tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277297548564367252024-03-19T14:20:14.085-07:00THE LONG JOURNEYThere has not been a single day since the world began when the sun was not shining.
The trouble has been with our vision.Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.comBlogger180125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-90688089973894740132010-06-27T13:47:00.000-07:002010-06-27T13:47:32.867-07:00Desiderata by Max Ehrmann<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zQf2rLWf-pg&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zQf2rLWf-pg&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-62480319458573430662010-05-05T20:25:00.001-07:002010-05-08T09:27:32.429-07:00HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY ~ 2010<div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV82tYmZOuE8pQrXdE1WCqmR4QBF4bMZ9yF2i5Hwpk7bBPHV3eRpoqoZTv_NsTVIgnqptzarhGH3ZiENWjqZkyeVXdTO-yRVc81mGeYUx8JELcHpSjM2UIRa9naT9y9r4ah1F-t9g7NZG9/s1600/roses.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467993387882859730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV82tYmZOuE8pQrXdE1WCqmR4QBF4bMZ9yF2i5Hwpk7bBPHV3eRpoqoZTv_NsTVIgnqptzarhGH3ZiENWjqZkyeVXdTO-yRVc81mGeYUx8JELcHpSjM2UIRa9naT9y9r4ah1F-t9g7NZG9/s320/roses.jpg" /></a> <strong><em>A WOMAN'S LIFE</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>Each season of a woman' life, </em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>contains some joy and pain.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>Her life is always changing, </em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>nothing ever stays the same.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>He life is like a blossom, </em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>blooming as she grows</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>She starts out as a tiny rosebud,</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>and turns into a rose.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>Each season holds a special place, </em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>within her loving heart, </em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>It starts with giving birth to one, </em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>with whom she'll never part.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>It seems to be a natural thing,</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>to nurture, love and care. </em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>Her child will grow in love and grace,</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>knowing Mother's there.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>Her wisdom and knowledge will grow over time,</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>the blossom will change through the years</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>her children are now her small little buds, </em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>she'll be there to calm their fears.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>Her child will grow, and so shall she,</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>life seems to move so fast, </em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>but as the world moves along,</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>It's the memories that will last.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>Through the years a woman's role,</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>will change just as the seasons.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>Suddenly her needs are new,</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>and there's never rhyme or reason.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>But deep within her being.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>She knows she's passed the test.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>She's lived, she's loved, she's experienced all.</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>And earned her minutes rest.</em></strong></div><p><strong><em></em></strong></p><p align="center"><em></em></p><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-48849337774979006522010-05-03T07:42:00.000-07:002010-05-03T07:53:43.636-07:00MAY<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-GICut9OQeRKy6APwKwfkeFZmHAJxZtp-t2bit7nMOrH7Rua1n1d65uhKfxtRiNV9MJ6GYDE9_YYKhDZp173torhrXpCPb0PEwK6c9CgOuvGBQoshbjt1IK7E0TwE19rLjBJfIft1zR1_/s1600/iris+van+gogh.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 100px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 130px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467054542726801874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-GICut9OQeRKy6APwKwfkeFZmHAJxZtp-t2bit7nMOrH7Rua1n1d65uhKfxtRiNV9MJ6GYDE9_YYKhDZp173torhrXpCPb0PEwK6c9CgOuvGBQoshbjt1IK7E0TwE19rLjBJfIft1zR1_/s400/iris+van+gogh.jpg" /></a> Do you remember back in childhood</div><div align="center">How we loved the first of May</div><div align="center">When we left our flower-filled baskets</div><div align="center">On doorsteps, then ran away?</div><div align="center">Do you remember how the gayest basket</div><div align="center">Was for the one we loved the best,</div><div align="center">And in it went the blossoms</div><div align="center">That were fairer than the rest;</div><div align="center">Such a beautiful and gracious custom</div><div align="center">Somehow long along the way.</div><div align="center">But it's memories come surging</div><div align="center">As I welcome in the May</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">[Walton]<br /></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#3333ff;">I have so many fond memories of when I was a child. These are the memories that have kept me focused throughout my life. Our family may not have had the most of everything, but we had the best of everything that really counts...thank God for loving parents. </span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-50404881834371559272010-04-15T16:59:00.000-07:002010-04-15T17:00:33.181-07:00TAX DAY<div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;">IT'S APRIL 15, 2010 ~ DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR TAXES ARE ~ FILED, I HOPE</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-49354526894096645832010-02-10T07:41:00.000-08:002010-02-10T07:59:26.094-08:00PERSPECTIVE<div align="center"><em><span style="color:#6666cc;"></span></em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwon4ctm8n8Yz_WzrOz0mr8rm7pS0S7f-DHUKc36A5AFgoiSu2SYIug2tF617z_UdeKMBEDLy8jiPmdusXFM77nQGvBbYo7kCG-RumJ1XXva4J5tG2MamrNUeTvCrsyBs0e57_Whcbg34d/s1600-h/IMGP1612.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436641515930133698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwon4ctm8n8Yz_WzrOz0mr8rm7pS0S7f-DHUKc36A5AFgoiSu2SYIug2tF617z_UdeKMBEDLy8jiPmdusXFM77nQGvBbYo7kCG-RumJ1XXva4J5tG2MamrNUeTvCrsyBs0e57_Whcbg34d/s400/IMGP1612.JPG" /></a> Mary and me, West Yellowstone, Montana </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">PERSPECTIVE</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><em>One day, the father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the express purpose of showing him how poor people life. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.</em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"><em>On their return trip, the father asked his son "how was the trip?" The son replied, "it was great Dad." Did you see how poor people life, replied the father. Oh yeah, said the son. So tell me, what did you learn from this trip, the fathered replied. The son answered:</em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><ul><li><div align="center"><em>I saw that we have one dog and they have four</em></div></li><li><div align="center"><em>We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end.</em></div></li><li><div align="center"><em>We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night.</em></div></li><li><div align="center"><em>Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.</em></div></li><li><div align="center"><em>We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.</em></div></li><li><div align="center"><em>We have servants who serve us, <strong>but they serve others.</strong></em></div></li><li><div align="center"><em>We buy our food, but they grow theirs.</em></div></li><li><div align="center"><em>We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them.</em></div></li></ul><p align="center"><em>The boy's father was speechless. Then his son added, "Thanks Dad for showing me how poor me are."</em></p><p align="center"><em></em></p><p align="center"><em><span style="color:#6666cc;">Isn't perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don't have.</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><span style="color:#6666cc;"></span></em></p><p align="center"></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-44861837468380451242010-02-03T10:39:00.001-08:002010-02-03T10:44:02.657-08:00~ WINTER TIME FUN ~<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_oCAkDZ_BgP7UO56WCp3Kx-ZGI349kmb9jBe5UUDsaaMe5cxCF77uUbcNOrcBE9tswi-b5i7p4glrVbchoUXx0Fp2sweauWCZJHTYJVCtb4TGKr-J19ASLlROPmViN2tDQebwRbGCgk6/s1600-h/!cid_image001_png%4001CAA4BE.png"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434088852649177330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_oCAkDZ_BgP7UO56WCp3Kx-ZGI349kmb9jBe5UUDsaaMe5cxCF77uUbcNOrcBE9tswi-b5i7p4glrVbchoUXx0Fp2sweauWCZJHTYJVCtb4TGKr-J19ASLlROPmViN2tDQebwRbGCgk6/s400/!cid_image001_png%4001CAA4BE.png" /></a> Let's all go outside today, and play in the snow like Kermit the Frog. Let's make snow angels and imagine we are 8-10 years old. For just one day, let's put all the heavy duty stuff going on in the world, on a back-burner and pretend we are kids again.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I guess if you don't have snow, you can just go out and play on the grass. If people think we are "nuts" just let them, just for today.<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-66650553658476643262010-01-31T09:24:00.000-08:002010-01-31T09:37:15.964-08:00FEBRUARY<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9bbEAjz8U4LcpctCCdpZVzgVQ9EvRemLhAGgfJtcXIoigA2yJfk1jpEEL90xc2ESrLG1kI905iqoRpyQyDYM1T236X-OSPkRg9sop1FUzNO3YrzKFxBt0JmfA_eC2370G29jhAfVl5is/s1600-h/thumbnail.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432958601008242290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9bbEAjz8U4LcpctCCdpZVzgVQ9EvRemLhAGgfJtcXIoigA2yJfk1jpEEL90xc2ESrLG1kI905iqoRpyQyDYM1T236X-OSPkRg9sop1FUzNO3YrzKFxBt0JmfA_eC2370G29jhAfVl5is/s400/thumbnail.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">When February tires of her somber dress</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"></span></em> </div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">She tucks ice diamonds in her hair</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"></span></em> </div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">With Charming carelessness...</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"></span></em> </div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">Sometimes she enfolds herself</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"></span></em> </div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">In cloak of ermine snow...</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"></span></em> </div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">And always, at her waist she wears</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"></span></em> </div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">A Valentine-red bow !</span></em></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-50690742137907627582010-01-30T11:51:00.000-08:002010-01-31T07:19:10.520-08:00SAD NEWS !!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRXb6mkq0gHABEJVmqfoWQb12wTQ6TC7Gx-h_bF2izQHHThNyMU_X8dDak40y8wyYBs1GcVB80hOv2VTKO-awkbxNC6Q6VAUdBxuIh1NYM4hmT15z8DJBFMUyo6s8XVGKh26hbAt_pkDj/s1600-h/1104875097708080_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 48px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 80px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432623440762863970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRXb6mkq0gHABEJVmqfoWQb12wTQ6TC7Gx-h_bF2izQHHThNyMU_X8dDak40y8wyYBs1GcVB80hOv2VTKO-awkbxNC6Q6VAUdBxuIh1NYM4hmT15z8DJBFMUyo6s8XVGKh26hbAt_pkDj/s400/1104875097708080_1.jpg" /></a> <em>Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.</em></div><p><em></em></p><p align="center"><em>Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours.</em></p><p align="center"><em></em></p><p align="center"><em>Aunt Jemina delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was considered a very smart cookie, but wasted much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he still was a crusty old man and considered a positive roll model for millions.</em></p><p align="center"><em></em></p><p align="center"><em>Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, three children: John Dough, Jane Dough and Dosey Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.</em></p><p align="center"><em></em></p><p align="center"><em>The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes. </em></p><p align="center"><em></em></p><p align="center"><em><span style="color:#ff6600;">If this makes you smile for even a brief second, please rise to the occasion and take time to pass it on and share that smile with someone else who may be having a crummy day and kneads a laugh !!</span></em></p><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-28710329644338501562010-01-08T18:18:00.000-08:002010-01-09T06:10:11.135-08:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTwLKth0-J0VPOKVYMWfqrhioumd9LeOCjQn2fvyId6t9_wpLMU9xtjuPnCSRiWktzDov1_nuaMD0l7GRpeqmL9tRPCb_UGjPq3rJ_ap6yj3z8fMb5DTBAzsNLdACPkm56nnIK63Pzrf4/s1600-h/rockingchair_small.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424559164129163170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTwLKth0-J0VPOKVYMWfqrhioumd9LeOCjQn2fvyId6t9_wpLMU9xtjuPnCSRiWktzDov1_nuaMD0l7GRpeqmL9tRPCb_UGjPq3rJ_ap6yj3z8fMb5DTBAzsNLdACPkm56nnIK63Pzrf4/s320/rockingchair_small.jpg" /></a> <em>People with mental problems are our neighbors. They are members of our congregation, members of our families; they are everywhere in this country. If we ignore their cries for help, we will be continuing to participate in the anguish from which these cries for help come. A problem of this magnitude will not go away. Because it will not go away, and because of our spiritual commitments, we are all compelled to take action. </em></div><p align="center">~Rosalynn Carter~</p><p align="left">These thoughts are taken from Mental Health Ministries. Please help erase the stigma of mental illness by saying a prayer, and welcoming a mentally ill person into your congregation, regardless of their faith. Welcoming a mentally ill person into your community, church, school or just anywhere, gives them a sense of belonging and this is one thing that will help them recover their identity, which has been lost by mental illness. </p><p align="left"><br /></p><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-11974979900791871282009-12-27T08:30:00.000-08:002009-12-28T07:34:24.652-08:00UPON THE WINGS OF EAGLES<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt7SCwtDc6I-SSTxQSE6c3AIcs0FyhmYlOacLJbkUt6QgTOPErxZMhGCeh6Fn7IPTgiuQ9eJzuDXtrlyXmIiPvnQyI_ghIMMuPeIDIPhl8hmF-283iJ_dA6WIShT0iU1UhuXED1kmOYQkq/s1600-h/ts.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 128px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 95px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419954603970897394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt7SCwtDc6I-SSTxQSE6c3AIcs0FyhmYlOacLJbkUt6QgTOPErxZMhGCeh6Fn7IPTgiuQ9eJzuDXtrlyXmIiPvnQyI_ghIMMuPeIDIPhl8hmF-283iJ_dA6WIShT0iU1UhuXED1kmOYQkq/s320/ts.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center">Upon the wings of eagles, build your every dream....</div><div align="center">Don't back down if they appear and sound, to be a bit extreme....</div><div align="center">Focus all your energy in a good and positive space....</div><div align="center">And you'll be ready for anything that will meet you face to face....</div><div align="center">Some will always tell you, you can't do this or that....</div><div align="center">But the ones who tell you things like this,</div><div align="center">Will stay exactly where they are at....</div><div align="center">So build your dreams, they're yours to build,</div><div align="center">And open up your skies...</div><div align="center">And when they start to be fulfilled is when you'll realize....</div><div align="center">You're the only one who'll hold you back;</div><div align="center">Your attitude will make or break you...</div><div align="center">So if upon this life you feel, you want to make your mark,</div><div align="center">Go for it friends, cause you hold the light,</div><div align="center">That will guide you through the dark.</div><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#993399;"> The above poem was provided courtesy of the Purple Heart Service Foundation. My grandson Kort, received two Purple Hearts, along with the Bronze Star and Medal of Valor for his two tours of duty in Iraq. 'Lest we forget....</span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;">HAVE A HAPPY AND HEALTHY 2010 !!!</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-6457667056072029622009-12-04T12:45:00.000-08:002009-12-04T18:20:11.018-08:0010 RULES FOR BEING HUMAN<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeckW3hPAwydQX26dkEdDXSxBYbKJUzdn9_2qMnBakDfLZ26YfxNKRWCFQeiHWWzzq_ua0RnVuiOA-EfcyeLelUKm1JIkCqojJi4nPqeAagmTnZ6T-LOggJUmidu4q7CZO3XHz9rvJl8S8/s1600-h/rainbow.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411485742905654386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeckW3hPAwydQX26dkEdDXSxBYbKJUzdn9_2qMnBakDfLZ26YfxNKRWCFQeiHWWzzq_ua0RnVuiOA-EfcyeLelUKm1JIkCqojJi4nPqeAagmTnZ6T-LOggJUmidu4q7CZO3XHz9rvJl8S8/s400/rainbow.jpg" /></a> </p><ol><li><div align="center">You will receive a body. You may like it or hate it, but it's your to keep for the entire period.</div></li><li><div align="left">You will learn lessons. You are enrolled in a full-time informal school called "life."</div></li><li><div align="left">There are no mistakes, only lessons. Growth is a process of trial, error, and experimentation. The "failed" experiments are as much a part of the process as the experiments that ultimately work.</div></li><li><div align="left">Lessons are repeated until they are learned. A lesson will be presented to you in various forms until you have learned it. When you have learned it, you can go on to the next lesson.</div></li><li><div align="left">Learning lessons does not end. There's no part of life that doesn't contain its lessons. If you're alive, that means there are still lessons to be learned.</div></li><li><div align="left">There is not better place than here. When your there has become a here, you will simply obtain another there that will look better than here.</div></li><li><div align="left">Other people are merely mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects to something you love or hate about yourself.</div></li><li><div align="left">What you make of your life is up to you. You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects to you something you love or hate about yourself.</div></li><li><div align="left">Your answers lie within you. The answers to life's questions lie within you. All you need to do is look, listen, and trust.</div></li><li><div align="left">You will forget all of this !!</div></li></ol><p align="left"><br /></p><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-35686241184424756692009-11-24T08:21:00.000-08:002009-11-24T15:28:18.177-08:00HAPPY THANKSGIVING<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 263px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 163px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407706429402993106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBN6q0RewtU_FiCVuXFsnJuwgUTr2H_UedQt2Z_kr91zENmk5GbR0wZqubp5S8MAwyvVwqpQ_TXybvUz92EKFTeWu9V_vPxMjpaMpbQEyEL0ANRkhbp6Fwh16Pk7QxLPlcD-i1zaXx4ot3/s400/ts.jpg" /><br /><div align="center"><em>There is something in the very season of the year that gives a charm to the festivity.</em></div><p><em></em></p><p align="center"><em>Our thoughts are more concentrated; your friendly sympathies more aroused.</em></p><p align="center"><em></em></p><p align="center"><em>We feel more sensibly the charm of each other's society, and are brought more closely by dependence on each other for enjoyment.</em></p><p align="center"><em></em></p><p align="center"><em>HAVE A SAFE AND HAPPY THANKSGIVING. AND PLEASE BE GRATEFUL FOR ALL THE BOUNTIES WE ENJOY AS A NATION. </em></p><p align="center"><em>PLEASE REMEMBER OUR MILITARY STATIONED SO FAR FROM THEIR HOMES AND FAMILIES. THEY ARE THE UNSUNG HEROES THIS HOLIDAY SEASON.</p></em><div align="center"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-62856143592941995012009-11-21T13:19:00.001-08:002009-11-22T09:56:11.323-08:00A POSITIVE THOUGHT<div align="left">I am posting the final <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">positive</span> thought today, because tomorrow we will be out of town. We are going to our daughter's house to celebrate an early Thanksgiving with her family. I hope who ever saw these cute posts enjoyed them as much as I did. To me, they all send a message of how to treat one another in a world that sometimes forgets we are all struggling in our daily lives, just with different issues. <em>Let him who is without fault, cast the first stone</em>.</div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQp5FaOmUzXIdQdw4bDQa7WmONpYV1wXl9o6FJq2XFeJDvqMcR1GEX6zL7MxofI7kTrs9K7v4JTCxyDlp1rq5PVL_FHLCbmy4gDmVlLFHOWlIP4o0BeEbGsSWkvEkZiJH0_gsgG-vi2Qe9/s1600/ATTA101010161710.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 153px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 231px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406669924176208802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQp5FaOmUzXIdQdw4bDQa7WmONpYV1wXl9o6FJq2XFeJDvqMcR1GEX6zL7MxofI7kTrs9K7v4JTCxyDlp1rq5PVL_FHLCbmy4gDmVlLFHOWlIP4o0BeEbGsSWkvEkZiJH0_gsgG-vi2Qe9/s200/ATTA101010161710.gif" /></a></p><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it. If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it. He sends you flowers every spring, and a sunrise every morning.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Whenever you want to talk, He'll listen. He could live anywhere in this universe, and He chose your heart.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>What about the Christmas gift He sent you in Bethlehem; not to mention that Friday at Calvary.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><strong>FACE IT, HE'S CRAZY ABOUT YOU !!!</strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-42986911639600654962009-11-20T12:13:00.000-08:002009-11-20T12:16:18.433-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tsFhu2o8uL57zpHTf1AvIPjyXnoY4jxV57vV8QSKv1hwL4-aoEnHvDiqC2BPYFera5EdgkzUODo621Q3iwijRLB4yu-rA3XGH3rkqcUYOE4IvfV36wfVr6-btph8ULiLhHcnlHXVta1x/s1600/ATTE141414212214.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 172px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 177px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406281779480457042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tsFhu2o8uL57zpHTf1AvIPjyXnoY4jxV57vV8QSKv1hwL4-aoEnHvDiqC2BPYFera5EdgkzUODo621Q3iwijRLB4yu-rA3XGH3rkqcUYOE4IvfV36wfVr6-btph8ULiLhHcnlHXVta1x/s200/ATTE141414212214.gif" /></a><br /><div> </div><div><strong>7. LIFT UP !!!</strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div>your prayers........'Do not worry about anything;</div><div>instead PRAY ABOUT EVERYTHING.'</div><div> </div><div>Philippians 4:6</div><div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-35701645923338152932009-11-20T05:15:00.000-08:002009-11-20T05:20:14.134-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6D8f7RHjXp6U7lfKO5-DohPxAvsKuoFftwhyphenhyphenKT2-wzX0clUZwC3dL-bpJZL1nGTVVltBZq3U2N1jm29MNW89LMyoZlAZ1fqfDSl6ACNyevxj-K2_Xh0bccOe7_gtkc15XdDnFdgnsrec/s1600/ATT12181818272818.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406174135801716562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6D8f7RHjXp6U7lfKO5-DohPxAvsKuoFftwhyphenhyphenKT2-wzX0clUZwC3dL-bpJZL1nGTVVltBZq3U2N1jm29MNW89LMyoZlAZ1fqfDSl6ACNyevxj-K2_Xh0bccOe7_gtkc15XdDnFdgnsrec/s200/ATT12181818272818.gif" /></a><br /><div><strong>6. REACH UP !!!</strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div>For something higher. 'Trust in the Lord with</div><div>all your heart, and lean not unto your own</div><div>understanding.</div><div> </div><div>In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He </div><div>will direct your path.'</div><div> </div><div>Proverbs 3:5-6</div><div> </div><div> God answers Knee-Mail !!</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-70536488816436128322009-11-19T05:34:00.000-08:002009-11-19T05:46:34.146-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWt2qhnTw6bWqeyhJ_D7Clv8wIY02G6JdwvUhTbmVba-CN6UnWJtaqDbC7_5-PFdK8C8uOmnvOdkz7ohxVc4OeR8uXOkjktoUUTZwBcyvnxLZN_ovQ3kSR7pyZeeRZs05CRcTprCuLVWgm/s1600/ATT777711127.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 182px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405807854144483250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWt2qhnTw6bWqeyhJ_D7Clv8wIY02G6JdwvUhTbmVba-CN6UnWJtaqDbC7_5-PFdK8C8uOmnvOdkz7ohxVc4OeR8uXOkjktoUUTZwBcyvnxLZN_ovQ3kSR7pyZeeRZs05CRcTprCuLVWgm/s200/ATT777711127.gif" /></a><br /><div></div><div></div><div><strong>5. LOOK UP !!</strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong></div><div>to the Lord. 'I can do everything </div><div>through Christ who strengthens me'.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Philippians 4:13</div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>GOD ANSWERS KNEE-MAIL !!!</div><div></div><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-83675580211659127382009-11-18T05:18:00.000-08:002009-11-18T16:03:08.406-08:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UZo4IRfGukaMf5TnRYYNd2vib_EefEw3X4vlNL3gKAPBpTvt6BzXDoNzgFIZpiSXpX05cPv0KmEmEx538YtPWFZ6aXOPsOMNUqwiiefB959YCM7mPm8FgX8v2o2VdbyEO3i2s9Zcs_cT/s1600/ATT66669106.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 193px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405432575013809026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UZo4IRfGukaMf5TnRYYNd2vib_EefEw3X4vlNL3gKAPBpTvt6BzXDoNzgFIZpiSXpX05cPv0KmEmEx538YtPWFZ6aXOPsOMNUqwiiefB959YCM7mPm8FgX8v2o2VdbyEO3i2s9Zcs_cT/s200/ATT66669106.gif" /></a><br /><br /><strong>4. STAND UP .....</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />for what you believe in. Stand for something or you<br />will fall for anything.<br /><br />'Let us not be weary in doing good; for at the proper<br />time, we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.<br /><br />Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good.'<br /><br />Galatians 6:9-10<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><strong>GOD ANSWERS KNEE -MAIL !!!</strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-32887240380503102792009-11-17T09:12:00.000-08:002009-11-17T09:20:00.817-08:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyr-QZdmAOrmNZOXoHdIShbyq08fpGPVOm78_VadXN4OHWpvC3OWEMMk1kVLP72VINH_iOwwlk7uHUqNWn5OlUONO6eQU2r91nwWnEX5kah9mEtpN8dT8l94JxcKi4DbdTqdkiZhGJPgk/s1600/ATT5555785.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 119px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405121770209217250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyr-QZdmAOrmNZOXoHdIShbyq08fpGPVOm78_VadXN4OHWpvC3OWEMMk1kVLP72VINH_iOwwlk7uHUqNWn5OlUONO6eQU2r91nwWnEX5kah9mEtpN8dT8l94JxcKi4DbdTqdkiZhGJPgk/s200/ATT5555785.gif" /></a><br /></div><div align="left"><strong>3. SHUT UP !!</strong></div><div align="left"><strong></strong></div><div align="left">Say nice things and learn to listen. God gave us two ears and one mouth, so He must have meant for us to do twice as much listening as talking.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">'He who guards his lips guards his soul.'</div><div align="left"></div><p> </p><p align="center">Proverbs 13:3</p><p align="center">God answers Knee-Mail</p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-11369257135595280982009-11-16T13:54:00.000-08:002009-11-16T15:56:00.759-08:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxYC5KQe1tXWTfiyLB3wkicqnjx7nKU4PIzMEVdETOcn3kG3moN9OjhBYe4v1Y6sDz1IvfTjGQ-GFdzeqXAsmKdje59gw35xwJKRHJDTzKMl6BdmX3xtkfW1d99DrCWaQUmoy2r-BG299/s1600/ATT3333453.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404823403437676242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxYC5KQe1tXWTfiyLB3wkicqnjx7nKU4PIzMEVdETOcn3kG3moN9OjhBYe4v1Y6sDz1IvfTjGQ-GFdzeqXAsmKdje59gw35xwJKRHJDTzKMl6BdmX3xtkfW1d99DrCWaQUmoy2r-BG299/s200/ATT3333453.gif" /></a><br /><br /><strong>2. DRESS UP !!!</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />The best way to dress up is to put on a smile. A smile is an inexpensive way to improve your looks. 'The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.'<br /><br />I Samuel 16:7</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="center">GOD ANSWERS KNEE-MAIL !!!!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-32805867399058835172009-11-15T14:58:00.000-08:002009-11-15T15:15:23.028-08:00THE SEVEN UPS !!!<div align="center">For the next week, I will be posting the Seven Ups !! They are meant to be uplifting and send a positive message. </div><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzLLw5fnqCNknkpCWD9JthS6C6oY9EmzILyKMP2BgsYThD8b9j5aBcV7fEiUeSgKgs5c8SoP3iIOBQIB6RNiePWeAjL7nCgNu3fpwdHC_dUBxHNrlgBDPEDY5kUqZ8NBNY_1b6qditQ6X/s1600-h/ATT2222232.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 197px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404471664783479666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzLLw5fnqCNknkpCWD9JthS6C6oY9EmzILyKMP2BgsYThD8b9j5aBcV7fEiUeSgKgs5c8SoP3iIOBQIB6RNiePWeAjL7nCgNu3fpwdHC_dUBxHNrlgBDPEDY5kUqZ8NBNY_1b6qditQ6X/s200/ATT2222232.gif" /></a><br /><strong>1. WAKE UP !</strong><br /><br />Decide to have a good day. 'This is the day he Lord hath made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.<br /><br />Psalms 118:24<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">GOD ANSWERS KNEE-MAIL </div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-82282942305951197562009-11-08T08:42:00.000-08:002009-11-08T08:45:11.804-08:00STRENGTH<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2JVl2xsffKGY1czK0h0NqG3vM9sn7sB1yOg5C5NFLUX07cTdTBw7FKn7hgMHobWe8PP-odUA24_i7gcXYTWYuRq8MvGH0J8i6SExcIxdkVK8WQFnAHIyhNDO140jF4l31XxOY3g8p0qIx/s1600-h/angel.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 125px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401774617241619314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2JVl2xsffKGY1czK0h0NqG3vM9sn7sB1yOg5C5NFLUX07cTdTBw7FKn7hgMHobWe8PP-odUA24_i7gcXYTWYuRq8MvGH0J8i6SExcIxdkVK8WQFnAHIyhNDO140jF4l31XxOY3g8p0qIx/s400/angel.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;">Be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-58328176728279783372009-11-07T07:40:00.000-08:002009-11-07T07:42:58.976-08:00<div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;">Inaction breeds doubt and fear. </span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;">Action breeds confidence and courage.</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"> If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it.</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"> Go out and get busy.</span></em></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-82758718238593073252009-10-31T16:30:00.000-07:002009-10-31T16:50:26.120-07:00NOVEMBER<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpKACsKy_vYSTsJNiAW5HmVojVsxKWfPHPHCdOAEVwJCe_4EiOzJQoI49XEYE1h_iUY6-PtZH5RUpu_aZ0ChH1lTqzoCET4UUkKyPp67JAQvaTbZTgnrSj9zEEQWdFmof3YLQTa8B_Bvbg/s1600-h/bittersweet.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 128px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 128px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398913926419626418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpKACsKy_vYSTsJNiAW5HmVojVsxKWfPHPHCdOAEVwJCe_4EiOzJQoI49XEYE1h_iUY6-PtZH5RUpu_aZ0ChH1lTqzoCET4UUkKyPp67JAQvaTbZTgnrSj9zEEQWdFmof3YLQTa8B_Bvbg/s400/bittersweet.jpg" /></a> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">November is a lonely waif</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">With wistful wide-eyed ways,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Subdued by the flamboyance of</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">The bright October days.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">And</span> feeling very small before</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">December's sparkling glance.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Never mind, November, twirl</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Your tattered skirts and dance,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Dance a bittersweet ballet</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">With the leaves that fly away!</span></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-90016013136479351482009-10-23T07:43:00.001-07:002009-10-23T08:24:18.905-07:00BEAUTY IS IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZi2cuu81pTARaS63rbxBcvOz6XeDkYvyYn8X34AjbfjLNy-gvAo5YzkxCOiEKt-wmx7MO1FMKaKn6U7uvSzKCidq_mrq53Lk4xvDPPfWzkxBySAsJ6561ROLFNR-kWrz04tbRy0P19TZ/s1600-h/violin+player.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395807473490081682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZi2cuu81pTARaS63rbxBcvOz6XeDkYvyYn8X34AjbfjLNy-gvAo5YzkxCOiEKt-wmx7MO1FMKaKn6U7uvSzKCidq_mrq53Lk4xvDPPfWzkxBySAsJ6561ROLFNR-kWrz04tbRy0P19TZ/s320/violin+player.jpg" /></a> <strong>Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007.</strong> The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approximately 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After <strong>3 minutes</strong> a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then <strong>4 minutes </strong>later, the violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk. <strong>6 minutes </strong>later a young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.<br /><br /><strong>10 minutes </strong>later a 3-year-old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but his mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.<br /><br />The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money, but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32. After 1 hour, he finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.<br /><br />And now for the rest of the story....<br /><br />No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars (no doubt a Stradivarius). Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.<br /><br /><strong>This is a true story. </strong>Joshua Bell playing incognito in the Metro Station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste, and people's priorities. The question raised: "In a common place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?<br /><br /><em>This story made me stop and think. How many times in our daily lives do we see someone and judge them. This is the way it is with mental illness. People really don't take the time to look at the person, but judge them by their appearances. People with mental illnesses (and their families) face challenges every day. Many times they are shunned by society. From experience, I can tell you first hand, that people with mental illnesses are kind, talented, and giving. They are simply folks that have been dealt a different card in life. The stigma surrounding mental illness can be overwhelming. Even some mental health providers don't understand the dynamics of the person suffering and their family members. How many fine musicians are out there...how many artists....how many potential doctors, had mental illness not struck? Many times family members of a person suffering from mental illness, have to be content to simply hear the small sounds, the small gifts, the small contributions that somone with mental illness has to offer. It is a very lonely walk.........</em><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-627729754856436725.post-90445180627856703242009-10-06T12:27:00.000-07:002009-10-06T12:41:43.365-07:00THE CLOTHES LINE<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhePN93tO3UQPwyLInzBPjeWWigCCumIeHYFyqEu9f8KaYZ7lRnj614oKM65U76Pslpkzo_i8uw-weJG4tJCdYUiUHUvk1-rIJEk_mJUbWTESpR3yXAaiGBbtFYjCjHfRJbARq33fb-Bwov/s1600-h/thumbnailCA5BIMBR.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 103px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389571142464561554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhePN93tO3UQPwyLInzBPjeWWigCCumIeHYFyqEu9f8KaYZ7lRnj614oKM65U76Pslpkzo_i8uw-weJG4tJCdYUiUHUvk1-rIJEk_mJUbWTESpR3yXAaiGBbtFYjCjHfRJbARq33fb-Bwov/s200/thumbnailCA5BIMBR.jpg" /></a> A clothesline was a news <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">forecast</span> to neighbors passing by,</div><div align="center">There were no secrets you could keep, when clothes were hung to dry.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">It also was a friendly link for neighbors always knew</div><div align="center">If company had stopped on by to spend a night or two.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">For they you'd see the "fancy sheets" and towels upon the line;</div><div align="center">You'd see the "company table cloths" with intricate designs.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">The line announced a baby's birth from folks who lived inside-</div><div align="center">As brand new infants clothes were hung, so carefully with pride!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">The ages of the children could so readily be known</div><div align="center">By watching how the sizes changed, you'd know how much they'd grown!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">It also told when illness struck, as extra sheets were hung;</div><div align="center">Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe too, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">haphazardly</span> were strung.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">It also said, "Gone on vacation now" when lines hung limp and bare,</div><div align="center">It told, "we're back" when full lines sagged with not an inch to spare!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">New folks in town were scorned upon if wash was dingy and gray,</div><div align="center">As neighbors carefully raised their brows, and looked the other way.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">But clotheslines now are of the past, for dryers make work much less.</div><div align="center">Now what goes on inside a home, is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">anybody's</span> guess!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I really miss that way of life, it was a friendly sign.</div><div align="center">When neighbors knew each other best, by what hung on the line.<br /></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for visiting my blog. I am always happy to hear from you.</div>Grandma Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08928374146145770722noreply@blogger.com1