tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87290974075256553402024-02-19T07:02:36.591-05:00waynes3girlsstephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.comBlogger617125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-4212902508288719272011-06-26T21:20:00.001-04:002011-06-26T21:21:41.239-04:00I'm movingNo not literally but in the cyber world I have a new address:<br />
<a href="http://welchstuff.wordpress.com/">http://welchstuff.wordpress.com/</a><br />
<br />
I switched over to wordpress. I'm not sure what the deal is with Blogger, but I've had several issues and decided to make a switch. Now you can actually leave a comment if you are so inclined.<br />
<br />
Jump on over there and see what's happening to waynes3girls!stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-2461879019328997442011-06-25T10:17:00.000-04:002011-06-25T10:17:22.253-04:00Book on CDI think I'm old. Seriously, in the last year I have heard and seen myself say and do things that are considered old, for example:<br />
<br />
I've eaten oatmeal for the last few months every morning. Not the flavored packets, but the steel cut, stir for 2 minutes on the stove top oatmeal.<br />
<br />
I've been hooked on listening to NPR on the way to work.<br />
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I have been scoping out hand lotions to help me deal with these large brown spots on the tops of my hands.<br />
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Last night I looked at the clock and told Wayne, "No wonder I'm tired, it's 10:30"<br />
<br />
But this last one, well, it pretty much seals the deal.....I'm hooked on books on CD. <br />
<br />
It all started innocently enough. There was a book I wanted to read and it had been sitting on my bedisde table for about 3 weeks. I seriously had no time. That is a sad thing when you no longer have enough time to read, but the truth is, I didn't.<br />
One day at work while I was cleaning out a book shelf I happened upon "The Magic Hour" audiobook by Kristin Hannah. The book on my shelf is by the same author and I knew I like her writings. As I announced my discovery to my coworkers, my young sweet student worker, Jessica said, "Yeah my grandma listens to those all the time in the car."<br />
<br />
So I discreetly slid it into my bag, and said nothing to anyone........and now I'm hooked. As I slid the CD in the car stereo, I was aware that this was just one more step I was taking down the road of aging. What's next? Geritol and estrogen patches?<br />
<br />
The story is captivating and I am now taking the long way home trying to squeeze in the last 3 minutes of the story. Ginny mocked me yesterday as I slowly inched up the drive in my car. It was a critical moment and I dare not turn off the car in the middle of the court scene. She went inside while I waited with A/C full blast, wasting gas to hear which way the judge will rule in the custody of the wolf girl. (too complicated for me to explain here, you have to read the book)<br />
<br />
So unashamedly I embrace audiobook. Wayne is now never allowed to speak in car, he gets dirty looks if he mocks the voices of my beloved characters and I must somehow break him from asking me details of the stories when we drive to the store. He is becoming as captivated as me.<br />
<br />
So add this to the list of my "growing older but fully embracing the benefits" list. By the way, I am taking Leslie to college orientation on Monday. It's a two and half hour drive, but no worries, we are stopping at Cracker Barrel for breakfast. If I happen to browse the audiobook stand in the general store, don't mind me, I'm just looking for Nicholas Sparks.stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-11216083246673588832011-06-23T21:31:00.000-04:002011-06-23T21:31:23.593-04:00Good NightWayne and I have gotten into the habit of sitting on the back porch swing every evening, that is when it's not 5,000 degrees. It's a good time to relax, talk about our day and watch Willow chase birds and run around like a wild hoodlum. She somehow thinks that she is chasing every bird she sees fly overhead and she's off the porch and across the field like a bottle rocket. Ginger prefers to sniff around the porch and finally whine until Wayne lifts her up on the swing where she settles down between the two of us, content for one of us to scratch her ears.<br />
<br />
These warm summer evenings are the best part of the day. Unrushed, we talk quietly about the events of the day and pause to sip our iced tea. Some evenings there is little talk and more of a contented silence between us as we watch the summer clouds gather and feel that warm breeze promising a sprinkle of rain before we head in.<br />
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Tonight we decided the humid muggy night air was just too stifling for outside conversation. Wayne headed towards the recliner and Ginger made her way to her favorite spot, tucked in beside him. No doubt both settled in to watch the "Swamp People".<br />
<br />
I stayed out for just a minute longer. Although the air was thick and I felt beads of sweat begin to roll down my face, I turned in time to see this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKVlME5URNNxBX9iWEuk0p1G_0Us6JHfoWN6jaiEVSEAf24qeVCYboXq-W7cC_6gzCvGdk_ZIrFphRzbXIE2Rj7rxKP-ZK4yDGP1fqnMmUZKS0QcSldxgE6ESx-84ISJpyG6gnqwVoFDM/s1600/sunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKVlME5URNNxBX9iWEuk0p1G_0Us6JHfoWN6jaiEVSEAf24qeVCYboXq-W7cC_6gzCvGdk_ZIrFphRzbXIE2Rj7rxKP-ZK4yDGP1fqnMmUZKS0QcSldxgE6ESx-84ISJpyG6gnqwVoFDM/s1600/sunset.jpg" /></a></div>Yeah I know, poor quality picture, but in real life there was a brilliant streak of pink just above the inky black silhouette of trees. Enough contrast to make me strain my eyes and draw in a breath. Ever so quietly I hear the Father say,<br />
<br />
"Hey, how was your day? Did you hear me? Did you feel me? I was right there beside you, all day. It was a good day. I'm glad you walked with me, and that strip of pink in the sky? Well, that's just for you, I knew you'd love it."stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-38078016305688743642011-06-21T11:01:00.000-04:002011-06-21T11:01:28.758-04:00A little boy and his sisters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwO0WdYQHudaMsY-cRobY5JQlu5skxSOnI4y3lv9tkSzltnznaLf_MEAslPmS-BG08vrn9xNt8ZnaAXjKeLAAHVUCE76Py7jR8IToxdfgax7Yc1gyEDHKUKSogagqOdV5gRwqB4fa3O8I/s1600/scan0057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwO0WdYQHudaMsY-cRobY5JQlu5skxSOnI4y3lv9tkSzltnznaLf_MEAslPmS-BG08vrn9xNt8ZnaAXjKeLAAHVUCE76Py7jR8IToxdfgax7Yc1gyEDHKUKSogagqOdV5gRwqB4fa3O8I/s320/scan0057.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Once upon a time there was an adorable, wild, blond headed boy who was the baby in his family. He owned his mama's heart and was his daddy's little man. He had two older sisters. His eldest sister mothered him, and he terrorized the other sister. Life was happy for him.<br />
<br />
Every summer this family would celebrate being out of school by heading up to the mountains of Virginia,where the mother's family lived. For city kids, this was the best of times. The boy loved it most of all when his parents left him there with his big sisters. Although he loved to tease them, the boy loved his sisters, and they loved him. His summer days in Virginia made memories of the best kind. Working in Granny's garden, playing on the farm with his cousins, and riding Uncle Johnny's horse, these are the memories that come to life when he visits with the sisters.<br />
<br />
And somedays when he and his sisters are together, those memories are relived in such away that the rest of us see those days in vibrant colors. When I listen intently to stories that they tell, the details and endings are etched in my mind. I smile in anticicipation of the tales of those three children I know so well. I see their bare feet slapping along a dirt road. I hear their laughter across the green Virginia hills. I smile when I think of the good natured shoving and chatter that fills Granny's kitchen at supper time, everyone reaching for a piece of fried chicken.<br />
<br />
I never met Granny, or Mama. I would love to have been one of those carefree children splashing in the mountain stream. But when the boy and his sisters, now all grown, are together, and stomachs are full from a good meal, they stretch out, relax and the stories flow. And I am there. I see the children. I hear Granny fussing in her mountain twang. I see Mama, laughing at the antics of a wild little blond boy and I smile. He is a treasure that little blond boy. A treasure I know full well.stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-42052569627100843992011-06-18T13:20:00.000-04:002011-06-18T13:20:31.587-04:00All the makings of a perfect Saturday<div align="center">Sleeping late until Willow decided to lick my face at 8am</div><div align="center">Coffee with a cool breeze on the front porch</div><div align="center">Helping Wayne with a building project- our new chicken coop</div><div align="center">We didn't yell, throw anything or fuss</div><div align="center">"Bridges of Madison County" while I knit on my sweater</div><div align="center">Headed to the big town to eat at Outback</div><div align="center">Stopping by the yarn shop where they are having a 40% off sale</div><div align="center">Spending the afternoon with my three favorite people</div>stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-12546071993428184242011-06-16T10:21:00.000-04:002011-06-16T10:21:59.803-04:00Value<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJbIVo1LDIPsDUfqS_MBgAh-AkFQE-YylcTZ1ZCEQDaSIDq5SvpaLJYKJNxI5qTUUo_qKTuGHLXfKW-1IfDb3TaBB3kfbojzRJ4nkIoy9rhLKFsgKBWeITFe1jZlt49-KbL1Wg8bhcKRU/s1600/babylove.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJbIVo1LDIPsDUfqS_MBgAh-AkFQE-YylcTZ1ZCEQDaSIDq5SvpaLJYKJNxI5qTUUo_qKTuGHLXfKW-1IfDb3TaBB3kfbojzRJ4nkIoy9rhLKFsgKBWeITFe1jZlt49-KbL1Wg8bhcKRU/s320/babylove.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div>The things that really matter in life cannot be bought or sold. Those things can never be measured or packaged.<br />
<br />
The things that matter most in life can only be experienced from the heart. For how can you measure love? Who can package peace? How can you weigh the value of contentment?<br />
<br />
The true value of life is found in the quietness of a morning cup of coffee with the living word of God as He speaks deep into your soul. The value of a sweet babies breath is impossible to figure. Who could sell the worth of a long sweaty run that makes your limbs heavy but your heart and mind light? There is no way I would let go of the treasure of the Wayne's smile. My girls laughter is immeasureable. The feel of their arms around my neck, even now, especially now, are worth their weight in gold.stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-60828427987010460482011-06-14T14:09:00.000-04:002011-06-14T14:09:46.479-04:00Progress<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When I saw this yarn at Hobby Lobby I had to get it. It will make the best sweater ever!!!!I startyed on it as soona s I got home from my sister's house.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxlweqGAj0_o5yuHyCc-OinCT2ZBXAlmT-BVxg97AZaMJc6EJTkBiUU-AKQpx-ouLysMZK53NdK4kBwYFpaNI95gj0a_Gck9Ray186NK0nuiyVsqHjwrmjb7BqXaLP6I6bKcpRIS5Qux0/s1600/craft.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxlweqGAj0_o5yuHyCc-OinCT2ZBXAlmT-BVxg97AZaMJc6EJTkBiUU-AKQpx-ouLysMZK53NdK4kBwYFpaNI95gj0a_Gck9Ray186NK0nuiyVsqHjwrmjb7BqXaLP6I6bKcpRIS5Qux0/s320/craft.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm making progress alhtough I admit it's hard to stay motivated on a 100% wool sweater when it's so stinkin' hot outside. I keep telling myself I will be done and wearing this beauty on my way to the mountains this fall! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdRX0I_JT7flpgJG747Y4IhooukruD04XQ0N278TXG9UXElcLFP1EWvoGd9hxRA9fOsSYtciKCCLnWyaQOast5wewLNey8cyrMI1tHC7dvdpa0gRwpyV2Ypci0ANfCldR0Gsm9O38ZHo/s1600/mail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdRX0I_JT7flpgJG747Y4IhooukruD04XQ0N278TXG9UXElcLFP1EWvoGd9hxRA9fOsSYtciKCCLnWyaQOast5wewLNey8cyrMI1tHC7dvdpa0gRwpyV2Ypci0ANfCldR0Gsm9O38ZHo/s320/mail.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div>stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-47379801038844826002011-06-12T07:30:00.000-04:002011-06-12T07:30:47.570-04:00Thoughts on Rahab<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nJxrgWjZUPQWmKUytDIj2rDwLM3vji9y_acCgfqo9byhYlXBiGdraOYw-GKQSi1Uf1K10N79kwS_-BqCiV8BzQHrM8NC_JvXAb4GOWSOD2NUNv1OOqIeGLi-fSQrVNMSXGe5kEEM1GU/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nJxrgWjZUPQWmKUytDIj2rDwLM3vji9y_acCgfqo9byhYlXBiGdraOYw-GKQSi1Uf1K10N79kwS_-BqCiV8BzQHrM8NC_JvXAb4GOWSOD2NUNv1OOqIeGLi-fSQrVNMSXGe5kEEM1GU/s1600/images.jpg" t8="true" /></a></div>Our Sunday school class is exploring "Extraordinary Women" by John MacArthur for the next few weeks. Today we will study Rahab. What a gal! She had so many strikes against her yet managed to be used by God that it gives all of us hope, even those of us who judge her because we are already ahead of her in being used, after all, I'm not a prostitute. I love that the Bible never holds back. To be quite honest, the Bible is a compeletely R rated. I mean, how many churches are gonna explain to the preK kids what "harlot" is as they color their pictures of her? It tells the true real life stories of men and women at their best....and worst. I see myself over and over and yes, I see myself today in Rahab's story.<br />
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So what did I learn from Rahab?<br />
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- People will always remember your mistakes, sometimes all your life, but it doesn't have to define you.<br />
- When God gives you opportunities, do what you know to do until He tells you different.<br />
-When you define people at first impression, you lose out.<br />
-Let God write your story, He has a much better ending, or as Pastor Andy says. "It's not as important how you begin, it's how you end!"stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-11829050289875833102011-06-10T10:08:00.000-04:002011-06-10T10:08:28.497-04:00Back to life, Back to realityAfter spending a wonderful few days with these adorable cuties.... <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrq4uu77B2ZpD83YuQIKj7mL14WApwyIwyIN6f7_UA9OSwX4Hr2Jc1_4d7evTA3Y-JYFGGv93BtFFuqAJ7_ZDGLK6TYkNVOxikC28k1aW3WImSNHzJf5Qn21ppId85MglLWOvHo7n0Ho/s1600/baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrq4uu77B2ZpD83YuQIKj7mL14WApwyIwyIN6f7_UA9OSwX4Hr2Jc1_4d7evTA3Y-JYFGGv93BtFFuqAJ7_ZDGLK6TYkNVOxikC28k1aW3WImSNHzJf5Qn21ppId85MglLWOvHo7n0Ho/s320/baby.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a> <br />
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I figured it was time to get back into life full swing. I have decided to really enjoy this summer. No more mad rushing through days, going at break neck speed. No, this summer I will take it all in, read, knit, enjoy people, savor good food and get this 42 year old body ready for a marathon in November. <br />
<br />
Here's whats on my knitting needles: <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkhRZr3mkYBa1dwjln3KHyhkjaPaM8HgJFkzdP6eM1PVRvBNg-diFEoZIlnb-aCohuv_SgAxeduyHtd3GdrKVbbrUnGKJTYzJVFhIccudIY2MlSMXM3hHH-FvnKvuFlhEe5rNMHz9U0QI/s1600/owls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkhRZr3mkYBa1dwjln3KHyhkjaPaM8HgJFkzdP6eM1PVRvBNg-diFEoZIlnb-aCohuv_SgAxeduyHtd3GdrKVbbrUnGKJTYzJVFhIccudIY2MlSMXM3hHH-FvnKvuFlhEe5rNMHz9U0QI/s320/owls.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div>Now is that cute or what? I love the sweet little owls blinking at me on the yoke. My first attempt at a pullover, we'll see if it will be wearable by fall.<br />
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<br />
Finished reading this book recommended by my SIL. She loves to read as much as I do and she always recommends books to me that turn out to be spellbinding. This was no exception. Wonderful book! Read it this summer! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBj1aAU6VoEwWNFSuFwIuZvAkHAwO0B8Dt7JRAk6_Nsa9Bb2jhLLt71AgzEG_ShBHrsK5cxZ6IDnANWaofsZyiB6nYZBOqMtvCqKtBOh5NhhHlVZ7hBep4iuACUy5IFKsZkWxFYqjgJak/s1600/help.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBj1aAU6VoEwWNFSuFwIuZvAkHAwO0B8Dt7JRAk6_Nsa9Bb2jhLLt71AgzEG_ShBHrsK5cxZ6IDnANWaofsZyiB6nYZBOqMtvCqKtBOh5NhhHlVZ7hBep4iuACUy5IFKsZkWxFYqjgJak/s1600/help.jpg" t8="true" /></a></div><br />
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I just ordered these flip flops yesterday. I can't wait to finish the sumemr and see if it's really true that they last forever. My Chacos have seen better days and after a couple mission trips they are ready to retire from day to day use.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKQSH77pvsrzmBbAZLPUc3OcxbS7iN2p8xs49yB2rdo8Up1sd7DikNxbw4C2YZ_BsAKR4htgP1W-wxXvKXB-pVC9l6Apy5rs2EdbFJlK-MCF0vv068EqKRrsf-2YO2_vgJCvUhtMucBg/s1600/river.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKQSH77pvsrzmBbAZLPUc3OcxbS7iN2p8xs49yB2rdo8Up1sd7DikNxbw4C2YZ_BsAKR4htgP1W-wxXvKXB-pVC9l6Apy5rs2EdbFJlK-MCF0vv068EqKRrsf-2YO2_vgJCvUhtMucBg/s1600/river.jpg" t8="true" /></a></div> Well, I am off to enjoy my first early Friday afternoon. This is the first summer I have gotten half days on Fridays. Makes the long days with no lunch the other four worth it.stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-47782709115615497362011-06-09T07:32:00.000-04:002011-06-09T07:32:22.619-04:00Happy Birthday Heather<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGJXvNuaJAfyhm4pwlvjO8P1dh_oeISw6c_cz5tq6WjeO767eU67LgLwLQJ9BrTh_5a7YyhO3NwHXLYprXQSil4gEF_aaciDiCsDNTOL1aDtuQJj4yHb4-UoRwRM_50fQjLNav4Qv2Ko/s1600/heather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGJXvNuaJAfyhm4pwlvjO8P1dh_oeISw6c_cz5tq6WjeO767eU67LgLwLQJ9BrTh_5a7YyhO3NwHXLYprXQSil4gEF_aaciDiCsDNTOL1aDtuQJj4yHb4-UoRwRM_50fQjLNav4Qv2Ko/s320/heather.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div>I love you little sis. I love you because you were my built in playmate. Gilligans Island in the big ole tree out back, mermaids in the swimming pool, and laughing when mom spanked us with the ruler and it broke.<br />
<br />
I love you because you "get it". I can talk without a filter to you because you never judge me. You make me feel normal and help me to laugh when life seems hard.<br />
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I love you because it's not hard to be your sister. You understand that although we are apart, it's OK. When we don't have time to sit and talk for hours on end, FB or txt is enough. You know that being close doesn't have to mean a physical proximity.<br />
<br />
I love you because you share my secrets, you understand where we come from and you are an amazing,strong and beautiful woman. I love you Heather! Happy Birthday! Wishing you the best day and the best year ever!stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-69450813219803292932011-06-07T10:47:00.001-04:002011-06-07T11:43:25.942-04:00What did I do all weekend? Well.......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRgN9Wl-cUb8jRo7lNqQ20TiNHhR8SAJfQ7UtZ9XFEkrYDSX5shLqLAD76MSQh0kUq-E5Yv4GDO80jrZr4xg3vZqq2x3fGJKPFcJ3T_Mqq68edzsUEPvhE5eZjlQQbW3yT5qCPAzlFOI/s1600/liz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRgN9Wl-cUb8jRo7lNqQ20TiNHhR8SAJfQ7UtZ9XFEkrYDSX5shLqLAD76MSQh0kUq-E5Yv4GDO80jrZr4xg3vZqq2x3fGJKPFcJ3T_Mqq68edzsUEPvhE5eZjlQQbW3yT5qCPAzlFOI/s320/liz.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUGYdzh725zXWJAHnJv_JUB1bIGMPqW4iKwlwRGrow7ZQCpRADSyOcNAXe8EwCmcDpvXBK2uROeYSAAbW1GuI_8207xwOSujMFELk71MzN9TEVzxGuGGWXQe081eJb5sLRjwoCL5zMT58/s1600/twin1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUGYdzh725zXWJAHnJv_JUB1bIGMPqW4iKwlwRGrow7ZQCpRADSyOcNAXe8EwCmcDpvXBK2uROeYSAAbW1GuI_8207xwOSujMFELk71MzN9TEVzxGuGGWXQe081eJb5sLRjwoCL5zMT58/s320/twin1.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmrScP6ea1lk1h-yiiJWKbGxMqwHBwg7qCRh4kvzI9Q1Iw4TdI7nIa8eA90oiDKB5FYe-pjrSTq1HQZyUNXuI_TE1GMyO3j-q43h5s3SbHbUEtjGXje6WZ2omVm2d9HK06Zkj16n4lxA/s1600/sis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmrScP6ea1lk1h-yiiJWKbGxMqwHBwg7qCRh4kvzI9Q1Iw4TdI7nIa8eA90oiDKB5FYe-pjrSTq1HQZyUNXuI_TE1GMyO3j-q43h5s3SbHbUEtjGXje6WZ2omVm2d9HK06Zkj16n4lxA/s320/sis.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div>I spent some QT with the two sweetest babies in the entire world! Their little milk crusted lips, sweet pearly toes and precious humm song they sing when they are milk drunk are on my mind tonight, and I miss them. If you know me, you know I love me some wee tiny baby. It was a blast!stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-89539801553610345302011-06-02T12:28:00.000-04:002011-06-02T12:28:46.398-04:00canopy roadSomedays your run can find you in unfamiliar territitory. A run in a new place is good for your mind and body. Not knowing what to expect keeps your senses sharp and you observe and experience new sights and sounds.<br />
<br />
This morning, I found myself on canopy Road. My sister's house backs up to the most beautiful road I've ever seen. Giant oaks line either side and branches join like clasped hands to cover the road in a tunnel of trees. Spanish moss drapes down to make curtain thatfilters the early morning sun. The warm humid Florida air makes breathing hard this morning. The thick air is heavy and already sweat trickles down my face, burning my eyes. The canopy road gives relief to the hot humid air. The shadows fall on the road and a gentle breeze greets my face. As the breeze blows the sweat from my eyes, it carries the the heady scent from the wild honeysuckle from the roadside. The early morning sun streams theough openings in the arms of the oaks makes abstract designs on the pavement that my feet connect with rhythmic patterns.<br />
<br />
My mind drifts now to thoughts of sisters. My two sisters I left at the house, talking and chattering about the day. The sisters to whom we fed early morning bottles. Their tiny lips surrounded by a crusty milk mustaches. I think about the two sisters that live at my house. I think about the adjustment of the upcoming year and how life will change for both of them.<br />
<br />
All these thoughts weave through my mind and as my feet pound out a mindless pattern, and my breathing repeats the cadence, I notice that I have gone farther down this canopy road than I intended. I hear a dog bark in the distance and that is my cue to turn around and head home, if I can find it. I'm sure my sister has a pot of coffee waiting. A good start to a relaxing day. I feel at peace with the world. There is a great comfort in having and in being a sister. A built in friend. Someone like you and someone so different. Forever joined by an invisible thread.<br />
<br />
And that's my thoughts on my canopy road run.stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-52421390952232940862011-05-30T21:24:00.000-04:002011-05-30T21:24:24.512-04:00Countdown<strong>2</strong> more days until I see my little sister who I have not seen in WAAAAYYYY too long.<br />
<br />
<strong>2 1/2 </strong>days until we both go down to Flaorida to see my sweet as sugar baby nieces and spoil them rotten for a few days<br />
<br />
<strong>3 </strong>weeks until Leslie and I head to West Ga. for orientation.<br />
<br />
<strong>4 </strong>weeks until I run the 4th of July 5K. I really need to get on the treadmill tomorrow.<br />
<br />
<strong>10</strong> weeks unitl my baby, yes my baby, starts her sophmore year of high school.<br />
<br />
<strong>15 </strong>weeks until Wayne and I celebrate 20 years of wedded bliss with a cruise.<br />
<br />
That is as far in the future as I can let myself plan for now.stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-75776416713818794912011-05-25T19:10:00.000-04:002011-05-25T19:10:01.176-04:00Remember when<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dear Leslie,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Remember when I left you at Gatewood for the first time in Ms. Nancy's class and you cried? I told you it was going to be Ok and you would love it....and you did.</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvquJIz83h7_CvUIVesGEeB6GCDzgkVDdH5CjRnwiirbZVYVspFwoA4DI8ea1gI0pFPE8Zwmr8xl4ukVuK0MM1Yy9n6PtfNaVYIp51mR_MVUqUVPANhVVIwPCOTUqHmbuqwNLM4Hr0YTo/s1600/2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvquJIz83h7_CvUIVesGEeB6GCDzgkVDdH5CjRnwiirbZVYVspFwoA4DI8ea1gI0pFPE8Zwmr8xl4ukVuK0MM1Yy9n6PtfNaVYIp51mR_MVUqUVPANhVVIwPCOTUqHmbuqwNLM4Hr0YTo/s320/2011.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Remember when you were in first grade and you hated to read and you threw the book on the floor and cried? I told you that one day you would love to read and that reading would take you to places you have never been. Now you love to read even if you stay up until 2am doing it.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz725Vc5jVXykPI3A8zBd1jJY5NebzTjueURRQxb8AAKR-fZ3whzU2faX5VZKYIpp4UgCrWzDQe00XZ4zN61VTTenZuDIDlRTHMAYryjvNLNXTrKMN8Iae22i-mkhQ44iaF6oOYwOuT0c/s1600/fam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz725Vc5jVXykPI3A8zBd1jJY5NebzTjueURRQxb8AAKR-fZ3whzU2faX5VZKYIpp4UgCrWzDQe00XZ4zN61VTTenZuDIDlRTHMAYryjvNLNXTrKMN8Iae22i-mkhQ44iaF6oOYwOuT0c/s320/fam.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Remember when you begged me to buy you a disposable camera and you would take all the pictures up in one afternoon? I told you one day you would be the world's best photographer......and you are on your way.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxtgbo9W2xBjKiTUK20DP2JM5B2svqRumkAymarf86XozFXWbqedXHdIqs1DtHZ2pSMJLQpnfMkSz8YMZNBrmsbNf2kljkdEWOUgt-2Bcek6941p6QNsPQzl1mM2ocj-T6sH4L5aOuQIM/s1600/graduation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxtgbo9W2xBjKiTUK20DP2JM5B2svqRumkAymarf86XozFXWbqedXHdIqs1DtHZ2pSMJLQpnfMkSz8YMZNBrmsbNf2kljkdEWOUgt-2Bcek6941p6QNsPQzl1mM2ocj-T6sH4L5aOuQIM/s320/graduation.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Remember when school started this year and you cried and said there was no way you could make it? I told you that you were a strong smart woman and it was time to act like it. You did and graduated with honors.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi735ooDXo5dKi_IdH8LxThF7MKXxibi-EkKpDDR3vE8hqMG0-LyBIrZq30Tmj90Gk5IjagCmqcYypcL3ZuWxHSb8fAs1WMGRgYHNP4sKIUthA_90zSbSR-WEVE3dn7zymj80z-gtK49aU/s1600/les2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi735ooDXo5dKi_IdH8LxThF7MKXxibi-EkKpDDR3vE8hqMG0-LyBIrZq30Tmj90Gk5IjagCmqcYypcL3ZuWxHSb8fAs1WMGRgYHNP4sKIUthA_90zSbSR-WEVE3dn7zymj80z-gtK49aU/s320/les2011.jpg" t8="true" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Remember this spring when you text me a picture of your ACT scores and then called me to tell me you were going to West Georgia? I told you that college would be some of the best years of your life........and they will be.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love you sweet girl. You have made me very proud.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Love, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mama</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-71246835780208337432011-05-19T12:57:00.000-04:002011-05-19T12:57:02.845-04:00Mixed emotionsHave you ever felt mostly happy but a little sad? Have you ever laughed when you felt like crying? Have you ever been excited, but never wanted the day to come? Have you ever wanted to freeze a day, but at the same time wished you could go back in time?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6yzT_nQe-n83AjwxbeOSaeDoixuUV6GQbtNnK3v61mCmEzyBHOX2Y1MvnvxH1SnGO9HV4f4RI5l3GPHlhi2nT1C9Ha_7TDdkkdMKBWDQXbiRQX3f4nNKcniBqqsfJUs5TKgEThDMOJY/s1600/IMG955299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6yzT_nQe-n83AjwxbeOSaeDoixuUV6GQbtNnK3v61mCmEzyBHOX2Y1MvnvxH1SnGO9HV4f4RI5l3GPHlhi2nT1C9Ha_7TDdkkdMKBWDQXbiRQX3f4nNKcniBqqsfJUs5TKgEThDMOJY/s320/IMG955299.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yeah, I know the feeling.</div>stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-28474049061538720822011-05-18T15:13:00.000-04:002011-05-18T15:13:21.785-04:00Driving Miss Daisy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsexKqkA9UMgl6b3PzvD06n2P6J4NDt1Qv7qf-MyAcoa9r_DOBBnSFPHUAj5G0yEyhe-W0kVkgGcrMNfauEp0rjsiihoT1HjFV7XOUhjP2jRwDneJHjI5YyN_Im4WiF-jb8_aMalmBJxA/s1600/drivers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsexKqkA9UMgl6b3PzvD06n2P6J4NDt1Qv7qf-MyAcoa9r_DOBBnSFPHUAj5G0yEyhe-W0kVkgGcrMNfauEp0rjsiihoT1HjFV7XOUhjP2jRwDneJHjI5YyN_Im4WiF-jb8_aMalmBJxA/s320/drivers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just in time. Her sister is flying the coop. I need another driver, bad. I'm lazy. I am used to sending them to Walmart. I'm used to the extra time in the morning, when they get themselves to school.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But this one, I think she's gonna be a lead foot...like her mama.</div>stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-19270863222710448832011-05-16T21:24:00.000-04:002011-05-16T21:24:31.220-04:00PLANKSNo, not the kind on my back deck, the human kind. That's right, somehow I have managed to commit myself to a 6 weeks program of strengthening the core through planks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_QS9LEkfjVFE_7QeuVMjeYhqPuTNDrdZ2mqfYys3jht9mddSdHONxtZOVq1hjGtrywDul3IaFn-eU3BpwOlcYDwAGRZr1Zx7w0hnnn0aZeWmKLiXi1WmXwCQ-ytqvO3sPBpc4K5jD2-Y/s1600/FitblogPlankChallenge_Big1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_QS9LEkfjVFE_7QeuVMjeYhqPuTNDrdZ2mqfYys3jht9mddSdHONxtZOVq1hjGtrywDul3IaFn-eU3BpwOlcYDwAGRZr1Zx7w0hnnn0aZeWmKLiXi1WmXwCQ-ytqvO3sPBpc4K5jD2-Y/s320/FitblogPlankChallenge_Big1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.lifeafterbagels.com/blog/2011/05/16/planks-cant-touch-this/">Life After Bagels</a> is where you can find out about the entire program. Why am I doing this? Well, it's mostly to improve my running form. A strong core means less injuries and less fatigue. So here's where I am and here's where I am headed:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Today (5/16) I could plank for 30 seconds</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">My goal is:</div><div style="text-align: left;">1) plank 5 x a week, (basically every weekday)</div><div style="text-align: left;">2) add 5 seconds every plank</div><div style="text-align: left;">3) Max out at 4 minutes (shoudl ocur around week 5 and will sustain through week 6)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I would love for you to join me, Tina and<a href="http://rebeccalynnhunt.blogspot.com/"> my cousin Becky</a> (who is responsible for beginning this madness). Just link to the Life after Bagels website above or find her on FB. Then post your goals and updates either on your blog or on FB!</div><div align="left"></div><div align="center"><br />
</div>stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-62693609460818115892011-05-14T14:04:00.000-04:002011-05-14T14:04:42.589-04:00SissyI guess it statred before Ginny could even talk. As soon as Virginia came on the scene, Leslie became "Sissy" We called her that, and as Ginny learned to talk, (which was not until she was almost 2) she called her "sissy" too.<br />
Today, 15 years later, Leslie is still "Sissy". The sweetest sound in this house, is to hear Ginny call her older sister "Sissy". Sometimes it is through laughter and sometimes it is shouted in frustration. I thought that one day she would outgrow it, but I'm so glad she never did. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg51PK5JFT8yX8o77qqQ2VYWgtSxKrS-05Z1sqHkyyAhZ1Bz-0pvGkrQJmng8H5BA0VhKLGsRopeUDbnZGWtjCjSAoZ7EQfTBDAS3w09_3wGUiOFZPLJkY70pWTkpS924FjWETwuhuOeIs/s1600/nashville+085.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg51PK5JFT8yX8o77qqQ2VYWgtSxKrS-05Z1sqHkyyAhZ1Bz-0pvGkrQJmng8H5BA0VhKLGsRopeUDbnZGWtjCjSAoZ7EQfTBDAS3w09_3wGUiOFZPLJkY70pWTkpS924FjWETwuhuOeIs/s320/nashville+085.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-49038277656855520612011-05-12T12:47:00.000-04:002011-05-13T16:32:52.354-04:00Whatcha readin'?I have lots of online friends. Some are real life friends that I talk to everyday, others I talk to every once in awhile and their blog is how I keep up with them. Some are friends from long ago and some I've never met. I read a variety of blogs. So I thought I'd share some fun ones and ask you to leave in comments section blogs you enjoy.<br />
<br />
Of course I hit my sister's blogs everyday:<br />
<a href="http://www.caddellfive.blogspot.com/">Heather</a> and <a href="http://readyandwaiting2fall.blogspot.com/">Liz</a><br />
<br />
These are really good friends of mine. Some write all the time, some sporadically but always enjoy them:<br />
<a href="http://keepinupwiththebrowns.blogspot.com/">Lauren</a><br />
<a href="http://ramblingsofareagan.blogspot.com/">Roxann</a><br />
<a href="http://www.singletongirl.blogspot.com/">Hollie</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeasaluttrull.blogspot.com/">Megan</a><br />
<a href="http://worthprestwood.blogspot.com/">Worth</a><br />
<br />
<br />
Knitting: My new passion. Reading knitting blogs helps me find cool patterns and funky yarn.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.adventuresofarogueknitter.blogspot.com/">Adventures of a Rogue Knitter</a><br />
<a href="http://www.spudandchloe.com/blog/">Spud &Chloe</a><br />
<a href="http://www.purlbee.com/">The Purl Bee </a><br />
<a href="http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/">The Yarn Harlot</a><br />
<br />
Coupons: The hottest craze among women everywhere! This is where I find good coupons, bargain, and freebies.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.southernsavers.com/">Southern Savers</a><br />
<a href="http://bargainbabe.com/">The Bargain Babe</a><br />
<a href="http://thekrazycouponlady.com/">Krazy Coupon Lady</a><br />
<br />
<br />
Fitness: I love these blogs. Usually they have some sort of challenge to get up and get going.<br />
<a href="http://www.lifeafterbagels.com/blog/">Life After Bagels</a><br />
<a href="http://completerunning.com/chocolate-runners-blog/">Chocolate Runners Blog</a><br />
<br />
Bible blogs, I mean like who isn't gonna listen to what Beth Moore has to say<br />
<a href="http://www.desiringgod.org/blog">Desiring God</a><br />
<a href="http://www.jonacuff.com/blog/">Stuff Christians Like</a><br />
<a href="http://blog.lproof.org/">The LPM blog</a><br />
<a href="http://theresurgence.com/2011/05/12/mission-suburbs">Mark Driscoll: The Resurgence</a><br />
<br />
<br />
This is only a small portion of the blogs I read. What are you reading?stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-18619181615533284852011-05-10T10:23:00.000-04:002011-05-10T10:23:15.419-04:00Salute to Mom's DayThis Mothers Day was different on many accounts, and I have to say, one of the best I've ever had. Yes, even better than my very first Mothes Day. That was the year that Wayne decided to celebrate his baby mama with an electric razor. Yeah, it was less than stellar. He's come a long way baby.<br />
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This year, my mother was busy taking care of babies in Florida with my baby sister. So I pretty much had the day to myself to be spoiled, and I was.<br />
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I was a tad concerned that the girls may forget it was Mother's Day. I'm not sure if Wayne was just yanking my chain or not, but he mentioned to me that the girls were old enough and had a somewhat independent source of money this year, so he was leaving it up to them to remember and do something all by themselves. I was not disappointed however, becasue as Ginny told me ," How could we forget Mother's day? It's not like it wasn't plastered all over Walmart." <br />
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I realized when I woke up that morning that this is probably the last Mother's Day that Leslie would be at home as one of my baby chicks. Gulp, another sad moment in the ride to her becoming an adult.<br />
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Wayne bought me the biggest most beautiful geranium ever and told me that morning that after church we would go eat Greek. I was happy because 1) I love Greek, and 2) It goes pretty good with this doggone bean diet I'm on.<br />
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Church was great. I love it that Andy, our pastor, mixes things up. The service was brought to us by various mothers and the wisdom in the room was amazing. Then he had all the mothers come forward, and the rest of the church gathered around them to pray a blessing over them. It was my favorite Mother's Day Sunday ever.<br />
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The girls and Wayne took me to Metropolis. It was delicious, and they suffered through it. Ginny expanded her horizons with a chicken finger and french fry basket. And we laughed. And we talked. And Wayne teased me which made the girls laugh even more. And I thought, I love them, so much. I thought, I want to always stay just like this.... but it won't. No, it will change every year, and it will be better than the last. I miss home made cards from little girls, but I laugh at the hilarious card they picked out for me this year. I love it that they spend their own money to buy me the prettiest spider plant you have ever seen. I love it that even though life changes, it gets better. I love to see beautiful smart funny girls across the table and know that I am blessed....and loved. <br />
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The rest of the day was absolute leisure. I took a long intoxicating Mothers Day nap, and knittted a little. The girls and Wayne piddled, and napped and watched movies.<br />
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Wayne drove me up to the corner store late that afternoon and we got a Diet Pepsi and pork skins, and that was supper. It was good. I hugged my girlies extra hard and I think they squeezed me back just as hard, after all, it was Mother's Daystephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-68006201031928900702011-05-05T10:23:00.001-04:002011-05-05T13:20:51.037-04:00I was never supposed to get this attachedIt all began with a sweet little girl named Kelli. When I started my job at the college health center, I discovered that a perk of the university system was having student workers in your office. They did your bidding, anything you wanted done, like run across campus and get me a sandwich, to file these papers, any job you didn't feel like doing, they were more than happy to complete for you.<br />
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Kelli was so much fun. She had the cutest giggle and best of all, she was fun to tease. Our office is like a family, and it didn't take long to spoil and mother our "baby". And then the unthinkable happened, she graduated and left us. It hurt. She never looked back.<br />
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I was determined to never let another student worker wound my heart, and then the twins came. Courtney and Lindsey are well, our girlies. We have guided them through relationships, encouraged them to become runners, chastised them for indecent clothing. and laughed, oh how we have laughed.<br />
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They have made the separation much easier by living a year after graduation in Milly. We have been able to see them occaisionally and even run together quite often, and suddenly, it seems as if we have become their friends instead of just their Milledgeville mamas.<br />
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When Jessica walked in our clinic two years ago, I was determined to keep her at a business distance. I tried to avoid teasing her. When she would giggle I would turn my chair around. I could not, I would not become attached to another student worker. It was just too painful when they leave.<br />
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She graduates on Saturday and even though she will be in the office until June, I am sad. I did it again. I was never supposed to get attached, but I did. I will miss her. She will miss us too. We pry into her personal life, giving unsolicited relationship advice. We warn her of the dangers of being out too late, and take care of her when she is sick. She's all grown up, and just like the others it's time for her to leave. She is a strong beautiful woman, our work is finished. I'll be darned if I am gonna love another student worker. I'm not even asking them their name next semster.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJITk5GD_gwf-Fb1IzzCJnhJzon6NBqLlLAKv2Nr8HKGmVtZGU8qmYTy_HW8lGjYFTK2k9hlLXwEnu7WdwQTmxLVNMphyXJA7eb4LQ826eVWM_x9K6ViOsytLWUCN2KWO7InHYPBVa0OE/s1600/shs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJITk5GD_gwf-Fb1IzzCJnhJzon6NBqLlLAKv2Nr8HKGmVtZGU8qmYTy_HW8lGjYFTK2k9hlLXwEnu7WdwQTmxLVNMphyXJA7eb4LQ826eVWM_x9K6ViOsytLWUCN2KWO7InHYPBVa0OE/s320/shs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-41363947272222098042011-05-03T20:18:00.000-04:002011-05-03T20:18:37.422-04:00And somedays it sucks.....So here's the truth, I love to run, on good days, and I hate to run on bad days. In fact, if you are not in the mood to listen to whining, now would be a good time to log off. It sucked, bad.<br />
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I haven't really run much since the 5K in April. I did some last week in the woods and it was alot of fun. So when I saw the twins in the grocery store last night and they suggested a long run I was ready. <br />
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I love to run with the girls. They are fun. Faster than me so I have to push myself, but not so much better that we can't hang. they make me laugh, and somedays wish I had their youth. Our routine is pretty much the same. We chat and catch up as we warm up for about 1/2 mile then we all three put on our earphones, line up in random order and go to it. I watch their ponytails whipping in the wind, I dodge Lindseys spastic arm and get lost in thought. Once in a while one of us will point out a susnet, or sunrise. I'll tell them to smell the gardenias blooming, or just listen to our breathing. It's a rhythm I find comforting. When my groove is within reach I know it, my breathing becomes slower, my mind settles and I can let the days events wind their way through my brain. Tonight started out slow, I was feeling sluggish, but the girls were in no hurry so I knew in about 10 minutes I'd be in my groove. The groove never came, or else when it came I missed it gasping and thinking of Peanut Buster parfaits.<br />
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I knew it was a washout when I realized mile two was making my legs feel like lead, and my knees were beginning to feel wobbly. I lookedup and saw both girls wiping sweat. Y"eah, it's hard becasue it's awful hot this afternoon, my groove is just around the corner.", I tell myself. I topped 2 1/2 by turning up Lakeport. Now my lungs were burning. Screw it! I'm walking, and so I did. As usual, the girls see me and slow down. They begin to walk too. They say they are tired, but I know better, they feel sorry for me. As I finally catch up they tell me how awesome we did. Blah blah blah, we all know we all wanted to quit. It sucked.<br />
But we don't quit, we muster up a little more umph and top the hill of mile 3 at a slow jog. Is my groove here at the end? No, legs still shakey, mind still begging me to stop. I hang it out for the last 1/2 mile then declare to the girls I think I'm gonna stop running, and maybe take up gardening. They laugh. they know I'm just tired and cranky. They know that I will run again, probably tomorrow, and maybe tomorrow I'll find my groove early on. The beauty of running, for every bad run, there's always tomorrow.stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-87749319045237564722011-05-02T14:34:00.000-04:002011-05-02T14:34:37.775-04:00My take on Bin Laden</strike>Twitter and Facebook have been electric with the news that Bin Laden is dead. There is wide range of opinions. I have read comments that range from praise for our military and thankfulness that this mad man has been silenced, to others who condemn any taking of a life. Some have used scripture to back up opinions while others have posted crude and even offensive reponses.<br />
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Here's my take on Bin Laden-<br />
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I did not personally lose a friend or family member in 9/11, but I watched a widow that is probably about my age this morning on the Today show. She held a photo of her husband while tears streamed down her face. For anyone who has been a victim of terror, there is comfort in knowing that God, while full of love and slow to wrath, is also full of justice. He is longsuffering and calls all men to repentance, but he also defends the widows and orphans. He makes all things right.<br />
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I just finished reading through Deuteronomy and Joshua. Astounding to me how God repeatedly instructed the children of Israel to obliterate, completely destroy the inhabitants of Canaan. Over and over He told Joshua to destroy every man, woman and child. Where is love in that? Is it a contradiction in His character to value life, yet demolish an entire people group?<br />
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The soverignty of God is a concept that I am just now beginning to study. It has opened my spiritual eyes to a side of His character that I previously never appreciated. Funny how opinionated humans try to understand and explain the mind of God. He is God, we are dust. His thoughts are not our thoughts, His ways not our ways.<br />
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He is altogether just when he commands an entire nation be destroyed, yes even the children. He retains his holiness when an island nation is drowned in a tsunami and people are washed out to sea. He is God when cancer kills, when spouses walk out, when babies are aborted.<br />
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Will Osama's death cause terrorism to cease? No. Will it increase terroristic activity against Americans? Maybe. Will it bring back the dead who were lost on 9/11? We know it won't.<br />
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But this we do know, God will not be mocked or ignored. He is patient not wanting anyone to perish. He gives new mercies every morning, but He is soverign in every thing He does and everything He allows. He uses simple people like you and me. He uses earthquakes and tsunami's. He uses kings and orphans. He can even use Navy Seals.stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-38630058848517548632011-05-01T21:13:00.000-04:002011-05-01T21:13:18.154-04:00Crazinessthat is how I would describe the last month of my life. I just got through reading my friend <a href="http://ramblingsofareagan.blogspot.com/2011/05/latest-paintings-and-may-special.html">Roxanne's blog</a>. She has had a horrific month but has managed to see God's hand in it all and has even been able to celebrate in the middle of sadness. While my life is not in the middle of crisis, I share her sentiments that it has been a whirlwind. Thus the reason my posts have been scarce, that, and I seem to have a form of writers block. Maybe there is too much going on anyways.......here's a summary of the last mind numbing 2 weeks....<br />
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My church hosted a 5K for the Compassionate Care Clinic where I volunteer. I helped to organize it and despite the fact that a tornado came barreling through town and hour before the race was scheduled to start, it was a great success! We had over 75 runners. We raised over $4500 for the clinic, and look, my sweet running buddy Courtney and I both placed!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILjlioHR2wN38BB1HVMyIvl7VMKnL5M2ws9AEVJIQDtCsCrwofkdGRUJ3YzqrBE6V_34BGtPFGKonYx38HlsMWVAFpnJALG95l2zSNUGD3hbN4aUhHHCU0xbmyknh5JF3Ih6M3gJn8AY/s1600/ccc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILjlioHR2wN38BB1HVMyIvl7VMKnL5M2ws9AEVJIQDtCsCrwofkdGRUJ3YzqrBE6V_34BGtPFGKonYx38HlsMWVAFpnJALG95l2zSNUGD3hbN4aUhHHCU0xbmyknh5JF3Ih6M3gJn8AY/s320/ccc.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maybe the best part of the Run for Compassion was seeing my two girls get out there and run it too!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99nlTBeh_gH7QShJPgEt_wTIOpl7UjmZmnrC5pKY350x9bZxFA1JI6fNML7Nsm1zhVEN9QLM28wD_Q3x_EdUT38nYX32e3uAb1LyRd0w4BfVNE82pI76fEGZkTVR8p4fa2cvL0LKS5nY/s1600/ccc2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99nlTBeh_gH7QShJPgEt_wTIOpl7UjmZmnrC5pKY350x9bZxFA1JI6fNML7Nsm1zhVEN9QLM28wD_Q3x_EdUT38nYX32e3uAb1LyRd0w4BfVNE82pI76fEGZkTVR8p4fa2cvL0LKS5nY/s320/ccc2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next week we left to go camping at my favorite spot in the entire world, Moccasin Creek in Clayton. We had a blast! We spent about 4 days in the peace and quiet. We celebrated Ginny's 15th birthday, we hiked, we read, I knitted. It was a little slice of heaven. We have discovered that camping with kids is so much fun, especially when they are not yours. I love it. Our friends the Parkers have three boys that make me laugh so hard! Tina kept me motivated to run while we were gone and we both decided that cross country through the woods was actually easy on the knees and we loved it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin7ySaLLewyYy9k1LBqeDy1KAeXTJLf1VkCSgmEu_hNo-X88P4xzPta967buUMlObyYvLRkcDOTorSmcoXfq4AckSU3a7EtFgpFs6UFeMmTg67Vc4fCBjnN1VCT2MzzA9lgv3BQNytZK8/s320/camp1.bmp" width="237" /></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">Leslie stayed at home to job hunt. (Well that was the excuse she gave us) She found out that she passed her ACT and was accepted to University of West Georgia. Happy times in the Welch house! We are super excited! So we find ourselves in the middle of graduation invitations, party planning and college forms. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Today was a day of celebration, We traveled to Florida to see my two sweet nieces who were born yesterday. They are fresh from heaven and have that new baby smell, tiny cupid lips, and the sweetest toes ever. They deserve a post all their own but for now, I'll leave you with this...........</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqfnZLbhehxmTSWdu0iFikSgPAOsO45sFDH8Ch7UtURVCYst9vrfxtDAgLd7cji5SEe1uqDWgNjUpjcZ1Zcj3diLBximrBLdkPqLamkpCNxed7Zg7vndG4vLwOmVpYD-8xoIklskvtQQ/s1600/twins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqfnZLbhehxmTSWdu0iFikSgPAOsO45sFDH8Ch7UtURVCYst9vrfxtDAgLd7cji5SEe1uqDWgNjUpjcZ1Zcj3diLBximrBLdkPqLamkpCNxed7Zg7vndG4vLwOmVpYD-8xoIklskvtQQ/s320/twins.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Kate and Rose Oliff</div><div align="center" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>stephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00033391338844339842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729097407525655340.post-65153193395095084782011-04-15T06:35:00.000-04:002011-04-15T06:35:55.267-04:00Joshua: the original tough guy<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQKKCdKM13x6B29GRQbWy_D7vtuWjVq2VJJZF4Hwv79iG0PuqQ8EuTQsElpl6OknuwVUGlC8Fx2Ay0isqdneNM4kA52MuetCQxK89y-x-2ef_yFGSCLeFKnS4Re-Y0kII_U6uNnzUv98/s1600/joshua.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQKKCdKM13x6B29GRQbWy_D7vtuWjVq2VJJZF4Hwv79iG0PuqQ8EuTQsElpl6OknuwVUGlC8Fx2Ay0isqdneNM4kA52MuetCQxK89y-x-2ef_yFGSCLeFKnS4Re-Y0kII_U6uNnzUv98/s1600/joshua.jpg" /></a></div><br />
My morning Bible reading has taken me through Deuteronomy and Joshua. I am thinking that the book of Joshua should be turned into a major motion picture. I can hardly wait to read what happens next. There is every element of action movie jammed packed in these stories:<br />
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Israel is by far the underdog.<br />
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Joshua has to step up after Moses. I mean, could there be a harder act to follow? He does it in style. Takes no prisoners, far fetched, sly dog battle plans that seem to come through in the last seconds. Wins over barbaric blood thristy kings. <br />
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The plot always has a twist, nothing is ever simple. (Read the battle of Ai)<br />
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The good guys win in the end<br />
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It's been a long time since I just read the Bible as a great story. Oh, I know it's so much more than a great story, but sometimes, there is nothing wrong with getting lost in the wonder of a great big God, that enables a rag tag army of homeless people to slay wicked kings and their people.<br />
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Somedays it's nice for God to remind me that in the end, we win. Please God remind me that nothing is too hard for You. Remind me that You want me to be ruthless when I attack sin in my life. Remind me that You and me make the majority. Remind me that even on days when I feel weak, I am a princess warrior.<br />
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