc85cf6e83b386e91%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331542652%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D415D20EE2D1521A98DF3E4CD3C656E32F70DDC1C.32AC00316F90AF638CB144D0C2B7FF93C8CF2F7D%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc85cf6e83b386e91%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DZaTfrecDst9ZxNzcuJccwgPRgxo&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc85cf6e83b386e91%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331542652%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D415D20EE2D1521A98DF3E4CD3C656E32F70DDC1C.32AC00316F90AF638CB144D0C2B7FF93C8CF2F7D%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc85cf6e83b386e91%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DZaTfrecDst9ZxNzcuJccwgPRgxo&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-738994309341471961?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c85cf6e83b386e91&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/738994309341471961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=738994309341471961' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/738994309341471961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/738994309341471961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/07/skagit-valley-highland-games-celtic.html' title='Skagit Valley Highland Games &amp; Celtic Festival'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-6149381001730336979</id><published>2008-07-10T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:10:54.301-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>my HOT husband</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SHbl4_-iBpI/AAAAAAAAADU/MaAdYXbDzzM/s1600-h/whittlefam45.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SHbl4_-iBpI/AAAAAAAAADU/MaAdYXbDzzM/s320/whittlefam45.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221613585391814290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My husband, Craig, is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; HOT!  Well...I mean...I think he's hot (but I'm talking about his body temperature type of hotness today).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For most of the year, I can cuddle up to him in bed and warm up my hands, feet, nose (yeah, I admit it, I always have a cold nose) and another area which I won't mention.  I make Craig giggle and squeal with my coldness - sometimes he shrieks so loud that he disturbs the kids and the dog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BUT ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time of year, the roles are reversed.  Craig cuddles up to me because I'm so cool - he tells me that its "repayment time" for the rest of the year!  Its a good job that he falls asleep so quickly (in under a minute), because I can't stand his hotness in the summer.  We bought a king-size bed a few years ago, so I simply move over a little more to get out of his hot zone ... and he's sleeping like a baby and he doesn't even know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were first married, we rented a flat (apartment) for a year.  It was in a converted Victorian house.  It was all self-contained, we had 2 rooms (Living room with a huge bay-window and bedroom) and 2 box-rooms with no windows as a kitchen and a bathroom - all joined together with a hallway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We married in May (1989), so it was spring when we found this flat.  We failed to notice that the only means of heating the place was a small gas wall heater in the living room.  By October, we noticed that it was getting much cooler, by November we'd discovered that we needed more than our love to keep us warm! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We invented another use for the hairdryer ... We would take turns blowing hot air into the bed with the hairdryer.  One of us would be in the bed, getting all the warmth, and the other one of us was standing (shivering) at the bottom of the bed with the hairdryer pointing under the quilt.  We'd argue over whose turn it was, but it was always more beneficial if Craig was already in the bed because of his warmth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what our first Christmas present was to ourselves ... an electric blanket!  Very romantic, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back, we've always been able to laugh at ourselves and our situations.  We may be as different as chalk and cheese in many ways but our humour &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(no, its not a spelling mistake, British people spell it that way) &lt;/span&gt;has grown so very similar over the years.  We finally 'get' each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wondering, though, if he'll be laughing when I begin to experience hot flashes ... those will be coming soon ... I'd better suggest we get a ceiling fan for our bedroom remodel too :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-6149381001730336979?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/6149381001730336979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=6149381001730336979' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6149381001730336979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6149381001730336979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-hot-husband.html' title='my HOT husband'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SHbl4_-iBpI/AAAAAAAAADU/MaAdYXbDzzM/s72-c/whittlefam45.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-6232888893710507737</id><published>2008-07-06T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:10:55.256-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Strawberry Fields Forever ... and ever ... and ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SHGDyJ6ttJI/AAAAAAAAAC0/hbreXFs3q3g/s1600-h/IMG_2937.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SHGDyJ6ttJI/AAAAAAAAAC0/hbreXFs3q3g/s320/IMG_2937.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220098340777997458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SHGDyg3JPDI/AAAAAAAAAC8/JitAoh6pxgk/s1600-h/IMG_2950.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SHGDyg3JPDI/AAAAAAAAAC8/JitAoh6pxgk/s320/IMG_2950.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220098346937039922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SHGDzEnhg1I/AAAAAAAAADE/QIpcKMM5wf8/s1600-h/IMG_2949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SHGDzEnhg1I/AAAAAAAAADE/QIpcKMM5wf8/s320/IMG_2949.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220098356535198546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We went strawberry picking yesterday!  We took a quick drive to Biringer Farms in Marysville, about 20 minutes north of us.  Well, it is about 20 minutes if you know where you're going!  Took us a little longer:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a trolley ride out to the field then, within 20 minutes, we had what looked like half a ton of big, beautiful shiny red berries.  They were lovely and clean, thanks to the 24 hour thunder and rain storm which hit us last week.  Oh, yeah, and we ate probably another half ton when we were picking them (they were soooo good).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had strawberry shortcake last night, berries for breakfast and berries at lunch, I can only eat half a cup of fruit at a time, so I'm freezing the rest of them (before they go bad) and we can put them into smoothies from now until .... Christmas probably:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raspberries will be at their peak in a couple of weeks, so I'm hoping to go back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Craig%20Whittle/My%20Documents/My%20Pictures/summer08/IMG_2937.JPG" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-6232888893710507737?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/6232888893710507737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=6232888893710507737' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6232888893710507737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6232888893710507737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/07/strawberry-fields-forever-and-ever-and.html' title='Strawberry Fields Forever ... and ever ... and ever'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SHGDyJ6ttJI/AAAAAAAAAC0/hbreXFs3q3g/s72-c/IMG_2937.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-8704089421370371448</id><published>2008-07-03T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T20:13:55.216-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><title type='text'>My Voice</title><content type='html'>For those of you who know me, I'm a pretty quiet gal.  I don't say much - I know that some of you think I'm shy, I've even been accused of being "stuck-up/snooty", but I am neither!  I am very down to earth, non-judgemental, plain-speaking and easy-going, but I need for you to understand where I'm coming from:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate my PHYSICAL voice!  I always have, even when I lived in Hull.  If you're my family, you'll notice how my inflection has become Americanized over the years living here,  but I still detest hearing my voice.  Its not that I hate the Hull dialect - its great! (If you live there).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have a slight speech impediment - not a major lisp - I just have problems pronouncing my "ch", "j" and "s".  I had speech therapy as an elementary schooler, which was OK, but it was a half-day out of school, (which meant I missed Art Class).  In middle-school I had some horrible teachers who'd ridicule me in front of my class-mates - making me stand up and pronounce what I'd just said, but CORRECTLY (which of course, I couldn't do ... they assumed I was being lazy).  Kids, of course, were quick to catch on to this, and they were just plain mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living away from home has proved to be a challenge for me in this area too.  Folks over here are so endeared to ANY foreign form of the English language (they don't hear the 'lower class' northern sounding voice I possess).  People tell me that they could listen to me speaking all day long - either that, or they try to seduce me and my "sexy" voice!  After 15 years (and now feeling like a local), it gets OLD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In certain circumstances, I choose not to speak, or I get my kids to speak for me.  I just don't want the attention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people, no matter how hard I try, just cannot understand me.  Then I get flustered at having to repeat myself and my childhood insecurities come flooding back ... and my words stumble and I BLUSH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I KNOW my voice isn't perfect, but my dialect, my challenges and insecurities are a core part of who I am.  I could work on this area and pay money to sound 'nicer', but I feel in a way that its a  'badge' I wear.  You're either going to like me or not and I'm not going to try too hard either way for you to make up your mind - I like to think that I am kind hearted and I would like to say that my heart speaks louder than my voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm just starting to discover my inner voice ... through blogging:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-8704089421370371448?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/8704089421370371448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=8704089421370371448' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8704089421370371448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8704089421370371448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-voice.html' title='My Voice'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-1966610277530754403</id><published>2008-07-01T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T19:44:49.764-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>The Shape of my Heart</title><content type='html'>I drove home yesterday afternoon from visiting a friend.  I had a heavy heart.  I arrived home and saw my husband, Craig, busying himself with preparations for some more friends coming over later in the evening and I just needed a hug.  I was teary-eyed with emotion from contemplating some big changes going on in our life right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure Craig thought I was PMT-ing, but no, I was grieving ... the upcoming move of a good friend (and her family).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for my friends that they're moving on to bigger things.  I'm excited about their new adventure!  We've experienced many, many, many good friends move away (its not like they're moving, for example, to England!)  We do go back a long way and they were instrumental in saving our lives, gave us hope on many occasions, and so have earned our utmost trust and respect.  We share very similar hearts, my friend and me ... she's been such a blessing in my life ... and I love her so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am being selfish (grief can be selfish in a way).  I am going to miss her!  I know that if I don't keep my emotions in check that I could become bitter - and I can't allow myself to do that!  Our friendship is too important to let Satan destroy it.  I'm praying for my friend to be strong ... I think she needs so much strength and comfort right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her friendship is worth so much to me and I'm going to struggle through and be determined to keep it alive and remain in her life.  She's never met a Yorkshire Lass before and I don't think that she realizes that Yorkshire Folk take their time when choosing their friends, but when they do, they do it wisely and for LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a closet Toby Mac fan - and I'm quoting from the song "Face of the Earth" on the portable sounds cd:&lt;br /&gt;...Its been way too long and we've come too far for you to drop out (of) my life like a falling star... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and I wholeheartedly mean that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy your evening!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-1966610277530754403?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/1966610277530754403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=1966610277530754403' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1966610277530754403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1966610277530754403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/07/shape-of-my-heart.html' title='The Shape of my Heart'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-8474377798545142314</id><published>2008-06-29T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T18:41:00.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Int-it-ot" (Hull Speak for "Isn't it hot")</title><content type='html'>Well, its 84 degrees F/29 degrees C in the Family Room ... blumin' boilin'!  All the windows have been open on the shady side of the house ... all to no avail.  I think I'm going to have to succumb to the fact that we need the air conditioning ON!  Craig has been whining all afternoon about how much of a 'skin flint' (aka miser) I am.  He's now getting hurtful ... comparing me to having short arms, deep pockets and also being as tight as a 'laggy' band (elastic band) around a cows backside ... monetarily speaking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back home in the UK insect screens weren't even an option.  Instead, we had curly paper insect tapes to hang from the ceiling light and a plastic ribbon curtain at the back door - both in an attempt to keep the bugs at bay whilst keeping the house cool.  Of course, bugs would get inside, and then there would be the fun with the newspaper - swatting, marking the wall with either newsprint or bug-guts ... and getting to the dead insect before the dog got to it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, of course, there was the humidity ... sticky, sticky (always a bad hair day) kind of heat and the fact that all houses are brick built, which holds heat longer, so you don't cool down at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bugs still get into our house here - we don't know how ... I blame the dog and her constant in-out-in-out-in mentality.  She has a very short attention span (my son says she has ADD and I have to admit that sometimes, I think he's correct).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I was saying, Craig is complaining about the heat.  He watched his Euro 2008 soccer final between Germany and Spain with the fan pointed directly at him, shorts off, bottle of water ... looked more like he was playing the game.  In his  mind, he was playing the game ... and coaching ... and refereeing!  He's exhausted now - he'd better go take a cold shower, and I'll put on the a/c and make his day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-8474377798545142314?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/8474377798545142314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=8474377798545142314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8474377798545142314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/8474377798545142314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/06/int-it-ot-hull-speak-for-isnt-it-hot.html' title='&quot;Int-it-ot&quot; (Hull Speak for &quot;Isn&apos;t it hot&quot;)'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-1840263581629286213</id><published>2008-06-28T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:10:55.638-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mukilteo'/><title type='text'>Mukilteo Beach</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SGcOUxsdVYI/AAAAAAAAAAs/H0eCxmi72MI/s1600-h/IMG_1851.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SGcOUxsdVYI/AAAAAAAAAAs/H0eCxmi72MI/s320/IMG_1851.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217154443431990658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some graffiti is worth snapping!  There's a young lady in my family who loves taking photos.  This is the first of many fabulous shots she's taken this spring and summer.  I'll share more when she can decide which ones she wants to share (honestly, we have hundreds).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-1840263581629286213?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/1840263581629286213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=1840263581629286213' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1840263581629286213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/1840263581629286213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/06/mukilteo-beach.html' title='Mukilteo Beach'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SGcOUxsdVYI/AAAAAAAAAAs/H0eCxmi72MI/s72-c/IMG_1851.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-3439877727741019897</id><published>2008-06-27T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T12:14:17.134-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Living Simply</title><content type='html'>I strive to live simply nowadays.  Haven't always lived like that - used to be @ 100 mph.  Poor kids!  We were always on the go - preschool, swimming, baseball, soccer, me at the gym, etc.  Plus Craig worked L-O-N-G hours, and weekends.  I kept my life with the kids busy because my home-life stank!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life changed 9 years ago in a couple of ways.  Firstly, I felt a calling to find out who Jesus is and what Christianity is truly all about.  Secondly, I lost my father - suddenly and without warning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dad was a good man.  A good friend.  I adored him.  We shared a great relationship, dry sense of humour, pessimistic to the core he was!  He was a tall, slim man, dark and handsome ... and my son has his eyes.  I loved that man (and I know that he loved me) - I love and cherish the memories I now have of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was his time to go ... but, how could I move on?  Jesus was there to pick me up, superglue my heart and answer my prayers.  Sounds simple now.  It was messy - 9 or 10 months of being in a pit.  I can't talk much more about this (still hurts me somewhat), I just never want to go back to that place of such sadness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, I've simplified my life - to give my children memories of having time with their parents.  Its what my parents gave to me as a child and I look back now with such happy memories of baking, gardening, sewing, 16 mile bicycle rides, fishing, wood-turning, simply sitting in the backyard on a summer's day playing cards and eating home-made "ice-lollies" (popsicles), going to Beverley Westwood on a Sunday and eating "99" ice-cream cones and running down the hills :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't do all these things I learned as a kid with my own, but we have new memories in the making: walking the dog to Starbucks, scrapbooking, making music together, toasting marshmallows and making s'mores in our backyard firepit and hopefully some more to discover over this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's s saying which goes something like "Don't be too busy making a living that you forget to make a life".  I'm simply trying to live life so that I can imprint something positive and memorable on my children's hearts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-3439877727741019897?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/3439877727741019897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=3439877727741019897' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3439877727741019897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/3439877727741019897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/06/living-simply.html' title='Living Simply'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-6918888339521268454</id><published>2008-06-26T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:10:55.840-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>A Year Ago ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SGQKn-53mEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gCjQuEnoQGc/s1600-h/DSCN2603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SGQKn-53mEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gCjQuEnoQGc/s320/DSCN2603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216305950418769986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A year ago we were on vacation.  Back in our home town - Hull, East Yorkshire.  Looking back, all I can remember is laughter, rain (flooding to be more exact) and the faces of my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met new babies and toddlers who are now part of our family ... strangers to us.  Our memories of them are frozen in time ... until the next time we see them.  This is the one true regret I have - not being around to enjoy new life - a sure sign of a healthy family.  I should have gotten used to it by now - 15 years away from 'home', but some things just don't get any easier with time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year ago, I felt happy that I'd lost 8 lbs for my vacation ... I gained that all back by the time I departed from the UK thanks to beer, chocolate, beer, fish &amp;amp; chips, beer, Indian, beer, Chinese takeout, beer, etc.  I now weigh 30lbs less than a year ago, but I'll talk about that another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year is no time at all.  It's flown by!  My daughter is about to become a teenager, my son is about to take his driving test, I'm now a whole DECADE older, I've loved my husband for EXACTLY half of his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Changes, changes, changes ... life is an adventure - I'm so thankful for changes, big and small.  Some challenge me, some just roll off me, but they all change me in some way, hopefully, for the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-6918888339521268454?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/6918888339521268454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=6918888339521268454' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6918888339521268454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/6918888339521268454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/06/year-ago.html' title='A Year Ago ...'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-EvwxR1c-o/SGQKn-53mEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gCjQuEnoQGc/s72-c/DSCN2603.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1670542187951749710.post-480997868619183937</id><published>2008-06-24T16:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T07:40:21.531-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mileage'/><title type='text'>Almost 5000 miles (and 24 hours or so)</title><content type='html'>I've been wanting to do this for a while ... No, NOT travel the 4952.32 miles from Seattle to Kingston upon Hull again, but set up this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plan is for family and friends to be able to view photos of me and my family and keep up to date with our happenings, so that we don't feel so distant.  And for friends over here, you might get to know us all a little better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to be entertaining, authentic and truthful as I blog my walk in this world with my husband, 2 growing kids and dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK ... this is a great day to begin!&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1670542187951749710-480997868619183937?l=4952me2u.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/feeds/480997868619183937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1670542187951749710&amp;postID=480997868619183937' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/480997868619183937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1670542187951749710/posts/default/480997868619183937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://4952me2u.blogspot.com/2008/06/almost-5000-miles-and-24-hours-or-so.html' title='Almost 5000 miles (and 24 hours or so)'/><author><name>Lisa Whittle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00215980110327407099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
