<?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-19200155</id><updated>2011-07-07T18:56:43.511-07:00</updated><category term='Holidays'/><category term='gardening/yard'/><category term='attitude'/><category term='grandbabies'/><title type='text'>bicycle mama</title><subtitle type='html'>My heart on life...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-6212049384241693929</id><published>2010-04-23T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T23:20:15.615-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gardening/yard'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S9PZR0ts7aI/AAAAAAAAADU/rLc4Fy4bFOA/s1600/_MG_4132logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 364px; height: 224px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S9PZR0ts7aI/AAAAAAAAADU/rLc4Fy4bFOA/s200/_MG_4132logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463949673161878946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;My Climbing Lady Banks ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This plant was given to me many years ago and I really had no idea how much I would come to love it. If my husband didn't keep her in check, she would cover the entire house and then some! She is loved by all of the neighbors - and passers by as well. People come and stand on the sidewalk in front of our house and stare at her and talk about her and if I'm around, they ask me questions about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She caused me some worry and concern a couple of weeks ago! She was so heavy with blooms and it was so windy and rainy that she was pulling off of the house and threatening to break right off! My heart would have broken right along with her. And my very caring husband knows how much she means to me. He lovingly trims each year, many times! (She has a nasty habit of crawling under the shingles of the roof.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S9PbmyB2ypI/AAAAAAAAADc/xe5j_RHc_yM/s1600/_MG_4120logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S9PbmyB2ypI/AAAAAAAAADc/xe5j_RHc_yM/s200/_MG_4120logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463952232241613458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So here he is saving her in the calm before the storm. The first time actually. He's anchoring her to the house, but he had to go out and add to it since this time. And all for a short couple of weeks! That's all the bloom you get. It's here and gone in a flash. Kind of sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the funny part! We have a neighbor who likes to know everyone's business and very predictably showed up to put his 2 cents in during this rescue process. He looks up at my husband - risking life and limb - and says, " I could understand you doing that if it was about honey, but..." and no sooner had he said it I responded, "Oh, Gene - It's ALL about honey." He gets it right off the bat! "Oh, Honey-Do!"&lt;br /&gt;So my Lady lives and is happy and the blooms are all faded. She actually has an interesting history. I was perusing some old National Geographics someone had so graciously donated to us "because we were homeschooling and would surely need them." and there was an article about Sir Joseph Banks.  A very wealthy, natural historian, Joseph Banks had sailed three  years around the world with Captain Cook, aboard the Endeavour.  Returning to London in 1771 he brought back an immense collection of  plant and animal material. He died in 1820 at the age of 77.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2m3wGnWBkAk/SbVvSlwkEwI/AAAAAAAABG0/UTrMuaC0ZHo/s1600-h/lady+banks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2m3wGnWBkAk/SbVvSlwkEwI/AAAAAAAABG0/UTrMuaC0ZHo/s400/lady+banks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311273700717499138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In 1807 one of  Banks' collectors had found a rose growing on the Chinese coast and  sent it back to Kew where it was named Rosa banksiae in honor of Joseph  Banks' wife. It soon became known as Lady Banks' rose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In 1885 a  cutting of this rose was sent to Tombstone, Arizona. In the garden of  the &lt;a href="http://www.goldcoastrose.org/shared/tombstone.htm"&gt;Rose  Tree Museum&lt;/a&gt; grows the worlds largest rose tree. From its twisted  trunk grow branches which cover 8,660 sq ft of trellis. There was a picture of it in the magazine. Amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to Spring and all its beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19200155-6212049384241693929?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/6212049384241693929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=6212049384241693929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/6212049384241693929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/6212049384241693929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-climbing-lady-banks-this-plant-was.html' title=''/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S9PZR0ts7aI/AAAAAAAAADU/rLc4Fy4bFOA/s72-c/_MG_4132logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-1505522391836292040</id><published>2010-04-06T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T22:52:54.908-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>My Favorite!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S7wcQensbaI/AAAAAAAAADM/IHLoyfYk5Iw/s1600/012008_21471.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S7wcQensbaI/AAAAAAAAADM/IHLoyfYk5Iw/s200/012008_21471.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457267917889236386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXCERPTS FROM THE DOG'S DAILY DIARY- anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:00 am - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:30 am - Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:40 am - Oh Boy! A walk! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:30 am - Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:30 am - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12:00 noon - Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:00 pm - Oh Boy! The yard! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4:00 pm - Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:00 pm - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:30 pm - Oh Boy! Mom! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:00 pm - Oh Boy! Playing ball! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:30 pm - Oh Boy! Sleeping in master's bed! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;This is my dog. Except the master's bed part. He's okay with that. He used to sleep on his boy's bed, but learned to take his half out of the middle and his boy grew to 6 feet and and one of them had to go. I wonder! BUT - my point being - what a great way to live! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dogmindedness&lt;/span&gt;. Yea. To think like a dog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:georgia;font-size:11pt;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;To find the good in everything. To enjoy everything (mostly - we are human after all). What would that look like as a human? Mmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:30 am - Oh boy! It's sunny! My favorite &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;or&lt;/span&gt;       Oh boy! It's rainy! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:30 am - Oh boy! Time to get ready for work! My favorite! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;or&lt;/span&gt; Oh boy! My day off! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 am - Oh boy! That little kid who drives me crazy! My favorite! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;or&lt;/span&gt; Oh boy! A bike ride! My &lt;br /&gt;             favorite!&lt;br /&gt;12 am- Oh boy! The baby is awake! My favorite! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;or&lt;/span&gt; Oh boy! The baby is asleep! My favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get the point. Life really does go by fast. Enjoy each moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19200155-1505522391836292040?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/1505522391836292040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=1505522391836292040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/1505522391836292040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/1505522391836292040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-favorite.html' title='My Favorite!!'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S7wcQensbaI/AAAAAAAAADM/IHLoyfYk5Iw/s72-c/012008_21471.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-6977795770911447008</id><published>2010-04-05T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T21:48:00.299-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>Awe-Some !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I came across a fun book recently called the Awe-manac by Jill Badonsky. It's a daily reader of sorts that promises "a daily dose of wonder." She is really quite creative with her Daily Soul Vitamins and such AND her illustrations are adorable. Oh, and she is very funny. There are a few things about it that I, personally, don't like, but  I LOVE the whole purpose of the book. The author encourages her readers to see and/or find the wonder in each moment of life. What a concept, huh? She says, "We can live with wonder if we have or are open to, the ability to recognize the deep pleasure possible in a simple moment. But this ability is a skill like any other - it may take time and practice. We are impatient, we want to apply life-changing concepts to banish our challenges immediately. When the change is not sustained after the enthusiasm dies down, we often just give up instead of rinse and repeat." I like that. Rinse and repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the idea of finding wonder in everything. We live in a seemingly increasingly negative society and it becomes a very natural thing for a lot of us to just live negatively and not realize it. Even to think it's normal and justified. I ask myself, "what will happen if I don't think critically, negatively, judgmentally? It's my right. It's American. It will seem as if I don't care! THAT'S it! It will look as if I don't care. Aaaannnnd, then what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then nothing. And then peace. And then quiet. And then wonder...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/19200155-6977795770911447008?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/6977795770911447008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=6977795770911447008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/6977795770911447008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/6977795770911447008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2010/04/awe-some.html' title='Awe-Some !'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-2925231714822743130</id><published>2010-04-02T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T18:15:59.530-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grandbabies'/><title type='text'>I'm Back...this time as a grandma!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S7ZrBVs3irI/AAAAAAAAADE/SWLyFiTVyls/s1600/25022_365769138936_633073936_3692920_1684756_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S7ZrBVs3irI/AAAAAAAAADE/SWLyFiTVyls/s200/25022_365769138936_633073936_3692920_1684756_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455665669355309746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Let me introduce a very precious little guy, who I can't imagine life without! Gabriel Preston Blankenship. Born August 13, 2009. I wasn't too happy about my son and his wife having a baby so soon after they were married. Really, the issue was that they themselves were so young (in my opinion). But, as a Jesus follower, I also believe that all things God works for the good of those who love him,  who  have been called according to his purpose (Rom 8:28). God knew that this little baby would bring healing to our family. I should have known God had a plan!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabriel is a very happy baby. Loves to smile and laugh- just my style! I never knew I could love a child that is not mine so much! Ahh, but he is mine in a sense. He's flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone. He is my son's child and I have a very vested interest in him. Do you know what it does to me when he arrives at my house or we meet up somewhere and he  sees me and I can tell he recognizes me and there's a look between us and he just lights up! Talk about "be still my heart!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the last time I wrote, I also went back into my profession - Speech Pathology. That's for a different post, but I have to say, life is good and especially God is good! Grace and Mercy abounds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19200155-2925231714822743130?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/2925231714822743130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=2925231714822743130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/2925231714822743130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/2925231714822743130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2010/04/im-backthis-time-as-grandma.html' title='I&apos;m Back...this time as a grandma!'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/S7ZrBVs3irI/AAAAAAAAADE/SWLyFiTVyls/s72-c/25022_365769138936_633073936_3692920_1684756_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-1467419349890471905</id><published>2008-12-02T11:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T12:21:22.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Riding or Writing? That is the Question!</title><content type='html'>When I don't ride, I don't write. I'm not sure what happened, but due to a smoky summer and working I just haven't been able to get on my bike much UNTIL November! I say in all seriousness - THANK YOU GOD! I only worked 2 days a week and the weather was wonderful and I was able to ride at least 3 days a week or so. Awesome. I feel refreshed.  So I will write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Scientific Experiments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I did a scientific experiment this summer. A very controlled study. The results were stunning. While cleaning out a hutch at our cabin, I came across a huge stack of Father's Day cards that my brother and I had sent my father while he was alive. I thought it would be fun to go through them. It was! Once I started through the stack, I noticed something and thought, "Wait a minute!" I decided to start all over (here's where the "experiment" comes in) again. This time I divided them according to who gave which card. That would mean two stacks - Stack 1 = Brother, Stack 2 = Sister. What I ended up with gave me a very clear result to the study. Stack 1 cards were all, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;every single one&lt;/span&gt;, serious in nature. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To my wonderful father.&lt;/span&gt;.. Stack 2 were all, every single one, humorous in nature. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To the King ... of the remote. &lt;/span&gt;Etc.  You get the point. So, I think the results of the study showed me something very significant. My brother was able to pinpoint it best I think. I showed him the stacks of cards and how I conducted my study and asked point blank, "What do you think this means?" His response came quickly, "Well, that you are funnier than me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, there was a time many years ago, when he would not have seen the humor in all of this, but God has done great things in his life and he now has a great sense of humor. But he is still the more serious of the two of us and I guess you could say that my father had a balance in his children. Both sides of the coin. Two great kids all in all. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19200155-1467419349890471905?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/1467419349890471905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=1467419349890471905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/1467419349890471905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/1467419349890471905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2008/12/riding-or-writing-that-is-question.html' title='Riding or Writing? That is the Question!'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-778816751293216565</id><published>2008-08-31T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T22:30:59.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Here's the thing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I haven't written in a long while and even then, it's been few and far between and I'll tell you why. I have so much - too much - I want to write about. It just becomes a blob in my mind and so I put it off. I've decided that there is no rule that says I can't write about a bunch of stuff in the same post? I get very hung up on things like that. An example is one I grew up with. You just don't have the same thing for dinner two days in a row. That's a "rule" my mom lived by. I'm not sure which of her rule books that came out of, but it's a hang up for me and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; my family loves to tease me about it. If we had broccoli on Monday for Potato Night, then no way can we have it on Tues with alfredo and pasta. I poo-pooed that rule last week and darned if we didn't live to see the next day! So is it okay to talk about something funny AND something spiritual in the same post? I keep thinking God has this rule that I can't talk about my faith and something else at the same time. Oh no! That's just not done. Well, what do you su&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;ppose that that is just one more hang up of mine - one I made up in my mind?  So I'm going to give myself permission to give that up. I'm saying good-bye to "only one topic per post" and " either make it spiritual or not." Whew. I feel better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOooooooooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here's some things I'm thinking about&lt;/span&gt; -  not in any special order. (Something in me says I really should start with spiritual things, or only write about spiritual things,  if anyone is going to take me seriously. Sounds like a hang up! )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hillary and Sarah Palin.&lt;/span&gt; Okay. Check this out. Is this rich or what? If Sarah Palin makes it into the White House, she will have accomplished what Hillary has been killing herself doing - with not much effort at all. By that I mean that all of these months Hillary has been fighting and brawling her way to try to be President, draining her finances and everything else while Sarah Palin has just been quietly living her life, governing Alaska and out of the blue, she has a good chance of being Vice President without having to campaign etc.  That means that if John McCain keels over, Sarah will be the first woman President. Sort of by gosh and by golly. I would never want anything to happen to McCain! But how interesting, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Vacation Stories&lt;/span&gt;- Nice Kitty/Wrong Place at the Wrong Time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SLt8CofLOCI/AAAAAAAAABw/rNat7Wxm054/s1600-h/_MG_7980+copy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 340px; height: 209px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SLt8CofLOCI/AAAAAAAAABw/rNat7Wxm054/s200/_MG_7980+copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240918976045463586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a pic of a nice kitty cat that came near out cabin this summer. My hubby was nice enough to chase it to get this picture. We've all heard the stories of people getting attacked by moose, buffalo, elk, etc., trying to get The Picture. Fortunately that didn't happen here. The amazing thing is that my father (rest his soul) spent over 60 years coming to this cabin and never once laid eyes on a mountain lion. He'd be jealous if he knew! It also makes me wonder why this kitty felt comfortable enough to mozey by one morning. It was evident (detectives Willie and Bob were hot on the case!) that it was tracking a deer. The morning breeze and the nearby river (loud) served to keep him ignorant of the two guys cooking breakfast, talking and singing praises to God just yards away. I'm not sure mountain lions like hash browns, eggs and pancakes on the griddle anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the more amazing story. I would show you a picture of this too, but I'm afraid I'd get reported for inappropriate content and then Blogger would kick me off this site. It's a sad story of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and being impulsive to boot. There is a lesson in everything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once a little packrat. We'll call him --- "Nitwit." He's been known in these parts for a few months. Even peeking in windows at night scaring all of the women in the cabin. Shame on Nitwit. Well, one day Nitwit's nest was discovered in the shed and mean old Bob tore it apart and cleaned it out. This was cause for Nitwit to take revenge? For he struck out to find a new site for a nest and what a nice place this little green car would make? Ahh. Home sweet home. Right inside this nice engine compartment. There's even a little towel stuffed in there to add comfiness the new home. Nitwit had been enjoying his new home in the little green car for over a week when one day it started moving. Oh my! What to do? Stay put for now seemed like a good idea - UNTIL! WATER! NO! There's water splashing up into my new home. My new home is going through a small stream of some sort. Nitwit decided to abandon his new home and thought that that neat little serpentine belt would help him escape. And that it did. It helped him escape into that Big Packrat Place in the Sky! Little did Nitwit know that this would be his last day. For when the people in the little green car wondered why in the world the engine stopped so suddenly, they stopped to look and soon discovered little Nitwit - or what was left of him at least. The End&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19200155-778816751293216565?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/778816751293216565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=778816751293216565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/778816751293216565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/778816751293216565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2008/08/heres-thing.html' title=''/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SLt8CofLOCI/AAAAAAAAABw/rNat7Wxm054/s72-c/_MG_7980+copy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-8360424815113045291</id><published>2008-08-20T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T21:38:22.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SKzs4SvWVmI/AAAAAAAAABg/rtQNLY73YOc/s1600-h/2430384887_aab95c1234.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SKzs4SvWVmI/AAAAAAAAABg/rtQNLY73YOc/s200/2430384887_aab95c1234.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236820918572308066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CHECK IT OUT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Everyone in Redding needs to check out the NOLS bus out at Big League Dreams on Friday 5:30-9pm and Saturday 8am-6pm August 22-23. My sister-in-law works at the NOLS international headquarters in Lander Wyo. What is NOLS? National Outdoor Leadership School. &lt;a href="http://www.nols.edu/"&gt;Here's the website.&lt;/a&gt; We know people young and old who have taken a NOLS course and loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back soon to tell of our vacation adventures. They include packrats and mountain lions. Yikes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19200155-8360424815113045291?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/8360424815113045291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=8360424815113045291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/8360424815113045291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/8360424815113045291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2008/08/check-it-out-everyone-in-redding-needs.html' title=''/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SKzs4SvWVmI/AAAAAAAAABg/rtQNLY73YOc/s72-c/2430384887_aab95c1234.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-8552803115866305733</id><published>2008-07-19T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T23:55:26.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SO COOL!</title><content type='html'>I have to tell about this. Anyone who is anyone knows that&lt;br /&gt;President Bush was in Redding on Thursday. My husband just&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SILfUutetNI/AAAAAAAAABQ/epofDK3JEEQ/s1600-h/800px-VH-60_Marine_One.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 149px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SILfUutetNI/AAAAAAAAABQ/epofDK3JEEQ/s200/800px-VH-60_Marine_One.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224984064932361426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;happened to be near the airport when he landed in Air Force One.&lt;br /&gt;Not too long after he hopped into Marine One and headed out to&lt;br /&gt;view all the fire damage in Northern Cal. I just happened to be in Shasta Lake when they flew over on their way to Shasta Lake. I can't&lt;br /&gt;begin to tell you how cool. It gave me chills. I was in the Starbucks parking lot and I hear this incredible noise (I knew what it was) and right over head flies Marine One and all the other helicopters accompanying it. I thought, "This is about as close as I will probably ever come to the President." What a rare treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FSA...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19200155-8552803115866305733?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/8552803115866305733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=8552803115866305733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/8552803115866305733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/8552803115866305733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2008/07/so-cool.html' title='SO COOL!'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SILfUutetNI/AAAAAAAAABQ/epofDK3JEEQ/s72-c/800px-VH-60_Marine_One.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-8589161401964869102</id><published>2008-07-19T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T23:44:05.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tales from a 30th High School Reunion: we forget what lies behind...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SILbisFFJhI/AAAAAAAAABI/oAQO3aymkAc/s1600-h/IMG_7818.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SILbisFFJhI/AAAAAAAAABI/oAQO3aymkAc/s320/IMG_7818.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224979906697700882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;For those of you who read the post on my previous blog site re: the girl who wanted to beat me up in Jr. High? Well, here we are. By the looks of my hair, it does look like she took me down, but that's not the case at all. We had a good laugh about it and enjoyed visiting with each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how much more fun I could have had, but I have to say that not only was it "like old times," but it was BETTER than old times. By this age, all the old embarrassments, intimidations, etc. are long gone and you just enjoy each other. Some of us even met at another location after we got booted out of the reception hall at 11:30 p.m. and how it got to be 2 a.m. - I'll never know! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we have gotten reacquainted - for some it has been 30 years!- and we even have our own website, plus a photo sharing site so we can stay in touch with all the pics that were taken at the reunion.&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/19200155-8589161401964869102?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/8589161401964869102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=8589161401964869102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/8589161401964869102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/8589161401964869102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2008/07/tales-from-30th-high-school-reunion-we.html' title='Tales from a 30th High School Reunion: we forget what lies behind...'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SILbisFFJhI/AAAAAAAAABI/oAQO3aymkAc/s72-c/IMG_7818.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-4331992404927149078</id><published>2008-07-08T22:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T23:07:36.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's to 25 Years!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SHRP7TBw_1I/AAAAAAAAAA0/_fCP3O9tJWU/s1600-h/bob+and+sal+7:9:83006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SHRP7TBw_1I/AAAAAAAAAA0/_fCP3O9tJWU/s320/bob+and+sal+7:9:83006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220885748167802706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;A milestone fewer and fewer couples are reaching. I have to admit that when I got married 25 years ago at 23 I really had no idea what I was getting into. The seas were stormy for quite a few years, but we learned how to sail the boat &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;"&gt;together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; and I can say we've become a much more efficient crew sailing our way through both calm and stormy seas. Of all the wisdom God has instilled in me through the course of our marriage, the most apt has been the verse He gave me near my wedding date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;1 Peter 3  Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" id="en-NIV-30411" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;when they see the purity and reverence of your lives. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" id="en-NIV-30412" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" id="en-NIV-30413" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" id="en-NIV-30414" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful. They were submissive to their own husbands, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" id="en-NIV-30415" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her master. You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fear&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fear&lt;/span&gt;, meaning, forgetting Who is in control and trying to control things - and your husband- yourself. If I were Jewish I would say "Oy Vey!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realize what a real treasure I got when I married my hubby. (Did I mention we run a pirate ship?) I wasted a lot of time trying to clean up the outside of the treasure chest that I didn't even look inside. Wow! Silver and gold mates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta go, the Captain is waiting for me to weigh anchor. Time to celebrate...  FSA...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&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;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19200155-4331992404927149078?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/4331992404927149078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=4331992404927149078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/4331992404927149078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/4331992404927149078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2008/07/heres-to-25-years.html' title='Here&apos;s to 25 Years!'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SHRP7TBw_1I/AAAAAAAAAA0/_fCP3O9tJWU/s72-c/bob+and+sal+7:9:83006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-3856034369549221204</id><published>2008-07-04T14:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T15:08:28.557-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SG6Zi0Zm6KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7qF-fqvWQ_o/s1600-h/American_Flag_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SG6Zi0Zm6KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7qF-fqvWQ_o/s320/American_Flag_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219277841629636770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy 4th of July and God bless America. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how many people who complain about America and take living in this country for granted have ever been to another country? I had the priviledge of visiting Europe - quite a few years ago - and I knew even at 17 that we had it very good in America. I wonder if the whole "housing market" /financial crisis along with the gasoline "problem" isn't giving us a taste of what we have taken for granted for so long? Are we waking up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much I could say, but I could go on too long. So, I hope everyone is having a fun day... and thanking our Creator for such a great country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. We should be thankful for lots of things, including our new cell phone law here in California. Watch this and it may take on a positive side? &lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;amp;videoid=37531065"&gt;hands free phone&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;amp;videoid=37531065"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FSA...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19200155-3856034369549221204?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/3856034369549221204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=3856034369549221204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/3856034369549221204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/3856034369549221204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2008/07/proud-to-be-american.html' title='PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SG6Zi0Zm6KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7qF-fqvWQ_o/s72-c/American_Flag_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-3887354150796082298</id><published>2008-06-26T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T13:58:16.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Role</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SGP-_lihCwI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h8YDtQbIwDk/s1600-h/IMG_0576.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SGP-_lihCwI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h8YDtQbIwDk/s320/IMG_0576.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216293161787263746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;A mother-in-law! Isn't it funny how we become things in life with no prior experience? I guess I've been around other mother-in-laws enough to know how I can do this. And how I shouldn't for sure. That's me dancing with my son at his (beautiful) wedding a couple of weeks ago. I was asking him if had embarrassed him with my "toast." I'll let you in on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few very nice toasts from the best man and maids of honor, I figured it was time for some humor. Actually, I had been cooking this up for a number of weeks. So, I ask for the mike and I say a few nice words to my son and his new wife and then I say, "But I have some bad news for you son." (They both look a little nervous) "Back when we told you about the "facts of life" you stated that you sure hoped Jesus came back before you ever had to do "THAT." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPROARIOUS LAUGHTER ENSUES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pause - "Well, honey, He hasn't come back yet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORE UPROARIOUS LAUGHTER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very happy it went off so well. I would have been really embarrassed if it hadn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I end for today. I think I'll be back soon.&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/19200155-3887354150796082298?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/3887354150796082298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=3887354150796082298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/3887354150796082298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/3887354150796082298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-new-role.html' title='My New Role'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/SGP-_lihCwI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h8YDtQbIwDk/s72-c/IMG_0576.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19200155.post-113264218303104181</id><published>2005-11-21T22:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T22:49:43.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>so many blogs, so little time...</title><content type='html'>Going on my second blog.  More later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19200155-113264218303104181?l=slance45.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/feeds/113264218303104181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19200155&amp;postID=113264218303104181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/113264218303104181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19200155/posts/default/113264218303104181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slance45.blogspot.com/2005/11/so-many-blogs-so-little-time.html' title='so many blogs, so little time...'/><author><name>bicycle mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14415438208108365434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_INVIb7hsBu4/STWSwp9wgqI/AAAAAAAAACc/88ZF196jxak/S220/_MG_3257+copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
