<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896</id><updated>2026-02-28T12:09:46.190-08:00</updated><category term="Facebook"/><title type='text'>A Long Obedience</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>54</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-6981539661939701966</id><published>2013-04-04T14:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-04-04T14:27:10.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guns Don&#39;t Kill People</title><content type='html'>Once again, my silent writing self has been pulled from lethargy to respond to a Facebook post I have been receiving from numerous sources.&amp;nbsp; Many of the posters are people I love and respect and I refuse to engage in FB political conversations as I have seen too many of them deteriorate into nasty exchanges.&amp;nbsp; Here is the picture that has been posted:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLk8Xn-KQFckovpNSzvX8nzZewQbT-QmWtTKX3HioVvNdrCeTL2Ck-Brv92xSkfJVgP-bXKOjtqeOaGcBh_aT8pbxeXn8PgxxSaJTrqYgi2OVmxcab7JMIqdv0LbJXMSYiHcr0-bll74v/s1600/gun+thing.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLk8Xn-KQFckovpNSzvX8nzZewQbT-QmWtTKX3HioVvNdrCeTL2Ck-Brv92xSkfJVgP-bXKOjtqeOaGcBh_aT8pbxeXn8PgxxSaJTrqYgi2OVmxcab7JMIqdv0LbJXMSYiHcr0-bll74v/s320/gun+thing.jpg&quot; width=&quot;247&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Okay, this is a clever piece, meant to point out the ridiculous assumption that a gun could actually kill someone without a person involved.&amp;nbsp; In other words, the point that I DO get is that a gun, in and of itself, should not be blamed for the mayhem we have in our current society.&amp;nbsp; And right, spoons don&#39;t make people fat.&amp;nbsp; But here is another example of misplaced blame:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Yesterday I placed my car in the driveway, full of gas, key in the ignition, ready to go!&amp;nbsp; While I was gone, many other cars had passed and children had played in the street and even pedestrians were not killed or hurt.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
I think my drift here is obvious, so I won&#39;t belabor the comparison. Yet who among us argues about the need for licenses to drive, an age limit, driver&#39;s ed classes, speed limits, traffic lights, safer cars, airbags, drunk driving laws, road signs, insurance, laws about uninsured motorists, jail terms for those who, even unwittingly, kill or maim innocent bystanders.&amp;nbsp; Just this last week, we here in Seattle were heartbroken by a family being mowed down by a drunk driver while crossing the street. And today we have another example.&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href=&quot;http://seattletimes.com/html/localnews/2020677701_duilawsxml.html&quot;&gt;There is a hue and cry to make and enforce tougher laws,&lt;/a&gt; requiring ignition locks on cars to keep the impaired from driving, harsher sentencing in DUI cases, better signage and crosswalks on the busy street.&amp;nbsp; And how do we justify a law that requires us to wear seat belts?&amp;nbsp; Aren&#39;t my civil liberties being attacked by that law?&amp;nbsp; Is it enough that a seat belt law saves lives and saves taxpayer dollars in medical costs?&amp;nbsp; NO ONE suggests taking cars out of the equation, just as many sane and rational people do not suggest removing all of society&#39;s guns. But we are a society that makes laws when one person&#39;s liberties impact the &lt;b&gt;life and liberty of others!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What continues to baffle me is that we are unable to bring that same rational thinking and conversation to the issue of guns.&amp;nbsp; Why do I have to read stories like the one in &lt;a href=&quot;http://seattletimes.com/html/nationworld/2020708515_gunresearchxml.html&quot;&gt;today&#39;s Seattle Times? &lt;/a&gt;Here&#39;s a quote:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
Each year, lawmakers quietly tuck language into spending bills that 
restricts the ability of the federal government to regulate the firearms
 industry and combat gun crime.&lt;br /&gt;

It’s the reason the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) 
can’t research gun violence, the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) 
can’t use data to detect firearms traffickers, and the Bureau of 
Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives (ATF) can’t require background
 checks on older guns.&lt;br /&gt;

Since the late 1970s, more than a dozen provisions have been added to
 must-pass spending bills with no hearings, no debate and no vote, in a 
way that’s designed to circumvent the usual legislative process. . . .&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
Congress has approved stand-alone bills on firearms before, but as 
Capitol Hill becomes more acrimonious, lawmakers have attached measures 
to other bills. A provision allowing owners to bring guns into national 
parks, for example, was tacked onto a bill outlining restrictions for 
credit-card companies.&lt;/blockquote&gt;
What will it take for our country to wake up to the fact that the rules around gun ownership and use could stand some tweaking and still allow gun owners to co-exist with the rest of us?&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m not ready to give up my car, but I will respect the laws of the land and do whatever I can to protect the lives and liberties of everyone else while using my car!&amp;nbsp; Is it too much to ask gun owners for the same respect?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/6981539661939701966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2013/04/guns-dont-kill-people.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/6981539661939701966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/6981539661939701966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2013/04/guns-dont-kill-people.html' title='Guns Don&#39;t Kill People'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLk8Xn-KQFckovpNSzvX8nzZewQbT-QmWtTKX3HioVvNdrCeTL2Ck-Brv92xSkfJVgP-bXKOjtqeOaGcBh_aT8pbxeXn8PgxxSaJTrqYgi2OVmxcab7JMIqdv0LbJXMSYiHcr0-bll74v/s72-c/gun+thing.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-8145523780217793410</id><published>2013-02-16T11:22:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2013-02-16T11:22:45.761-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guns!</title><content type='html'>After a long silence, the last thing I want to write about is something extremely controversial.&amp;nbsp; However, I have just finished listening to&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.amazon.com/Guns/dp/B00BEBZX1K/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1361041739&amp;amp;sr=1-1&amp;amp;keywords=guns&quot;&gt; Guns, a 49-minute essay&lt;/a&gt; by Stephen King, sold on Amazon for $.99 in the Kindle edition or $.69 for the audio version.&amp;nbsp; I believe you have to be a member of Audible.com to download the audio version.&amp;nbsp; Either way, it is a must read/hear for everyone. Except for the expletives, I can heartily recommend this to everyone.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;As I said, I hesitate to start a bitter conversation with anyone about the 2nd Amendment.&amp;nbsp; I do not believe that guns should be outlawed and unfortunately there is very little room in the conversation for a middle ground.&amp;nbsp; I think this author has found such a middle ground and I am happy to hear it put forth so eloquently.&amp;nbsp; Following is a summary, copied from the Amazon website, that describes the book:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
In a pulls-no-punches essay intended to provoke rational discussion, 
Stephen King sets down his thoughts about gun violence in America. Anger
 and grief in the wake of the shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary School 
are palpable in this urgent piece of writing, but no less remarkable are
 King&#39;s keen thoughtfulness and composure as he explores the contours of
 the gun-control issue and constructs his argument for what can and 
should be done. &lt;br /&gt;
King&#39;s earnings from the sale of this essay will go to the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence. &lt;br /&gt;
Stephen King is the author of &lt;i&gt;11/22/63, Under the Dome, Carrie, The Shining,&lt;/i&gt; and many other best-selling works.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;The overwhelming response from readers of the Kindle Single edition of &lt;i&gt;Guns&lt;/i&gt; underscores the great need for thoughtful discourse on the issue of guns in America. I&#39;m thrilled Audible is bringing &lt;i&gt;Guns&lt;/i&gt; to the quickly growing audience of audiobook listeners.&quot; (Stephen King)&lt;/blockquote&gt;
Please consider taking the time to listen to or read this well-thought-out call for discussion.&amp;nbsp; </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/8145523780217793410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2013/02/guns.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/8145523780217793410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/8145523780217793410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2013/02/guns.html' title='Guns!'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-371026896194384579</id><published>2013-01-02T11:50:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2013-01-02T11:50:58.902-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolutions</title><content type='html'>As the New Year begins, I am resolving to write more on my blog.&amp;nbsp; Not because I need people to read it -- just because I need to write.&amp;nbsp; I have been uninspired for quite some time but continue to write blog posts in my head so alas, it is time.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m going to use the many folders of &quot;quotations&quot; and funny bits and pieces that I have saved for years and years.&amp;nbsp; And then, perhaps, I can toss the primary source and let those folders full of trivia go!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;So the first bit of trivia is a quote from William Blake:&amp;nbsp; &quot;He who would do good to another, must do it in Minute Particulars.&amp;nbsp; General Good is the plea of the scoundrel hypocrite &amp;amp; flatterer....&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;My resolve for the year 2013, along with writing more, is to try to do good in minute particulars.&amp;nbsp; What have you resolved?&amp;nbsp; </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/371026896194384579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2013/01/resolutions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/371026896194384579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/371026896194384579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2013/01/resolutions.html' title='Resolutions'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-3957204438291970496</id><published>2012-12-23T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-12-23T21:36:22.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Creche Revisited</title><content type='html'>I&#39;ve been silent for about six months.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps I will get reinspired in the new year.&amp;nbsp; But I can&#39;t let my Christmas traditions post go unpublished so here it is, repeated yearly on about this date!&amp;nbsp; Caleb is now 6 years old so this is a very old post, but one of my favorites.&amp;nbsp; Merry Christmas to all!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;This is one of my favorite Christmas stories and I post it here again as Christmas approaches. &amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One of my regrets in life is that my husband and I simply did not manage
 to have a lot of traditions in our home that carried on from year to 
year. I’m not exactly sure why this happened, but we just didn’t seem to
 have very many traditions that stuck. We tried getting our Christmas 
tree together a few times, had birthday parties for Jesus, opened 
presents at night, in the morning, collected ornaments -- some years! In
 fact, when I recently asked my daughter what we should have to eat on 
Christmas Eve, she stated that our family “tradition” was to have 
something different every year. That’s one way of reframing it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One thing we did have, however, was a Christmas crèche. When Ken and I 
were first married, we bought a complete crèche scene and painstakingly 
painted and antiqued every piece. We still have all the pieces, minus 
one chip out of the donkey’s ear, knocked off the shelf by the family 
cat. We never did find that missing ear and finally decided that the 
crèche was just perfect without it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As our children grew, however, the crèche took on “other” meanings 
during the Christmas season. Our kids had a lot of fun changing the 
scene. One year the shepherds and wise men formed a rock band, complete 
with little guitars and drums. Another year, Sylvester the Cat would 
show up in the scene. Or various animals would roam the stage. Or the 
smurfs. Or whatever action figures happened to be in vogue at the time. 
Our kids recreated life, mostly in fun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But one year, as we were waiting to have our Christmas eve dinner, we 
got a phone call from our middle son. He had pulled out into oncoming 
traffic, driving my car, and been hit by a car he hadn’t seen coming. He
 and his girlfriend were fine, but shaken up, and we interrupted our 
planned events to go and sort things out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_4roBd0dmz8QHxMdyBAmyyJc65rSgdbLf4qDTLdapGMfqZJfqUlbcfl3C_VoGQ0HEau-9b8Gdi94fxtgliFwlDuuzD_EpngyBojAJbOnd-bs91XxBBOJwe4UyrIXrS5sRD1ymQDMFgY/s1600/creche.jpg&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;225&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279801083500321074&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_4roBd0dmz8QHxMdyBAmyyJc65rSgdbLf4qDTLdapGMfqZJfqUlbcfl3C_VoGQ0HEau-9b8Gdi94fxtgliFwlDuuzD_EpngyBojAJbOnd-bs91XxBBOJwe4UyrIXrS5sRD1ymQDMFgY/s320/creche.jpg&quot; style=&quot;display: block; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;&quot; width=&quot;275&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When
 we returned home, the crèche had mysteriously morphed into a new scene,
 complete with a wrecked toy car with shepherds and wise men all looking
 on with concern. Joseph was on the phone, Mary was sitting at the 
dinner table waiting for the family. And above it all, the angel 
hovered, having done her job, keeping everyone safe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today the crèche sits, undisturbed by the hands of children, awaiting 
the next generation’s take on the meaning of Christmas. And, after a 
half hour search in my completely disorganized photo storage system, I 
found the picture! If you look closely, you can even see the missing 
donkey ear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Addendum:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoeWvumCSHvXGawuXGGTmC5ChFo4V4GRsQhgJB-amRzKhKp9BlLGttc1Flp0xDcJMzcEZ7VjDcMomWXLGno43BjGhwmWzk5UZPSq1SaKa4RSxDTqfwxI0S0LSVz3pVyVR_IHJJwvrkIc/s1600-h/creche+by+mharrsch.jpg&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279912445968396562&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoeWvumCSHvXGawuXGGTmC5ChFo4V4GRsQhgJB-amRzKhKp9BlLGttc1Flp0xDcJMzcEZ7VjDcMomWXLGno43BjGhwmWzk5UZPSq1SaKa4RSxDTqfwxI0S0LSVz3pVyVR_IHJJwvrkIc/s400/creche+by+mharrsch.jpg&quot; style=&quot;float: right; height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 160px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last
 year I had my 2-1/2-year-old grandson, Caleb,visiting and he and I set 
up my Playmobile creche scene. It has a cardboard backing with a stable 
and door. We set up the camel, the wise men, Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, 
the angel. I was waiting for Caleb to begin acting out the story of 
Christmas. Caleb picked up a shepherd and resolutely walked him over to 
the stable door. &quot;TRICK OR TREAT!&quot; he yelled!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Guess we&#39;ve got a little way to go til he gets the story down!&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/3957204438291970496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/12/christmas-creche-revisited.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/3957204438291970496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/3957204438291970496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/12/christmas-creche-revisited.html' title='Christmas Creche Revisited'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_4roBd0dmz8QHxMdyBAmyyJc65rSgdbLf4qDTLdapGMfqZJfqUlbcfl3C_VoGQ0HEau-9b8Gdi94fxtgliFwlDuuzD_EpngyBojAJbOnd-bs91XxBBOJwe4UyrIXrS5sRD1ymQDMFgY/s72-c/creche.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-7153292549957612013</id><published>2012-06-28T09:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-06-28T09:23:27.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On Health Care</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
On this day when the Supreme Court has upheld the Affordable Care Act, I&#39;m posting something my physician husband wrote in 2010.&amp;nbsp; I think it is well said.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we lived in Charleston, South Carolina, we enjoyed taking a 
tourist-type tour of the old town &quot;South of Broad.&quot;    One of the 
interesting sights would be a small iron plaque firmly mounted to the 
side of an historic house called a &quot;fire mark,&quot; which indicated that the
 house had purchased fire insurance, and was entitled by contract to the
 fire company’s services.  Fire marks are valued antiques today, and are
 an interesting and quaint anecdote in American history.  If a fire 
occurred and the firemen arrived at the house, and there was no plaque, 
they would allow the fire to burn the house.  It was not until after 
1850 that American cities began to decide that fire protection was 
something that every house should have, and formed city fire departments
 supported by taxes.  Having partial coverage for a few was simply not 
practical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With passage of the Health Care Overhaul recently,
 our country has declared that having health care coverage only for some
 Americans is simply not just, nor practical.  Health insurance 
companies have wasted time and money deciding who and what conditions 
are covered, and denying claims.  Patients who aren’t covered can’t go 
to a doctor for preventive care of a minor illness, but tend to wait 
until the illness is much worse, then go to the emergency room where, 
according to law, they can’t be turned away.  The treatment is more 
expensive, and the hospital and other patients have to bear the cost of 
the delayed care.   With the country dedicated to universal coverage, 
everyone will have health care, which will reduce the cost and eliminate
 the “who’s covered, who’s not” question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other countries adopted the concept of city fire departments first, and America caught on late. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
    On March 11, 1733 the French government decided that the 
interventions of the fire brigades would be free of charge. This was 
decided because people always waited until the last moment to call the 
fire brigades to avoid paying the fee, and it was often too late to stop
 fires.  Wikipedia  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other western societies have taken this 
approach to health care successfully for years, and at last America is 
beginning to adopt the concept.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s good that we have 
finally recognized that health care is a necessity, and should be 
elevated to the same status as fire protection, water, electricity, and 
education, supported by public funding and available to all.  It’s a 
mark of a civilized society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kennard McNichols MD   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Photo by MarieMcC, shared via Flickr)&lt;span class=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; class=&quot;photo_img img&quot; src=&quot;https://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/24324_1410456697719_5564545_n.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;caption&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/7153292549957612013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/06/on-health-care.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/7153292549957612013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/7153292549957612013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/06/on-health-care.html' title='On Health Care'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-3199878554898443510</id><published>2012-03-21T12:32:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-03-22T11:07:35.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talking to Your Child About Sex</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
From the title of this blog post, you are going to think
that I am about to give advice about talking to children about sex.&amp;nbsp; Alas, that is not my intent.&amp;nbsp; I want to recount a situation I found myself
in with my 7-year-old grandson last night.&amp;nbsp;
Let’s call him “G.”&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;

&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJSD3mnjGrZy3zCggW6t6djabpLgXaavATtB2cmlLdZgtzFJuDg2-WDuYrxj_HK-xM6cfCxWoaPRtnQKgVcuXU_eiV9cBSxeN5jE5-0IhWgYjhuelbnGif3tQ7_UpZuCrigodciMMhyphenhyphene-/s1600/515+2tbovJL._AA160_.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJSD3mnjGrZy3zCggW6t6djabpLgXaavATtB2cmlLdZgtzFJuDg2-WDuYrxj_HK-xM6cfCxWoaPRtnQKgVcuXU_eiV9cBSxeN5jE5-0IhWgYjhuelbnGif3tQ7_UpZuCrigodciMMhyphenhyphene-/s1600/515+2tbovJL._AA160_.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I was asked to “babysit” my two grandchildren last night and
that meant I would be putting the two kids to bed and reading stories, a fun
task.&amp;nbsp; I finished reading to “L” and put
her to bed and asked G to pick out a book.&amp;nbsp;
He spent a few minutes in his bedroom and came out with a book titled “Where
Did I Come From?”&amp;nbsp; I had just a
fleeting moment of hope that perhaps this was a book about geography or at
worst, a simplified version of the birds and the bees.&amp;nbsp; My hopes were dashed by the first page which
mentioned that the topic we were going to discuss might cause some people to
blush.&amp;nbsp; By page two, with the cartoony completely
nude pictures of the male and female anatomy, with description and numerous
slang versions, just for educational purposes, I guess, I was in over my
head.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
What to do?&amp;nbsp; “Have you
ever read this book before, G?”&amp;nbsp; “No.”&amp;nbsp; “Where did you get it?”&amp;nbsp; (hoping maybe I could somehow get out of this
reading….) “From my church.”&amp;nbsp; Well, I
assumed, if he got it from his church, it must be sanctioned by his
parents.&amp;nbsp; After all, it was on his
bookshelf.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I continued reading, getting in deeper and deeper, page by
page.&amp;nbsp; This book not only talked about
the anatomy but described in great, albeit youth-oriented, detail the entire
sex act, complete with such phrases as “on top of,” “wriggling around” and “explosion.”&amp;nbsp; Fill in the blanks yourself. &amp;nbsp;And did I mention the illustrations?&amp;nbsp; At that graphic point in the reading, G said
softly “THAT part doesn’t happen!!!”&amp;nbsp; “Oh,
yes it does,&quot; I said, hoping against hope that I wouldn’t be called upon to
clarify any further.&amp;nbsp; G seemed to take my
answer in stride, not asking any further questions.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
After the complete description of the sex act, the rest of
the book was quite tame.&amp;nbsp; It showed the
growth of a baby inside the womb and the umbilical cord and completely glossed
over the graphic parts of birth, never showing any further body parts.&amp;nbsp; I guess most children have had a little more
exposure to the actual birth but rarely have gotten the true picture on exactly
HOW that little egg and sperm get together.&amp;nbsp;
That was always a mystery to me for many years.&amp;nbsp; I certainly didn’t learn it at seven!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
We finished the book, G had no questions, although I didn’t
really ask for any, and G went to bed.&amp;nbsp;
When his parents came home, I thanked them profusely for this amazing “opportunity”
to be the first to explain these issues to G.&amp;nbsp;
They did not recall the book, finally remembering they had picked it up
a few years earlier at a church used book sale.&amp;nbsp;
It had been sitting on the shelf for a couple of years.&amp;nbsp; Why tonight?&amp;nbsp;
Why ME?&amp;nbsp; I guess we won’t know the
answer to that question.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
In my own defense, in spite of my red cheeks and stilted
voice, I KNEW that I needed to read that book straight out, not leaving out a
word (G is a voracious reader and would have known), never faltering or acting
embarrassed.&amp;nbsp; If this was to be G’s
introduction to the world of sex, far be it for me to give him any reason to
see a therapist or be traumatized in his later years!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
As an addendum, here is the email I got from G’s mother
later that evening:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;That book has LITERALLY been on G&#39;s shelf
for at least a year (maybe two?) with no one bothering to look at it.&amp;nbsp; A
twist of fate made it your night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just read it cover to cover and it&#39;s a book that I&#39;m happy to own.&amp;nbsp; I
think it&#39;s a book that G is ready to hear and dives into the next step of
information in an age appropriate way.&amp;nbsp; My only regret is that it was
thrust upon YOU!&amp;nbsp; Please know I would have also been red faced and teary
eyed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What can I say... THANK YOU for taking it stride, taking the bull by the horns,
and getting through such difficult material with grace and love for our son.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
If you’d like the opportunity to read this book to your
child or grandchild, it is now a collector’s item, written in 1974, and
available in hardcover from Amazon for a hefty price.&amp;nbsp; Where Did I Come From?:&amp;nbsp; Facts of Life without Any Nonsense and with Illustrations.&amp;nbsp; THAT is an understatement!&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/3199878554898443510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/03/talking-to-your-child-about-sex.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/3199878554898443510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/3199878554898443510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/03/talking-to-your-child-about-sex.html' title='Talking to Your Child About Sex'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJSD3mnjGrZy3zCggW6t6djabpLgXaavATtB2cmlLdZgtzFJuDg2-WDuYrxj_HK-xM6cfCxWoaPRtnQKgVcuXU_eiV9cBSxeN5jE5-0IhWgYjhuelbnGif3tQ7_UpZuCrigodciMMhyphenhyphene-/s72-c/515+2tbovJL._AA160_.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-9180478040342456192</id><published>2012-03-17T13:30:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-03-17T13:30:54.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Improving Relationships Sometimes Means Examining Your World View!</title><content type='html'>When my husband and I were engaged to be married (42 years ago this month!), we were required by our church to have several sessions of premarital counseling. The pastor who counseled us was an older, single man. He asked us how we handled conflict. I answered, &quot;That&#39;s easy! We fight and fight and fight and then I cry and he gives in!&quot; I was dead serious. The pastor suggested that perhaps we weren&#39;t ready to get married and should put off our decision until we had worked out better ways to solve our conflicts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being all-wise at the age of 21, we were quite sure that this pastor, having never been married, couldn&#39;t possibly know what was best for us and had no right to tell us we weren&#39;t ready for marriage. Besides, our method was working quite nicely (for me at least), so we ignored his comments and proceeded to use this very method of conflict resolution for the next 6 or 8 years. I was the master of the long pout and could hold out for several days, if necessary, to get my way. My husband, himself a conflict avoider, wasn&#39;t happy with the outcome at times, but since his goal was to keep me happy at all costs, this method worked for him as well. We would kiss and make up and have great make-up sex!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A funny change happened about 8 or 10 years into our marriage however. At some point, my tears stopped moving my husband to give in, and we gradually realized that our methods weren&#39;t getting either of us any satisfaction. We began the long process of learning to fight fairly, learning to negotiate, learning to look at the possibility that we might both have a valid point in any given situation. Many methods, books, counselors, retreats, friends helped us along the way. I plan to bring some of those ideas to you in later posts, but today I want to talk about how my own world view changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We establish our world view in our family of origin (the family we grew up in) and usually don&#39;t realize that we are acting out of that world view. My world view was that the most important thing about an argument was being &quot;right.&quot; If I wasn&#39;t &quot;right&quot; then my whole belief system began to crumble around me. I needed to be &quot;right&quot; to prove that I was a loveable, &quot;okay&quot; human being. If I was &quot;wrong,&quot; then there must be something fatally flawed about me. Many of us suffer from this black and white thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most important changes you can make in your relationship is to begin to accept the fact that your partner&#39;s position on a given subject has equal validity to your own and that there is a possibility that you are both &quot;right.&quot; For example, you might assert that the &quot;way&quot; to get to the grocery store is by taking certain streets, making sure that all of your turns are left turns. Your partner, however, may choose a route that goes past some familiar landmark and assert that this is the correct route. Is there a &quot;right&quot; way to get to the grocery store? Obviously, this is a simple example, and many far-more-complex examples abound in any relationship. What is the &quot;right&quot; way to discipline your child? Or the &quot;right&quot; way to clean the kitchen? Or the &quot;right&quot; way to celebrate a holiday? Or the &quot;right&quot; way to spend or save your money?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I began to accept that both my husband and I had valid points in a disagreement, our relationship began to grow. I began to understand that we could both hold different ideas at the same time and both be &quot;right.&quot; I began to look at the world as a place where not only black and white exists, but many colors and shades in between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of some areas where you might be willing to consider your partner&#39;s point of view and begin to change the way you see the world!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/9180478040342456192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/03/improving-relationships-sometimes-means.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/9180478040342456192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/9180478040342456192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/03/improving-relationships-sometimes-means.html' title='Improving Relationships Sometimes Means Examining Your World View!'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-3447237466654968311</id><published>2012-02-28T09:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-28T09:17:37.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whose Rules Rule?</title><content type='html'>I repeatedly encounter conflict between grandparents and their adult children regarding whose rules should govern a grandparent&#39;s interactions with their grandchild. In one corner we find the elders, full of knowledge and advice, wanting to be validated and honored for their years of experience, confident that they know what&#39;s best for the child. In the other corner, we find the young or new parents, full of book knowledge, research findings, training classes, experience gleaned from close friends, their own personal values, and their unique experience with their child, who need to assert their own way of doing things. If you look around, you will find articles, advisers and advocates who will agree with whichever side you come down on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The areas ripe for disagreement are legion!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How much sugar or other unhealthy treats are okay?&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How much television, DVDs, or video game time should be allowed?&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How is discipline handled?&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What kind of books, movies, and activities are acceptable?&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How should bedtime be handled?&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Do you reward good behavior or promote self-validation?&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How much risk is tolerated?&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How are differences in religious beliefs addressed?&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;The list goes on and on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I&#39;m here as a grandparent to tell you that I strongly believe that parents should be the ones who are make the rules for how their children are raised. They are, after all, the ones who bear the final responsibility!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Grandparents need to think back on their own beginnings as a parent, and remember what it was like for them. Each generation follows the popular trends of the day. Before Dr. Benjamin Spock came along, &quot;in post-war American, parents were in awe of doctors and other childcare professionals; Spock assured them that parents were the true experts on their own children. They had been told that picking up infants when they cried would only spoil them; Spock countered that cuddling babies and bestowing affection on children would only make them happier and more secure. Instead of adhering to strict, one-size-fits-all dictates on everything from discipline to toilet training, Spock urged parents to be flexible and see their children as individuals.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The trends of today which parents are following may be completely different than what the older generation learned. But there are many variations on what is the &quot;right&quot; way to parent. To repeat Dr. Spock, &quot;parents are the true experts on their own children.&quot; When grandparents step in and override the rules of the parents, what message are we giving? We are saying that we know best and usurping the parents&#39; authority, as well as undermining their own confidence in their parenting knowledge!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unfortunately, the result of this conflict can be estrangement between the parties. This conflict often leads to reduced access to the grandchildren, more tension and arguing between the adults, and the children are the ones who suffer. Grandparents need to be in constant discussion with the parents, finding out how issues are handled and what the current house rules are. But with friendship and openness between all parties, everyone needs to be open to negotiating on things that aren’t working.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here are some tips for navigating specific areas of this unique parent-grandparent relationship.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Advice&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I make it a policy not to give advice unless asked or it is a life or death situation. I believe this allows the parents to come to me for advice, at times, and then it is carefully given, with disclaimers! Sometimes the parents aren&#39;t that sure of their own stand on an issue, but dig their heels in if they feel the grandparents are somehow taking charge. Parents need the freedom to test their theories, make their own mistakes, learn what works and what doesn&#39;t work. They need to be allowed to become the experts and feel confident in their own roles as parents. Hopefully, the relationship that develops will allow for grandparents to impart some of that knowledge they gained through their own experiences.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Consistency, but not a foolish one&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Often the rules grandparents choose to break cause unnecessary hardship on the parents. Too much sugar, too late a bedtime, or too many hours sitting in front of a television often cause unruly behavior when the child returns home. If grandparents allow a child to talk back, that behavior then carries over into other relationships. Or breaking the rules can pit the child against his/her parents, saying “But Grandma (or grandpa) lets me...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the other hand, I also have a plaque in my kitchen that says &quot;What happens at Grandma’s house stays at Grandma’s house!&#39; I bought this plaque partly in jest, even though I do follow the parental rules. But there is a special relationship that a grandparent and child have, and that relationship is different than the one between parent and child. It is important to allow that &quot;specialness&quot; to have its own expressions. Grandparents should be allowed special dispensation at times, to bend the family rules, but here again, I believe this should be after open discussion with the parents, and consistent with the parents&#39; wishes. I still follow the rule of healthy food before cookies, but I might be just a little less strict on how that rule is carried out. Or I might stretch the size of the cookie given! If, however, I completely break the rule, it won&#39;t be long before cookies-before-healthy food becomes the firm expectation at my house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is also okay to acknowledge that some of the rules are different. Your child needs to learn this about the world in general; for example, the rules at a friend&#39;s house need to be observed, even if those rules are different. My own grandchildren know that it is not okay to jump on my furniture. I have a much lower tolerance of chaos than some of their parents. My grandchildren have been told by their parents that different houses have different rules and that the rules of the house prevail. Thus said, I do not use this as an excuse to flaunt the family rules that have been set up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Discipline and honesty&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When discipline problems occur, I talk to the parents about what methods they are currently using to handle the problem, and try to use those methods as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is never acceptable, in my book, to lie to the parents or ask the child to cover up something that the grandparents have done or rules that have been broken. This sets up a very unhealthy coalition between the child and the grandparent, bypassing the parents in the process, and teaching the child that lying is acceptable behavior. Co-opting a child to keep secrets is never a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Assuming good intentions&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All said, it is very important for both sides in this issue to assume good intentions. There are often underlying issues from past relationships that are coloring those in the present - a topic we will explore at greater depth in future posts. But I know how much my adult children love their children, and I know that they know I share that love. We all want what is best for the child and we all want to maintain our own good relationships! We all need to step back, take a deep breath, and begin to work on own relationships so that the children can grow up in a healthy environment, free of strife between parents and grandparents!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do any of these conflicts surface with your own or your spouse&#39;s parents? What strategies for handling them have worked for you? How could you handle them better?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(This is a post I have published elsewhere, on sites that are no longer publishing.)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/3447237466654968311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/02/whose-rules-rule_28.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/3447237466654968311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/3447237466654968311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/02/whose-rules-rule_28.html' title='Whose Rules Rule?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-6463696775291179979</id><published>2012-02-18T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-18T16:34:24.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff - revisited</title><content type='html'>It must be early Spring in the air, or it&#39;s just the rain that is keeping us inside. Several of my friends have posted on Facebook about purging.&amp;nbsp; That reminded me of some posts that I really liked from the past about &quot;stuff&quot; and since I need to get my writing kick started, I will bring them on again.&amp;nbsp; I finally managed to convince Ken to get rid of our 35-year-old stereo equipment.&amp;nbsp; I convinced him that we haven&#39;t used it in the last 3 or 4 years.&amp;nbsp; Now if I can just keep him from hiding them in the space under our house....&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;
“A home is like a reservoir equipped with a check valve. 
 The valve permits influx but prevents outflow.  Acquisition goes on day
 and night, smoothly, subtly, imperceptibly.  I have no sharp taste for 
acquiring things, but it’s not necessary to desire them.  Goods and 
chattel seek a man out.  They find him even though his guard is up.”  E.
 B. White, &quot;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0060932236/gracandgrav-20&quot;&gt;Essays&lt;/a&gt;.&quot;   &lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 100%;&quot;&gt;E.
 B. White is much better known for Charlotte&#39;s Web and Stuart Little.  
But his essays are a delight and he starts our discussion of stuff so 
perfectly.   I came across this quote in the middle of my last move and 
identified completely.  The essay is hilarious, beginning like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;
&quot;For
 some weeks now I have been engaged in dispersing the contents of this 
apartment, trying to persuade hundreds of inanimate objects to scatter 
and leave me alone.  It is not a simple matter.  I am impressed by the reluctance of one’s worldly goods to go out again into the world.&quot;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
I
 brag about the fact that there is a box waiting to be filled and 
transported to Goodwill in my house at all times.  I do seriously make a
 trip to Goodwill almost weekly, usually with a small box of belongings,
 but still we have too much stuff.  I believe this is one of the big 
challenges of aging:  How do we part with our stuff?  And when do we 
part with our stuff?  And who will have to do the work of parting with 
our stuff if we don&#39;t keep working at it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I
 made a pact with myself several years ago to seriously begin to get rid
 of stuff.  I had just stopped in at an estate sale, hoping to nab some 
good stuff, and was aghast to find an elderly woman&#39;s entire life laid 
out for the public to peruse.  Our stuff loses it&#39;s value and has the 
possibility of this type of an end.  When I came across a table 
displaying this woman&#39;s bras, I made a pact to begin getting rid of the 
things my children won&#39;t be needing or wanting.  I can&#39;t promise that 
I&#39;ve done a great job of fulfilling that pact, but I am working on it.  
Since my husband and I keep moving to smaller places, we have had to let
 things go, but we have not yet stopped accumulating, so the task 
remains.&lt;/div&gt;
Stay tuned for many parts to this thread on &quot;stuff.&quot;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/6463696775291179979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/02/stuff-revisited.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/6463696775291179979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/6463696775291179979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2012/02/stuff-revisited.html' title='Stuff - revisited'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-5183170654011180672</id><published>2011-12-24T00:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-24T00:30:03.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One of my favorite stories gets pulled out every year when I once 
again set up our Christmas crèche. Inside the box is stored this story:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When
 Ken and I  were first married, we bought a complete crèche scene and 
painstakingly  painted and antiqued every piece. We still have all the 
pieces, minus  one chip out of the donkey’s ear, knocked off the shelf 
by the family  cat. We never did find that missing ear and finally 
decided that the  crèche was just perfect without it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As
 our children  grew, however, the crèche took on “other” meanings during
 the Christmas  season. Our kids had a lot of fun changing the scene. 
One year the  shepherds and wise men formed a rock band, complete with 
little guitars  and drums. Another year, Sylvester the Cat would show up
 in the scene.  Or various animals would roam the stage. Or the smurfs. 
Or whatever  action figures happened to be in vogue at the time. Our 
kids recreated  life, mostly in fun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But one year, as 
we were waiting  to have our Christmas eve dinner, we got a phone call 
from our middle  son. He had pulled out into oncoming traffic, driving 
my car, and been  hit by a car he hadn’t seen coming. He and his 
girlfriend were fine, but  shaken up, and we interrupted our planned 
events to go and sort things  out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_4roBd0dmz8QHxMdyBAmyyJc65rSgdbLf4qDTLdapGMfqZJfqUlbcfl3C_VoGQ0HEau-9b8Gdi94fxtgliFwlDuuzD_EpngyBojAJbOnd-bs91XxBBOJwe4UyrIXrS5sRD1ymQDMFgY/s1600/creche.jpg&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;225&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279801083500321074&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_4roBd0dmz8QHxMdyBAmyyJc65rSgdbLf4qDTLdapGMfqZJfqUlbcfl3C_VoGQ0HEau-9b8Gdi94fxtgliFwlDuuzD_EpngyBojAJbOnd-bs91XxBBOJwe4UyrIXrS5sRD1ymQDMFgY/s320/creche.jpg&quot; style=&quot;display: block; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;&quot; width=&quot;275&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When
  we returned home, the crèche had mysteriously morphed into a new 
scene,  complete with a wrecked toy car with shepherds and wise men all 
looking  on with concern. Joseph was on the phone, Mary was sitting at 
the  dinner table waiting for the family. And above it all, the angel  
hovered, having done her job, keeping everyone safe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today
  the crèche sits, undisturbed by the hands of children, awaiting the  
next generation’s take on the meaning of Christmas. And, after a half  
hour search in my completely disorganized photo storage system, I found 
 the picture! If you look closely, you can even see the missing donkey  
ear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Addendum:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoeWvumCSHvXGawuXGGTmC5ChFo4V4GRsQhgJB-amRzKhKp9BlLGttc1Flp0xDcJMzcEZ7VjDcMomWXLGno43BjGhwmWzk5UZPSq1SaKa4RSxDTqfwxI0S0LSVz3pVyVR_IHJJwvrkIc/s1600-h/creche+by+mharrsch.jpg&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279912445968396562&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoeWvumCSHvXGawuXGGTmC5ChFo4V4GRsQhgJB-amRzKhKp9BlLGttc1Flp0xDcJMzcEZ7VjDcMomWXLGno43BjGhwmWzk5UZPSq1SaKa4RSxDTqfwxI0S0LSVz3pVyVR_IHJJwvrkIc/s400/creche+by+mharrsch.jpg&quot; style=&quot;float: right; height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 160px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My
 grandson, Caleb, when he was 2-1/2, added to our story.&amp;nbsp; He and I set  
up my Playmobile creche scene. It has a cardboard backing with a stable 
 and door. We set up the camel, the wise men, Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, 
 the angel. I was waiting for Caleb to begin acting out the story of  
Christmas. Caleb picked up a shepherd and resolutely walked him over to 
 the stable door. &quot;TRICK OR TREAT!&quot; he yelled!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Guess we&#39;ve got a little way to go til he gets the story down!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Photo by mharrsch, shared via Flickr)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PS: Last&amp;nbsp; year, thanks to my crazy husband, the creche was visited by a 
Queen, a Rook and a Pawn, in celebration of then 6-year-old grandson Gavin&#39;s 
new interest in the game of chess! &amp;nbsp; Send me your creche stories!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/5183170654011180672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-of-my-favorite-stories-gets-pulled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/5183170654011180672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/5183170654011180672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-of-my-favorite-stories-gets-pulled.html' title=''/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_4roBd0dmz8QHxMdyBAmyyJc65rSgdbLf4qDTLdapGMfqZJfqUlbcfl3C_VoGQ0HEau-9b8Gdi94fxtgliFwlDuuzD_EpngyBojAJbOnd-bs91XxBBOJwe4UyrIXrS5sRD1ymQDMFgY/s72-c/creche.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-2534660986355852785</id><published>2011-12-11T11:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-11T11:18:38.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Approach</title><content type='html'>On Thanksgiving Day my cousin, Susan, went into the bathroom and never came out.&amp;nbsp; She was in perfect health, age 57, a vibrant woman with a meaningful career and many family relationships that needed some tending.&amp;nbsp; She died of a massive heart attack and was discovered by her family members.&amp;nbsp; In October, I lost a dear friend to a sudden brain aneurysm.&amp;nbsp; It has been a hard couple of months.&amp;nbsp; Susan&#39;s husband wrote an amazing tribute to her for her memorial service, and I would like to quote it in its entirety here.&amp;nbsp; To see the post in its original setting, &lt;a href=&quot;http://mikehamel.wordpress.com/2011/12/05/celebrating-susie/&quot;&gt;click here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t stop thinking about this poignant reminder that life is short and precious.&amp;nbsp; May we all keep short accounts and be constantly aware that all of life is terminal.&amp;nbsp; Here is Mike&#39;s eulogy:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m currently writing a book called, &lt;em&gt;We Will Be Landing Shortly,&lt;/em&gt; with the subtitle, &lt;em&gt;Reflections on Being Terminal&lt;/em&gt;. The title is a phrase I’ve heard on every flight I’ve ever taken for almost forty years—and it’s always bothered me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Whenever
 the flight attendant chants this mantra, I want to stand up and shout, 
“I don’t want to land SHORTLY! I want to make it all the way to the 
runway!” But this would only get me arrested by the sky marshal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;

&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Back
 in the last century, I was a frequent flier. I used my trips as 
occasions to do a quick life-check. I would ask myself as the plane 
readied for takeoff if I was ready to go in the ultimate sense of the 
phrase. If things came to mind that needed attention, I wrote them down 
and purposed to address them as soon as possible. It proved a healthy 
discipline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;

&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Susie’s
 death on Thanksgiving Day is a solemn reminder that we all are on 
“final approach.” Some of us will have time to get our seat backs and 
tray tables in the upright and locked position. Others will crash with 
little warning and no time to prepare. The one invariable is that every 
one of us will be landing shortly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;

&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Susan
 was ready because of how she lived her life every day, in public and in
 private. I just wasn’t ready to say goodbye so soon. Her legacy is her 
family and the thousands of people she blessed over the years.She always
 had open arms, a listening ear, a non-judgmental heart, an accepting 
nature, an inviting smile, a steadfast faith, and treats for her 
grandkids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;

&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Susan
 wasn’t perfect. She never got the hang of gossip; didn’t know how to 
carry a grudge; couldn’t keep her checkbook closed when it came to 
others, would accept just about anybody as a friend, and routinely 
welcomed strangers into our home for months at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;

&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I
 know where Susan is and I’m happy for her and at peace. I expect to 
join her some day. Maybe then she can explain to me what in the world 
God was thinking when he left me without adult supervision … and why he 
let her cut in line in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;

&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Susie, you can never be replaced, and you will never be forgotten. I love you deeply; always have, always will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/2534660986355852785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/12/final-approach.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/2534660986355852785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/2534660986355852785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/12/final-approach.html' title='Final Approach'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-7691350240450510974</id><published>2011-11-27T12:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T14:22:28.129-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to write....</title><content type='html'>I have neglected my writing self for several months but now it is time to get going again.&amp;nbsp; On the day after Thanksgiving, my husband, brother and I decided to watch all 9 hours of The Lord of the Rings.&amp;nbsp; We weren&#39;t in the mood to go downtown for the parade (in spite of a nice break in the nasty weather) and so revived an old Bergstrom/McNichols tradition.&amp;nbsp; In the past, when the kids were young, we first watched all of the Planet of the Apes movies in one sitting.&amp;nbsp; Then I believe we did Star Wars and maybe even James Bond.&amp;nbsp; There are a lot more options now that might be worthy of a full day of viewing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But here is a great speech from near the end of The Lord of the Rings. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt; &lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&quot;&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;315&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/JEMdXhfO-Wk&quot; width=&quot;420&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&quot;There’s some good in this world… and it’s worth fighting for.&quot;&lt;br /&gt; — Sam, in The Lord of the Rings&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To receive an interesting quote every day between now and Advent, visit &lt;a href=&quot;http://bustedhalo.com/features/advent-calendar-2011&quot;&gt;Busted Halo&#39;s website&lt;/a&gt; for a Surprise Advent Calendar. &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/7691350240450510974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/11/time-to-write.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/7691350240450510974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/7691350240450510974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/11/time-to-write.html' title='Time to write....'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/JEMdXhfO-Wk/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-4936863594818497305</id><published>2011-09-18T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T14:45:40.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Then the rain came....</title><content type='html'>After a very late summer and more than usual days in the 80&#39;s, we in the  Northwest let out a huge sigh of relief when the temperature dips and the threat of rain returns once&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5yhASYNrwO1LCYFqBUp9BKoiR-OW9niewZ9yvzQ2MVSgJuIJy5H-LYzUdaTxq_gurjTZjF8ByJYIyj_IhAb4UUUoADA-4_VdsQD710S_ToV71jYd0Ar_Wsw6MxmTe7kQEn6M6uxU5ck/s1600-h/rain+by+C4Chaos.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237004973174457122&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5yhASYNrwO1LCYFqBUp9BKoiR-OW9niewZ9yvzQ2MVSgJuIJy5H-LYzUdaTxq_gurjTZjF8ByJYIyj_IhAb4UUUoADA-4_VdsQD710S_ToV71jYd0Ar_Wsw6MxmTe7kQEn6M6uxU5ck/s320/rain+by+C4Chaos.jpg&quot; style=&quot;cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 179px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 268px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  again.  You know you truly belong in the PNW if you melt when the  temperature is over 75 degrees and long for a &quot;good rain&quot; to clear the  air.  We do enjoy those great sunny days and milk them for all they&#39;re  worth, but when the rain returns, we settle back into the rhythm of our  lives, wondering about people who actually need to water their lawns and  worry about water reserves.  The pressure of &quot;enjoying the sun while  it&#39;s out&quot; fades into the background and we are content.&lt;br /&gt;
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The rain  allows us to get back to our computers, our books, our coffee shops, and  give up the search for the perfect place to spend a hot and sunny  afternoon, afraid of wasting one of our few precious sunny days.  Remind  me to read this post in late December or January!&lt;br /&gt;
(Photo by C4Chaos, Flickr)&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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I repost this quotation about this time every year....&amp;nbsp; Let us rejoice in the rain!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;No  rain falls that I do not at once hear in the sound of the falling  water  an invitation to come to the wedding.  It is rare that I do not  answer.   A walk in an evening rain in any setting is to walk in the  midst of  God&#39;s loving attention to his earth, and, like a baptism, is  no simple  washing, but a communication of life.  When you hurry in out  of the  rain, I hurry out into it, for it is a sign that all is well,  that God  loves, that good is to follow.  If suffering a doubt, I find  myself  looking to rain as a good omen.  And in rain, I always hear  singing,  wordless chant rising and falling.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
When rain turns to  ice and snow I declare a holiday.  I could as easily  resist as stay at a  desk with a parade going by in the street below.  I  cannot hide the  delight that then possesses my heart.  Only God could  have surprised  rain with such a change of dress as ice and snow....&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Most  people love rain, water.  Snow charms all young hearts.  Only when  you  get older and bones begin to feel dampness, when snow becomes a  traffic  problem and a burden in the driveway, when wet means dirt --  then poetry  takes flight and God&#39;s love play is not noted.&lt;br /&gt;
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But I  am still a child and have no desire to take on the ways of death.   I  shall continue to heed water&#39;s invitation, the call of the rain.   We are  in love and lovers are a little mad.&lt;/i&gt;   &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;--  Matthew Kelty, Flute Solo, Reflections of a Trappist Hermit, pp.  117-19.&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/4936863594818497305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/09/then-rain-came.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/4936863594818497305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/4936863594818497305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/09/then-rain-came.html' title='Then the rain came....'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5yhASYNrwO1LCYFqBUp9BKoiR-OW9niewZ9yvzQ2MVSgJuIJy5H-LYzUdaTxq_gurjTZjF8ByJYIyj_IhAb4UUUoADA-4_VdsQD710S_ToV71jYd0Ar_Wsw6MxmTe7kQEn6M6uxU5ck/s72-c/rain+by+C4Chaos.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-2107835626993274277</id><published>2011-09-15T14:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T14:06:14.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning new tricks</title><content type='html'>Who says you can&#39;t teach an old dog new tricks?&amp;nbsp; This video of Bruce and Esther Huffman learning to use their webcam went viral after their granddaughter uploaded it to YouTube.&amp;nbsp; Over 2 million hits so far.&amp;nbsp; You never know what is going to &quot;go viral&quot; in this technological society.&amp;nbsp; Better be careful not to do or say anything you wouldn&#39;t want the world to see.&amp;nbsp; These two are really sweet!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&quot;&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;315&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/FcN08Tg3PWw&quot; width=&quot;420&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/2107835626993274277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/09/learning-new-tricks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/2107835626993274277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/2107835626993274277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/09/learning-new-tricks.html' title='Learning new tricks'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/FcN08Tg3PWw/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-1220138028531075376</id><published>2011-08-20T16:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T16:48:08.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What We Did On Our Summer Vacation....</title><content type='html'>Several of my favorite past posts have been about my Texas grandsons, Caleb and Samuel. &amp;nbsp; We had gotten used to having them nearby and &lt;a href=&quot;http://graceandgravity.blogspot.com/2009/08/chain-grows-shorter.html&quot;&gt;somehow lived through&lt;/a&gt; their move to Texas.&amp;nbsp; Then we all made it through a &lt;a href=&quot;http://graceandgravity.blogspot.com/2010/01/juxtaposition-of-joy-and-chaos.html&quot;&gt;very stressful visit&lt;/a&gt; at Christmas time and have had many trips to and from Texas to keep the relationships alive (it helps that they moved only 90 miles from our other Texas peep, Zella!)&amp;nbsp; This year&#39;s visit was actually so much easier than that Christmas visit -- Samuel is now 2-1/2, very verbal, and Caleb turned 5 while visiting us.&amp;nbsp; We were especially impressed by remembering that Samuel is now the age Caleb was when they moved, so we were reexperiencing the joys of &lt;a href=&quot;http://graceandgravity.blogspot.com/2009/08/through-eyes-of-child.html&quot;&gt;life through the eyes&lt;/a&gt; of an excitable, enthusiastic toddler.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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We had agreed/offered to take care of these two boys for 11 days so that their mother could spend time in Italy with her husband, who was there for 4 weeks of theatre training.&amp;nbsp; Bethany stayed with us for a week and a half in advance of her trip and then had almost a week with us upon her return.&amp;nbsp; She taught us her tricks on handling the boys, which really helped!&amp;nbsp; I convinced my husband to take some time off to help with the childcare and he and I were both surprised at how much we both enjoyed the experience.&amp;nbsp; Yes, it was physically difficult and at times totally chaotic, but we also experienced the unconditional love and affection that is usually reserved for their parents.&amp;nbsp; We planned outings every day to keep ourselves sane, came home for lunch and a rest for all, then usually took boys to the park next door to chase and run (the playground is undergoing renovation and was CLOSED all summer).&amp;nbsp; DVD&#39;s and computer time and special treats abounded, lots of books were read and bedtimes occurred without much grief.&amp;nbsp; Space Needle, Monorail, Imagine Museum, Woodland Park Zoo at least 3 times, Pacific Science Center, spray parks, libraries, playgrounds, McDonald&#39;s (a big hit), the Blue Park a couple of times (Sheridan Beach) -- we hit them all!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHoZ62u_dzXpU1opCAN-l0A09GimQ2WBh6yyGvPlxugybRfBzvyVGu_PuuKS8Hq3Nqfv1eNKDI_InahGi6nJ1WQ8Se5HeEdWZJaVkd-mvbgqNfNDvcvkUH_1Vx2Ho71ci8pbt0niln2ixh/s1600/photo%25282%2529.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHoZ62u_dzXpU1opCAN-l0A09GimQ2WBh6yyGvPlxugybRfBzvyVGu_PuuKS8Hq3Nqfv1eNKDI_InahGi6nJ1WQ8Se5HeEdWZJaVkd-mvbgqNfNDvcvkUH_1Vx2Ho71ci8pbt0niln2ixh/s320/photo%25282%2529.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The first couple of days Sam would get up and ask for Mommy to do things, but soon found that he didn&#39;t really have a choice but to transfer his allegiance to us!&amp;nbsp; I had put together 11 treat bags -- one for each day Mommy was gone -- and a red bag to show the day she would return. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sam would get up from his sleep or his nap and say &quot;Red bag, Mommy home!&quot; then &quot;Red bag, NOW!&quot; after which I would go through the whole explanation again.&amp;nbsp; It seemed to work to help him somehow understand this long abandonment!&amp;nbsp; He was appeased by the treats in the bag and was soon playing happily again.&amp;nbsp; Sam&#39;s enthusiasm for all things was a joy -- he does his &quot;happy dance&quot; whenever he gets real excited, revs his body up before taking a run, wants to do everything &quot;Meself,&quot; and insists on &quot;hugs&quot; whenever anyone leaves the room or the house!&lt;br /&gt;
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Upon Mommy&#39;s return, Sam wanted both of us to put him to bed for his nap for a time or two, and we shared the responsibilities to keep him happy.&amp;nbsp; Caleb, in all his 5-year-old wisdom, kept us laughing.&amp;nbsp; He said that one of the books I was reading to him was too scary and we should wait to read it until he is ten.&amp;nbsp; &quot;But,&quot; he says, &quot;your voice might be too shaky by then!&quot;&amp;nbsp; Alas, my voice MAY just be shaky by then, so I&#39;m really glad we were able to have all this fun while we still are &quot;young enough&quot; to participate!&amp;nbsp; Or, upon finding out that there was a scary exhibit at PSC, he said &quot;SAM would really be too scared to see this!&quot;&amp;nbsp; His other comment was that he would really like to live here again.&amp;nbsp; And &quot;if we could live with YOU that would be even more awesome!&quot;&amp;nbsp; We tried to explain to him that we really don&#39;t have this much fun all the time, but we are so glad that a good time was had by all!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-v1VmfRaQttbiCECXcbgKDye5AFxzwbroHvrlXgOhz2e0wd3xvZuzceQ75U0Q_CEYRJYp2onaoQFhCkuDAxw3DYjwKZJw5ABnCobxEaABhAZUlZQSTv6L6tIOpoMu4xPI52fTGusLhM9/s1600/4+kids.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-v1VmfRaQttbiCECXcbgKDye5AFxzwbroHvrlXgOhz2e0wd3xvZuzceQ75U0Q_CEYRJYp2onaoQFhCkuDAxw3DYjwKZJw5ABnCobxEaABhAZUlZQSTv6L6tIOpoMu4xPI52fTGusLhM9/s320/4+kids.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We have now cleaned up the entire house, made a trip to Goodwill with toys that weren&#39;t popular or have been outgrown, sold the crib we had borrowed, put back the coffee table and the breakables, purged the frig and cupboard of things we&#39;ll never eat, and life is &quot;back to normal,&quot; a state both wonderful and sadly too quiet!&amp;nbsp; It IS fun to go out to eat as two adults, take our walks, ride in our convertible, but we cherish the time we had with these two boys.&amp;nbsp; And their local cousins have gotten reacquainted and formed new memories!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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As grandparents we are truly blessed!&amp;nbsp; </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/1220138028531075376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-we-did-on-our-summer-vacation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/1220138028531075376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/1220138028531075376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-we-did-on-our-summer-vacation.html' title='What We Did On Our Summer Vacation....'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHoZ62u_dzXpU1opCAN-l0A09GimQ2WBh6yyGvPlxugybRfBzvyVGu_PuuKS8Hq3Nqfv1eNKDI_InahGi6nJ1WQ8Se5HeEdWZJaVkd-mvbgqNfNDvcvkUH_1Vx2Ho71ci8pbt0niln2ixh/s72-c/photo%25282%2529.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-2966634387703548255</id><published>2011-07-19T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T12:35:31.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weather</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;http://twitpic.com/5c6t4u&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot; title=&quot;Sweaters for trees in Seattle how lovely :)!! on Twitpic&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Sweaters for trees in Seattle how lovely :)!! on Twitpic&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;http://twitpic.com/show/thumb/5c6t4u.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;How boring am I to write about the weather?&amp;nbsp; But here in the PNW, we are complaining about the summer that hasn&#39;t yet arrived.&amp;nbsp; In fact, we are putting sweaters on our trees!&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.kplu.org/post/trees-get-yarn-bombed-seattles-occidental-park&quot;&gt;Check out the pictures and story&lt;/a&gt; of our local &quot;yarn bombing&quot; or &quot;knit bombing as it&#39;s called.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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We really shouldn&#39;t be complaining, however, considering that many parts of the country are having a massive, dangerous heat wave.&amp;nbsp; We are hovering around the low 70&#39;s, while many places in the U.S. are in the&lt;a href=&quot;http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2015654195_weather19m.html&quot;&gt; high 90&#39;s or 100&#39;s!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkl4ru8IoOCrB84tyJnR6YpOBDPf_uqR1sTjZR4hnZFizfihAavM0JAsJ5cufBh6tmfrne2OhCzRPJsN4_RH1iJJey-DyScYzTItGlo4sxxAoVaA0y5E2OA2UkFJ7r2baHRTWlZ2lHZjy/s1600/ATT2227999.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;212&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkl4ru8IoOCrB84tyJnR6YpOBDPf_uqR1sTjZR4hnZFizfihAavM0JAsJ5cufBh6tmfrne2OhCzRPJsN4_RH1iJJey-DyScYzTItGlo4sxxAoVaA0y5E2OA2UkFJ7r2baHRTWlZ2lHZjy/s320/ATT2227999.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture, however, sent from my father who is roasting in the Arizona summer heat, says it all!&lt;br /&gt;
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(Tree sweaters picture from &lt;a href=&quot;http://twitpic.com/5c6t4u&quot;&gt;Twitpik&lt;/a&gt;, melting ice cream truck by Australian sculptor Orest Keywan who won the $30,000 Sculpture by the Sea prize for his comment on global warming on the coastal walk from Bondi to Tamarama, Australia.)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/2966634387703548255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/07/weather.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/2966634387703548255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/2966634387703548255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/07/weather.html' title='The Weather'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkl4ru8IoOCrB84tyJnR6YpOBDPf_uqR1sTjZR4hnZFizfihAavM0JAsJ5cufBh6tmfrne2OhCzRPJsN4_RH1iJJey-DyScYzTItGlo4sxxAoVaA0y5E2OA2UkFJ7r2baHRTWlZ2lHZjy/s72-c/ATT2227999.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-5975402588782451436</id><published>2011-06-22T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T15:36:55.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendships</title><content type='html'>It seems I am just too busy to keep up with my writing self.&amp;nbsp; I have been on a road trip with my husband, an overnight with long-time friends and have an upcoming retreat with relatively new women friends.&amp;nbsp; These are all relationships that add spice to my &quot;senior&quot; life.&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href=&quot;http://yourlife.usatoday.com/sex-relationships/story/2011/06/Friendship-really-can-get-better-with-age/48661324/1?csp=34news&quot;&gt;Here&#39;s an article&lt;/a&gt; from USA Today about the friendships of women.&amp;nbsp; It is writing about women in their 50&#39;s finding closeness with other women friends.&amp;nbsp; This friendship need even deepens with women in their 60&#39;s, 70&#39;s and 80&#39;s as many women tend to outlive their spouses.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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I am thankful beyond words for all of my women friends, past, present and future!&amp;nbsp;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/5975402588782451436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/06/friendships.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/5975402588782451436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/5975402588782451436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/06/friendships.html' title='Friendships'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-6831570130140191962</id><published>2011-06-08T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T16:47:21.011-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Facebook"/><title type='text'>Facebook Privacy Issues</title><content type='html'>My friends know that I am a Facebook devotee and have had to defend that position with several people or groups of friends who think that social networking is surely of the devil (you know who you are!)&amp;nbsp; I have written about &quot;keeping up&quot; in &lt;a href=&quot;http://graceandgravity.blogspot.com/2009/03/tech-savvy-grandma.html&quot;&gt;prior posts&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp; I have offered my services for Facebook lessons, trying to convince others in the aging population that we must keep up to date.&amp;nbsp; Many people finally become convinced when they realize they are missing out on the pictures and posts of their extended family, especially grandchildren (although some wish they didn&#39;t know quite so much about their grandchildren&#39;s doings!)&amp;nbsp; For many, Facebook has taken the place of email updates.&amp;nbsp; A birthday full of messages from all your FB friends is a great new experience!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But recently I have become aware that I need to also give some privacy pointers to these same FB converts.&amp;nbsp; It is unfortunate that one of the goals of social media is to get as much of our information as possible, but we do go into these internet places with that knowledge.&amp;nbsp; It is up to us to be vigilant, checking regularly to be sure that our privacy settings have not been changed.&amp;nbsp; Here&#39;s an example.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Recently, a friend was tagged in a &quot;photo&quot; by another friend.&amp;nbsp; What was sent was actually not a photo but a poster, detailing some controversial happenings in first person&#39;s life and work.&amp;nbsp; Sending that poster to the individual in question was a personal decision, made by tagging that person as though the poster was a photo.&amp;nbsp; This is often done by people, tagging friends at a party or family event.&amp;nbsp; It can be a lot of fun.&amp;nbsp; But what people don&#39;t realize is that if you tag someone, that notification goes out to their entire friend list, not just the person tagged, unless you have edited your settings to keep that from happening.&amp;nbsp; In other words, if someone tags me at the beach in my bathing suit, I want to be the ONLY ONE to see it and delete it before it goes viral!&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.wtvr.com/news/wtvr-facebook-settings-20110605,0,2920499,full.story&quot;&gt;Here is a very good article&lt;/a&gt; on things that you should check out regarding your settings.&amp;nbsp; This does not, however, include instructions for avoiding the issue I mentioned above.&amp;nbsp; To change the settings for pictures tagged by others, go to Account, Privacy Settings, Customize settings (here you should set all to &quot;Friends Only.&quot;)&amp;nbsp;There is also a very small line to edit privacy settings for existing  photo albums and videos.&amp;nbsp; You need to individually set these to Friends  Only. &amp;nbsp;  Under &quot;Things others share,&quot; &quot;Photos and Videos you&#39;re tagged in,&quot; you should Edit Settings, Customize, &quot;Only Me&quot; on drop-down menu, Save.&amp;nbsp; Also disable &quot;Suggest photos of me to others&quot; and click &quot;Okay.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Facebook is notorious for making changes to the privacy settings when they do an upgrade or make universal changes.&amp;nbsp; They have gotten a lot of grief for this and continue to claim that they are changing this behavior.&amp;nbsp; However, it is up to you to check your settings regularly to be sure they have not been changed (perhaps by putting a note on your calendar to check settings once a month.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimVvpN7n6EESUwpPgNHW2n1AFmPdjrxSzxvcKDCbutYbk1DoaDBSF4BfIIjBoE-yJVDPr6h4W8nVgG9HB_CXaBLWUwuON4VAHyjNEgXtDOQ_fOwyLeomLHPP2n_oZzdBzhRH9p9fzkpThY/s1600/facebook+by+smemon87.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;66&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimVvpN7n6EESUwpPgNHW2n1AFmPdjrxSzxvcKDCbutYbk1DoaDBSF4BfIIjBoE-yJVDPr6h4W8nVgG9HB_CXaBLWUwuON4VAHyjNEgXtDOQ_fOwyLeomLHPP2n_oZzdBzhRH9p9fzkpThY/s200/facebook+by+smemon87.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;I still contend that Facebook is a fun place to see what&#39;s happening with your friends and family.&amp;nbsp; But do recognize that you must be vigilant about the privacy issues. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Photo by smemon87, shared via Flickr)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/6831570130140191962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/06/facebook-privacy-issues.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/6831570130140191962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/6831570130140191962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/06/facebook-privacy-issues.html' title='Facebook Privacy Issues'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimVvpN7n6EESUwpPgNHW2n1AFmPdjrxSzxvcKDCbutYbk1DoaDBSF4BfIIjBoE-yJVDPr6h4W8nVgG9HB_CXaBLWUwuON4VAHyjNEgXtDOQ_fOwyLeomLHPP2n_oZzdBzhRH9p9fzkpThY/s72-c/facebook+by+smemon87.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-8602940181758619666</id><published>2011-05-12T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T13:42:22.004-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What&#39;s in a name?</title><content type='html'>I just read an interesting article in the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/12/fashion/noticed-who-are-you-calling-grandma.html?_r=1&amp;amp;scp=1&amp;amp;sq=grandparents.com&amp;amp;st=cse&quot;&gt;New York Times&lt;/a&gt; about how today&#39;s &quot;young-ish&quot; grandparents don&#39;t want to be called the traditional names because they don&#39;t want to feel old.&amp;nbsp; I had to laugh as we were queried regularly as to what we wanted to be called when our first grandchild was about to arrive.&amp;nbsp; Her southern grandparents had a lot of ideas, including meemaw, peepaw, mimi, pappa -- I don&#39;t even know how to spell them (but you know who you are!)&amp;nbsp; At one point our son said &quot;This is SO not a problem in my family!&quot;&amp;nbsp; We were the more traditional grandparents, I guess, assuming we&#39;d just go with &quot;grandma&quot; and &quot;grandpa.&quot;&amp;nbsp; I have a good friend who managed to have &quot;grandmother&quot; stick with her grandson.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So we went with the traditional but as soon as our oldest granddaughter began to talk, she shortened the &quot;grandma&quot; to Ahma and Ahma it has been.&amp;nbsp; The other grandkids took it up as well, and that&#39;s who I am.&amp;nbsp; My husband, on the other hand, remained &quot;Grandpa Ken,&quot; until a younger grandchild shortened that to &quot;Bompa.&quot;&amp;nbsp; A local grandson, who had another name for him by then, finally said, &quot;I guess I&#39;ll call him Bompa -- everybody else does!&quot;&amp;nbsp; When he really wants to get a point across or get his attention, he calls him &quot;Bomp!&quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And those southern name-calling grandparents?&amp;nbsp; Well, we have Ahma Peggy, Ahma Karen, and me!&amp;nbsp; I say let the kids name us, but we at least need to give them a starting point that they can morph!&amp;nbsp; And whether we choose a name we think will make us seem younger or not, you can&#39;t fool the kids.&amp;nbsp; One day my grandson said, &quot;Ahma, you&#39;re really OLD!&quot;&amp;nbsp; Yup, and I love being a grandmother, whatever you want to call me!&amp;nbsp;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/8602940181758619666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/05/whats-in-name.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/8602940181758619666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/8602940181758619666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/05/whats-in-name.html' title='What&#39;s in a name?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-6536779301059592945</id><published>2011-05-09T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T16:59:53.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mother&#39;s Negligee</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8f9MunetdIEpTSIgl_5uZYjpPrMAmXuKypq3hkn-LXj1AUVZgjtLy306XEWpHrXES_xuM9Ek1iu2D3Vs23_3sOG_mLWDYgffvrfIKsCXwtRDArNH7Nd7hzqACzMVr2ZzuWalXoakW_wnZ/s1600/mom+negligee2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8f9MunetdIEpTSIgl_5uZYjpPrMAmXuKypq3hkn-LXj1AUVZgjtLy306XEWpHrXES_xuM9Ek1iu2D3Vs23_3sOG_mLWDYgffvrfIKsCXwtRDArNH7Nd7hzqACzMVr2ZzuWalXoakW_wnZ/s1600/mom+negligee2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;186&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8f9MunetdIEpTSIgl_5uZYjpPrMAmXuKypq3hkn-LXj1AUVZgjtLy306XEWpHrXES_xuM9Ek1iu2D3Vs23_3sOG_mLWDYgffvrfIKsCXwtRDArNH7Nd7hzqACzMVr2ZzuWalXoakW_wnZ/s200/mom+negligee2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here&#39;s a post Mother&#39;s Day story about an incident that happened with my mother.&amp;nbsp; My sister and I visited our parents in Arizona for their 67th wedding anniversary.&amp;nbsp; While there, my sister and my mom went shopping, paid for their purchases, got back into the car and drove back to mom&#39;s home.&amp;nbsp; Upon arriving in the parking lot, my sister asked mom what she had on her back, as something was peeking around the corner of her shoulder.&amp;nbsp; Imagine their surprise when they found THIS hooked to the back of my mom&#39;s jacket, hanger in the back of her neck, complete with bikini underwear! So much for tight security in the shopping center, no one even noticed, including mom and my sister.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Embarrassed, not wanting to be taken as shoplifters, my sister returned the item to the store and told the store personnel that her 85-year-old mother had gotten this for her 67th wedding anniversary but decided it wasn&#39;t quite right!&amp;nbsp; Then she told them the real story and everyone laughed hysterically.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My mother (and my dad) had so much fun with this story.&amp;nbsp; My sister took the pictures and had them enlarged for the anniversary party.&amp;nbsp; My mom told the story again and again and her friends laughed uproariously with each new telling.&amp;nbsp; My sister and I went back to the store and bought the negligee, presenting it to mom for her anniversary!&amp;nbsp; My dad hung it on the back of the door in their apartment for all to see!&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxS_YdqGlDY_9VRez90GkZFd7nRGcCW5LsD6VqoaBsdRi4YiwXGZQCYyjizEcXza6jCP1B7hi1Buv-NY25-Enr-m7_JmsbwfPZo0W16k_2zgeUjzR8OFjziY0MAj-aywDWTVwj81iVQbCA/s1600/Arizona%252C67th+anniversary+004.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxS_YdqGlDY_9VRez90GkZFd7nRGcCW5LsD6VqoaBsdRi4YiwXGZQCYyjizEcXza6jCP1B7hi1Buv-NY25-Enr-m7_JmsbwfPZo0W16k_2zgeUjzR8OFjziY0MAj-aywDWTVwj81iVQbCA/s200/Arizona%252C67th+anniversary+004.jpg&quot; width=&quot;150&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Here&#39;s the final picture.&amp;nbsp; We will remember this story for years to come.&amp;nbsp; So glad you enjoyed it, Mom!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/6536779301059592945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-mothers-negligee.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/6536779301059592945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/6536779301059592945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-mothers-negligee.html' title='My Mother&#39;s Negligee'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8f9MunetdIEpTSIgl_5uZYjpPrMAmXuKypq3hkn-LXj1AUVZgjtLy306XEWpHrXES_xuM9Ek1iu2D3Vs23_3sOG_mLWDYgffvrfIKsCXwtRDArNH7Nd7hzqACzMVr2ZzuWalXoakW_wnZ/s72-c/mom+negligee2.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-3589903073605385541</id><published>2011-04-26T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T11:22:21.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A poem</title><content type='html'>We have had a very miserable spring, breaking all records for days without sunshine, rain measurements and cranky Northwesterners.&amp;nbsp; The flowers and flowering trees are gorgeous, thanks to all that rain, but behind schedule for blooming.&amp;nbsp; Check out this poem by one of my favorite writers, Jim Schmotzer, called &lt;a href=&quot;http://thefaithfulskeptic.blogspot.com/2011/04/it-rains-all-time-doesnt-it.html&quot;&gt;&quot;It rains all the time, doesn&#39;t it?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEeZ9xIoC9RMZ4q7W0GpZJrX70IvMtyQbFVhLYJwdszxxToTQ14iMncCXwkt0MChhV34KwmqBBar0g91wXy3FkMfsiwgzgzmvdGhNnWQo4I_1uXYGGli1GSJBW-T8UGm-CETTFkQWww5Ws/s1600/umbrella%252C+solidether.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEeZ9xIoC9RMZ4q7W0GpZJrX70IvMtyQbFVhLYJwdszxxToTQ14iMncCXwkt0MChhV34KwmqBBar0g91wXy3FkMfsiwgzgzmvdGhNnWQo4I_1uXYGGli1GSJBW-T8UGm-CETTFkQWww5Ws/s1600/umbrella%252C+solidether.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This managed to cheer me up somewhat on this, another gloomy day, with many more in the forecast!&amp;nbsp; (We did, however, get a glorious reprieve over the Easter weekend, lest you think I didn&#39;t notice and appreciate that brief interlude.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Photo by solidether, shared via Flickr)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/3589903073605385541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/04/poem.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/3589903073605385541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/3589903073605385541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/04/poem.html' title='A poem'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEeZ9xIoC9RMZ4q7W0GpZJrX70IvMtyQbFVhLYJwdszxxToTQ14iMncCXwkt0MChhV34KwmqBBar0g91wXy3FkMfsiwgzgzmvdGhNnWQo4I_1uXYGGli1GSJBW-T8UGm-CETTFkQWww5Ws/s72-c/umbrella%252C+solidether.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-1804197675855041139</id><published>2011-04-20T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T18:33:38.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sales Pitch Fail</title><content type='html'>My husband and I watch almost no television.&amp;nbsp; Now don&#39;t get me wrong, we&#39;re not bragging.&amp;nbsp; We watch a ton of Netflix movies and television series via Netflix, Hulu, Roku -- we just like not having the ads or the hassles of watching at a time the networks think we should watch.&amp;nbsp; So I recently decided that it was time to get our cable bill under control.&amp;nbsp; I have a habit of calling the cable company every 6 months and getting my bill reduced to &quot;keep me as a loyal customer.&quot;&amp;nbsp; That recently stopped working and I&#39;ve watched the bill climb higher and higher.&amp;nbsp; I realized that the only reason I was getting more than just the limited basic cable channels was so that I could watch baseball games.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, armed with determination, and having spent a very long time on the telephone with an idiotic salesperson, I went into the Comcast offices to see what I could do.&amp;nbsp; I wanted to lower our rate, bottom line.&amp;nbsp; When I walked out the door, I had a huge bag full of new equipment, a larger modem for our high-speed internet, 2 complex remotes, a new box to attach to my television, and was the proud owner of more television channels than one could imagine.&amp;nbsp; Oh, and now I could order (and pay) for movies that I now receive free from Netflix.&amp;nbsp; Oh, and my phone would be &quot;ported&quot; over to Comcast, allowing me to keep the same phone number and save the money on the phone line.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Upon arriving home, I began to feel overwhelmed and burdened by my new collection of unused television channels.&amp;nbsp; If I wasn&#39;t using the 100 I had before, how would adding another couple hundred inane channels make me any happier?&amp;nbsp; The small savings for changing my telephone service did not warrant the pain and suffering we were going to go through to learn a new system and change all of our connections.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today I went back with my untouched bag of equipment and not only reversed the changes I had made, but downgraded to limited basic.&amp;nbsp; Gone is my ability to watch my baseball games, but I cut our bill 50%!&amp;nbsp; I find that I can pay to watch my games online (during just the baseball season rather than paying all year) or I can listen on the radio and save even more.&amp;nbsp; (My team isn&#39;t much fun to watch this year anyway).&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcb4iSdf20_X7N6V2fkS2R2MYIzlmaUB-6IK1J0NoyDjYlFHgGidaThWVeLYLNTEqsXKEYKRk06dAL35kVSDHf4DQreVT3-a_GJMcVly_P7A2VTFpE6im_8GZgSduG-VTfE8A3P3qankq/s1600/my+television.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcb4iSdf20_X7N6V2fkS2R2MYIzlmaUB-6IK1J0NoyDjYlFHgGidaThWVeLYLNTEqsXKEYKRk06dAL35kVSDHf4DQreVT3-a_GJMcVly_P7A2VTFpE6im_8GZgSduG-VTfE8A3P3qankq/s320/my+television.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But my point?&amp;nbsp; I was surprised that &lt;i&gt;even I&lt;/i&gt; was susceptible to this slick presentation by a very nice salesman who convinced me that, in order to save a total of about $20, all of this grief was worthwhile -- and wonderful, in his opinion.&amp;nbsp; He kept emphasizing the long list of cable channels I would now have, not really hearing me when I said I don&#39;t watch any channels now (except baseball).&amp;nbsp; His instructions for hookup were making my head spin; I was caught up in the small savings yet big upgrade improvement!&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We live in a country where we are spoiled by the options.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m feeling quite noble for bucking the system -- in my own small way!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Photo by doegox, shared via Flickr)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/1804197675855041139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/04/sales-pitch-fail.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/1804197675855041139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/1804197675855041139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/04/sales-pitch-fail.html' title='Sales Pitch Fail'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcb4iSdf20_X7N6V2fkS2R2MYIzlmaUB-6IK1J0NoyDjYlFHgGidaThWVeLYLNTEqsXKEYKRk06dAL35kVSDHf4DQreVT3-a_GJMcVly_P7A2VTFpE6im_8GZgSduG-VTfE8A3P3qankq/s72-c/my+television.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-6665390667172990055</id><published>2011-04-17T01:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T01:00:03.515-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Myth of Aging Gracefully</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.newsweek.com/2011/01/30/the-myth-of-aging-gracefully.html&quot;&gt;THIS is an interesting article&lt;/a&gt; about the myth of aging gracefully.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s a little depressing, but oh so true.&amp;nbsp; We can talk a lot about aging gracefully, but if our bodies or our minds don&#39;t cooperate, we may not have a choice.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
Here is a quote from the article:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;Who wants to live to 100? Just about everyone, if old age fulfills the  fantasy that we can sail through our 90s with vigorous bodies and minds  and die instantly of a heart attack, preferably while making love or  running the last of many marathons....The truth is that we are all capable of aging successfully—until we aren’t.&lt;/blockquote&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/6665390667172990055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/04/myth-of-aging-gracefully.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/6665390667172990055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/6665390667172990055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/04/myth-of-aging-gracefully.html' title='The Myth of Aging Gracefully'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-4970477862988607585</id><published>2011-04-12T16:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T16:49:57.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shingles</title><content type='html'>I have written before about shingles and the need for all of us to have the vaccination, but couldn&#39;t pass up the opportunity to write about it again.&amp;nbsp; A friend of mine posted this picture on Facebook and gave me permission to use it to warn everyone over the age of 60 to get the shot.&amp;nbsp; I hadn&#39;t heard of shingles appearing on someone&#39;s face before.&amp;nbsp; If this doesn&#39;t convince you to get the vaccination, nothing will! &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIAaBjQJ9E7sgwy32jcu1u8VDw3PBPKcMYaXTvH91l0ovmoW7RdpGORbdQMQbSQ5wGIpV0FT9N_tMYsAwjKu0JgXohzkqn_RQieJhDbitLr4BrRwVNSPBaCpLa6H4poiNpJ7pO7ijxmIC1/s1600/Shingles.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIAaBjQJ9E7sgwy32jcu1u8VDw3PBPKcMYaXTvH91l0ovmoW7RdpGORbdQMQbSQ5wGIpV0FT9N_tMYsAwjKu0JgXohzkqn_RQieJhDbitLr4BrRwVNSPBaCpLa6H4poiNpJ7pO7ijxmIC1/s320/Shingles.jpg&quot; width=&quot;241&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;According to &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.webmd.com/skin-problems-and-treatments/shingles/shingles-topic-overview&quot;&gt;WebMD:&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;Shingles  occurs when the     virus that causes     chickenpox starts up again in  your body. After you get     better from chickenpox, the virus &quot;sleeps&quot;  (is dormant) in your nerve roots. In     some people, it stays dormant  forever. In others, the virus &quot;wakes up&quot; when     disease, stress, or  aging weakens the     immune system. It is not clear why this happens.  But     after the virus becomes active again, it can only cause  shingles, not     chickenpox.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You can&#39;t catch shingles from  someone else who has     shingles....While you have shingles, you can  spread     chickenpox to people who have never had chickenpox. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.webmd.com/skin-problems-and-treatments/slideshow-common-adult-skin-problems&quot; onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The &lt;a href=&quot;http://img.webmd.com/dtmcms/live/webmd/consumer_assets/site_images/media/pdf/hw/form_vis23.pdf&quot;&gt;shingles vaccine&lt;/a&gt;  is newly available and is known as Zostavax and is recommended for  adults 60 and older, whether or not they&#39;ve had shingles before.     There is information about the vaccine from the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.cdc.gov/vaccines/vpd-vac/shingles/vac-faqs.htm&quot;&gt;Center for Disease Control.&lt;/a&gt;   The vaccine has only been tested in people over 60 years of age at  this point.  I heard about it and was interested because both my mother  and my sister have had painful bouts of shingles.  There are pros and  cons for any type of vaccine, of course, but the pain and suffering that  occurs from a case of shingles is a good reason to consider getting the  vaccine.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/4970477862988607585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/04/shingles.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/4970477862988607585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/4970477862988607585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/04/shingles.html' title='Shingles'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIAaBjQJ9E7sgwy32jcu1u8VDw3PBPKcMYaXTvH91l0ovmoW7RdpGORbdQMQbSQ5wGIpV0FT9N_tMYsAwjKu0JgXohzkqn_RQieJhDbitLr4BrRwVNSPBaCpLa6H4poiNpJ7pO7ijxmIC1/s72-c/Shingles.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5231418119402335896.post-8986460197175546092</id><published>2011-04-04T01:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T01:00:05.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The AGNES Suit</title><content type='html'>In case you were wondering what it feels like to be old, &lt;a href=&quot;http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/41587310/ns/today-today_health/&quot;&gt;check out this video&lt;/a&gt; about the AGNES suit, designed by MIT to simulate old age and foster empathy in those who haven&#39;t yet experienced the joys of aging.&amp;nbsp; As well as encouraging empathy, for those of us fast approaching what is now considered &quot;old&quot; it can be pretty depressing.&amp;nbsp; On the other hand, maybe it will also encourage us to keep up exercise as long as physically possible in order to stay fit!&amp;nbsp; AGNES stands for&lt;i&gt; Age Gain Now Empathy Suit.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;(10 second ad must be watched before video starts.)&amp;nbsp;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/feeds/8986460197175546092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/04/agnes-suit.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/8986460197175546092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5231418119402335896/posts/default/8986460197175546092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrymcnichols.blogspot.com/2011/04/agnes-suit.html' title='The AGNES Suit'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>