tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624738006863342262024-02-01T18:56:00.004-08:00A Little Bit of EverythingA little bit of this, a little bit of that. I hope there is a little bit of something to bring a smile, to ponder, to try, to enjoy!Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-85017950630355587422013-08-21T20:58:00.000-07:002013-08-21T20:58:37.329-07:00A Hairy Adventure<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I have never
colored my hair. I am a big chicken! Well, there was that time in high school when I doused my hair
in lemons. But purchase at the store or pay someone for hair coloring!? I just
couldn't justify it. Also, coloring your hair comes with a complication – you
must continue coloring it FOREVER or you get that weird band where natural hair
color meets dyed hair color. Keeping up with hair, make-up, or fashions really
don’t fall under one of my ‘strengths.’ “So, why,” I asked myself, “would I
begin coloring my hair when I would have to re-color it every four weeks for
the rest of my ENTIRE life???” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
One day, it all changed. I was innocently sitting at a basketball game,
one row higher than another mom. From my vantage point, I could see the most
gorgeous color of copper in her hair. She had mostly dark hair except for the
stunning copper highlights. I just had to know! So I asked. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Now, I am not always aware of
crossing social boundaries. I sometimes ask people how old they are. Sometimes
I ask if they are pregnant (not too often anymore though. Once a lady replied,
“I know it looks like I am pregnant, but I have a tumor.” Egads). And
apparently, sometimes I ask if their hair color is natural. Fortunately, she
was not offended. She replied that the dark is her hair color, but the copper
is there because of treating it with henna. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Fast forward 8 months. I could not
erase that beautiful copper color out of my mind. I began asking around about
hair coloring, and henna. It seems that in the 70’s, henna was frequently used
to color hair. Nowadays, I think only the Indian women and alternative/punk-rockers
use henna. I have two friends trained in
cosmetology. I asked each friend (they do not know each other) what they knew
about henna for hair. Both of them shrieked, “DON’T USE HENNA!!” I asked them, “Why
not?” They both dropped their jaw, shook their head, and said, “That is what
they taught us at school – NEVER use Henna.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Sorry, that is just not enough
reason for me. I did some research. I believe the beauty schools don't want Henna used because the results vary, so there is a lack of
control. Also, you cannot use chemicals to correct or cover up Henna-dyed hair.
After all this research, I decided I really wanted to try it. Yes, I was willing
to change my life for those beautiful copper-colored strands.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I asked my friend to take me to an
Indian grocery store and I bought the Henna dye. It was a green powder that
smelled like alfalfa - fresh alfalfa. I glopped it onto my head, shirt and
countertop, waited the prescribed time, and spent at least 20 minutes trying to
rinse it out of my hair. But at last, I
was finished. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I am fairly happy with the results.
I will say that I had MUCH more gray hair than I thought! My gray didn't turn
the smashing copper that started this whole quest, but it isn't gray. My hair
does have natural-looking reddish highlights. I read that as you repeat the
process, the color actually deepens. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCEkOCUSduz2w4vRRZZGKJdmD5OUo7L1zDacVK9dWjEMzlcyrGWZbojEduJ4p-zK9jkMVZyeASJX1-Uskm_N6XNwOSEvf9UDkGPu50NQvWew4T21_Uk3UGr070C3jQjbK9kV39aAkKw/s1600/20130808_114357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCEkOCUSduz2w4vRRZZGKJdmD5OUo7L1zDacVK9dWjEMzlcyrGWZbojEduJ4p-zK9jkMVZyeASJX1-Uskm_N6XNwOSEvf9UDkGPu50NQvWew4T21_Uk3UGr070C3jQjbK9kV39aAkKw/s320/20130808_114357.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After Henna treatment</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuisg9SRE5oVqbq-nINFlI0P7oRVn0Iy03Yhp1fUqkKaeD5Tjqvg1KDAsp1rXyGZeewLEcRaD4kcF5XjovpccmTQjJhH6wnYssCdKX_w-2JR_4GL7yCXYqq4RR87z6laIeBa3uVQcPUA/s1600/20130808_065411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuisg9SRE5oVqbq-nINFlI0P7oRVn0Iy03Yhp1fUqkKaeD5Tjqvg1KDAsp1rXyGZeewLEcRaD4kcF5XjovpccmTQjJhH6wnYssCdKX_w-2JR_4GL7yCXYqq4RR87z6laIeBa3uVQcPUA/s320/20130808_065411.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before Henna treatment</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-MKXwmBJqkLlhm91mbzfyCdwGIf-WUkZR1bsk6oFyFUCOgjgFDms20mR-7X4Frz63FfL19ixw5KiVajFCBYSzo0jZnKISx5v5kGB0myNlT0_MADOZq9iqMu-B8DqZPmKg0FS17qOr3w/s1600/20130808_065309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-MKXwmBJqkLlhm91mbzfyCdwGIf-WUkZR1bsk6oFyFUCOgjgFDms20mR-7X4Frz63FfL19ixw5KiVajFCBYSzo0jZnKISx5v5kGB0myNlT0_MADOZq9iqMu-B8DqZPmKg0FS17qOr3w/s320/20130808_065309.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left side Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-MKXwmBJqkLlhm91mbzfyCdwGIf-WUkZR1bsk6oFyFUCOgjgFDms20mR-7X4Frz63FfL19ixw5KiVajFCBYSzo0jZnKISx5v5kGB0myNlT0_MADOZq9iqMu-B8DqZPmKg0FS17qOr3w/s1600/20130808_065309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtEKvPeMDuYJyWteb9G7Mgn-e3BGfNvjCEk-teS0IgoCACdUyc9_Js_KBLLibjXGG7XnOGwpOj-ElbUFNgf8zI2ONzJ6fPAwLI_eGEYGGYVjIT-mme18xG_-wjt0Hmzrge2WlmI5BXhg/s1600/20130808_065646+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtEKvPeMDuYJyWteb9G7Mgn-e3BGfNvjCEk-teS0IgoCACdUyc9_Js_KBLLibjXGG7XnOGwpOj-ElbUFNgf8zI2ONzJ6fPAwLI_eGEYGGYVjIT-mme18xG_-wjt0Hmzrge2WlmI5BXhg/s320/20130808_065646+(1).jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left Side After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp7sAPkeEIVzX8bu82ZSiOneXF2f4dq9Hp-UgT3KveivyxOM9iOh15q7lg2vHQMS6n6db401MpNiTC9dlgPK4dBImDYJoiV2vbZ4wz61NsFfATt25wvXpDwDfkkNasScCB1GhUFsJAGQ/s1600/20130808_065450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp7sAPkeEIVzX8bu82ZSiOneXF2f4dq9Hp-UgT3KveivyxOM9iOh15q7lg2vHQMS6n6db401MpNiTC9dlgPK4dBImDYJoiV2vbZ4wz61NsFfATt25wvXpDwDfkkNasScCB1GhUFsJAGQ/s320/20130808_065450.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right Side Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vLzByES_Qr1xG4LgVAGsz8dPCPDV5vcDtzXyP8QlmKN4Eqfz9LNh4CAO2a1IXOlWQsUrJRf16G1-9OyWd2msXjD69XuudJtxsrBemOw9mSBWCFK2cG-2jAHPeLj4G9bRMrKW8uYV-g/s1600/20130808_114053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vLzByES_Qr1xG4LgVAGsz8dPCPDV5vcDtzXyP8QlmKN4Eqfz9LNh4CAO2a1IXOlWQsUrJRf16G1-9OyWd2msXjD69XuudJtxsrBemOw9mSBWCFK2cG-2jAHPeLj4G9bRMrKW8uYV-g/s320/20130808_114053.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right Side After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyFMMn7ITj_FVKw8nbr8n5Fa1C6WPUN6pPXG1VbUinQ6P8_rU6oZ9z78aKkHRw9IH8lgDrEc6_cTuNd6aHPpzrj6bFijhxr0B1rlPisZipNQTqhNCroR4DnJQhX11GFeh3x04iVGPNWw/s1600/20130808_065529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyFMMn7ITj_FVKw8nbr8n5Fa1C6WPUN6pPXG1VbUinQ6P8_rU6oZ9z78aKkHRw9IH8lgDrEc6_cTuNd6aHPpzrj6bFijhxr0B1rlPisZipNQTqhNCroR4DnJQhX11GFeh3x04iVGPNWw/s320/20130808_065529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7mijFSLR_MlmyXIQ8piuOs2jBNorUCU3WyyoGkFA2Ra4RD42uxjc3lm-62VbvxWFDnISSFTrie8xIHfe_Svbh-ByYRo5lVzzKYFQ-E-l9790Ms550TATBLnYb-9StGFutEiuys4aDLA/s1600/20130808_114114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7mijFSLR_MlmyXIQ8piuOs2jBNorUCU3WyyoGkFA2Ra4RD42uxjc3lm-62VbvxWFDnISSFTrie8xIHfe_Svbh-ByYRo5lVzzKYFQ-E-l9790Ms550TATBLnYb-9StGFutEiuys4aDLA/s320/20130808_114114.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I know the pictures are lame, sorry. The lighting wasn't good, but I figured I should take Afters in the same place I took the Befores. Really though, my hair does look different in different lighting. Here is a picture I took outside. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryQbGMm14zws8u-POZRkYRabvIhRsjL-IIyOf18SGBeyBo2X33skt_26ZidXNEI4zh4HY44ECpcdaDjYv78BUYzLdpl6FjhweIzbf_MwRXFcESmWAywh-3fJ5pPetVE5dCikFRZ2piw/s1600/22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryQbGMm14zws8u-POZRkYRabvIhRsjL-IIyOf18SGBeyBo2X33skt_26ZidXNEI4zh4HY44ECpcdaDjYv78BUYzLdpl6FjhweIzbf_MwRXFcESmWAywh-3fJ5pPetVE5dCikFRZ2piw/s320/22.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After; Outside<br /><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
TTFN!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-36925729506496919932013-08-13T06:43:00.003-07:002013-08-13T06:43:35.411-07:00Mom's Surgery<div class="MsoNormal">
Um, I actually wrote this on June 8. I guess it was just too difficult to remember to actually post it! Since I wrote it, however, I will go ahead and post it more than two months later. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am sitting in the hospital room where my mother is
recovering from knee replacement surgery. She will be recovering for the next
several months. It is pretty amazing that a 70ish year-old woman has the guts to go
through such a procedure. That is the stuff for a twenty-year-old. Or teenager. A teenager breaks a leg, wears a cast for 5 or 6 weeks, then jumps
right back into playing football. She will have to work much harder for days,
weeks, months to recover the strength she had before surgery. Then she will
have to continue to fight every day just to keep the strength and mobility she
has regained. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I feel that same fight even now. When I was twenty, I could go from
sleeping to running and never even be sore. Now, just a score of years later, I
am sore from sleeping!!! I have to work to maintain the strength and
flexibility that I have. If I stop working at maintaining, I immediately start
losing the strength. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is completely different with my weight however. I have to
focus and work and exercise just to maintain my weight. The second I stop
working, I immediately (overnight or faster!) begin to gain weight. Ah, the irony.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, back to my mom. Glory to God – everything has gone
very well. She has been well taken care of in the hospital. The staff is
excellent, patient, available and attentive. The pain medicine has worked very
well and she hasn't been nauseous. It is obvious how much her friends love her.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t like seeing her hurt. I don’t like knowing the
struggle she will go through. I do like that she will have less pain in the
long run, more strength, and more ability to live the next phase of her life
with less pain and more activity. <o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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We are very thankful to God for all His goodness to us!<o:p></o:p></div>
Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-86376744195270112132013-05-22T20:03:00.001-07:002013-05-22T20:14:55.623-07:00Catching Up<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wow. More than a year has flown by since I last posted. More
than just time has flown by – many miles have sailed under my wheels. We moved,
first to one temporary location, then the Lord opened a job for my DH and we
have relocated to a big metropolis. Born into the big city, my heart finally
found a home in the country. Now I’m a city girl again. No more stickers in our feet, shoes, carpet,
car, or dog. No thistle wars to wage. No wilderness creeping into our yard. No
sunsets over hills, no creek to play in, no river to swim in, no animals to
care for or ride, no full moons shining in my window, no fabulous friends
coming over. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
It has been a difficult transition. But I can testify that
the Lord has been right with me every step of the way. He delivered a box of
surprises, or a word of encouragement; kindnesses on sad days, strength on weak
days, peace on lost days. Even as I felt hard pressed on each side, He gave me
the grace to remain in faith, knowing that He only has good for us. Because I
have seen His faithfulness in so many ways throughout many years and trials, I desire to be found by Him in faith. I want to receive what He sends with
gratefulness. It hasn’t been easy. I am sometimes sad. But He is Good. <o:p></o:p></div>
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1 Thessalonians 5:18 In every thing give thanks: for this is
the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Psalm 107:1 O give thanks unto the LORD, for He is good: for
His mercy endures forever.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Hebrews 6:19 which hope we have as an anchor of the soul,
both sure and steadfast, and which entered into that within the veil;<o:p></o:p></div>
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And so my hope is in Him. And He has strengthened me, and
taught me. And I look forward to more.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-41143232856841711162012-04-18T21:09:00.000-07:002012-04-18T21:09:15.274-07:00Weaknesses...<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Climbing Mount Everest is a monumental, life-threatening challenge. Swimming the English Channel is a dangerous confrontation. Running a marathon is a grand undertaking. Even mowing 5 acres on a riding mower can put me to the test!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">But the challenge that I am facing these days is recovering a skill that was once easily accomplished for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back in an earlier time, before technology was instantly accessible from almost any home, intersection, mountaintop or public bathroom, listening was something I could do without having to repeat the mantra, “Remember to listen, remember to listen.” (Of course, even <u>that</u> increases the traffic between the ears!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I don’t really blame my cell phone, or computer, or my ipod, or TV, or instant wikipedia, or even the radio. These things do help me to perfect “short attention spans,” but they are not at fault.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Really, I have no one to blame except the fertilizers and pesticides in our foods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just kidding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know it isn’t the food’s fault.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>It is the result of what I have been practicing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The problem is that it seems to take more and more attention to think about the things that I am actually SUPPOSED to think about, and <u>that</u> thinking crowds out my listening skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, since I become un-used to listening, it seems awkward, therefore easily avoided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Alcoholics Anonymous says the first obstacle to overcoming a problem is to face the reality of the situation – admit you have a problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So here I am admitting the problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to listen better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to listen to loved ones better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I mostly want to listen to the Lord better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do believe that the Holy Spirit is always leading, always speaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I do believe that abiding in Him (John 15) is ‘living and moving and having our being in Him,’ (Acts 17:28). So combining being who we are and who He made us with the fact that He delights to reveal Himself to us and has given the Holy Spirit to do just that, He is always leading, always speaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I also hunger to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hear - <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>His words are life, His voice is life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">My hearing has become dulled by the noise pollution between my ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And since I know that I can do nothing by my own power, (no matter how much I want to ‘resolve’ to listen better!) I fall on the constant mercy and kindness of my Heavenly Father. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">And I <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">know</b> He hears me! Praise You LORD!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">What is the last thing you heard from the Lord?</span></div>Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-35690577519051790322012-04-14T12:23:00.002-07:002012-04-14T12:33:07.525-07:00Strawberry Fields Forever<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Jekcx7SlubUSxRKZa74zxkeGqIpr2lQ-Pe18x_1S999j3ws7jT-Svq-pzsh9IWKFJt-z5za13ZqwCJmPlw7sosJnIZWIwHQk5Z3o3m4WpizHfbVA0JxPD4eaq-dPIq9i-QJ7nSgetw/s1600/2012+04+13_2557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Jekcx7SlubUSxRKZa74zxkeGqIpr2lQ-Pe18x_1S999j3ws7jT-Svq-pzsh9IWKFJt-z5za13ZqwCJmPlw7sosJnIZWIwHQk5Z3o3m4WpizHfbVA0JxPD4eaq-dPIq9i-QJ7nSgetw/s200/2012+04+13_2557.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
Freshly picked strawberries - a mound of God's goodness! Yesterday, <a href="http://rockcastleblessings.blogspot.com/2012/04/what-we-are-learning-this-week-really.html" target="_blank">my friend</a> and I took our children to <a href="http://www.marburgerorchard.com/" target="_blank">Marburger Orchard</a>, a 'U-Pick' farm near Fredericksburg, Texas, (No connection to <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=762473800686334226#editor/target=post;postID=5807249886027611580" target="_blank">my last road trip</a> to Marburger Farm Antique Show - or maybe the connection is that I like going to places with the word 'burger' in the name). It was a beautiful day with perfect weather and row after row after row of bright red dollops of strawberry deliciousness. This is just one section of the strawberry field. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HZelIG8mP7ys7mklzVA5B_7gEli0v_Rz94OxwBmzAiDEOAoBHbs32LmcwvmW8sp8dERKhxHRm0tU3aKXKpYMNyQVPOuv778yz4BMCem9ZYEC6PzGZMglGnNNgQOS4ETfX34BUOmY6w/s1600/2012+04+13_2514+edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HZelIG8mP7ys7mklzVA5B_7gEli0v_Rz94OxwBmzAiDEOAoBHbs32LmcwvmW8sp8dERKhxHRm0tU3aKXKpYMNyQVPOuv778yz4BMCem9ZYEC6PzGZMglGnNNgQOS4ETfX34BUOmY6w/s320/2012+04+13_2514+edited.jpg" width="320" /></a>Our plan for the day was to pick the berries, then go home and make as much jam as possible. This plan has all the elements of a great homeschooling field trip - friends, fun, food, AND you benefit from your work with a year's supply (hopefully) of jam (Home School Objective: where your food is grown and produced.) We piled in the car and headed out about 8:15. By 3:30, we had driven there and back, picked, washed, hulled, made and eaten lunch, chopped, cooked, and canned 18.5 pounds of strawberries - 36 jars or about 40 cups of jam! And thanks to another friend, we knew how to make jam using only 1/4 of the sugar that regular jam recipes use. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of our beautiful bounty!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLDi0tIvP8CVwkd73E8QDRgD6TwHd5DYZvxWO-4eMj75AVJqMomzl7LaK6fbS4C9ChUTio4ZAOoWygAQ1gHvA77zkXsaUnNHlJVO05HprUhY3gmF9I7Y8Xun6IwOBwnoSYw2DL1T3RQ/s1600/2012+04+14_2607+edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLDi0tIvP8CVwkd73E8QDRgD6TwHd5DYZvxWO-4eMj75AVJqMomzl7LaK6fbS4C9ChUTio4ZAOoWygAQ1gHvA77zkXsaUnNHlJVO05HprUhY3gmF9I7Y8Xun6IwOBwnoSYw2DL1T3RQ/s200/2012+04+14_2607+edited.jpg" width="154" /></a> </div>
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I am thankful for all the workers that grew those luscious strawberries! It was a day filled with praise for all the goodness that flows from our Father!</div>
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"For you shall eat the labor of your hands; happy shall you be, and it shall be well with you" Psalm 128:2</div>
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<br />Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-58072498860276115802012-04-06T22:07:00.002-07:002012-04-06T22:08:46.876-07:00Road Trip!Doesn't it seem that when you KNOW you have to get up super early, you can't stay asleep until the alarm dings? It's like your body goes on "Hyper Alert Standby Mode." That is what happened to me the night before our Girl's Road Trip! And I wasn't the only one not sleeping - one <a href="http://thepenningtonpoint.com/" target="_blank">mom</a> was up with a throwing-up child. And the other <a href="http://www.theotherendofthecandle.com/" target="_blank">mom</a> was up diligently getting beautiful so she wouldn't make us late!<br />
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So three gals, very little sleep, Chick-Fil-A breakfast, and 3 hours in the car to arrive at our destination:<br />
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the <a href="http://www.roundtop-marburger.com/" target="_blank">Round Top Antique Fair</a> - one of the biggest Antique Fairs in the USA.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTSDcL0P_xAdjtRXzBA6nk8kcoVngb32Nvsx2rHzUr5bMf76o-Ru3dMB3ZpHIHxHLJtd6f7PsTIx7DJg_PxjAe-72OcGe0ZPOdntu-cvUL8qSh7pRT7t-fxdUQumnrjdDi-KLf1Mvhw/s1600/Marburger+card.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTSDcL0P_xAdjtRXzBA6nk8kcoVngb32Nvsx2rHzUr5bMf76o-Ru3dMB3ZpHIHxHLJtd6f7PsTIx7DJg_PxjAe-72OcGe0ZPOdntu-cvUL8qSh7pRT7t-fxdUQumnrjdDi-KLf1Mvhw/s320/Marburger+card.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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If you ever think, even for the briefest of passing seconds, "Boy, if only I could find a __________," then Round Top is the place you should go. There are things you never even knew existed. I was intrigued by this view:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This just says it all: china, horns, mirrors, and a zebra head - all in one place!<br />
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But the best part is the time with friends - sharing hefty doses of food, fun, and laughter. I mean, you can get to know someone over dinners, christmas parties, picnics; but 14 hours in one day really throws the friendship doors wide open (or I guess slams it shut!). After being trapped in a car for 7 hours, traipsing over 14,000 acres of flea market, and nearly dropping dead from heat exhaustion, you know if you really want to be friends. The result: we were planning our next annual outing before we even got home! <br />
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One requirement for next year - Air Conditioning!</div>
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</div>Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-56883660000073979172012-02-15T16:09:00.000-08:002012-02-15T16:09:19.511-08:00Pie Crusts and Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I like to try new things. And I like food. Therefore, I like to try new foods. That is one of the reasons I enjoy the Food Network - to watch skilled cooks with new ideas. Recently, the Food Network debuted a new cooking show by the famous city-girl-turned-country-girl-blogger, the Pioneer Woman Ree Drummond. So I tuned in. I mean, she has developed her talents, so she embodies hope for the rest of us!</div>
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She made something that looked so yummy, and she made it look so easy, that I couldn't resist trying it myself. She called it the "Flat Apple Pie," with a "fool-proof" crust that is supposed to look rustic instead of perfect. When I located the recipe online, it was even better - it was called "Flat Apple Pie with Perfect Pie Crust." Boy - I was flooded with hope! I had never made a nice pie crust all on my own! Even following meticulous directions, keeping in mind all the hints and tips from my granny and my aunts, my pie crusts were crumbly and ugly!</div>
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I wish I could find a picture for you. Ree said the pie is designed to be held in your hands. She made her family so happy! I was ready to share the love with my family!</div>
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After gathering all the ingredients, I got started. My handy apple peeler/corer/slicer </div>
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<a href="http://c.shld.net/rpx/i/s/pi/mp/3551/195779969p?src=http%3A%2F%2Fmedia.mydoitbest.com%2FImageRequest.aspx%3Fsku%3D641146%26size%3D2%26NewSize%3D600&d=85c99867a70a514d92851db087f574ada7cf7807" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" " border="0" height="200" src="http://c.shld.net/rpx/i/s/pi/mp/3551/195779969p?src=http%3A%2F%2Fmedia.mydoitbest.com%2FImageRequest.aspx%3Fsku%3D641146%26size%3D2%26NewSize%3D600&d=85c99867a70a514d92851db087f574ada7cf7807" title="Norpro 865 Apple Parer-" width="200" /></a></div>
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went to work on the apples. My first hint at a problem came when I made the crust. I noticed that Ree's recipe called for about twice the fat (butter/crisco) than any of my other pie crusts recipes. But I plunged ahead. Everything was going according to plan until I started to fold the crust over my spiced apples. The crust really did look better than any I had made before, but it just didn't seem as 'stretchy' as I thought it should be. "Oh well," I reasoned, "if there was a catch, surely Ree would have warned me!" So I fold the crust, appreciate the rustic look I have achieved, and pop the pies into the oven. <br />
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Boy, did those pies smell delicious! But my premonition proved true. All of the wonderful apple-y juices flowed right out of the crust and onto the pan. The crust had cracks where the apples poked through, and that heavenly juice was carmelized onto the pan. <br />
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If I had more experience blogging, I would have a picture to show you. It still tasted okay, and it was the best crust I had ever pulled off, but I wouldn't make it again. The amount of butter and crisco is just too big an obstacle. Mostly I ate the apples out of the middle. And they were fantastic.<br />
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In case you want to try your hand at this, here is the link to the recipe:<br />
<a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ree-drummond/flat-apple-pie-with-perfect-pie-crust-recipe/index.html">http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ree-drummond/flat-apple-pie-with-perfect-pie-crust-recipe/index.html</a><br />
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Be sure and let me know how yours turns out!<br />
Happy Baking!Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-87490780713443320172012-02-09T21:44:00.000-08:002012-02-15T15:30:38.681-08:00A Little CureRecently I learned something that everyone should know. So if you are lucky enough to be reading this, get ready for your whole life to change. <br />
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Okay, maybe that is an exaggeration. But here is one little amazing cure: Flour for burns. <br />
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Sounds absolutely crazy. I have no scientific research to back it up. I have done no googling on the subject. I didn't even learn about it while home schooling! I learned about it because I burned myself and I happened to be at a friend's house. <br />
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Here is what happened: I was melting a tiny bit of queso (velveeta and rotel) in my friend's demon microwave. This microwave is linked to some kind of sunspot surge. Most of the time it won't get your cup of coffee hot in less than 2 minutes. Then, for some unseen reason, it decides that it is time to let loose all of its pent up anger and return whatever is in it to sub-atomic particles. This is what happened with my queso. So when I innocently reached into the microwave and picked up the little cup, the cup was so hot it melted to my fingers. I had to shake it off, which then poured melted cheese as hot as lava all over my hands, wrists and fingers. I immediately ran to the sink and started running cold water over the burns. They were already red and swelling fast. I was crying it hurt so bad. <br />
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My friend ran in to find out what happened. She had heard the clattering and the squealing. She very sweetly and diligently started pummeling me with questions. Really, the same question over and over, "What are we supposed to put on burns?" She was very sincere, and upon seeing my tears, and the welts, became even more insistent, "WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO PUT ON BURNS?!" I wasn't really any help in answering. We probably looked like an "I Love Lucy" skit. I just kept saying, "I don't know!" She then began helpfully suggesting all of the essential oils that she had in her pantry. "Lemon??? Wintergreen? Lavender? Oregano?" To which I kept my wits about me and intelligently continued answering, thru my tears, "I don't know." <br />
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Finally, her eyes lit up like saucers! "Flour!" she jubilantly yelled.<br />
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She dashed across the kitchen. She poured a gallon ziploc bag half full of plain old enriched bleached flour and told me to stick my hands in it. I could tell the running water wasn't helping. I could tell that running water, even if it was fresh off a glacier, would never help the burns that demon microwave had given me. So what could I do besides call 9-1-1? Plunge my hands into that bag o' flour! Amazingly, INSTANTLY the pain was almost gone! It was unbelievable! Right up there with Paul being bitten by a viper, and shaking it off like it was a caterpillar. The natives wanted to worship him as a god. I mean it - that flour trick was THAT amazing. As soon as I had my hands buried in the flour, my dear thoughtful friend looked at me with an excited, eager gleam in her eyes, "I have just been WAITING to try that!" She quickly caught herself and added, "I mean, I'm sorry you got burned, but,...." I wondered if she had been secretly planning to burn one of her kids just to try it out. What a hero I am, saving her kids like that! Just kidding, she wouldn't do that. And I am GLAD she had read some crazy thing about flour helping burns. And I am glad the Lord was able to remind her what to put on burns - during our highly intelligent conversation. <br />
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The end of the story is that I kept my hands in the flour for at least an hour, probably a bit longer. When I took them out, the redness was gone, the pain was gone, almost all trace of the severe burns that I received were gone. There was just one little red spot about the size of a pea, not even a blister.<br />
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Rememer - the next time you or your children get burned - FLOUR FOR BURNS!Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-28244121970039850282012-02-06T21:59:00.000-08:002012-02-06T22:01:44.714-08:00A Little UpdateWell, I guess I should come clean about my 'no sugar/dessert' activities. I made it for a while - through a visit with friends, a visit with family, and a graduation celebration (which had specialty cake - specialty! - AND cheesecake). A grand total of maybe 8 days. Then I fell off the wagon into Christmas. <br />
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So, I didn't do so well. Actually, I did very well for a short amount of time. Man is it hard! But I read this little quote earlier:<br />
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Being overweight is hard, losing weight is hard, maintaining your weight is hard. Choose your hard.</blockquote>
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That is exactly right. Probably it is true across subject matters - money issues, marriage issues, parenting issues, home remodeling issues! But scripture has something to say about the hard:<br />
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...and we exult in hope of the glory of God. And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. Romans 5:2a-5</blockquote>
So all my theories, and activities and tracking what I eat is all part of my purpose - to hope in the glory of God, and to persevere, developing proven character, and hope, and being filled with the love of God through the Holy Spirit who is given to me. Because really, hope in Him is all I have; who He is, not what I can do. <br />
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Again, I bet that is true across subject matters - money issues, marriage issues, parenting issues, even home remodeling issues! <br />
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And there is <u>rest</u> in that - hoping in who He is, not in anything I can do! Glory! What an unbelievable time we live in - the era of the church.<br />
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Okay, back to the original subject - living free of dessert - Sounds like a B horror movie - "The Attack of the Killer Desserts!" I shall try again - resting in Him, drawing from His strength, and persevering.<br />
Let's Go! Proven Character!Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-90335782323771785462012-01-19T21:25:00.000-08:002012-02-06T22:00:38.831-08:00A Little Lost DogYou know, dogs are funny things. One minute you are thinking, "What in the world possessed us to willingly bring this dirty, hyper, bug-ridden, furry, in-your-face, giant-clawed mess of an animal into our lives?!" Then the next minute you are out in 28 degree weather, at night, with a little flashlight, walking alongside Interstate 10 desperately hoping that you won't find that dirty, hyper, bug-ridden, furry, in-your-face, giant-clawed mess of an animal dead on the side of the road.<br />
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How does this metamorphosis happen? Do they have some kind of brain super-power that takes over all rational thinking? Because I am thinking the President of the United States of America, one of the most powerful men in the world, should not own a dog. Children, yes. Dog, no. Because one night, when he is exhausted from meetings, deciding to blow up small countries, a $1000/plate dinner, and tucking in his daughters, he will look around to find a friendly, non-argumentative, happy-to-see-him face, and little Fido will be missing.<br />
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First, Mr. President will crawl around looking under the bed to see if Fido is just asleep somewhere. Then he will proceed to calling him, waking up his wife and daughters,and asking whether they have seen the dog in the last few hours. Next, Mr. President will enlist the entire Secret Service on a search for Fido. All the while, Mr. President will grow more and more frantic, thinking, "I shouldn't have ignored Fido earlier today," or "I should have let him lick my plate," or "I shouldn't have kicked him when he tinkled on the United States Seal." In a span of 15 minutes, the whole Cabinet will be assembled in the War Room, sleepy and wondering what kind of national emergency is crashing down upon their heads. Mr. President will have the FBI and CIA and HSA sending pictures by fax until finally, as pure terror bursts through the President's brain, he will shout, "I don't care if we have to nuke the country! Get some lights out there!"<br />
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As soon as he storms from the room, there little Fido will be. All wiggles and jumps and licks and wagging tail, so incredibly happy to see his person that it seems his insides will just turn inside out. And Mr. President will drop down on all fours and talk doggy talk (which sounds a lot like Elmer Fudd) and wiggle and wag and happily scoop up and pet that dirty, hyper, bug-ridden, furry, in-your-face, giant-clawed mess of an animal.<br />
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I can't explain what comes over a person. I only know it does. I just hope we don't wake up one morning to find the charred remains of Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvannia and New Jersey.Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-37016172383021789372011-12-14T21:31:00.000-08:002011-12-14T21:31:25.232-08:00A Little AddictionConfession time: My name is Dee Ann, and I have an addiction. It started long ago. I have been addicted for as long as I can remember. I have successfully given up my addiction for different lengths of time, but I have always fallen off the wagon. I think the longest I have been clean is 3 months. <br />
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I am addicted to sugary, buttery, cakey, creamy desserts. I love them, crave them, lose control to them. If sugar was illegal, I would be a strung-out junkie stealing TV's and GPS's so I could get my next fix. By no means am I poking fun at addictions, or making light of the horrible addictions of crack, cocaine, meth, alcohol, cigarettes or any other substance. I am not saying that my love for sugar is as devastating, life-threatening, life-ruining or has the same result as addiction to alcohol, cigarettes, etc. I am just saying that addiction is addiction; and kicking any addiction is very difficult. And the more you give in to your addiction and indulge, the more it gains power over you. <br />
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That 'gaining power over me' is my problem. I want to be solely dedicated to Jesus. But when I am craving sugar, or dessert, or cookies, (or dry, crumbly peanut butter fudge), I am not sold out to Him. I am sold out to my fleshy lusts. Ouch. That is NOT where I want to be.<br />
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The catch with an addiction is the powerful pull it has on you. To choose to NOT follow the addiction is like being caught in the undertow of a tsunami! Just picture trying to swim to the surface after you have been smacked 10 feet deep in a tumbling torrent of boat-crushing water. You might even catch a fleeting glimpse of the life preserver floating on the surface - but it is such a long way away and the water is swirling you around and out of control! Someone may be able to say, "I want to give up sugar, or alcohol, or cigarettes," when the urge is not pressing; but when the craving has reared its ugly head, all resolve is toyingly washed out to sea. <br />
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It would indeed be hopeless if not for the grace of God; He is my only hope! He is the anchor of my soul. So I am going to go dessert-free. I would rather be dessert-free than a slave to dessert! It <u>will </u>be hard. <br />
A change of scenery tomorrow may help - new places, new faces, new distractions. After the first 5 days or so, it does get easier - the power over me gets broken. <br />
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Ready, Set, GO!Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-36723443842084722302011-12-13T22:24:00.000-08:002011-12-13T22:24:09.993-08:00A Little FunTonight was our Homeschooling Mom's Christmas Party. What a lot of fun with some quirky ladies! Sadly, I don't have any pictures to show you. We played some games, ate some yummy food, ate lots of desserts, brought gifts for a single mom and her children, and had a White Elephant gift game. I had a very successful white elephant game. By successful I mean that I got to steal two presents! And the one I ended up with is now my token Christmas decoration for the year. I stole a handmade Pennington treasure (much like Restoration Hardware!) It will probably be a collectible in a few years. It will be very easy to put decorations away this year!<br />
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The gift I brought was not as successful - in that nobody was fighting over it. Come to think of it, my dessert was not very successful either - hardly any was eaten. But I can't blame them. I tried my hand at Peanut Butter Fudge. Yes, even though my very honest daughter told me that only Grandma can make it right (which means mine is NOT right), and she was right again. When I got home from the party, I called my Mom, who is awake and ready to chat at 11 pm, and asked her, "Why is my peanut butter fudge dry and crumbly??" She promptly replied, "I don't know! I just made it today and mine is too gooey!" Finally we decided that I must be cooking it too fast and at too high of a temperature. <br />
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In spite of my personal un-successes, I thoroughly enjoyed these ladies. It is great fun to be with this amazing group of women. Each one is unique and beautiful. The only problem with these get-togethers is that there is never enough time to get to visit with everyone. <br />
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I hope that each one present had as much fun, as many laughs, and received as much love as I did!Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-60122323538518963372011-12-13T08:04:00.001-08:002011-12-13T22:26:02.087-08:00A little PatienceI have an awesome computer. It plays music, makes CD’s, plays the radio, plays movies, lets me type, organizes stuff into charts, tells me what is going on in the world, connects me with my friends, invites me to parties, does my taxes, stores all 8,534 digital pictures. It does so much more than I could ever understand. But one thing my computer excels at is teaching me patience!<br />
You see, to turn my computer on is a major undertaking. Not just because it takes a full 12 minutes to become ready and waiting to fulfill my every command, but because the monitor has a mind of its own. A mind very resistant to becoming active! I literally have to coax the monitor to light up. I have to squeeze the frame of the monitor, and squeeze the back of the monitor, and press on the screen so hard that I am sure the “Secret Monitor Police” are going to burst through my door and arrest me for Monitor Harassment. I have to use both hands, squeeze at the top, bottom, sides, diagonal edges with rhythm and consistency and patience. I squeeze until my arms are actually tired and I am hot! Once the flicker of life comes to the squeeze, I wait expectantly for the picture to follow. Usually it does, for about 45 seconds, then flashes off. Back to squeezing I go. I am the only one in my family with this talent of coercing the monitor to work. I don’t even know how I figured out this technique. I feel confident that IF I read the monitor manual, there would be no information suggesting squeezing the monitor repeatedly and firmly for at least 5 minutes. Probably you would get this sort of helpful advice:<br />
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Troubleshooting: Is the device plugged in securely?<br />
Is the power turned on?<br />
Log into <a href="http://www.blahblahblah.com/">http://www.blahblahblah.com/</a> for live help (where they will ask you to make sure your device is plugged in, then ask you to unplug it, wait 10 seconds and plug it back in).<br />
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I seriously doubt that squeezing the device shows up in any tech manual for any product ever – except those toys that make noise and have a button clearly labeled “Squeeze Here.” Boy, if only my monitor had that label!<br />
It is such a victory when the monitor comes on and stays on! We cheer and I wipe the sweat off my forehead!<br />
Now you can see the great spiritual wisdom of my computer – teaching me Galatians 5! Just don’t get me started on my printer,…..or ipod!<br />
What teaches you patience???Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-34917612339810865662011-12-07T10:40:00.001-08:002011-12-13T22:25:24.098-08:00A Little Process"A little hormonal today," - did you ever have that feeling? Well, that is how I am feeling today, so I am going to work it out in this post! What fun for you! Step by ugly-glorious step!<br />
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<span style="color: black;">~</span><span style="color: black;">Is anything (anything as in events, situations, relationships) really wrong?</span><span style="color: red;"> No.</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">~<span style="color: black;">Is anything drastically different from yesterday?</span> </span><span style="color: red;">No.</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">~<span style="color: black;">Is anything sorta different than yesterday</span>? </span><span style="color: red;">No.</span><br />
~So, house hasn't burned down? No one has attacked me? Relationships are intact? Nothing is really different from yesterday when everything seemed fine? No major uprisings have occurred?<br />
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Okay, if the answer to all of this is no - in <em>reality,</em> not in <em>feelings,</em> it is safe to assume that hormones have come out to play like wild monkeys that have been kept in small cages for one month and then suddenly set free in a jungle. <br />
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Praise God - He is bigger than hormones! So let's get on with the truth. See, you can't just try to empty out those hormones (read 'hormones' as the feelings that hormones bring - doubt, anger, frustration, irritability, fear, confusion, hurt). If you do try to just 'overcome' them, or ignore them, or avoid them, or wish them away, you are really attempting to empty a place that those feelings had been filling. But that is much like the greek god Sisyphus - if you are trying to roll a rock up a hill, you are fighting the whole time - because it just wants to roll back down to its resting place. So you can try to push the hormonal feelings up the hill, but if you don't fill that hole, guess what is going to keep rolling right back to its resting place????<br />
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Time to stop fighting, fill that hole and change that resting place! Fill it with love and truth!<br />
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~God is <em>always</em> good, and He <em>always</em> loves me.<br />
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Thank you Father for your great, overwhelming, all-encompassing, everlasting love. Thank you for always watching over me. Thank you for knowing me - knowing my heart, knowing my needs, knowing my desires. knowing my hurts. Thank you that I KNOW that You are always good. There is no shadow of turning in You. You never turn your back on me! You, the Almighty Creator, full of power, beauty, life and love, delight when I turn to You! Rejoice when I bring my cares to You! Receive me in my humble state!</blockquote>
~ God is bigger than my heart - 1 John 3:20 <br />
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For if our heart condemn us , God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things.</blockquote>
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Hallelujah! I am not left with or stuck with what comes in my heart!!! My heart is not the truth! My feelings are not the truth! He that is bigger, and better is greater than anything - whether in my feelings, heart, or head!!<br />
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~He has not left me as I was! - 1 Peter 1:23<br />
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Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the Word of God, which lives and abides forever! Ohh, AMEN!</blockquote>
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~ He has even given me a hope and consolation for these times - Hebrews 6: 18-20<br />
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That by two immutable (unchangeable) things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a <em>strong</em> consolation, who have <em>fled for refuge</em> to lay hold upon the hope set before us: which hope we have as an <em>anchor of the soul</em>, both sure and steadfast, and which enters into that within the veil, where our forerunner has entered, even Jesus,...</blockquote>
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Oh yes, that hope is an anchor of my soul! My eyes are on things incorruptible and everlasting!<br />
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~He is ready for me - for whatever I bring to Him. He is not surprised, shocked, or unprepared. Hebrews 4:16<br />
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Let us therefore come <u>boldly</u> unto the throne of grace, that we may <em>obtain mercy</em>, and <em>find grace</em> to help in time of need.</blockquote>
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Praise you Lord - the anchor of my soul, making a way for me to come to You, glad when I do, ready to show mercy and give grace.<br />
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NOW, these things can fill that hole to keep the rock of hormonal feelings from rolling back over me and crushing me like a writhing pathetic bug! Different days, different situations, different hormones and different prayers, different scriptures, may show up; but this little process turns my heart from my poor pathetic state and helps me set my eyes on WHO really matters.<br />
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<strong><em>God is always good, and He always loves you!</em></strong>Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-17986863534364379642011-12-02T09:45:00.001-08:002011-12-02T12:13:08.315-08:00Comfort vs. StyleGreetings! I discover more and more that I am rather picky about certain things. But there are different kinds of picky. There is the kind of picky that can't order off a menu without making 10 substitutions. There is the kind of picky that demands that everyone around me (strangers in the grocery store, or other drivers, desk clerks at the drivers license office) live up to my standards. There is the kind of picky that feels compelled to instruct everyone on everything. Now, I am not immune to bouts of these kinds of pickiness, but that is not usually the focus of my pickiness.<br />
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It seems that my brand of pickiness focuses mainly on what is touching my body - as in clothes, shoes, mattresses, temperature. I can't wear polyester. I won't wear acrylic. (Isn't that a paint? How is it also clothing?) Shoes hurt my feet. Mattresses have to be very firm, but not too firm! Temperature needs to range between 60-80 - no higher, not really much lower or only lower in short spells. Certain style shoes can only be worn with certain outfits, but comfort still has to fit in somewhere. And here is the dilemma -<br />
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Comfort vs. Style<br />
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<a href="http://spoilurpets.com/images/Dog%20Carnation%20Argyle%20Turtleneck%20Sweater.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="200" src="http://spoilurpets.com/images/Dog%20Carnation%20Argyle%20Turtleneck%20Sweater.JPG" width="200" /></a>My freshman year roommate went to a Homecoming Football game dressed in tights, loafers, corduroy skirt, long sleeve shirt, wool sweater on top. She looked adorable. The only catch - it was 90 degrees outside with the sun glaring down! She told me - in all sincerity - "Fashion knows no temperature."</div>
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Wow! I was standing there in shorts, short sleeves and sandals! </div>
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Probably you can guess which way I lean in the dilemma - COMFORT. Which brings out the pickiness - a shirt has to be cotton, shouldn't have to be ironed, has to be seasonally appropriate, but also temperature appropriate (which means that it can't make me hot or let me get cold), can't be a dark color on a sunny hot day or a spring color in the fall, and match my shoes and pants which have their own set of requirements! Somedays it is surprising that I can get dressed at all! Especially after having to sleep in a bed that causes me pain in a room that is either too hot or too cold!!!!</div>
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Anyway, I just had to fill you in on some background so that you can understand why I would let my child wear this:</div>
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It is kind of like those screaming 3 year olds in Wal-mart. You can't really blame the kids - you have to blame the parents.</div>Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-762473800686334226.post-12558116924041336202011-11-27T17:45:00.000-08:002011-11-27T17:45:03.201-08:00Dieting De-Bunked<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I have lost a total of 7 pounds since the beginning of October! Pretty awesome. I have really benefitted from the Sparkpeople (<a href="http://www.sparkpeople.com/">www.sparkpeople.com</a>) website. Just getting to see what I am really eating, being honest with myself, and learning some of my eating pitfalls has been instrumental. <br />
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Also, some of the mystery of losing weight has been de-bunked for me. My whole dieting life (since 15?) has been basically yo-yo, hit-or-miss, mostly unsuccessful attempts at losing weight. Which left me (not to sound like a commercial), discouraged, hungry, frustrated, disheartened, broke, frustrated and hungry! I didn't mention thinner because that was not one of the side-effects of all my dieting, pill-popping, or wishful thinking. Failure was the standard result of any weight-loss I attempted. I could cry or scream just from reading this paragraph!!!!! <br />
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But that is not my experience today. The de-bunking of the magical mystery of weight loss has been freeing. Honestly, I would focus focus focus and deprive myself, and go off sugar or desserts, or carbs, or whatever. Possibly I would lose a few pounds. Then the weight loss would mysteriously stop. Even if I continued in whatever program I was attempting religliously. Or maybe, suddently I would gain some weight - while still doing the same thing that caused me to lose weight 2 weeks earlier! Argh. <br />
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But now I learned from some friends a simple theoretical formula. One pound of body weight is equal to 3500 calories. Basal metabolic rate (BMR) is the amount of calories your body needs to just lie in bed all day. So if you consume a total of 3500 calories more or less than your BMR, you gain or lose weight. Our bodies are able to keep a running total. So if you ate 100 calories less than your BMR requirement everyday, then in 35 days you will lose a pound. If you eat 200 less/day, then you will lose a pound in 18 days. If you burn calories while exercising, those calories get added to the total. Example: If for one week, you consumed 200 calories/day less than your BMR, AND exercised so that you burned a total of 1000 calories, you would have 'spent' 2400 calories, resulting in a 1/2 pound weight loss. If you do the same thing the following week, you will have a 2-week weight loss of about 1 1/2 pounds! <br />
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Some online computer programs suggested my BMR is about 2000 calories/day. (Sparkpeople figured my BMR at 1800 calories/day.) SO - if you combine the amount of calories burned during exercise, and the amount of calories under 2000/day and add them up - when they reach 3500 calories, you have essentially lost a pound. Does that make sense? <br />
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So Sparkpeople tracks calories eaten, and calories burned during exercise. So I can have a real count. And the theory is pretty much working. I have lost 7 pounds in about 7 weeks. <br />
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YAY! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Do you know your BMR? <a href="http://www.bmi-calculator.net/bmr-calculator/" target="_blank">Find it here!</a></span><br />
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<a href="javascript:void(0);"><b><span style="color: #6384bd;">Edit Blog Entry</span></b></a> | <a href="javascript:void(0);"><b><span style="color: #6384bd;">Delete Blog Entry</span></b></a> </span>Dee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17353204362853912709noreply@blogger.com4