<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" xmlns:creativeCommons="http://backend.userland.com/creativeCommonsRssModule" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><title>a NOLA state of mind!</title><link>http://debhid.blogspot.com/</link><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/ANolaStateOfMind" /><description>ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease)is a disease that has taken hold of my body.



It has changed my body, but I will not allow it to change who I am.</description><language>en</language><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</managingEditor><lastBuildDate>Mon, 30 Jan 2012 15:01:13 PST</lastBuildDate><generator>Blogger http://www.blogger.com</generator><openSearch:totalResults xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/">28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/">1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/">25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><feedburner:info uri="anolastateofmind" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><itunes:owner><itunes:email>noreply@blogger.com</itunes:email></itunes:owner><itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit><itunes:subtitle>ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease)is a disease that has taken hold of my body. It has changed my body, but I will not allow it to change who I am.</itunes:subtitle><itunes:summary>ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease)is a disease that has taken hold of my body. It has changed my body, but I will not allow it to change who I am.</itunes:summary><creativeCommons:license>http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/</creativeCommons:license><feedburner:emailServiceId>ANolaStateOfMind</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><item><title>Cute As A Monkey?</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/gkKJtASnyG4/cute-as-monkey.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Thu, 12 Jan 2012 16:13:32 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-5936546102247856008</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bo09bB6ROwM/Tw905Qa2OjI/AAAAAAAAALY/mXtaSrsKUzU/s1600/mail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bo09bB6ROwM/Tw905Qa2OjI/AAAAAAAAALY/mXtaSrsKUzU/s1600/mail.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When mom left her home and family in Arizona to join daddy in Greece letter writing, almost daily, became mom's connection to them. &amp;nbsp;I think they said, "I'll write you every day" and took it literally. &amp;nbsp;I am talking books, on some days. &amp;nbsp;When Grandma Shaffer, mom's mother, "cleaned house" for one move, she gave mom what had been saved of those letters. &amp;nbsp;When I first started working on the "Hidalgo" genealogy and assembling pictures, bibles, stories and the like I stumbled on these letters. &amp;nbsp;What a find, right. &amp;nbsp;Okay, now 10 years later and having the time to reorganize and sync all of my notes, I am putting these letters in page protectors and reading them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They wrote on tissue thin writing stationary with fountain pens. &amp;nbsp;All of the letters are in perfect condition. &amp;nbsp;They are somewhat hard to read. &amp;nbsp;Oh, wait ... not because of the fountain pen on tissue paper. &amp;nbsp;My mom's cursive is somewhat small, but stretched and seldom can you see white space in her "e", "s" or "a". &amp;nbsp;Just hard to decipher, I should say.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Letters were dated and denoted place: &amp;nbsp;"Up In the Air", "On the B &amp;amp; O", "New York", "On the Atlantic", "Athens", "Germany" ... and wherever else they might be when writing. &amp;nbsp;Letters generally started with something about "writer's cramp" or "not doing anything" ... seriously ... they were living in Athens. &amp;nbsp;While nothing had been done one day, another letter was penned the next day - oh, a letter to mom's family and one to daddy's family. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Funny ... mom described hotel rooms and restaurants in detail, to include how clean the place was. &amp;nbsp;She would have made a great critic for the travel and restaurant industry! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;During one rainy week daddy complained his tan was fading (I wonder if "tanning" is a genetic thing). Daddy remarked on a picture of mom's brother and how he had bulked up from using bar bells - he thought he "might be too old" to use them ... he was 23. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Some phrases that caught my eye -&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;"... she's (Cindy) growing like a bad weed"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;"... she (Cindy) climbs on everything ... sometimes I think she's part monkey ..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;"... we don't buy steak at the commissary as it is $1.45 a pound"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;"Ordered a '52 Chevy, 4-door ... cost $1,605 ..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;March 12, 1953 ... "after dinner we went to the theater to see &lt;b&gt;Gone With the Wind&lt;/b&gt; ..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;"... Cindy and I will just sit tight ... I will go get Nadine and Michael Charles ..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;"... she's (Debbie) getting as cute as a monkey ... take after the Hidalgo ... bald ..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;"... Debra's got quite an extensive vocabulary and chatters all day long ..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I had one question for my daddy. &amp;nbsp;Exactly how cute is a monkey with no hair? &amp;nbsp;Daddy told me, "As cute as I want it to be".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-5936546102247856008?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UMHIwLa1Zs2e9WWgZrAFh0AnsTA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UMHIwLa1Zs2e9WWgZrAFh0AnsTA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UMHIwLa1Zs2e9WWgZrAFh0AnsTA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UMHIwLa1Zs2e9WWgZrAFh0AnsTA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/gkKJtASnyG4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-12T18:13:32.444-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bo09bB6ROwM/Tw905Qa2OjI/AAAAAAAAALY/mXtaSrsKUzU/s72-c/mail.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2012/01/cute-as-monkey.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>I Had Sugar Plums ... Now Look It Is Christmas Eve</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/qTcIbPEyLlk/i-had-sugar-plums-now-look-it-is.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Sat, 24 Dec 2011 12:49:41 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-5382791212124726054</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ad5VlrV6Kt8/TvY6pnB3ecI/AAAAAAAAALQ/egQX8DcnXZE/s1600/twas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="158" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ad5VlrV6Kt8/TvY6pnB3ecI/AAAAAAAAALQ/egQX8DcnXZE/s200/twas.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Picture this - four kids - ages seven, six, four and two. &amp;nbsp;We lived in Omaha, Nebraska and in the winter there were snow/ice drifts everywhere. &amp;nbsp;At Christmas we felt it necessary to have a snowman in the front yard - I guess we thought Frosty needed a friend. &amp;nbsp;Quite honestly, I could have cared less ... he was made of snow, you had to touch it to make it round and I hated cold weather and snow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Sorry, I had squirrel for a minute. &amp;nbsp;Mom had to bundle each of us up - wool pants, sweater, boots, wool coat, scarf, mittens and cap - times four. &amp;nbsp;Cindy, Marcia and Mike actually had fun in the snow. &amp;nbsp;Mike, at two was just fascinated with the snow. &amp;nbsp;The three of them would have snow ball fights, make snow angels and just have fun. &amp;nbsp;Seriously&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Wingdings 2';"&gt;_ &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Lay down in the wet snow and flap your arms up and down ... no thank you! &amp;nbsp;I mean, we were buttoned up with so much on, our arms stuck out away from our body. &amp;nbsp;We could barely walk, much less fall into the snow to make angels. &amp;nbsp;Now, when we moved back there from England (I was in the eighth grade) I would walk out there for "guppy freezing" contests, but that is another day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I know you wonder why bother to get all bundled up if I did not go out to play. &amp;nbsp;Well, it was not because I thought I looked pretty ... no, I had to say I helped. &amp;nbsp;So, once the snow was transformed into Frosty the Snowman's new best friend, I would venture outside. &amp;nbsp;The snow would crunch under my boots and the wind whipped across my face as I made the long journey to the snowman. &amp;nbsp;Finally there, I would look at the snowman's face like a clean&amp;nbsp;palette&amp;nbsp;for me to paint my picture, or in my case, find the exact center of the round face to place his nose. &amp;nbsp;Cold and barely able to bend my little hands around the carrot (mittens, remember) I placed it on his face. &amp;nbsp;I would look at my work ... then turn around and make my hasty retreat back to the house. &amp;nbsp;I would knock on the door (who could turn the door knob with those darn mittens), mom would let me in and she would take the coat and winter wear off of me. &amp;nbsp;"Look mommy, I helped build the snowman".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Time mom spent dressing four kids ... way too long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Time I spent outside ... less than five minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-5382791212124726054?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DNUavKEqEhR9VFmOqQORcVxPhxU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DNUavKEqEhR9VFmOqQORcVxPhxU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DNUavKEqEhR9VFmOqQORcVxPhxU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DNUavKEqEhR9VFmOqQORcVxPhxU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/qTcIbPEyLlk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-24T14:49:41.202-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ad5VlrV6Kt8/TvY6pnB3ecI/AAAAAAAAALQ/egQX8DcnXZE/s72-c/twas.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-had-sugar-plums-now-look-it-is.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Oh My Goodness, Four More Days 'Til Christmas!</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/LNyiVh5412s/oh-my-goodness-four-more-days-til.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 21 Dec 2011 07:44:06 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-615483516028705348</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D-msEn4cu4M/TvHyco0FlGI/AAAAAAAAAKw/CQMAXIxsO_8/s1600/lightofchristmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D-msEn4cu4M/TvHyco0FlGI/AAAAAAAAAKw/CQMAXIxsO_8/s200/lightofchristmas.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Some of the best memories of childhood, for anyone, are stirred by the smell of something baking ~ that warm, yummy sugar smell. &amp;nbsp;Mama did not bake with a recipe and I remember seeing mom watching mama prepare something and all the while she wrote down what she saw. &amp;nbsp;That got me thinking ... mama must have put "secret" ingredients in when nobody was looking and recipes we try just do not taste like when mama baked them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Another smell that reminds me of Christmas is that of burning the cane before harvest - no it did not ruin the cane, rather it burned away a lot of the trash so that there was a cleaner harvest. &amp;nbsp;After the burning they would cut the cane and put it in the trucks that took it to the refinery. &amp;nbsp;You could see kids chasing after the trucks as they pulled off the plantation road onto the highway to the refinery ... going after the stalks of cane that fell off the trucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Back to my sweet memories ... they were still burning the crops during Christmas season ... ah, that smell. &amp;nbsp;Oh, okay, back on track. &amp;nbsp;Whenever we were visiting for Christmas we could be sure that some of the workers (probably because papa asked them) would come get us (girls), take us by the hand and walk with us by the cane crops. &amp;nbsp;We would stop, they would sickle off stalks of cane, clean the bottom edges and hand us each our own stalk. &amp;nbsp;They would take our hands again and we would walk with them while we sucked on the cane like lollipops - getting out all that sweet cane juice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;That got me thinking (yes, again and as we must have when we were little) ... &lt;b&gt;we didn't chase no stinkin' trucks!&lt;/b&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-615483516028705348?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cTZ6CmBftJNeLL08YDPKHnTcSg4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cTZ6CmBftJNeLL08YDPKHnTcSg4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cTZ6CmBftJNeLL08YDPKHnTcSg4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cTZ6CmBftJNeLL08YDPKHnTcSg4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/LNyiVh5412s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-21T09:44:06.313-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D-msEn4cu4M/TvHyco0FlGI/AAAAAAAAAKw/CQMAXIxsO_8/s72-c/lightofchristmas.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/oh-my-goodness-four-more-days-til.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Only Five More Days 'Til Christmas!</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/gO0RQpBc2ms/only-five-more-days-til-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Tue, 20 Dec 2011 07:03:07 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-7768790096214176839</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EbJ647WOmMs/TvCjhwBqLiI/AAAAAAAAAKo/U2MMWdyG_e0/s1600/emily+dickinson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="166" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EbJ647WOmMs/TvCjhwBqLiI/AAAAAAAAAKo/U2MMWdyG_e0/s200/emily+dickinson.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Christmas mass was always eagerly awaited - well we got to show off our pretty new clothes - but, as with other outings, it had its challenges!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Catholic mass - if I remember correctly - &amp;nbsp;was still said in Latin and was never shorter than one hour. &amp;nbsp;It may still have been a "high" mass ... or maybe we were (mama always treated us to cafe 'ole in demitasse cups - lots of sweet milk with&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;caffeine - yeah, it was us). &amp;nbsp;I wanted to set the stage for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Well, you know how little girls, when showing off, will take the end of their skirt and sort of lift it and move from side to side (as if sass-shaying to "oh I'm pretty, oh so pretty ..."). &amp;nbsp;Oh, not me ... or Cindy! &amp;nbsp;I like to think we knew better. &amp;nbsp;Nah, it was because we were in Louisiana - small town, small church - we were sitting real close to mama and we were in the very front row. More stage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Well, Marcia must have felt particularly pretty and was turned facing the congregation (yikes!). &amp;nbsp;Mama quietly, no not quietly - mama was not quiet - told Marcia to turn around, stay still and pay attention to mass. &amp;nbsp;One, two, three seconds Marcia stood still. &amp;nbsp;High on sugar and wanting everyone to see how pretty she was, she took up showing off again. &amp;nbsp;In her defense, she did stay facing the alter. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mama was the boss when we were visiting her - she really wanted everyone to see how well behaved we were (okay, and cute). &amp;nbsp;Mama leaned down and lightly pinched Marcia on her ruffly panties and again told her to behave. &amp;nbsp;Well, a little embarrassed, Marcia looked up at Mama and very loudly said, "Mama, don't you pinch me on my hinnie in church." &amp;nbsp;You really could hear a pin drop and&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"&gt;very quickly the priest picked his jaw up and continued the mass (a little faster so he could be done).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"&gt;I would say the pinch was nothing (she was not allowed to go outside to play). &amp;nbsp;We went back to mama's after mass and changed clothes. &amp;nbsp;It was kind of quiet around the house. &amp;nbsp;Cindy and I went outside to play. &amp;nbsp;We raced up to the levee, then to the top of the levee, we &amp;nbsp;looked back at the house - and then we played ... on "the other side of the levee". &amp;nbsp;Nobody else would be getting in trouble on Christmas day. &amp;nbsp;Yay! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-7768790096214176839?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/V7xkRttxowYx_foDLuU604_hWYc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/V7xkRttxowYx_foDLuU604_hWYc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/V7xkRttxowYx_foDLuU604_hWYc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/V7xkRttxowYx_foDLuU604_hWYc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/gO0RQpBc2ms" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-20T09:03:07.966-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EbJ647WOmMs/TvCjhwBqLiI/AAAAAAAAAKo/U2MMWdyG_e0/s72-c/emily+dickinson.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/only-five-more-days-til-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Six More Days 'Til Christmas!</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/Eot6AbRu5Z0/six-more-days-til-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Mon, 19 Dec 2011 07:26:06 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-302759094166679532</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QxGP8wzlrRw/Tu8pUOk6-eI/AAAAAAAAAKA/hTMVOClf8lI/s1600/spirit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="153" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QxGP8wzlrRw/Tu8pUOk6-eI/AAAAAAAAAKA/hTMVOClf8lI/s200/spirit.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Christmas in &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region w:st="on"&gt;England&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;
has special memories for me! &amp;nbsp;We went to&amp;nbsp;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;London&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; to see Peter Pan starring Mary Martin
as Peter Pan. &amp;nbsp;(It was not until&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dallas&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&amp;nbsp;became
a popular show with Larry&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Hagman&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;as
J.R. that we actually knew who she was.) &amp;nbsp;Mom knit in the dark of the
theatre - to finish our Christmas presents. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;When
mom and dad went out and about with our neighbors, the&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Watas,
they left the four of us with Joel and Lindsey. &amp;nbsp;Joel and Mike were the
same age and fast friends. &amp;nbsp;Lindsey was probably three and followed the
boys around wanting like crazy to play with them. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So,
the little ones were off "playing" Peter Pan and Cindy, Marcia and I
were doing our own thing - whatever that was. &amp;nbsp;We were not paying
particularly close attention to the terrible three. &amp;nbsp;We knew they were
behaving, as were we, because it was that time of year (you know - that
"naughty or nice" thing).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;The
parents came home, so we girls immediately scampered around and upstairs to let
the other three know (and so it looked like we were "watching" the
other three). &amp;nbsp;We walked into the room, with the parents behind us, as Mike
and Joel were telling Lindsey, "You can fly, Lindsey. &amp;nbsp;Just like Tinkerbelle.
&amp;nbsp;If you believe - you can fly." &amp;nbsp;Mike and Joel had Lindsey by
the ankles ... holding (well, "swinging" would actually be a better word) &amp;nbsp;her out of a second story window.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-302759094166679532?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tKlBJDtJBQqoqTTTz4sRjl4EhWw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tKlBJDtJBQqoqTTTz4sRjl4EhWw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tKlBJDtJBQqoqTTTz4sRjl4EhWw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tKlBJDtJBQqoqTTTz4sRjl4EhWw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/Eot6AbRu5Z0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-19T09:26:06.566-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QxGP8wzlrRw/Tu8pUOk6-eI/AAAAAAAAAKA/hTMVOClf8lI/s72-c/spirit.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/six-more-days-til-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My 9 Days of Christmas</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/jccArBrlFww/my-9-days-of-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Fri, 16 Dec 2011 16:31:08 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-5765033808428976733</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Well, ever since the last "update" on my computer I am unable to download any pictures - for my blog or onto my Facebook. &amp;nbsp;I will have to figure that out later. I need to do my "memory" for today - then I am going into work with Marcia and leave there to finish Christmas shopping. &amp;nbsp;We have done most at ".com", but there are just a few that we are stumped on. &amp;nbsp;Anyway ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When we lived in England base housing was fenced along back separating the housing from a huge farmer's field. &amp;nbsp;There were also big signs telling us "No Trespassing". &amp;nbsp;Well, you know how that is, especially to little boys. &amp;nbsp;It is like an open invitation to jump over the fence, stand on the other side and jump back over to home base ... when there was not a "farmer" and his tractor in sight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Well my little brother, Mike, loved those balsa wood glider planes. &amp;nbsp;One Christmas that was at the top of his wish list. &amp;nbsp;Santa left Mike a couple of them. &amp;nbsp;Of course we girls were curious why he should get "some" when he asked for "a" glider. &amp;nbsp;Maybe we had better behave around Christmas. &amp;nbsp;Nah, we were good ... enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We (us girls) never paid much attention to Mike when he was playing, except to witness Mike's fear of the farmer? &amp;nbsp;Dad and Mike put together one of his gliders and Mike went outside to play. &amp;nbsp;The wind carried the plane in its graceful decent &amp;nbsp;and it did its perfect landing ... in the farmer's field. &amp;nbsp;Well normally that would have been a quick jump, retrieve and back. &amp;nbsp;However, this day far in the distance was the farmer on his tractor and he was headed toward Mike.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mike waited patiently until the farmer was in ear shot and Mike started his plea. &amp;nbsp;"Oh Mr. Farmer. &amp;nbsp;My plane landed in your field, just over there (and he pointed). &amp;nbsp;Can I come get it?" &amp;nbsp;Mike repeated it several times. &amp;nbsp;The farmer stopped, just short of where the plane rested. &amp;nbsp;Mike called out to the farmer again. &amp;nbsp;The farmer started up again, looking at Mike, then the plane. &amp;nbsp;He looked at Mike intently, just as the plane crunched under the tires of the tractor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Well, no wonder. &amp;nbsp;Santa knew there was a mean Mr. Farmer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-5765033808428976733?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/t7gw-cUCndLw75jxG8L1TeIj1wE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/t7gw-cUCndLw75jxG8L1TeIj1wE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/t7gw-cUCndLw75jxG8L1TeIj1wE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/t7gw-cUCndLw75jxG8L1TeIj1wE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/jccArBrlFww" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-16T18:31:08.300-06:00</app:edited><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-9-days-of-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My 10 Days of Christmas</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/PgW1cXvPWrY/my-10-days-of-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Thu, 15 Dec 2011 07:27:20 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-2798985840777589495</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jwC06RNR210/Tui2WPDUjAI/AAAAAAAAAJw/4c99nIJ0U58/s1600/mtrter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="158" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jwC06RNR210/Tui2WPDUjAI/AAAAAAAAAJw/4c99nIJ0U58/s200/mtrter.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Daddy was stationed in Greece, at the American Embassy, when Cindy and I were born. &amp;nbsp;Mom and dad had a Greek housekeeper who cleaned, cooked, shopped and taught Cindy Greek. &amp;nbsp;Cindy was very international. &amp;nbsp;Christmas rolled around so mom and dad took Cindy to see Santa Claus. &amp;nbsp;There was a nice long wait, but Cindy saw all the other kids go up to the big, jolly man. &amp;nbsp;She saw them sit on his lap. &amp;nbsp;She saw that they had pictures taken. &amp;nbsp;She saw the other children laughing. &amp;nbsp;She saw them get off Santa's lap and walk away with their family with a big smile on their face and a candy cane in their hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Cindy, mom and dad waited and waited. &amp;nbsp;Finally it is Cindy's turn to sit on Santa's lap. &amp;nbsp;Mom picked Cindy up, placed her on Santa's lap and turned to step back. &amp;nbsp;Wait, screaming child - what did she call Santa? &amp;nbsp;"Ba-boo, ba-boo", she screamed. &amp;nbsp;All the other children staring, probably wondering why that little girl was screaming at the nice man. &amp;nbsp;Cindy's use of the Greek language was surprising. &amp;nbsp;No, come to think of it, she spoke Greek first. &amp;nbsp;Mom and dad had to coax English out of her. &amp;nbsp;Hmm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Cindy called Santa &amp;nbsp;a "Boogie man". She would not sit on his lap. &amp;nbsp;She did not want her picture taken. &amp;nbsp;Come to think of it, the only picture I remember seeing to mark the event was one of Cindy crying, being handed to mom. &amp;nbsp;Oh well, maybe next year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;(A little disclaimer here - I have no clue how to spell "ba-boo" in Greek, nor could I make any sense of it when I tried to use an online translator. &amp;nbsp;Mom told us this story a long time ago and she told us what Cindy screamed and what it meant.)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-2798985840777589495?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F_6mfgGehs1YTzI53-21Cb8ouj0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F_6mfgGehs1YTzI53-21Cb8ouj0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F_6mfgGehs1YTzI53-21Cb8ouj0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F_6mfgGehs1YTzI53-21Cb8ouj0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/PgW1cXvPWrY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-15T09:27:20.725-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jwC06RNR210/Tui2WPDUjAI/AAAAAAAAAJw/4c99nIJ0U58/s72-c/mtrter.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-10-days-of-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My 11 Days of Christmas</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/x3392qc2yLI/my-11-days-of-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2011 07:02:40 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-1169433800176185852</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zfuthIj5vEg/TuepJ6xbCeI/AAAAAAAAAJo/MlutWwISiTw/s1600/joke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="170" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zfuthIj5vEg/TuepJ6xbCeI/AAAAAAAAAJo/MlutWwISiTw/s200/joke.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Those trips to &lt;st1:state w:st="on"&gt;Louisiana&lt;/st1:state&gt; and &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:state w:st="on"&gt;Arizona&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;
were, for the most part, uneventful - except for our childhood car games. We
were all tired by the time we were close to our destination - emotionally and
physically. &amp;nbsp;As we got even closer mom would remind us, "Please behave.
&amp;nbsp;No running around the house. &amp;nbsp;No sitting on the beds. &amp;nbsp;Do not
play over the levee." &amp;nbsp;No this and no that. &amp;nbsp;"Oh, have
fun."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;In
&lt;st1:state w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Louisiana&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;, my
papa was the engineer at a sugar plantation, so my grandparents lived in the "big white house" on the premises. We crossed over a cattle guard to
get on the plantation road, the last leg (just minutes) of our trip. &amp;nbsp;I would slide to
the edge of the seat and ever so lightly tap daddy on the shoulder and quietly
say, "Daddy can we stop? &amp;nbsp;I think I'm going to throw up."
&amp;nbsp;Daddy would tell me just to sit back we were almost there. &amp;nbsp;I would
slide back - then just as quickly slide forward again. &amp;nbsp;Again, I would ask
him to stop and he would tell me to sit back. &amp;nbsp;Cindy, Marcia and Mike were touching, so they could be away from me - they probably thought I was going to get in trouble. &amp;nbsp;Only mom would look at me
and say, "Larry, you need to pull over", but daddy pressed on.
&amp;nbsp;Just when mom started pleading my case again - I did not need daddy to
pull over. &amp;nbsp;Daddy pulled over anyway, so he could yank his shirt off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;After
that, on trips to &lt;st1:state w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Louisiana&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;,
I got to walk across the cattle guard. &amp;nbsp;Sorry daddy, but I really needed
you to stop. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-1169433800176185852?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7y-Eda7n9whzTEqjFiFWa5qZaoU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7y-Eda7n9whzTEqjFiFWa5qZaoU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7y-Eda7n9whzTEqjFiFWa5qZaoU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7y-Eda7n9whzTEqjFiFWa5qZaoU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/x3392qc2yLI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T09:02:40.858-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zfuthIj5vEg/TuepJ6xbCeI/AAAAAAAAAJo/MlutWwISiTw/s72-c/joke.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-11-days-of-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My 12 Days of Christmas</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/m9NCjShKe10/my-12-days-of-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2011 06:48:24 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-6597912240458781527</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mYy9OKuMyPU/Tuau-6u-I7I/AAAAAAAAAJg/ru_u5NtIZ9c/s1600/daveberry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="157" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mYy9OKuMyPU/Tuau-6u-I7I/AAAAAAAAAJg/ru_u5NtIZ9c/s200/daveberry.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When our grandparents did not come to us to celebrate Christmas ... well we went to them. &amp;nbsp;Everyone saw us equally - if we went to Louisiana for Christmas, then we went to Arizona for Easter. &amp;nbsp;Thank goodness we never worried or asked how Santa would know where we would be if we went somewhere else - we just figured he did because we moved around anyway. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Let me tell you, those trips were just wearing on us ... all of us! &amp;nbsp;I guess we played all the "car games" that other travelers did. &amp;nbsp;You know, "Are We There Yet?", "Don't Touch Me" and &amp;nbsp;"Can We Stop? &amp;nbsp;I Need To Pee!". &amp;nbsp;We never did very well playing "Let's See Who Can Stay Quiet the Longest" - mom's favorite. We read, colored, picked on one another, napped for very short bits of time and Marcia would play piano on the arm rest (if she got lucky enough to sit next to the window).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;On occasion, we provided entertainment to other travelers. &amp;nbsp;Since there were four of us kids we had a station wagon - maybe mom and dad thought we would be more comfortable in it. &amp;nbsp;No, maybe they figured there would more room and we would not play "Don't Touch Me". &amp;nbsp;We would each be doing our own thing and for whatever reason we would all pile in the back end ... and start picking on one another. &amp;nbsp;Then one of us would whine and one would cry and mom would tell us to "behave or else". &amp;nbsp;Well, we all got along instantly on that challenge. &amp;nbsp;We would then all mash ourselves to the very back by the window and laugh and say (in that singsong taunt that kids do), "You can't get us. Mommy can't get us." &amp;nbsp;Was it something we said - she would fly from the front seat to the back seat - and in a giant leap from the back seat to the back of the wagon. &amp;nbsp;Hey wait, there was nowhere for us to go. &amp;nbsp;"Or else" won that game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Yes, people in the front seat of other cars laughed in amazement - children in back seats stared with horror in their eyes. &amp;nbsp;The memories of those family trips! &amp;nbsp;Oh, you ask if we learned from those trips? &amp;nbsp;Nah, we played the same games over and over again. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-6597912240458781527?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qfROBsc74-k8OdG40Ck2hBZYCpc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qfROBsc74-k8OdG40Ck2hBZYCpc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qfROBsc74-k8OdG40Ck2hBZYCpc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qfROBsc74-k8OdG40Ck2hBZYCpc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/m9NCjShKe10" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T08:48:24.259-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mYy9OKuMyPU/Tuau-6u-I7I/AAAAAAAAAJg/ru_u5NtIZ9c/s72-c/daveberry.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><georss:featurename xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss">5311 Pine View Dr, San Antonio, TX 78247, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss">29.59641835381419 -98.38269710540771</georss:point><georss:box xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss">29.59598685381419 -98.38331410540772 29.59684985381419 -98.38208010540771</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-12-days-of-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My 13 Days of  Christmas</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/9mz0AruaOnw/my-13-days-of-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2011 06:48:38 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-2992483976926719118</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N-JXFzREf0k/TuWqT-eYhLI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Ih75f6XBzVs/s1600/love+is.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="157" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N-JXFzREf0k/TuWqT-eYhLI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Ih75f6XBzVs/s200/love+is.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Growing up the four of
us, kids really liked it&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;when our
grandparents came to visit us for Christmas. That meant we did not have to pack
and take that long drive to either &lt;st1:state w:st="on"&gt;Louisiana&lt;/st1:state&gt;
or &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:state w:st="on"&gt;Arizona&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;
and we got to hang out with our friends over the break. Wait, we have to what?
Clean? I know I know ... cleaning is not bad. It should have been a breeze - we
had to clean with mom every Saturday, but when guests were coming in, we
started from top to bottom like it had never been cleaned before.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;Picture this - a game on Friday night ... ah,
sleep in Saturday morning ... what is that noise? Vrmm, vrmm, vrmm (that is a
vacuum noise), mom would be pushing that vacuum right up to the bedroom door. That
was the signal we had better get up ... and let the cleaning begin. My mom had
the most unique places to check to see if we dusted. &amp;nbsp;Yes, there was
always a test. We would leave the bedroom to start on the kitchen or den and we
would hear, "You didn't dust here." Wait ... (vrmm, vrmm) &lt;b&gt;W-H-A-T&lt;/b&gt;
(shaking our head, while pointing to our ears and then the vacuum) and we would
continue our "mock" cleaning routine. &amp;nbsp;I mean my mom is not
"no wire hangars", but she just completely burned us (kids) out as
far as cleaning (there are people who clean for a living). In some old letters I
have that she wrote when she first got married, she describes the hotel room
and ends her description with, "And they keep it clean, too".
&amp;nbsp;Okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;We would "start" cleaning for
Christmas company about three weekends out - well we just kept doing it over
and over, maybe we never got it right. &amp;nbsp;We could not plan to escape to do
anything until the cleaning was done (or until we begged, whichever came
first). &amp;nbsp;Oh, and we better not do anything to make her mad - she would get
us by dumping our drawers in the center of our bed ... obviously that needed to
be taken care of before going to bed (around the corner she would be going,
"Gotcha"). &amp;nbsp;She would "dust through" the house a couple
times during the week. &amp;nbsp;Sometimes she would call when we would get home
from school, "Debbie, would you run around the house with a dust
cloth"? &amp;nbsp;Oh, why did I answer the phone? &amp;nbsp;Well I am kind of a
literal type person (yes, really I am), so I would put on my running shoes,
grab the dust cloth, step outside and run around the house. &amp;nbsp;Done, check
that off my list. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I wonder if mom asked her parents or dad's
parents to dust through the house with her whenever they visited. &amp;nbsp;I
would have said, "Me, oh no thanks, I'm good"! &amp;nbsp;I guess each
household has their little rules. &amp;nbsp;My dad's mom whenever we arrived would
holler, "Don't sit on the bed", just as our hinnies were going to get
comfortable. Oh, I love Christmas memories. &amp;nbsp;Cleaning, not so much!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-2992483976926719118?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dYHF5ammxesi1YelHxHA6yKVkpA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dYHF5ammxesi1YelHxHA6yKVkpA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dYHF5ammxesi1YelHxHA6yKVkpA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dYHF5ammxesi1YelHxHA6yKVkpA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/9mz0AruaOnw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T08:48:38.155-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N-JXFzREf0k/TuWqT-eYhLI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Ih75f6XBzVs/s72-c/love+is.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-13-days-of-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My 16 Days of Christmas</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/m60pv3Amcv0/my-16-days-of-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2011 06:48:47 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-8389704705070999783</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z49HEMM5u2c/TuEppD1kWwI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/aZtXndtELBU/s1600/what+is.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="157" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z49HEMM5u2c/TuEppD1kWwI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/aZtXndtELBU/s200/what+is.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;One of dad's assignments was Brize Norton Royal Air Force Base, so we lived in &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region w:st="on"&gt;England&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;
for about 18 months. &amp;nbsp;It was a time when there seemed to be an abundance
of British bands taking the world by storm (The Beatles, Freddy and the
Dreamers, The Dave Clark 5 - to name a few). &amp;nbsp;Men were growing their hair
long and women were wearing their skirts short. &amp;nbsp;Daddy worked part-time at
the NCO club and on weekends, there were dance contests. &amp;nbsp;We twisted and
then we mashed potatoed. &amp;nbsp;Mom learned to knit (even in the dark of
theaters) and once a week we got to shop on a little truck - Mr. Giles.
&amp;nbsp;The milkman delivered milk every morning (outside temperature,
unpasteurized, with cream on top - awful) and we had to take a teaspoon of cod
liver oil every night before bed (with a candy chaser).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It
was in &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region w:st="on"&gt;England&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;
we learned how to appreciate chocolate - well maybe not appreciate, but we sure
liked it. &amp;nbsp;We always headed straight for the&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Cadbury's&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Buttons - they were the best! &amp;nbsp;At
Christmas (we happened to be there for 2)&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Cadbury's&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;put
out a special sampler tray and Santa would put one in each of our stockings.
&amp;nbsp;We would run out to the living room (once we heard the Christmas music
and smelled the coffee) and glance around, taking it all in. We would see those
chocolates in our stockings and would run right past the tree with all those
things we wanted because we had been "nice" all year and grab our
stockings and break out the chocolate! &amp;nbsp;Man, that chocolate was good!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I
have to tell you about the Christmas tree! &amp;nbsp;Base housing did not allow
fresh trees in the family units, so our tree was spectacular and shiny. &amp;nbsp;We
pulled each "branch" out of its sleeve, shook it so it filled out and
inserted it in the little hole in the "trunk". &amp;nbsp;We plugged in
the light that had a colored shield over the bulb that turned non-stop,
directed it on the tree and it turned every magnificent color of the rainbow.
&amp;nbsp;We had an aluminum tree. &amp;nbsp;Oh, those chocolates were so good!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-8389704705070999783?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/n5pYjinVNr1Y6CNZz7GjGq0G1wY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/n5pYjinVNr1Y6CNZz7GjGq0G1wY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/n5pYjinVNr1Y6CNZz7GjGq0G1wY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/n5pYjinVNr1Y6CNZz7GjGq0G1wY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/m60pv3Amcv0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T08:48:47.792-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z49HEMM5u2c/TuEppD1kWwI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/aZtXndtELBU/s72-c/what+is.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-16-days-of-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My 17 Days of Christmas</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/h3QoMky1-Zs/my-17-days-of-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2011 06:49:55 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-7648363411147406389</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-omfU3lmHtTs/Tt-IBDy-nBI/AAAAAAAAAJI/EE7SCQSiCbw/s1600/lovecamedown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="166" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-omfU3lmHtTs/Tt-IBDy-nBI/AAAAAAAAAJI/EE7SCQSiCbw/s200/lovecamedown.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I find it funny that many of the Christmas stories, poems and songs refer to "naughty or nice." &amp;nbsp;Do you think children have this running in the back of their mind during the year? &amp;nbsp;When, yesterday? &amp;nbsp;This week? &amp;nbsp;Whose rules of naughty or nice?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When we lived in &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;Bossier City&lt;/st1:city&gt;, &lt;st1:state w:st="on"&gt;Louisiana&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;,
our house was probably 900 sq. ft. with three bedrooms and one bathroom.
&amp;nbsp;We were probably six, five and three (oh and Mike was maybe one).
&amp;nbsp;We girls lived to torment our little brother, because we could. &amp;nbsp;We
would pick and pick and we knew about when mom would say, "You just wait
'til daddy gets home". &amp;nbsp;We heard that a lot. &amp;nbsp;Well, one day the
three of us were splish, splashing in the tub when daddy came in. &amp;nbsp;He
probably asked if we had been good and when we said "yes, sir", he
probably said he was told otherwise. &amp;nbsp;Then, no, oh my goodness, he spanked
Cindy and she ran sobbing to the bedroom, wet and covering her little bum with
her hands. &amp;nbsp;What, me too? &amp;nbsp;He spanked me and I, too, was sobbing.
&amp;nbsp;I had to stay as Marcia was on the toilet, blocking me in and besides, I
had to protect her. &amp;nbsp;(What?) &amp;nbsp;Daddy asked her to stand up and tried
lifting her up. &amp;nbsp;Wait, was she permanently attached to the toilet now?
&amp;nbsp;Her little hands gripped so tight on the toilet seat that when daddy
tried to lift her, he lifted the seat as well. &amp;nbsp;Once, twice, three times -
no way did she let go. &amp;nbsp;Thinking about it, I feel certain that daddy
walked away laughing about that! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Okay, Christmas that year we saw Santa in the mall, gave him our "Dear Santa" letters and he asked us if we were naughty or nice. &amp;nbsp;Now do you think we thought back and said, "Well, Santa, actually ..." &amp;nbsp;No! &amp;nbsp;We were probably very nice and very good - all week because we knew we would be going to see Santa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-7648363411147406389?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Zh25crRi3bqgmvqbBd2HWPkf4XU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Zh25crRi3bqgmvqbBd2HWPkf4XU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Zh25crRi3bqgmvqbBd2HWPkf4XU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Zh25crRi3bqgmvqbBd2HWPkf4XU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/h3QoMky1-Zs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T08:49:55.744-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-omfU3lmHtTs/Tt-IBDy-nBI/AAAAAAAAAJI/EE7SCQSiCbw/s72-c/lovecamedown.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-17-days-of-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My 18 Days of Christmas</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/Yzn0wqeF5l4/my-18-days-of-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2011 06:50:08 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-3021685583426294944</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7o8BwWNW9YI/Tt45BConIKI/AAAAAAAAAJA/FtwvWSNOv60/s1600/alittlechild.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="158" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7o8BwWNW9YI/Tt45BConIKI/AAAAAAAAAJA/FtwvWSNOv60/s200/alittlechild.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;One year all Marcia wanted for Christmas was a &lt;i&gt;Black Beauty &lt;/i&gt;rocking horse. &amp;nbsp;You can imagine how excited she was when Black Beauty was under the tree Christmas morning. &amp;nbsp;Marcia would ride her horse every day. hair whipping around her face from the graceful speed of her trusting horse. &amp;nbsp;The two were best friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I mentioned my dad was Air Force and generally his tour of duty was four years at each base. &amp;nbsp;The best I remember, moving was always a tedious process as there was a limited tonnage per family that could be moved between destinations. &amp;nbsp; When it was time to start packing mom, the neat-nick that she was, always seemed to start with the toys. &amp;nbsp;She would ask each of us, "Do you play with this?" &amp;nbsp;Literally? &amp;nbsp;On occasion? &amp;nbsp;Right now? &amp;nbsp;If we did not have a death grip on something or if it was too big to pack, mom gave our beloved toys to some of the neighbors. &amp;nbsp;I know each of us had the same thought, "Why can't they buy their own toys?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Can you imagine the horror Marcia felt when one day, before moving away, she saw her &lt;i&gt;Black Beauty&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;with no head?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-3021685583426294944?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94UquzkpJwaeg1NgNS3YqhQrDlM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94UquzkpJwaeg1NgNS3YqhQrDlM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94UquzkpJwaeg1NgNS3YqhQrDlM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94UquzkpJwaeg1NgNS3YqhQrDlM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/Yzn0wqeF5l4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T08:50:08.410-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7o8BwWNW9YI/Tt45BConIKI/AAAAAAAAAJA/FtwvWSNOv60/s72-c/alittlechild.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-18-days-of-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My 19 Days of Christmas</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/djRgIBRyW-Y/my-19-days-of-christmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2011 06:52:11 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-2284331861948759241</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--lP0aQLoFSU/Tt2SG-YXw-I/AAAAAAAAAI4/ZbaadjhTthw/s1600/bobhope" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--lP0aQLoFSU/Tt2SG-YXw-I/AAAAAAAAAI4/ZbaadjhTthw/s200/bobhope" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Growing up Christmas morning did not go by without its own set of rules. &amp;nbsp;We (kids) woke up early and pranced around in anticipation eager to get out to the tree. &amp;nbsp;We could not go out to the tree until we could smell the aroma of coffee and hear Christmas music. &amp;nbsp;Only then could pandemonium take over. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now, I often wonder ... in a house of three girls and one boy ... did anyone else have a dad who would come around the corner with a bra strapped to his head, instead of a Santa cap? &amp;nbsp;Just wondering!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-2284331861948759241?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oKn1YzNiVeOKmARYPNC-I0tsx9M/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oKn1YzNiVeOKmARYPNC-I0tsx9M/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oKn1YzNiVeOKmARYPNC-I0tsx9M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oKn1YzNiVeOKmARYPNC-I0tsx9M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/djRgIBRyW-Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T08:52:11.810-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--lP0aQLoFSU/Tt2SG-YXw-I/AAAAAAAAAI4/ZbaadjhTthw/s72-c/bobhope" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-19-days-of-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My 20 Days of Chrstmas</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/bg_f3FyPmjI/my-20-days-of-chrstmas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2011 06:51:42 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-8484421550295791566</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzxqMETIZYA/Tt2QMbenyfI/AAAAAAAAAIw/P37PtszIqrk/s1600/gifts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="157" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzxqMETIZYA/Tt2QMbenyfI/AAAAAAAAAIw/P37PtszIqrk/s200/gifts.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We moved to Texas in December and our house was still being built so we stayed with the Weikerts, friends of my parents. &amp;nbsp;Did I mention there were six Hidalgos?&amp;nbsp; Oh, there were four Weikerts. &amp;nbsp;Oh yeah, and 2 dogs. &amp;nbsp;Plus, their house was 3 bedroom, 2 bath. &amp;nbsp;Now would probably be a god time to tell you daddy and Clyde were Air Force and this was prior to automatic deposit of payroll. &amp;nbsp;Their checks were mailed to them - somewhere. &amp;nbsp;So, there we were 10 hungry people. &amp;nbsp;My mom and Faye, being the frugal AF wives that they were, cleaned out pockets, the floor board of cars. the couch and chairs and any piggy banks that made noise when shaken and shopped foods that stretched a budget - hamburger meat and pinto beans. &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Did I mention there were 10 people and 2 dogs in a 3/2 house?&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Eating pinto beans?&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It was our first Christmas in Texas. &amp;nbsp;We were already scrimping to put food on the table and mom and dad wanted us to "do our letter to Santa". &amp;nbsp;Well, it was a lean Christmas, but there was something learned that we have kept with us. &amp;nbsp;My brother only wanted a b-b gun. &amp;nbsp;When he found it under the tree from "Santa" he was thrilled. &amp;nbsp;Then daddy took the gun from him and told him he had to read the instructions on how to use (there would be a test) before he could have the gun back. &amp;nbsp;He and Clyde went out back and played with it while my brother diligently read (he did not like reading or tests). &amp;nbsp;Our lesson: &amp;nbsp;Always read instructions before playing (using) with something new. &amp;nbsp;Yeah, yeah - right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-8484421550295791566?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MT2h3BuIZx2UvKoGCkhY25YJyZ0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MT2h3BuIZx2UvKoGCkhY25YJyZ0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MT2h3BuIZx2UvKoGCkhY25YJyZ0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MT2h3BuIZx2UvKoGCkhY25YJyZ0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/bg_f3FyPmjI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T08:51:42.900-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzxqMETIZYA/Tt2QMbenyfI/AAAAAAAAAIw/P37PtszIqrk/s72-c/gifts.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-20-days-of-chrstmas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Forever!</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/znx6KWzmMPE/forever.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Thu, 11 Aug 2011 20:32:59 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-3757263362171798242</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="224" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span closure_uid_nnjaxh="118" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;﻿﻿My parents celebrated their 60th Anniversary on July 3. That got me wondering how common a milestone like that was. Since then I have been researching, trying to come up with some viable statistics (yes, it has been four weeks … okay, now it has been five weeks … I get side tracked every now and then … so). The best I could find was from the 2001 Census Bureau (SIPP) stating the then currently married women reaching their 50th anniversary, of 51,065 surveyed, 3,160 or 6.2% were still married (not counting widows).&amp;nbsp; &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;Seriously&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Wingdings 2&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Verdana; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Verdana; mso-symbol-font-family: &amp;quot;Wingdings 2&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: &amp;quot;Wingdings 2&amp;quot;;"&gt;_&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="226"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KfpSQLCv9mQ/TkQOAjdnBzI/AAAAAAAAAH4/nkmowfSeyTk/s1600/nms1951pa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="215" naa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KfpSQLCv9mQ/TkQOAjdnBzI/AAAAAAAAAH4/nkmowfSeyTk/s320/nms1951pa.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Nadine Shaffer - 1951&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="226" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span closure_uid_r3n65b="230" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;My parents met on their first date, yes a blind date, on April 1, 1951. Larry was late. Nadine did not want to go out … should he show up. My grandmother apparently thought that would not be appropriate behavior and told Nadine she would go out. Three months later on July 3, they married at 9:00 a.m. They had an evening reception (I had to ask my mom what they did all day, hmm).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B8QlCSLGQsU/TkQN7D9lhQI/AAAAAAAAAHw/mGhT8_Onb6A/s1600/lch1951pa" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" naa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B8QlCSLGQsU/TkQN7D9lhQI/AAAAAAAAAHw/mGhT8_Onb6A/s320/lch1951pa" width="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Larry Hidalgo - 1951&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="226" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span closure_uid_r3n65b="260" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;﻿Some history, my dad was USAF and in Tempe at ASU on TDY (learning computers). My mom was a nursing student at ASU. When his TDY was up, he was going home (Donaldsonville, LA) before reporting to his next duty at the American Embassy in Athens, Greece. Therefore, whirlwind romance and wedding in three months. My mom had never been away from home. She married and daddy whisked her away. She first met daddy’s family in Louisiana – Cajuns – and ate things she never dreamed: rice (that was not in rice pudding), gumbo, oysters, grits and many other foods. Strange foods plus the in-laws – she had no stomach for that, but they liked that Yankee girl. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="226" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7uyrmYf8Aqw/TkQN90gUEuI/AAAAAAAAAH0/fctZFM-f8Mg/s1600/lnh1951gr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="298" naa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7uyrmYf8Aqw/TkQN90gUEuI/AAAAAAAAAH0/fctZFM-f8Mg/s320/lnh1951gr.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nadine and Larry Hidalgo - 1951&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
After meeting her new family, Nadine took her first airplane ride … Louisiana to New York to Greece. She only thought daddy’s family ate strange food. They had a Greek housekeeper and she cooked her specialty, Greek food. All those “firsts” and now married for 60 years. Wow! &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span closure_uid_nnjaxh="82" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Their secret, I can only guess, part of it is because they are best friends. They were away from their families so much, they were all they had. They were young, they had kids, they grew up with their kids, they were young when the kids were out of school and they had fun! I have never asked them. I just enjoy seeing it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Some other firsts in July 1951:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="126" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span closure_uid_r3n65b="121" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;#1 Rosemary Clooney - Come On-a My House&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="126" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;July 14, 1951 1st color telecast of a sporting event (CBS-horse race)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="126" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Citation becomes 1st horse to win $1,000,000 in races&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="126" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span closure_uid_nnjaxh="148" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Pres. Truman asked Congress to formally end state of war with Germany&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="126" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Ty Cobb testifies before the Emanuel Celler committee, denying that the reserve &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;clause makes peons of baseball players&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_r3n65b="126" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Walt Disney's "Alice In Wonderland" released&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfC_lU5xOYY/TkRsJV9t5JI/AAAAAAAAAH8/iZTOEjxrsY0/s1600/pinup+header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="197" naa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfC_lU5xOYY/TkRsJV9t5JI/AAAAAAAAAH8/iZTOEjxrsY0/s320/pinup+header.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-3757263362171798242?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XfSmQUpRa2moqUQ_qUum0x2lRAo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XfSmQUpRa2moqUQ_qUum0x2lRAo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XfSmQUpRa2moqUQ_qUum0x2lRAo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XfSmQUpRa2moqUQ_qUum0x2lRAo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/znx6KWzmMPE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-11T22:32:59.120-05:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KfpSQLCv9mQ/TkQOAjdnBzI/AAAAAAAAAH4/nkmowfSeyTk/s72-c/nms1951pa.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/08/forever.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Adreann's Royal Day</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/TFYbdrBD-60/adreanns-royal-day.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Thu, 16 Jun 2011 16:57:45 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-6780558567831925310</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So, when I posted my Royal Weddings back in April Adreann wondered why she was not included.&amp;nbsp; I told Adreann, "Hey, you are not even married!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;June 11 my niece, Adreann, married her best friend, Darren.&amp;nbsp; She became a "Peters".&amp;nbsp; I knew she would marry him the very first time I met him ... they were soul mates to the very definition of the word! (soul mate:&amp;nbsp; ~ noun&amp;nbsp; ~ a person with whom one has a strong affinity).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Here she is:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ukX2OqXm0pg/TfqXml0DbbI/AAAAAAAAAHg/c0IDcfYTwMY/s1600/a+blingee.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ukX2OqXm0pg/TfqXml0DbbI/AAAAAAAAAHg/c0IDcfYTwMY/s320/a+blingee.gif" t8="true" width="156" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div align="justify"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div align="justify"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Another Royal Wedding come and gone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-6780558567831925310?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Kd1RJgJ8bT6BIKOpIGklDuJh7Vs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Kd1RJgJ8bT6BIKOpIGklDuJh7Vs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Kd1RJgJ8bT6BIKOpIGklDuJh7Vs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Kd1RJgJ8bT6BIKOpIGklDuJh7Vs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/TFYbdrBD-60" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-16T18:57:45.795-05:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ukX2OqXm0pg/TfqXml0DbbI/AAAAAAAAAHg/c0IDcfYTwMY/s72-c/a+blingee.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/06/adreanns-royal-day.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Family Foto Friday on Saturday</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/vtENBVwt5MQ/family-foto-friday-on-saturday.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Sat, 04 Jun 2011 18:21:30 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-7116830857924414824</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Lately on TV they have been showing clips of people thanking those serving overseas, particularly Afghanistan, for keeping us safe.&amp;nbsp; I thought I would take a minute and thank my grandfather, Hypolite A. Hidalgo.&amp;nbsp; He served in France at Chateau Thierry (c. 1917-1918) during WWI.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CXpQ0co-sMU/TerY_xW6kdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/T4TUkII2NlE/s1600/hah1917wwi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CXpQ0co-sMU/TerY_xW6kdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/T4TUkII2NlE/s320/hah1917wwi.jpg" t8="true" width="219" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Hypolite A. Hidalgo - 1917&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w9hESkgEZ0c/TerZDBz_EoI/AAAAAAAAAHc/YffYVUFJiM4/s1600/hah1930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w9hESkgEZ0c/TerZDBz_EoI/AAAAAAAAAHc/YffYVUFJiM4/s320/hah1930.jpg" t8="true" width="196" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Hypolite as a civilian in the 1930s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Thank you Papa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-7116830857924414824?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vggkgpV40TE-88cuwh64nMb5IYU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vggkgpV40TE-88cuwh64nMb5IYU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vggkgpV40TE-88cuwh64nMb5IYU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vggkgpV40TE-88cuwh64nMb5IYU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/vtENBVwt5MQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-04T20:21:30.680-05:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CXpQ0co-sMU/TerY_xW6kdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/T4TUkII2NlE/s72-c/hah1917wwi.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/06/family-foto-friday-on-saturday.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Forgot Family Foto Friday</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/9KXD7Prdka4/forgot-family-foto-friday.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Sun, 01 May 2011 01:15:43 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-3069521831710830700</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I got so caught up in The Royal Wedding ... which then brought back memories&amp;nbsp;of visiting all those historical sites.&amp;nbsp; We, my family, lived in England in the early 1960's ... my sisters and I would go touring England every weekend with the AYA (American Youth Association) from the base.&amp;nbsp; I loved the trips to London ... Buckingham Palace, the Crown Jewels, Changing of the Guard, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, Piccadilly Square.&amp;nbsp; It was those trips I attribute to my love of literature and history ... my majors in college.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ahh, memories.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Back to The Royal Wedding ... my photos this week (a day late) are weddings in my family.&amp;nbsp; No, none of me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;﻿&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I4wIjdqBj6c/Tbz4lZBK-II/AAAAAAAAAGM/w2IaYTf1Eko/s1600/713568537_315497.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="371" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I4wIjdqBj6c/Tbz4lZBK-II/AAAAAAAAAGM/w2IaYTf1Eko/s400/713568537_315497.gif" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Nadine and Larry Hidalgo - July 3, 1951&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMQ8C_FAL8A/Tbz6H_fChxI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/cMyUpSHyMRs/s1600/713567175_259490.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMQ8C_FAL8A/Tbz6H_fChxI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/cMyUpSHyMRs/s400/713567175_259490.gif" width="312" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Larry, Cindy and Jim Holmgreen, Nadine - April 7, 1973&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;﻿&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vC_OZb7wwl0/Tbz6KqJJiLI/AAAAAAAAAGU/3ZG20EayJoc/s1600/713567956_65350.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vC_OZb7wwl0/Tbz6KqJJiLI/AAAAAAAAAGU/3ZG20EayJoc/s400/713567956_65350.gif" width="270" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;J and Sue Holmgreen - October 17, 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;﻿﻿&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I wish I had pictures of my grandparents' weddings, but in all the photos I have there are not any wedding pics.&amp;nbsp; So, these are my Royal Wedding pictures!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-3069521831710830700?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lIrC_imahc589c9Sy5g-uniWxFc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lIrC_imahc589c9Sy5g-uniWxFc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lIrC_imahc589c9Sy5g-uniWxFc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lIrC_imahc589c9Sy5g-uniWxFc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/9KXD7Prdka4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-01T03:15:43.175-05:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I4wIjdqBj6c/Tbz4lZBK-II/AAAAAAAAAGM/w2IaYTf1Eko/s72-c/713568537_315497.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/04/forgot-family-foto-friday.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Family Foto Friday</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/uW_1-waLHgg/family-foto-friday.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Sat, 30 Apr 2011 23:31:12 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-6989114165172752113</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Every Friday I am going to share my family with you ... photos from the past from my dad's family and my mom's family.&amp;nbsp; My dad is of Canary Island/ French descent and my mom is of English/Scotch/Irish descent - I am a blend of that - maybe that accounts for my squirrel/shiny things disorder, hmm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;﻿﻿ &lt;br /&gt;
﻿ &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N-2zrcQ2ioo/TbG90Q7LgdI/AAAAAAAAAFk/vIglGEMTYOE/s1600/hah1900a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" i8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N-2zrcQ2ioo/TbG90Q7LgdI/AAAAAAAAAFk/vIglGEMTYOE/s320/hah1900a.jpg" width="222" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Standing L to R:&amp;nbsp; Caliste, Arnold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Sitting L to R:&amp;nbsp; Lucy, Hypolite*, Cecile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;﻿ &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;﻿&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Taken 1900 at Harding Studio in Franklin, Louisiana, this is my grandfather, Hypolite (Papa Hipp) Hidalgo&amp;nbsp;with his older siblings.&amp;nbsp; When I was given this picture and told Papa was the one sitting in the middle I was sure someone was mistaken because that was a little girl.&amp;nbsp; After looking at other pictures from that same time period&amp;nbsp;I see all little boys wore little dresses at that age.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Papa was&amp;nbsp;two years old in this photo and was the fifth of ten children.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Papa was from a "sugar" family and some of my earliest memories are visiting my grandparents at their house at the McCall Sugar Refinery where Papa was the Engineer.&amp;nbsp; McCall's would do the first process of the cane and then ship it to the refineries who processed for sugar companies like Domino's, Imperial&amp;nbsp;and C&amp;nbsp;and H.&amp;nbsp; McCall's was closed in the 1990's when the sugar industry in Louisiana consolidated sugar processing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vH1Irhn8L6A/TbHERyHzcWI/AAAAAAAAAFo/cnI9Ddi3zvQ/s1600/sugar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="222" i8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vH1Irhn8L6A/TbHERyHzcWI/AAAAAAAAAFo/cnI9Ddi3zvQ/s320/sugar.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;﻿&lt;br /&gt;
﻿ &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I16mhAnzwTI/TbHU-6a5bII/AAAAAAAAAF4/YzU2OYf2IyU/s1600/Cane+Mission+1908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="251" i8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I16mhAnzwTI/TbHU-6a5bII/AAAAAAAAAF4/YzU2OYf2IyU/s320/Cane+Mission+1908.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Cane Farm - Mission, TX - 1908&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Standing L to R&lt;/strong&gt;:&amp;nbsp; Hypolite (Papa), Lionel,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Cecile, Lucy, Arnold and 2 workers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sitting L to R&lt;/strong&gt;: Louise and Arthur (Pa Red)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L to R in front of Louise&amp;nbsp;and Arthur&lt;/strong&gt;:&amp;nbsp; Florence,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Albert (twin), Paul and&amp;nbsp;Allen (twin)&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pfz5-fdcJ3A/TbKNasjI5rI/AAAAAAAAAF8/rDEcc_Vtk5w/s1600/Cane+1944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="232" i8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pfz5-fdcJ3A/TbKNasjI5rI/AAAAAAAAAF8/rDEcc_Vtk5w/s320/Cane+1944.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Columbia Plantation, Louisiana - 1944&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;L to R:&amp;nbsp; Hypolite (Papa), Arthur (Pa Red)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(refurbished photo)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HGiao-t_Qmc/TbHSVaQY1ZI/AAAAAAAAAF0/5JBS7P8jsvQ/s1600/lch1946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" i8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HGiao-t_Qmc/TbHSVaQY1ZI/AAAAAAAAAF0/5JBS7P8jsvQ/s320/lch1946.jpg" width="216" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Larry (Daddy) 1946&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;﻿ &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;In 1908 "sugar" took the Hidalgo family to Mission, Texas ... "sugar" took them back to south Louisiana about a year later.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Look closely at&amp;nbsp;the workers in the picture - the man on the&amp;nbsp;right with his arms crossed - I wonder if that could be a relative&amp;nbsp;of Lyle Lovett.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Hope everybody has as very Hoppy Easter!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-6989114165172752113?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ArwdQmHc99lpBwgCAGCWXFdF-Mk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ArwdQmHc99lpBwgCAGCWXFdF-Mk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ArwdQmHc99lpBwgCAGCWXFdF-Mk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ArwdQmHc99lpBwgCAGCWXFdF-Mk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/uW_1-waLHgg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-01T01:31:12.951-05:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N-2zrcQ2ioo/TbG90Q7LgdI/AAAAAAAAAFk/vIglGEMTYOE/s72-c/hah1900a.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/04/family-foto-friday.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Used To"</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/iXYJU8Y41Hs/used-to.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 20 Apr 2011 07:07:09 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-4664290467323792486</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UGL7FWJo7hc/TZhYqKof6VI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YJO6pDzzors/s1600/debdancing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="193" r6="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UGL7FWJo7hc/TZhYqKof6VI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YJO6pDzzors/s200/debdancing.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I know I have not posted anything in a while, but I honestly feel I did not have anything interesting to&amp;nbsp;share that was post worthy.&amp;nbsp; Something happened on April 1 and it was not an April Fool's joke.&amp;nbsp; There were two&amp;nbsp;Facebook&amp;nbsp;posts that really hit home to my now limited independence.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The first post - goes back to 1972 and Kilgore College - I was dancing ... something that I loved to do!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The second was just a feed - friends exchanging posts - work friends&amp;nbsp;from over 10 years ago that do not work together now, but stay in contact.&amp;nbsp; They met for drinks to catch up.&amp;nbsp; No big deal, but I would normally have been able to jump in my car to join them (well, if they asked).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I cried.&amp;nbsp; Not because I felt sorry for myself,&amp;nbsp;I cried for all the things I used to do.&amp;nbsp; I cried for all those I used to help when I had "good ideas" or shopped on-line for spring planting, bird feeders or new desks.&amp;nbsp; I cried because Marcia has to help me&amp;nbsp;do the most basic of tasks&amp;nbsp;everyday.&amp;nbsp; I cried because my mom has to help me get in and out of the car just so we can go shopping ... because I want to ... and I should be helping mom and dad.&amp;nbsp; I cried and wondered why this happened to me.&amp;nbsp; I cried ... and then I was done.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;UPS delivers more packages and I smile!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-4664290467323792486?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/s7KZOpXo5J9anseRAmp2s0C0Grk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/s7KZOpXo5J9anseRAmp2s0C0Grk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/s7KZOpXo5J9anseRAmp2s0C0Grk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/s7KZOpXo5J9anseRAmp2s0C0Grk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/iXYJU8Y41Hs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-20T09:07:09.228-05:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UGL7FWJo7hc/TZhYqKof6VI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YJO6pDzzors/s72-c/debdancing.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/04/used-to.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>My Tropical Vacation In Occupied South Texas (Alice, Texas)</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/U61FKsAaMLI/my-tropical-vacation-in-occupied-south.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Fri, 07 Jan 2011 15:51:10 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-688866234686811882</guid><description>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I have been on a tropical vacation with my sister, Cindy, since last Sunday.&amp;nbsp; Many of you may wonder why I needed a tropical vacation ... oh, for a change of scenery or to give my other sister, Marcia, a break!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I have been reading, napping, looking at different ways to make my blog more interesting so there would be more readers/followers, napping,&amp;nbsp; looking at my on-line stores, napping, playing games on my computer, napping, watching TV and napping.&amp;nbsp; Cindy has been busy with her at-home-business, Sew-Sew Cindy (I just made that up}, working hard to fund Adreann's wedding in June.&amp;nbsp; You can see we have been pretty busy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;We Treat Ourselves Well!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TSeiXIVng0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/rF4-bNIA1ao/s1600/bonbon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="149" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TSeiXIVng0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/rF4-bNIA1ao/s200/bonbon.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;What else have we been doing?&amp;nbsp; Silly question!&amp;nbsp; We have been sitting around ... eating bon-bons!&amp;nbsp; Darren, please do not be jealous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;What Else, You Say?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TSejBqdmizI/AAAAAAAAAEw/72armD2wWNc/s1600/Deep-Eddy-Bottle_Front2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TSejBqdmizI/AAAAAAAAAEw/72armD2wWNc/s200/Deep-Eddy-Bottle_Front2.jpg" width="137" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Every evening we enjoy our Iced Tea &amp;amp; Raspberry Lemonade!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It sounds like a tough life, but somebody has to do it!&amp;nbsp; I just wanted to let everyone know what I am up to!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-688866234686811882?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2x_MlnHDUjOiVC3ODWHxihu1l8E/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2x_MlnHDUjOiVC3ODWHxihu1l8E/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2x_MlnHDUjOiVC3ODWHxihu1l8E/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2x_MlnHDUjOiVC3ODWHxihu1l8E/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/U61FKsAaMLI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-07T17:51:10.667-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TSeiXIVng0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/rF4-bNIA1ao/s72-c/bonbon.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-tropical-vacation-in-occupied-south.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Did You Think I Was Done?  I Had Only Just Begun ...</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/6aK7kubwTwQ/did-you-think-i-was-done-i-had-only.html</link><category>Shetler Wade Jewelers</category><category>power naps</category><category>insights</category><category>empathy</category><category>humor</category><category>Louis Vitton</category><category>entertainment</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Sun, 02 Jan 2011 20:22:42 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-5108320402080551512</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TRvjOVkACEI/AAAAAAAAAEY/RaELZwPYSxo/s1600/collage2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="284" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TRvjOVkACEI/AAAAAAAAAEY/RaELZwPYSxo/s320/collage2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Grrrr More Power Naps ...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Where do I begin?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; We (family) were&amp;nbsp;at a &lt;strike&gt;dear friend&lt;/strike&gt; - no, a family member's funeral and during the eulogy I apparently needed to read something on my&amp;nbsp;eyelids.&amp;nbsp; I felt a hand pat my shoulder and I jumped (like anyone would if&amp;nbsp;startled).&amp;nbsp; My nephew (the hand) whispered he was sorry and he did not mean to startle me ... I turned to see if anyone noticed and saw my niece&amp;nbsp;grinning and Darren (her fiance) was doing that quiet laugh (that laugh you do in church because you should not be&amp;nbsp;laughing anyway) and whispered, "That's awesome?"&amp;nbsp; The entertainment I provide ... free of charge and certainly unscripted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Enough ... I can do power naps and not tell every one, if they are normal naps; however ... I was eating potato chips and the next thing I remember was being on the floor with my face mashed on the carpet and somebody &lt;strong&gt;banging&lt;/strong&gt; on the front door.&amp;nbsp; I figured out where I was, got back on my chair and answered the door.&amp;nbsp; The UPS delivery guy proceeded to tell me he saw me fall out of my chair and he was concerned&amp;nbsp; and wanted to make sure I did not hurt myself.&amp;nbsp; I told him I was fine, received my package and thanked him.&amp;nbsp; I only hope he did not have his phone on video mode ... I feel sure he told his UPS buddies he had the story of the day.&amp;nbsp; So, if anybody sees me on UTube ... oh yeah, laugh!&amp;nbsp; If only earlier in the day mom had not come in and found me with my head on the desk (I was waiting on the computer to catch up with me and my thoughts!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;If that was not enough, Wednesday and Thursday the week of Christmas I found myself fighting to stay focused (my speak for not zoning out) and found out that Marcia would be talking to me ... struggle as I may to keep my eyes open,&amp;nbsp;I was not engaged in her conversation.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Since it did not appear it would get any better she said it was time to go to bed ... she changed and came out to the living room ... to find me in racing mode&amp;nbsp;to get where I was supposed to be because I took a nap getting there!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I guess it is scary when I have scissors in&amp;nbsp;my hand to open packages!&amp;nbsp; Will I open the packages or ... Zzz?&amp;nbsp; These naps are going to get me in trouble yet!&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It was like Christmas everyday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Because Marcia and I shopped on-line for Christmas presents this year (on-line ... my specialty!) it has been like Christmas at least twice weekly.&amp;nbsp; Poor delivery guys ... they have to be quick thinkers!&amp;nbsp; If our dog, Maddy, is in the house when they drive up (she hears them at the corner) she barks and attacks the window as if she would tear their limbs off.&amp;nbsp; Delivery guy asks ... do I drop and run?&amp;nbsp; On the other hand, if it is quiet when they approach the door ... they ask themselves ... do I ring the bell and keep my phone ready in case I can get a funny video of the lady falling out of her chair!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TRxewN61lNI/AAAAAAAAAEc/OMdzX2_Id2w/s1600/LV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TRxewN61lNI/AAAAAAAAAEc/OMdzX2_Id2w/s200/LV.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;More Favorite Things ...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Years ago Marcia and I vacationed in St. Thomas and learned about tax-free ports and&amp;nbsp;Louis Vitton.&amp;nbsp; We purchased our first LVs on that trip and that has remained our purse of choice since.&amp;nbsp; We rationalized then that this was a good buy because we did not, and never had, bought or changed purses to match our shoes or the season.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We did not buy several purses a year ... we could justify spending more on the LV bag of our choice and it would last longer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;That is our story ... and we continue to stick to it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TH3XLEa1qGI/AAAAAAAAABQ/5sR0USb1lUM/s1600/FooterLogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="93" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TH3XLEa1qGI/AAAAAAAAABQ/5sR0USb1lUM/s200/FooterLogo.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;More Sussies ...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;While it is quite possible to cast&amp;nbsp;me as an impulse buyer, Marcia and I&amp;nbsp;do not always just see something and buy it!&amp;nbsp; When the price of gold rose, we went through our jewelry and pulled out the pieces we no longer wore and&amp;nbsp;the pieces that were broken or were missing a match ... not once, but twice.&amp;nbsp; We took our "lode" to our friendly, favorite jeweler&amp;nbsp;and received an in-store credit (oh, darn) and, well you know the happy ending to that story!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Insights I&amp;nbsp;Am Grateful For&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;There are times when I am home alone and I think too hard and wonder, why me ... and I cry because nobody can see me ... I need my eyes to leak.&amp;nbsp; I want so badly to walk&amp;nbsp;in my really hot shoes that rock or wash the dishes or file papers without dropping some of the paper.&amp;nbsp; I get so frustrated, it wears me out.&amp;nbsp; Then I remember the things that I have and the things I am grateful for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I cannot stand or walk and require a motorized chair to get around.&amp;nbsp; My hands have atrophied so I have no use of my fingers ... I cannot blow dry or brush my hair or write without using both hands (for guidance).&amp;nbsp; I require others to do most everything or get me to a point so I can do some of the task.&amp;nbsp; While it was humbling at the onset, I still have my dignity.&amp;nbsp; No one can take that away.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;I am grateful that I understand I am not my body or my thoughts ... I am the space, the shell, from which all is created.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I sit all day and some of my physical form looks squaty and odd.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;I am grateful for my circumstance that counteracts my vanity.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;(Well, somewhat.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Because&amp;nbsp;of the kinship I share with the friends that choose to help me, I cultivate a calm compassion for circumstances that I have no control over.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;I am grateful for the empathy I experience.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I am nearly always present in the moment (I said 'nearly').&amp;nbsp; I have become a better listener ... this keeps me from dwelling on the past or thinking too much about the future.&amp;nbsp; To really live life we have to be in the present - without coloring it with thoughts of the past or future ( stay inside the lines).&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;I am grateful&amp;nbsp;for the happiness I feel in living in the NOW.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am most grateful for my loving family.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;I am so very blessed to have &lt;strong&gt;both of my parents and all of my siblings, my nephews and my niece and their families&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;here with me ... to be my towers of strength - my rocks - as we walk this path of uncertainty and the unknown.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I have also learned something about myself.&amp;nbsp; I love to make people laugh ... the sound of laughter and the smiles it evokes.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;I am grateful for my sense of humor.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I am not out there in the public, speaking about my affliction and how I cope, nor do I want to be ... I never did like that arena.&amp;nbsp; I am not saying these are the cards I was dealt, do you want to see them, let me show you how to play them.&amp;nbsp; I just hope that maybe even one person might begin to realize that suffering is caused by our thoughts, not the circumstances in which we find ourselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;My Blog Quote&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TR3Indx974I/AAAAAAAAAEo/v3o8x_bmshU/s1600/Untitled2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="134" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TR3Indx974I/AAAAAAAAAEo/v3o8x_bmshU/s320/Untitled2.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Have a very happy and safe New Year my friends!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-5108320402080551512?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/99vrHBSnrMghtNA_GYJs4W0u_Xk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/99vrHBSnrMghtNA_GYJs4W0u_Xk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/99vrHBSnrMghtNA_GYJs4W0u_Xk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/99vrHBSnrMghtNA_GYJs4W0u_Xk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/6aK7kubwTwQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-02T22:22:42.659-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TRvjOVkACEI/AAAAAAAAAEY/RaELZwPYSxo/s72-c/collage2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2010/12/did-you-think-i-was-done-i-had-only.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Everything Remains the Same</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/2U9SPkcl7Zo/everything-remains-same.html</link><category>neurologist</category><category>MDA</category><category>cookbooks</category><category>ALS</category><category>B-12</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Sun, 02 Jan 2011 20:19:29 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-2623656727605613459</guid><description>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Okay, since my last writing I have been to my MDA clinic for follow-up with my neurologist for my ALS,&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;rolled in the annual Walk to Defeat ALS sponsored by the South Texas ALS Association and have been shopping for Chrismas (my favorite kind of shopping trips ... on-line).&amp;nbsp; Oh, I have changed the background for this blog, as you can see.&amp;nbsp; I have also been tweeking it to have other points of interest.&amp;nbsp; I hope you all like what I have done!&amp;nbsp; You&amp;nbsp;can make comments to let me know what you think.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;All-in-all my clinic appointment at the end of October was uneventful.&amp;nbsp; By that I mean my ALS (sounds almost endearing) has not progressed.&amp;nbsp; Please, do not get me wrong, that is very good news.&amp;nbsp; Better news yet, it appears my upper body strength&amp;nbsp;is better&amp;nbsp;than my prior visit&amp;nbsp;in June.&amp;nbsp; I will be challenging friends to arm wrestling matches soon (ha!).&amp;nbsp; So, I continue with my medication, B-12 shots and miscellaneous vitamins&amp;nbsp;... continue stretching and exercising my hands and legs to fight off worsened contractures ... continue to&amp;nbsp;work at maintaining, if not bettering, my upper body strength ... and my next clinic appointment is in six months.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Cindy (my sister and in charge of my MDA clinic appointments) and I decided to go to Hobby Lobby on the way home from my appointment.&amp;nbsp; Looked around, did not see anything we&amp;nbsp; wanted so we left.&amp;nbsp; For some reason&amp;nbsp;we could not get me transferred into the car (we were in my niece's SUV - one of Chevy's smaller SUVs - and we seamlessly transfer in and out of it regularly) ... on the fourth try I sat on the floor board and told Cindy to leave me there and just drive home.&amp;nbsp; So, this is mentioned because this is a first for me ... and for some reason we get tickled when we tell this story.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Oui Walk - Oui Roll Walks to Defeat ALS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;On October 23 the South Texas ALS Association hosted their annual Walk to Defeat ALS.&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The ALS Association is the only non-&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;profit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt; organization fighting Lou Gehrig’s disease on every front. Through a nationwide Chapter network, the ALS Association leads the way in global research, coordinates multidisciplinary certified clinical care centers, supports the people and families of those affected by ALS and fosters government partnerships. The Association builds hope and enhances quality of life while aggressively searching for new treatments and a cure.&amp;nbsp; The South Texas ALS Association’s 2010 goal is $225,000.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; Oui Walk - Oui Roll apparently wrote the book on fundraising for a cause ... m&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;y team raised $5,100, which put&amp;nbsp;us&amp;nbsp;in the top 10 teams for fundraising for the cause.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;How fortunate &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;am I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt; to have such a wonderful extended family?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Oui Walk - Oui Roll&lt;/span&gt;﻿﻿﻿&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TQi2M4fyqeI/AAAAAAAAADA/ZHF9REu4dcY/s1600/owor2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TQi2M4fyqeI/AAAAAAAAADA/ZHF9REu4dcY/s400/owor2.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Left to right - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Back row: Bob Norris, Jeff Marcum, Carla Sanders, Darren Peters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;3rd Row:&amp;nbsp; Veronica Getty, Margaret Neel, Bill Neel, Martha Holmgreen, Marcia Hidalgo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Lisa Arizpe, Sam Arizpe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;4th Row: Gina Garcia, Caroline Clopton, Anna Holmgreen, Cindy Holmgreen, Nadine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Hidalgo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Front Row: &amp;nbsp;Veronica Perez, Levi Perez, Deb Hidalgo, Adreann Holmgreen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What Have I Been Up To?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Me, work?&amp;nbsp; I signed up with a company to answer questions that are sent into the company, you know ... those people who are too lazy to search for themselves, but can sit there and text into their phones (go figure).&amp;nbsp; It is a mobile answers text service where&amp;nbsp;people utilize&amp;nbsp;both the text AND mobile answers voice service - asking the company&amp;nbsp;millions and millions of questions every month.&amp;nbsp; I still have to go through their "Search University" to see if I have enough knowledge to search for other people.&amp;nbsp; I know I can search sites to shop from!&amp;nbsp; I will let you know how that goes once I test.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Have I Mentioned My Cookbook?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TRMIGSR6ftI/AAAAAAAAADM/877kzbUBKTk/s1600/ouideux+civer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TRMIGSR6ftI/AAAAAAAAADM/877kzbUBKTk/s1600/ouideux+civer.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Last year my sister, Marcia, &amp;nbsp;and I wrote a cookbook, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oui Deux 2 Cook&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, inspired by all those little bits of paper that fly out of cookbooks when opened.&amp;nbsp; I mention this because we are currently collecting favorite recipes from the family for the next cookbook.&amp;nbsp; This is no easy feat, considering there are family members that still &lt;strong&gt;write&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;their&amp;nbsp;recipes.&amp;nbsp; I asked them to submit a story&amp;nbsp;with their recipe ... right, they should all know by now if they do not tell me a story about their recipe I can make one up!&amp;nbsp; I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;t is also turning out that we are going to have to prepare the recipes so we can take pictures.&amp;nbsp; My challenge ... coming up with the graphics for the cover ... the name of the cookbook ... &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oui Deux2 Cook II&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp; I&lt;/em&gt; will let everyone know how that process goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I have got to get this posted ... I have started a new post and will get it done quicker!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-2623656727605613459?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/98kcdQbSJkXrYkswMMaZwZ50khI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/98kcdQbSJkXrYkswMMaZwZ50khI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/98kcdQbSJkXrYkswMMaZwZ50khI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/98kcdQbSJkXrYkswMMaZwZ50khI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/2U9SPkcl7Zo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-02T22:19:29.144-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TQi2M4fyqeI/AAAAAAAAADA/ZHF9REu4dcY/s72-c/owor2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2010/12/everything-remains-same.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>I Know I Say This All The Time ... I Will Get Better At This!</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~3/c2LvAzYN-C8/i-know-i-say-this-all-time-i-will-get.html</link><category>raspberry</category><category>rhetorical question</category><category>produce</category><category>Razzamatazz</category><category>naps</category><category>ALS</category><category>H-E-B</category><category>dictionary</category><category>chocolate</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Deb)</author><pubDate>Wed, 17 Nov 2010 13:40:55 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5557050814454955508.post-4542419586544388926</guid><description>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I am&amp;nbsp;a huge fan of &lt;strong&gt;dictionary.com&lt;/strong&gt; and&amp;nbsp;enjoy receiving Word of&amp;nbsp;the Day and other grammar and word tidbits published.&amp;nbsp; When I worked ... well, when I left the house&amp;nbsp;and had co-workers - not dogs and cats ...&amp;nbsp;a few of my co-workers and I&amp;nbsp; "played" Word of the Day.&amp;nbsp; We would use the word in correspondence among the three of us and during our weekly meeting, if possible.&amp;nbsp; Bosses&amp;nbsp;out there&amp;nbsp;would benefit from use of this site (not sure whether to use "there", "their" or "they're")&amp;nbsp;...&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; please tell me you did not just high-five me because I used a "good" word!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Anyway, one of the "extras" was information on punctuation and the mark that got my attention ... the INTERROBANG.&amp;nbsp; It was created to fill a gap in our punctuation system where writers often used typographically cumbersome and unattractive combinations of the question mark and exclamation mark to punctuate rhetorical statements ... where neither the question nor an exclamation alone exactly served the writer. (HOW ABOUT THAT?!)&amp;nbsp; The creator, M.&amp;nbsp;Speckter, called his mark INTERROBANG from the Latin for query and the proofreader's term for exclamation.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The INTERROBANG can convey in print an attitude, curiosity, and wonder.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Because interrobang just does not roll off my tongue easily ... I think I will go with QUESCLAMATION ... that just sounds fun.&amp;nbsp; Okay, not everyone gets as excited over words, grammar and usage as I do ... note to self -&amp;nbsp;I have to get a life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TKmw0EALSKI/AAAAAAAAABg/y2EmpKL8bJ0/s1600/interobang.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TKmw0EALSKI/AAAAAAAAABg/y2EmpKL8bJ0/s200/interobang.gif" width="95" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;When&amp;nbsp;a question mark (&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;) alone just is not adequate and, quite honestly, a response &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;is definitely not desired ... use the&amp;nbsp;quesclamation (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;‽&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;).&amp;nbsp; After reading an email already sent out you reply to the sender, "You used spell check, right‽"&amp;nbsp; Interested?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Go To: Insert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Special Character&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Font: Arial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Subset: General Punctuation &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Choose:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ‽&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Press:&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;OK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I have used the quesclamation again in this post ... wonder if you will spot it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Living with ALS ...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I wonder, some times, if I am taking my diagnosis of ALS too lightly.&amp;nbsp; From&lt;em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;About ALS: Symptoms - ... "As the weakening and paralysis continue&amp;nbsp;to spread to the muscles of the trunk of the body the disease, eventually affects speech,&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;swallowing, chewing and breathing ..."&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/em&gt;The weakness remains in my legs and hands, but when I am not feeling well I catch myself taking in deep breaths and expelling it very slowly being sure to use my diaphragm muscles or reading out loud, enunciating all my words, listening carefully to make sure I am not slurring.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;While I can not walk, I can knalk (walking on my knees), so I&amp;nbsp;have good muscle strength from ooching up on toilets, bath chairs, transfer boards&amp;nbsp;and motorized scooter.&amp;nbsp; I also have good upper body strength from transferring and pulling myself up in the bath tub and onto my scooter.&amp;nbsp; I will say that I have more tone in my arms now than I ever did prior to my ALS diagnosis.&amp;nbsp; It could be my form of ALS - considering the contradictions with&amp;nbsp;the neuropathy - stays where it is.&amp;nbsp; Maybe I just feel that for my family, for now, I hope that I am an ALS patient that has slow progression ... or better yet where progression stops - for reasons yet to be defined.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Yes, my glass is still half full.&amp;nbsp; Oh, the rose colored glasses came&amp;nbsp;off along time&amp;nbsp; ago.&amp;nbsp; I much prefer the reference of a glass half full ... sounds much more positive and somewhat refined to me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;Grrr ... More Power Naps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Back on September 11 the Hidalgo clan here in San Antonio - all 4 of us - were invited to Alice for a special induction ceremony.&amp;nbsp; Mrs. Holmgreen, my brother-in-law's mother, was inducted into the 3rd Coast Squadron Commemorative Museum Hall of Fame.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She was an army nurse in WWII and served in England and France.&amp;nbsp; The ceremony was held in a hangar at the Alice Airport and was a 1:30 p.m. event ... really cool old planes and memorabilia throughout the hangar.&amp;nbsp; It was truly a very nice ceremony.&amp;nbsp; I was hot, but so were the inductees some of&amp;nbsp; them 90 years old.&amp;nbsp; All of a sudden I felt Marcia smoothing out my hair ... she was actually popping me on the top of my head because I&amp;nbsp;dozed off and I guess people were looking.&amp;nbsp; Right at the end of the ceremony I could feel my eyelids slamming closed, but I thought I put toothpicks in them.&amp;nbsp; I swear it was just a few minute doze, though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;After the ceremony we all headed to Mrs. Holmgreen's for a feast of German pot roast (prepared by my brother-in-law, Jim and my Cajun daddy) and all the yummy fixings.&amp;nbsp; Dinner was scheduled for 6:00ish so we were all hanging out munching on snacks and sipping on Fast Eddie's Sweet Tea Vodka (distilled, or whatever they do to make vodka in Austin).&amp;nbsp; Yummy!&amp;nbsp; I moved from my wheelchair to a recliner so I could elevate my feet.&amp;nbsp; Well, I apparently slept through all the hanging out munching ... etc.&amp;nbsp; Adreann or Darren would take turns waking me up every now and then, laughing of course, and give me a snack.&amp;nbsp; I would talk for a few minutes and ... well you know the end to that story.&amp;nbsp; Grrrr, those darn power naps!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;More of My Favs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;﻿&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TORHgCcaylI/AAAAAAAAAC8/OaOYG5SO-U8/s1600/s8fromc8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="132" px="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TORHgCcaylI/AAAAAAAAAC8/OaOYG5SO-U8/s200/s8fromc8.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
﻿&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I just bet you are wondering what other "favorites" I have.&amp;nbsp; Fresh Produce ... well in&amp;nbsp;south Texas&amp;nbsp;we can shop H-E-B, oh okay&amp;nbsp;WalMart and Super Target.&amp;nbsp; Being an H-E-B shopper I reference them when talking about grocery shopping in general.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Oh yes and Central Market (and I love Central Market), but I am going to speak to "normal" shopping.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I just did not feel &amp;nbsp;like tomatoes tasted like tomatoes or that yellow squash had any taste at all.&amp;nbsp; I will not even go into selection, or lack thereof, at the store closest to us for shopping.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Mom and I were actually looking into the different Farmer's Markets scheduled in the area.&amp;nbsp; Then&amp;nbsp;we&amp;nbsp; walk into&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Straight from the&amp;nbsp;Crate&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;in Universal City.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I can actually do all my produce grocery shopping at Straight from the Crate. I bought beef steak tomatoes that, when sliced, one slice covered the entire slice&amp;nbsp;of bread.&amp;nbsp; Yes, those bacon, tomato and avocado sandwiches&amp;nbsp;were the best!&amp;nbsp; While mine was cut up because I can not lift a sandwich ... I had visions of it running down my arm ... the sign of a truly great tomato sandwich!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;The owner, Lee Stofa, actually took the time to demonstrate how to cut up a mango ... and the mangos were so sweet and good.&amp;nbsp; Lee emphasizes that if I know what I want ahead of time to call in my order and it would be ready ... Lee just does not know how I shop ... can you say impulse shopper‽&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Potatoes - baking, new, russet, sweet; onions - red, white, yellow; tomatoes - vine ripe, cherry;&amp;nbsp; okra, celery, squash, zucchini, green beans (already snapped or not), corn, carrots, hulled peas, watermelon, cantaloupe, strawberries, blueberries, pineapple, lemons, limes, oranges, bananas&amp;nbsp;-- this is just a small list of what Straight from the Crate offers and why I say it is a complete produce shopping trip for me. &amp;nbsp;Lee carries as much Texas produce as he can, but obviously bananas are not grown in Texas!&amp;nbsp; Love, love, love&amp;nbsp;this produce market!&amp;nbsp; You can find Straight from the Crate on Facebook or at 904-A Pat Booker Road, Universal City.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chocolate ...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Have I ever&amp;nbsp;mentioned how much I love chocolate?&amp;nbsp; Oh, and raspberries?&amp;nbsp; No, hmm ... missed that, but picture this or imagine the taste of this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TLgfg79EeLI/AAAAAAAAABo/77ySiWT1RsE/s1600/cadbury's+choco+spread.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;+&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TLgf8Zf0guI/AAAAAAAAABs/XSvKBKtJ1jA/s1600/razamataz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TLgf8Zf0guI/AAAAAAAAABs/XSvKBKtJ1jA/s1600/razamataz.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I will leave you with that virtual taste.&amp;nbsp; A small spoonful of chocolate chased with a shot of Razzamataz ... truly heaven!&amp;nbsp; I promise it is legal!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Wishing everyone chocolate and raspberry dreams ... yummmm!&amp;nbsp; Deb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5557050814454955508-4542419586544388926?l=debhid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mNPNfrKjLcGOpo7WxGL32sADj_g/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mNPNfrKjLcGOpo7WxGL32sADj_g/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mNPNfrKjLcGOpo7WxGL32sADj_g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mNPNfrKjLcGOpo7WxGL32sADj_g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ANolaStateOfMind/~4/c2LvAzYN-C8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-17T15:40:55.562-06:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aw-3uBwyOGI/TKmw0EALSKI/AAAAAAAAABg/y2EmpKL8bJ0/s72-c/interobang.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://debhid.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-know-i-say-this-all-time-i-will-get.html</feedburner:origLink></item><media:rating>nonadult</media:rating></channel></rss>

