<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570</id><updated>2024-11-08T09:54:17.563-05:00</updated><category term="family"/><category term="joy"/><category term="recovery"/><category term="friendship"/><category term="acceptance"/><category term="children"/><category term="silliness"/><category term="blessings"/><category term="change"/><category term="control"/><category term="childhood"/><category term="marriage"/><category term="ADHD"/><category term="beach days"/><category term="birthdays"/><category term="cat toys"/><category term="cats"/><category term="crafting"/><category term="grief"/><category term="loss"/><category term="movies"/><category term="shoes"/><category term="symbolism"/><title type='text'>All Ducked Up</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-171411198913530167</id><published>2012-06-17T17:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-17T17:58:23.663-04:00</updated><title type='text'>There Is No &quot;Step&quot; In Dad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id=&quot;internal-source-marker_0.3300719780952641&quot; style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;Many
 years ago now, my mother joined the world of single parents to raise my
 sister and I. She new it would be difficult but I don&#39;t think she had 
really bargained for how difficult it would be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;
 In a small Texas town, in the early 80&#39;s, single-parents were 
single-moms...they were also few and far between. No support groups, 
websites, or friendships to be found in our little community where every
 little (and sometimes big) thing I did was blamed on my mother&#39;s 
marital status.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;In
 the 10 years it was just us girls, we had a lot of interesting times. 
Mom met her best friend, who was also a single mother of two girls, we 
got involved in the best little civic theater Central Texas has to offer
 (in my opinion at least), and Mom dated a bit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;I
 only remember meeting a handful of men in all of that time...Mom has 
always been my number one protector in life, I&#39;ve seen her ferocity 
first hand when it came to us girls, so it doesn&#39;t surprise me that she 
took great care in who was allowed the privilege of meeting her 
daughters. The final man we were introduced to ended the 10 years of the
 Trés Amigas and finally completed our little family by bringing along 
another sister and an older brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8wURiGrkhg1eK9oBgoVwUNKRZ6thIbeShqWTwzl3aKMV5kbzpOqiP8IAMPGPVVbHUI0YHnWP4K7D_djMgI1lJPCRLBkQyb6kAEBAjtrO-dH1SwZgEbX5rrYVai0sd6buwwZ63ANdLRf0t/s1600/DaddyAndHisHog.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;210&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8wURiGrkhg1eK9oBgoVwUNKRZ6thIbeShqWTwzl3aKMV5kbzpOqiP8IAMPGPVVbHUI0YHnWP4K7D_djMgI1lJPCRLBkQyb6kAEBAjtrO-dH1SwZgEbX5rrYVai0sd6buwwZ63ANdLRf0t/s320/DaddyAndHisHog.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The &quot;Sgt. Major&quot;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;I’m
 not saying I was immediately thrilled with the prospect of “some man” 
coming into our house and interrupting the routine that we had grown so 
accustomed to; I was, after all, a teenage girl who still had a lot of 
“daddy issues” to reign in. &amp;nbsp;It was not until, at 18, confronted with 
the fact that the man who I had always called “Dad” was nothing but a 
wounded animal, best left alone to nurse his wounds, meeting the man 
that I would marry and being wounded in an unexpected way myself, that I
 finally was granted the opportunity to heal. &amp;nbsp;In the safety of a few 
rooms with a group of people who were strangers at first, I started to 
learn what relationships truly are for the first time in my short 
life...and came to some astounding conclusions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;There
 was no need for me to be bereft at my “fatherless” state, I had a 
father. &amp;nbsp;A man who had taught me more in his short 3 years in my life 
than the ol’ bio-dad had in his limited dealings with me. &amp;nbsp;I remember 
sitting down at the dinner table with my mother and this man, who is 
still best described as a Sgt. Major years after he has retired from 
service. &amp;nbsp;Looking into his kind, yet stern face and asking him if he 
objected to being called “Dad” by me. &amp;nbsp;The look of bewildered shock 
registering across his features and his halting, seemingly gruff 
“Sure...sure...that would be fine.” before he excused himself for a 
moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0y-C5YtU_5HAFjbO6mBu2NrX9JVM8ISvGOYqRCidnFQWG7r7zz1dGgcjTos9720Z9h56M7V4Vpa9-CMTlLbNbNgd-I8J6LSvrLYrz01Bmq0bc8wHA26lnuXgEjnERdTcOBRoLavnKr8LS/s1600/Daddy.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;239&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0y-C5YtU_5HAFjbO6mBu2NrX9JVM8ISvGOYqRCidnFQWG7r7zz1dGgcjTos9720Z9h56M7V4Vpa9-CMTlLbNbNgd-I8J6LSvrLYrz01Bmq0bc8wHA26lnuXgEjnERdTcOBRoLavnKr8LS/s320/Daddy.jpg&quot; style=&quot;cursor: move;&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Dad checks out his new grandson Oct. 17, 2007.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;Every
 day that passes I am continuously grateful for my amazing dad. &amp;nbsp;He 
loves all four of his children equally and we him. &amp;nbsp;I never dreamed that
I would find the love, respect, and approval of a father in this man 
the day he was introduced to me in the lobby of that little civic 
theater, but thank you God that I did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;I love you, Daddy...thank you for making your little girl a little less ducked up. ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/171411198913530167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/171411198913530167?isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/171411198913530167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/171411198913530167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2012/06/there-is-no-step-in-dad.html' title='There Is No &quot;Step&quot; In Dad'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8wURiGrkhg1eK9oBgoVwUNKRZ6thIbeShqWTwzl3aKMV5kbzpOqiP8IAMPGPVVbHUI0YHnWP4K7D_djMgI1lJPCRLBkQyb6kAEBAjtrO-dH1SwZgEbX5rrYVai0sd6buwwZ63ANdLRf0t/s72-c/DaddyAndHisHog.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-4399420214174334977</id><published>2012-03-02T11:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-03-02T11:15:37.089-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="acceptance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grief"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="loss"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recovery"/><title type='text'>Oops! Did I Really Just Say That?!?!</title><content type='html'>One of the things that I&#39;ve become increasingly more aware of with the passing of time is that grief surrounds us more and more as we age.&amp;nbsp; It comes in forms that are sometimes surprising, but it deals with the same consistent theme: LOSS.&amp;nbsp; We grow older and the losses seem to increase; jobs, money, homes, loved ones...it&#39;s all there in one form or another and sometimes several at the same time.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s intriguing to me that we each handle our loss in different ways and yet, it can often be filed under the same seven stages of grief:&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;- Shock or Disbelief&lt;br /&gt;
- Denial&lt;br /&gt;
- Anger&lt;br /&gt;
- Bargaining&lt;br /&gt;
- Guilt&lt;br /&gt;
- Depression&lt;br /&gt;
- Acceptance and Hope&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Many of us get stuck on one of those stages and find it hard to move through them and eventually overcome them and that&#39;s when our friends and family become our greatest allies in a war we never wanted to wage in the first place. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve mentioned a few times that the &lt;a href=&quot;http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/05/repairing-edit-button.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;edit button&lt;/a&gt;  in my brain is severely damaged, but it&#39;s never more real to me how  much damage there is until I&#39;m faced with a difficult  discussion...usually one about grief.&amp;nbsp; I find myself saying things and then wondering, &quot;Was that the right thing to say?&quot; &quot;Did I just put my foot in my very large mouth again?&quot; &quot;GOD! I hope they know I wasn&#39;t trying to trivialize their pain!&quot;&amp;nbsp; Usually it&#39;s all in my head, but the thoughts continue to repeat almost every time.&amp;nbsp; I think this is one of those problems that a lot of us have: the inability to know what to say to someone who is grieving.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We feel lost in those moments, sometimes entirely unable to respond in a healthy way, because the reason has been sucked out of us with a gigantic gale force wind.&amp;nbsp; We want to make the person feel better, we want them to know that life will go on...but our brains have a giant hole where reason used to be and we forget our empathy.&amp;nbsp; We forget what it is to grieve in that moment and say or do crazy things that we never would&#39;ve thought possible in our saner moments of life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My go to point is usually laughter.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve been gifted with the laugh of my mother (and her mother before her)...it&#39;s not a chuckle or a guffaw, rarely ever is it a giggle, it&#39;s usually a round of explosive cackling laughter.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve been likened to a witch&#39;s maniacal laughter more than a few times and have gradually accepted it as a compliment because many of the people who have said it have also mentioned how contagious my laughter is.&amp;nbsp; This go to point is so wired into my crazy brain that I was  recently making a friend laugh at her husband&#39;s visitation because I didn&#39;t know what else to do in the midst of so much grief...I felt like I was in a waking nightmare through the whole thing and knew that when I&#39;m weighed down, I need to laugh. So there I stood, with a few other people, forming a protective circle around my amazing friend and helping her to refocus after each visitor gave their well wishes and sympathy for the family.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s not the right response for everyone, but I knew that this one friend, more than any other, needed the laughter.&amp;nbsp; She is my Laughing Buddy and we&#39;ve seen each other through a lot of craziness over the last 2 years with our off-branded humor shared mostly through texting because neither one of us likes to call...we&#39;re much better having that time to edit ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But what of the ones that can&#39;t laugh through it?&amp;nbsp; What do I say then?&amp;nbsp; What does anyone say to make it better?&amp;nbsp; NOTHING...yep, nothing.&amp;nbsp; The beauty of the Road Of Recovery is that I finally get that there is not a damn thing I can say or do that is going to make whatever they are going through okay.&amp;nbsp; Those are the times to just listen...let them talk if they need to, let them cry, let them scream into the wind, but, for the love of all that is Holy, keep your mouth shut!&amp;nbsp; Platitudes such as, &quot;I&#39;ve been there. I know what you&#39;re going through.&quot; “Time will heal.” &quot;It&#39;s all for the best.&quot; &quot;It&#39;s all in God&#39;s plan.&quot;, will only cause the person to want to smack the living crap out of you.&amp;nbsp; Or at least that&#39;s been my experience...maybe I just say them wrong.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I still say stupid things.&amp;nbsp; I still feel like I&#39;ve done the wrong things when someone was just trying to vent their grief or frustration over loss, but the difference now is that I know I can&#39;t take it back.&amp;nbsp; All I can do is look to see if I have caused further injury or pain and if the answer is a resounding yes, then I can make amends, hope they accept and try to move on.&amp;nbsp; Because that is what I would want someone to do for me...and isn&#39;t that the basic principle to live by? The Golden Rule?&amp;nbsp; &quot;Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do Unto You&quot;...a simplistic rule for a complicated world, but I truly believe it is the right attitude for me.&amp;nbsp; If I wouldn&#39;t want someone to say something to me during my own time of grief, then I sure shouldn&#39;t say it to someone else.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/4399420214174334977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/4399420214174334977?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/4399420214174334977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/4399420214174334977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2012/03/oops-did-i-really-just-say-that.html' title='Oops! Did I Really Just Say That?!?!'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-230676112231642623</id><published>2012-02-27T15:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-27T15:38:33.444-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blessings"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><title type='text'>The League of Extraordinary Women</title><content type='html'>I might have mentioned before (then again, maybe not) that I come from some exceptional stock.&amp;nbsp; A more fitting name could not be found for them than The League of Extraordinary Women.&amp;nbsp; The list includes people who are blood related and some that are not, but they&#39;ve all helped shaped me along the road of this crazy life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My mother, The Great G, is always the first on the list...not only did she give birth to me, but she showed me what it is to not just survive the things that cause turmoil in our lives, but how to LIVE in spite of those damned moments.&amp;nbsp; She&#39;s been through so much in her life and, yet, still continues to grow, change, learn and love as she lives the best life she can.&amp;nbsp; Her writing sparked the writer in me at a very young age and I have constantly held myself up to the highest standard that I can in my writing...The Great G.&amp;nbsp; The imagery that she can put down in one line can paint a picture so beautifully of what she is trying to express that it has been known to take my breath away.&amp;nbsp; The work ethic that she has always held taught me that if you work hard, do what is right, then you can and will achieve great things...she works in a typically male job and has made a name for herself in more ways than one.&amp;nbsp; The list of positive attributes would be endless if I were to even try to write it all down.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She has two sisters that have paved the way in their own lives in different ways.&amp;nbsp; One, The Melodious MA, overcoming obstacles to finally become the music teacher we all knew she was Gifted to be...always the littlest sister, but never left behind in what she has achieved through the work and determination that only the Women of the League can possess.&amp;nbsp; The other sister, The Marvelous M, working in an area that few women still dare to go, but doing the job and doing it well.&amp;nbsp; She is a perpetual reminder (through action not word) that my emotional self is not a thing to be feared or conquered, but something instead to holds hands with, embrace, and learn to walk down the Path of Recovery knowing that it&#39;s okay to feel as long as I keep moving.&amp;nbsp; She has found ways to keep moving through some of the most horrible pain that a person can go through and she&#39;s still here...and still amazing!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Each of these women learned at the feet of a great master, their mother, my grandmother.&amp;nbsp; A woman who never begrudged a child curling up in bed with her as she said her rosary each night...even when we chattered on endlessly like the little monkeys we were!&amp;nbsp; She would smile, talk a little with us and keep on with her rosary as we would ramble on.&amp;nbsp; Her contagious laughter, always a gift, could be heard through any room of her small home...a gift she has passed on to her daughters and they have passed on to theirs&#39;...yeah, you might not ever want to be near if/when we all get together!&amp;nbsp; She was a Leader in every sense of the word and our lives are better for having her in it.&amp;nbsp; I am forever proud to share my name with hers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The ranks of the League are not confined to only blood relatives, as I said.&amp;nbsp; My &quot;Big Sister&quot; taught me about music, acceptance and how to be who you truly are, no matter how hard it is to finally be it. The Queen of TCT&#39;s Children&#39;s Workshops, one of The Great G&#39;s best friends, taught me how to breathe, act, relax, about art and how to make her special syrup out of honey and fruit when the two women were trying to feed all 4 of their combined kiddos on a budget.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I could keep going for days about these women and a few more, but I don&#39;t think anyone would be able to read for that long...So I&#39;ll close with this:&amp;nbsp; I am honored to know these women and grateful that they have helped to shape the me I am today.&amp;nbsp; Who&#39;s in your League?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/230676112231642623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/230676112231642623?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/230676112231642623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/230676112231642623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2012/02/league-of-extraordinary-women.html' title='The League of Extraordinary Women'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-3167403180257881563</id><published>2011-12-29T00:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T00:34:36.188-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="crafting"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="silliness"/><title type='text'>The Crafter In Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I go on crafting binges.&amp;nbsp; There.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve admitted it.&amp;nbsp; I&lt;br /&gt;
will craft my little heart out, forgetting just about everything else until the urge to craft has passed...the problem is that it never really passes for long. The crafting ranges from sewing, wreath making, quilting, embroidering, crocheting...the list keeps getting bigger.&amp;nbsp; This time crochet hit full force.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOjgeCC0p-rytoCrZPXEQYvJheF_RGRF_wlgwS1RWtKeMq3xOLTcueu4O8edArWLcTMRYrShyeJOksadG9FFoXY8ee3d4XHOaQeeXBo4zG2AHsSuVGwkT0NXkR5RnTo_EoeYGEEoVHLsl/s1600/JayneHat.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOjgeCC0p-rytoCrZPXEQYvJheF_RGRF_wlgwS1RWtKeMq3xOLTcueu4O8edArWLcTMRYrShyeJOksadG9FFoXY8ee3d4XHOaQeeXBo4zG2AHsSuVGwkT0NXkR5RnTo_EoeYGEEoVHLsl/s320/JayneHat.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 5; margin-left: 1; margin-right: 1; margin-top: 5;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jayne:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;(wearing ugly homemade hat) &quot;&lt;/i&gt;How&#39;s it        sit? &lt;br /&gt;
Pretty cunning,       don&#39;tchya think?&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 5; margin-left: 1; margin-right: 1; margin-top: 5;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kaylee:&lt;/b&gt; &quot;I think it&#39;s the sweetest hat ever.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 10; margin-left: 5; margin-right: 5; margin-top: 5;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Book:&lt;/b&gt; &quot;Makes a statement.&quot;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jayne:&lt;/b&gt; &quot;Yeah, yeah!&quot;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Wash:&lt;/b&gt; &quot;A man walks down the street in that hat,        &lt;br /&gt;
people know he&#39;s not afraid of anything.&quot;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jayne:&lt;/b&gt; &quot;Damn straight.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;This holiday season it started with a simple discussion about a Jayne hat.&amp;nbsp; For those of you not familiar with the Jayne hat, I&#39;m sorry, you&#39;ve missed one of the best (and tragically short-lived) shows ever that had a character, &quot;The man named Jayne.&quot;&amp;nbsp; A new friend to my son brought around new friends for us, Fro-Boy&#39;s mom and soon-to-be-step-dad. (And before you get offended, the kid is seriously proud of his fro and even has an Xbox live name that uses fro in the title! LOL)&amp;nbsp; They, like us, love the series Firefly and the movie that was based on it, Serenity...The Calm One even has a hat that a friend made for her that looks exactly like Jayne Cobb&#39;s cunning hat his mother lovingly knit for him.&amp;nbsp; She&#39;d love to have hats for the 3 boys in her house, Appalachian Man, Fro-Boy and the Little Fusser...me being the crocheting kind, I told her I bet I could make her a couple or teach her how.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And that&#39;s all it took.&amp;nbsp; Out came the left over  yarn, crochet hooks lovingly packed in their case and my favorite  little purple scissors.&amp;nbsp; Before I knew it I was making a beautiful scarf  and hat for my adorable niece, baby headbands with flowers on them,  wrist warmers...anything my mind jumped to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;20&quot; cellspacing=&quot;20&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left; width: 100%;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGItzPxfTNjzcBHnSw1XPzIGlof-5w9P7c5_rTPLBqHrofQGkm_vBIdB7oncFAbA-0SuEcTlDpt4hjoiaHk-h9_86shrAwwIN0OrrrdZYX4XcIHdxWuS19QcUu9LqFg-RjkTD2v4Bzesyq/s1600/NieceHat.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;177&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGItzPxfTNjzcBHnSw1XPzIGlof-5w9P7c5_rTPLBqHrofQGkm_vBIdB7oncFAbA-0SuEcTlDpt4hjoiaHk-h9_86shrAwwIN0OrrrdZYX4XcIHdxWuS19QcUu9LqFg-RjkTD2v4Bzesyq/s200/NieceHat.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A beautiful hat and scarf for my beautiful niece.&lt;/td&gt; &lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhId01RnabMK_UcU0-fN2Z3JMqs-bN0wyyZPsGo2vENGsTAPd1turlORE6NdWDIkeFT-ZbkQY8bbM2AcCDZkvyZZ4YMCMOveghpa2auvpQVNWTABh9xauJrmG9mF5e8NkD-UrO8Dye-UX4n/s1600/NieceScarf.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhId01RnabMK_UcU0-fN2Z3JMqs-bN0wyyZPsGo2vENGsTAPd1turlORE6NdWDIkeFT-ZbkQY8bbM2AcCDZkvyZZ4YMCMOveghpa2auvpQVNWTABh9xauJrmG9mF5e8NkD-UrO8Dye-UX4n/s200/NieceScarf.jpg&quot; width=&quot;150&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg25n66PDZC6wte3Lx5fULiVWjPpH3Usp_6WcPSI2ojwHbKQ8cy9UMCd_XCu0UGP2mhfhwnqBFfiWED-0ftR0ZwavP-VOr3oSq8XkXM2wQD1A8ot3JxFLeQRuq8PBqIslB__Pkz3GkT8p1p/s1600/WristWarmer-cabledBraid.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg25n66PDZC6wte3Lx5fULiVWjPpH3Usp_6WcPSI2ojwHbKQ8cy9UMCd_XCu0UGP2mhfhwnqBFfiWED-0ftR0ZwavP-VOr3oSq8XkXM2wQD1A8ot3JxFLeQRuq8PBqIslB__Pkz3GkT8p1p/s320/WristWarmer-cabledBraid.jpg&quot; width=&quot;168&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All of this led me to wondering if I could make something with a cabled braid on something.  I could&#39;ve looked up a pattern, sure, but that would&#39;ve been too easy...and I&#39;ve never been about the easy way in life!  So off I started working out which way to work the stitches so that it would look the way I wanted to.  At the end of it all I was able to look at one slightly bulky, but very warm, wrist warmer.&amp;nbsp; After all of that there was no way I was going to forget how I got to this point, so I typed it all up and figured what better way to make sure I never lose it than to post it?!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These instructions aren&#39;t going to be great because this is the very first time I have EVER written up one of my crazy designs, but hopefully you&#39;ll get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;Not sure of the weight of the yarn because it was a leftover from an old project and I didn&#39;t have the cover anymore; but it&#39;s extremely thick strands...so the end result is rather bulky, but SUPER warm.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m fairly certain that this can be increased in size by adding one of the small braided sections and I&#39;ll be trying this with a finer, nicer yarn as soon as I get a chance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;Size F hook (this size was perfect to go around my knuckles and leave room for movement, but I have a VERY small hand...size 5.5-6 rings).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;Terms Used:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;SC=Single Chain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;CH=Chain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;CH SP=Chain Space&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;DC=Double Chain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;ST=Stitch(es)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;SL ST=Slip Stitch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;BPDC=Back Post Double Chain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;FPDC=Front Post Double Chain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;FPTC=Front Post Triple Chain &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;2 BPDC= BPDC around the posts of the next 2 stitches from the previous row. 3 FPDC=FPDC  around the posts of the next 3 stitches from the previous row. (etc)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;BPDC2TOG=Back post double chain two together-used to decrease stitches-Insert hook as if you&#39;re going to do a BP stitch, YO and pull through (2 loops on hook). Insert hook as if you&#39;re going to do a BP stitch around the NEXT post after the one you were just working with, YO and pull through two loops, YO pull through both loops on hook. BPDC2TOG completed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;This is worked by looking at the back of the project working from the join area around to the left...therefore when I say BPDC, it may look like a FPDC to me, but as it pertains to the project, it is a BPDC. (I hope that makes sense.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;FOR THE RIGHT HAND:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 1: &lt;/b&gt; Ch 35 join to first ST to form a ring. CH 3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 2:&lt;/b&gt;  DC in each CH SP around (35 ST) Join with SL ST to top of CH 3. CH 2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 3:&lt;/b&gt;  FPDC, BPDC around (35 ST). Join to top of CH 2. CH 2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 4:&lt;/b&gt;  BPDC around each stitch (35 ST). Join to top of CH 2. CH 2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 5:&lt;/b&gt;  FPDC around each ST (35 ST). Join to top of CH 2. CH 2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;(This is where it gets interesting.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 6:&lt;/b&gt;  BPDC, FPDC, CH 2 – skip next 2 ST (this is the thumb space), 3 FPD, 2 BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, 6 FPDC, BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, 3 FPDC, 2 BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, 3 FPDC. Join with SL ST to CH 2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 7:&lt;/b&gt;  &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;BPDC, FPDC,  2 DC in chain 2 SP, *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;3&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;rd&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;1&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;st&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP by going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;BEHIND&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the FPTC you just made, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;2&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;nd&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP making sure you go in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;front&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; of both previous stitches you just made*, 2 BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;3&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;rd&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt; and 4&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;th&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;1&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;st&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt; and 2&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;nd &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP,  FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;5&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;th&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt; and 6&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;th&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP, 2 BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, repeat from * to *, 2 BPDC,  FPDC, 2 BPDC, repeat from * to *. Join to top of CH 2. CH 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 8:  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;BPDC, *FPDC, 2 BPDC, 3 FPDC, 2 BPDC*, FPDC, 2 BPDC, 2 FPDC in 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; and 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC of previous row, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;around 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; and 6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC of previous row, FP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;T&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;C (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;BEHIND&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the 2 FPTC you just made) around 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;rd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; and 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPTC from previous row, 2 BPDC, repeat from * to * ONCE, 3 FPDC. Join to top of CH 2. CH 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 9 (You&#39;ll be decreasing on this row so it starts differently.): &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC, *2 BPDC, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;FPTC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;rd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP by going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;BEHIND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the FPTC you just made, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP making sure you go in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;front&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; of both previous stitches you just made to the middle post of the set, 2 BPDC, FPDC*, 2 BPDC, 6 FPDC, 2 BPDC, FPDC, repeat from * to *, BPDC2TOG, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;FPTC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;rd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP by going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;BEHIND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the FPTC you just made, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP making sure you go in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;front&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; of both previous stitches you just made to the middle post of the set. Join with SL ST to CH 2. CH 2. (33 ST)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 10:  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC, BPDC2TOG, 3 FPDC, 2 BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt; and 4&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;2&lt;sup&gt;nd&lt;/sup&gt; and 1&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP,  FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;5&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; and 6&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP, 2 BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, 3 FPDC, BPDC2TOG, FPDC, BPDC, 3 FPDC. Join with SL ST to CH 2. CH 2. (31 ST)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 11:  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC, BPDC, *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;FPTC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;rd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP by going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;BEHIND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the FPTC you just made, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP making sure you go in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;front&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; of both previous stitches you just made to the middle post of the set*, 2 BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;, 6 FPDC, 2 BPDC, 2 FPDC,  2 BPDC, repeat from * to *, BPDC, FPDC, BPDC, repeat from * to *. Join to top of CH 2. CH 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 12:  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC, BPDC, 3 FPDC, BPDC2TOG, FPDC, 2 BPDC, FPDC in 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; and 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;, FPTC in 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; and 6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;, FPTC (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;BEHIND&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the 2 FPTC you just made) around 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;rd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; and 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPTC from previous row, 2 BPDC, FPDC, BPDC2TOG, 3 FPDC, BPDC, FPDC, BPDC, 3 FPDC. Join with SL ST to CH2. CH 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 13:   *&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC, BPDC, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;FPTC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;rd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP by going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;BEHIND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the FPTC you just made, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP making sure you go in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;front&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; of both previous stitches you just made to the middle post of the set*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;, BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, 6 FPDC, 2 BPDC, repeat from * to *, BPDC, repeat from * to *.  Join with SL ST to CH 2. CH 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 14:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC, BPDC, 3 FPDC, BPDC, FPDC, BPDC2TOG, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt; and 4&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;2&lt;sup&gt;nd&lt;/sup&gt; and 1&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP,  FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;5&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; and 6&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP, BPDC2TOG, FPDC, BPDC, 3 FPDC, BPDC, FPDC, 3 BPDC. JOIN. CH 2. (29 ST)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 15:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC, BPDC, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;FPTC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;rd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP by going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;BEHIND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the FPTC you just made, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP making sure you go in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;front&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; of both previous stitches you just made to the middle post of the set*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;, BPDC, FPDC, BPDC, 6 FPDC, BPDC, repeat from * to *, BPDC, repeat from * to *.  Join with SL ST to CH 2. CH 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 16:  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC, BPDC, 3 FPDC, BPDC, FPDC, BPDC, FPDC in 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; and 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;, FPTC in 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; and 6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;, FPTC (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;BEHIND&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the 2 FPTC you just made) around 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;rd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; and 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPTC from previous row, BPDC, FPDC, BPDC, 3 FPDC, BPDC, FPDC, 3 BPDC. JOIN. CH 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 17:  *&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC, BPDC, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;FPTC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;rd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP by going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;BEHIND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the FPTC you just made, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP making sure you go in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;front&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; of both previous stitches you just made to the middle post of the set*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;, BPDC, FPDC, BPDC, 6 FPDC, BPDC, repeat from * to *, BPDC, repeat from * to *.  Join with SL ST to CH 2. CH 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 18:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;  FPDC, BPDC, 3 FPDC, BPDC, FPDC, BPDC, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt; and 4&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;2&lt;sup&gt;nd&lt;/sup&gt; and 1&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP,  FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;5&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; and 6&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP, BPDC, FPDC, BPDC, 3 FPDC, BPDC, FPDC, 3 BPDC. JOIN. CH 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 19:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;  FPDC around each ST (29 ST). Join to top of CH 2. CH 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 20:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;  FPDC around each ST (29 ST). Join to top of CH 2. CH 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 21:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;  BPDC around each stitch (29  ST). Join to top of CH 2. CH 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 22:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;  FPDC, BPDC around (29 ST). Join to top of CH 2. **END**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;LEFT HAND:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 1- 5 are worked the same as for the right hand.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 6:&lt;/b&gt;  BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, 3 FPD, 2 BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, 6 FPDC, BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, 3 FPDC, CH 2 – skip next 2 ST (this is the thumb space), FPDC, 2 BPDC, 3 FPDC. Join with SL ST to CH 2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROW 7:&lt;/b&gt;  BPDC, FPDC,  2 BPDC, *&lt;b&gt;FPTC&lt;/b&gt; in &lt;b&gt;3&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;rd&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;1&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;st&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP by going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;BEHIND&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; the FPTC you just made, FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;2&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;nd&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; FPDC SP making sure you go in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;front&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; of both previous stitches you just made*, 2 BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;3&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;rd&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt; and 4&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;th&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;FPTC&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;1&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;st&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt; and 2&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;nd &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP,  FPDC in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;5&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;th&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt; and 6&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;th&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;FPDC SP, 2 BPDC, FPDC, 2 BPDC, repeat from * to *, 2 DC in chain 2 SP, FPDC, 2 BPDC, repeat from * to *. Join to top of CH 2. CH 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;ROWS 8-22 are worked the same as for the right hand.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;For The Thumb Spaces:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Join yarn to any place and SC around the opening for your thumb.&amp;nbsp; When you get to the first ST join with SL ST and CH 1. SC in each CH SP around, increasing ST if necessary join last to first, CH 1.&amp;nbsp; Continue SC rows until half of the thumb is covered.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So there you go! My first ever pattern...it&#39;s not perfect, but I still put it out there because it ain&#39;t half bad, either.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/3167403180257881563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/3167403180257881563?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/3167403180257881563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/3167403180257881563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/12/crafter-in-me.html' title='The Crafter In Me'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOjgeCC0p-rytoCrZPXEQYvJheF_RGRF_wlgwS1RWtKeMq3xOLTcueu4O8edArWLcTMRYrShyeJOksadG9FFoXY8ee3d4XHOaQeeXBo4zG2AHsSuVGwkT0NXkR5RnTo_EoeYGEEoVHLsl/s72-c/JayneHat.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-2848560564792418759</id><published>2011-10-29T00:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T00:53:09.042-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blessings"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>Trial And Error</title><content type='html'>Simple joys in life are the things that keep us going when times are tough.  We can pull the memories of them up and hold them like love letters from the past.  The pureness of such a simple emotion as happiness will sustain me in the most trying times...like today. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgerS8GmroT1F-B4BiAVHBchabbqkmkgRtk5-oI5GYsYkF_k5FtI0q8LwHBXh2tRETuZIZrZ_DdwGN8Sp-7qyGbRZ6M0z8x9T8MnM3LZWd47YkQGlM3EGzUDTscRbI6yWxpS5YBq-zw-MzJ/s1600/Liam%2526Conner-5.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;201&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgerS8GmroT1F-B4BiAVHBchabbqkmkgRtk5-oI5GYsYkF_k5FtI0q8LwHBXh2tRETuZIZrZ_DdwGN8Sp-7qyGbRZ6M0z8x9T8MnM3LZWd47YkQGlM3EGzUDTscRbI6yWxpS5YBq-zw-MzJ/s320/Liam%2526Conner-5.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I&#39;ve made many mistakes in my life, as have all human beings...to be human is to be fallible, but I can honestly say I have few regrets in my life.  After all, when something bad happens you have 3 choices: you can let it define you, let it destroy you or let it strengthen you.  To be defined by it means to place myself as the victim, a role in which I have never been comfortable.  Destruction of myself is not an option, I come from powerful women, we fall, we struggle, but we continue...to otherwise is just not an option because there&#39;s still just too much to do.  That only leaves growing stronger.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Through what I&#39;ve learned from life, I had hoped that my child would escape some of the hardships that I had grown up with...especially when I had learned that he shared my ADHD, but things don&#39;t always go according to our own plans.  He makes mistakes, some of them the same that his mother made before him and some entirely his own.  That doesn&#39;t mean that he&#39;s a bad person, it just means he&#39;s human...my job is to see that he learns to not let those things define or destroy him and sometimes that means asking for help.  Not just from Duckie, but sometimes beyond that to someone outside our immediate family.  It may have taken me a long time to get that through my thick head, but I do know it now...and we&#39;re working on it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFd-yuvupIa-MlYzABvhdmAIJIc29aXE5tGP8hbg5GOHdqhgtIVgresWNGIQ5m8qN2596HsutmN010NYUsHsX3AIXhaL0m2jEH8j3qMfCLBEIqEsJWAGZKkKKKXpGePqCvgxBz80dveXhz/s1600/PumpkinPatchKids2009-2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFd-yuvupIa-MlYzABvhdmAIJIc29aXE5tGP8hbg5GOHdqhgtIVgresWNGIQ5m8qN2596HsutmN010NYUsHsX3AIXhaL0m2jEH8j3qMfCLBEIqEsJWAGZKkKKKXpGePqCvgxBz80dveXhz/s320/PumpkinPatchKids2009-2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;272&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;Through all of this we have become better parents not only for Monster Teen, but also for the Toddler Troll.  It is a part of life, a fact that is sometimes troubling to a parent, that the first child is the “trial and error” child.  But, if we do our jobs well, they turn out beautiful human beings not only because of us, but sometimes in spite of us.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So today I remind myself of the beautiful joy that my teen can give me and rejoice in the fact that he has learned at least one lesson that I have given him...mistakes happen, be remorseful in the wrong that you&#39;ve done, but move forward.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/2848560564792418759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/2848560564792418759?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2848560564792418759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2848560564792418759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/10/trial-and-error.html' title='Trial And Error'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgerS8GmroT1F-B4BiAVHBchabbqkmkgRtk5-oI5GYsYkF_k5FtI0q8LwHBXh2tRETuZIZrZ_DdwGN8Sp-7qyGbRZ6M0z8x9T8MnM3LZWd47YkQGlM3EGzUDTscRbI6yWxpS5YBq-zw-MzJ/s72-c/Liam%2526Conner-5.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-964387861091291482</id><published>2011-09-21T16:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T16:28:16.135-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="acceptance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recovery"/><title type='text'>Assumptions Are A Dangerous Habit</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m a little ticked off today because of something that someone posted on a social networking site.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It&#39;s not that&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;think she really meant to jump to assumptions and belittle people; she&#39;s not the type to be offensive on purpose, but she hadn&#39;t seen the changes for herself and still blasted people for not liking something that they have every right not to like.  It may be a free service, but we don&#39;t have to like what they&#39;ve done to it...we don&#39;t have to whine either, but that&#39;s another subject for another day.  It made me think about other assumptions in life that we make every day and wonder how many of us end up hurting the feelings of someone we love, like, respect because we failed to think it through or look into the matter ourselves.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;There is a fabulous acronym in Al-Anon called “T.H.I.N.K.”, that I have been trying to use more and more.  It stopped me today from blasting the person out of the water.  I&#39;m mean and really good at using my words to cut people down to size when I&#39;m mad, but what would that have accomplished?  A lot of hurt feelings and a GIANT step backward in a relationship with someone that I need to keep healthy.  So I chose, instead, to take the time to stop and T.H.I.N.K.:&amp;nbsp; Am I being Thoughtful? Yes, in the respect that I at least took a moment before responding.  Honest?  Oh, it would&#39;ve been honest. Intelligent? Most definitely...I am my mother&#39;s daughter after all.  Necessary? Well, gee...no, probably not.  Kind?  Not in the least bit! Hmmmm...then it&#39;s probably a good idea to get that darned edit button working QUICK! There really are so many things in this world that are just better left unsaid because they don&#39;t fall under this simple guideline.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;That&#39;s the dangerous thing about assumptions, they not only don&#39;t follow under that guideline, but they can lead to other people making assumptions which can cause a HUGE snowball effect.  Politics and religion are two of the best examples of how that can happen and, for that reason, I don&#39;t discuss them with very many people.  My views are my own and I respect the people around me enough to know that they have every right to their opinions.  Now there are times when I may think that they are truly being mislead about a situation, so I will speak up...But again, am I being intelligent about it?  Do I really have all the facts about the situation so that I truly know what I&#39;m talking about?  Not just what Cousin Billy said...did I look up the source of the issue and read it for myself?  If I haven&#39;t, then I don&#39;t believe I have any right to speak on the subject.  When I regurgitate the information that has been regurgitated to me, I am making assumptions not based on facts and I have definitely not taken the time to T.H.I.N.K.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;So today I chose to write out my frustrations in a more productive way...I may not always succeed in T.H.I.N.K.ing before I act, but that&#39;s the great thing about life (as another Al-Anon saying goes) it&#39;s about PROGRESS &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; perfection. Because life is not perfect and I&#39;m sure glad it isn&#39;t...how boring would THAT be?!&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/964387861091291482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/964387861091291482?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/964387861091291482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/964387861091291482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/09/assumptions-are-dangerous-habit.html' title='Assumptions Are A Dangerous Habit'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-3717069302246331319</id><published>2011-09-20T00:29:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T11:46:03.448-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="acceptance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="control"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recovery"/><title type='text'>A Lesson From Loss</title><content type='html'>It&#39;s been a few months since our family lost one of the greatest women I have ever been privileged to know, Sheila the Great. Her loss was not something any of us could have foreseen and there are times when we each are still feeling the void that is present in our lives with out this amazing woman.  Tonight I felt it in the form of a forwarded email.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was one of those uplifting ones that people send around when they&#39;re thinking of you, but don&#39;t have much to say. I&#39;ve never been big about sending them on, but I appreciate most of the messages and take them for what they&#39;re meant to be. This was definitely one of the better ones and it compelled me to send it on to a couple of people because&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m a sucker for the uplifting wishes of joy, love and peace...this one encompassed all of those: &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&quot;May today there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others. May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.&quot;&lt;/blockquote&gt;As I started checking off the people that I wanted to send it to, I saw her name. My breath caught and I couldn&#39;t move for a moment. She&#39;s been gone since before Easter this year and I can&#39;t take her out of my address list, I haven&#39;t removed her from my phone contacts and every time I use ancestry.com or do something crafty, I see her face. I only knew her for 13 years of my 34 and yet the void that she has left in my life is real...painful.&amp;nbsp; That one little moment was enough to start a cascade of other thoughts...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Those that we meet and grow close to in our young lives usually aren&#39;t there as we get older, change, grow emotionally (other than the one or two that we cling to or our family).&amp;nbsp;The ones that are there &quot;for keeps&quot; are the ones that mean the most to us and their loss is never easy.&amp;nbsp; However, in this age of social media, that is changing, being redefined a bit because we&#39;re better able to track down the people that flit through our minds from time to time...you know the ones that we would have thought about and wondered whatever happened to, but would&#39;ve only seen at the next reunion, if we all showed up.&amp;nbsp; This is not necessarily a good or bad thing, in my opinion, but it does have the power to&amp;nbsp;alter how we change as we age.&amp;nbsp;Where we would&amp;nbsp;usually grow beyond certain people in our lives, we would&amp;nbsp;gradually be drawn to others...because to stagnate in our growth, to be stuck in a paradigm, is to fall into a place where we can easily regress...become less than our potential.&amp;nbsp;The people that we meet in our adult lives have the power to help us grow or regress...we choose which by who we keep and who we let go.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With social media flourishing all around us, we now have a wider audience and a harder time choosing who we let influence us. Do we hold to our pasts? Allow people who we would&#39;ve let go because of their negative influence on us to stay on and continue that negative flow or do we move forward and&amp;nbsp;purge them from our lives? Is there a third choice of just allowing them to be who they are and not letting it impact us? Maybe it&#39;s a little of all of those. To understand and accept that people are free to feel however they want to feel, that I don&#39;t have to agree or disagree and I have a choice as to whether I let it upset me or not, is all in my power. What they said is not right or wrong...it&#39;s their opinion. How I choose to react to what they say, now THAT is what is right or wrong....THAT is what I can control. Do I react badly and continue the negativity or do I send them thoughts of the very love, peace and joy that I wish for those that I hold closest to my heart? With all of that in mind, the question then becomes: does it really matter who we keep or who we let go as long as we are the best version of ourselves?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sheila the Great gave me more love, more wishes of peace and joy at a time in my life that I was very hard to love because she understood the choice that we have: continue the negativity or let love reign supreme. So, yes, there will be some people that I will let fall out of my life...it happens--I can&#39;t stay positive for long if there&#39;s a constant barrage of negativity around me...there will be others that I will keep because I care, but throughout it all I will take with me the lessons that Al-Anon has taught me and that Sheila the Great lived so fully of detachment with love and how to live and let live.&amp;nbsp; So I think I&#39;ll continue to&amp;nbsp;keep her in my contacts for a while as a reminder of those things...and maybe next time I&#39;ll smile instead of holding a shaky breath.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/3717069302246331319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/3717069302246331319?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/3717069302246331319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/3717069302246331319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/09/lesson-from-loss.html' title='A Lesson From Loss'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-7257451239383145795</id><published>2011-09-14T14:37:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T14:47:30.540-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Awesomeness Revealed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;A beautiful friend posted something on her facebook wall not too long ago and I skipped past it thinking, “I&#39;ll look at it some other time.” Then she posted it again, tagging someone else, and I thought, “It looks interesting, but if I&#39;m meant to read it, I&#39;ll remember to come back to it when I have time.”  The third time she posted it, tagging yet another person, I decided to take the hint and read it.  I&#39;m very glad I did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh5avhrg9yj9bVHqAoavMpJBqzE3UAYCYQIFWAlJdlsNtNKZh9zYG2CYCwRlRzeO5eWNzvfVe2oAkcrekDWMw1FLR3HpyFt1m855za0PaFrY574bO1X2W9mHxvRpeiM6KydCbZ69YSZZQV/s1600/Aley1yrChrstmas.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh5avhrg9yj9bVHqAoavMpJBqzE3UAYCYQIFWAlJdlsNtNKZh9zYG2CYCwRlRzeO5eWNzvfVe2oAkcrekDWMw1FLR3HpyFt1m855za0PaFrY574bO1X2W9mHxvRpeiM6KydCbZ69YSZZQV/s200/Aley1yrChrstmas.jpg&quot; width=&quot;143&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The smile says it all, &quot;I&#39;m&lt;br /&gt;
AWESOME&lt;br /&gt;
and I KNOW it!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://blog.pigtailpals.com/2011/08/waking-up-full-of-awesome/&quot;&gt;Waking Up Full of Awesome&lt;/a&gt; talks about the awesomeness that we KNOW we have when we&#39;re young and posed the questions: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do you still have it?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;The awesome.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Did someone take it from you?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Did you let them?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Did you hand it over, because someone told you weren’t beautiful enough, thin enough, smart enough, good enough?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Why the hell would you listen to them?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Did you consider they might be full of shit?”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;Wow!  I mean, how could it be put any better than that?!  We come into this world with the innate ability to “ROCK IT!” and somewhere along the line we either learn to keep it or have it beaten out of us by the world.  Are the people who have it beaten out of  them any less awesome? NO!  They simply have stopped having the ability to SEE it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;As I read through the comments on the blog post (yep, I&#39;m a comment addict...I love finding out what others thought about the post and hearing their brand of awesome.  I tend to skip over the trolls, though) I saw one from a teacher who talked about an assignment that they give their students every year that they “borrowed” from a grad student.  So Google and I had a chat and I found a couple of different exercises, but they were pretty much the same thing: Write a list of 50 things that you&#39;re awesome at or are awesome about you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eWbXqDJQHrRxw3ZDOPk-r7aipmTk4UFXHKv39Gx5XNSBNPfSegJSvsggnqytQFldgsnvuVkjYsSrV6iL36IQxjC0xK6kP8CGJEHrwXFo1qx0vdKPXpUngWpSvRkLRvZjN_PClU622S9e/s1600/GoofyAley.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eWbXqDJQHrRxw3ZDOPk-r7aipmTk4UFXHKv39Gx5XNSBNPfSegJSvsggnqytQFldgsnvuVkjYsSrV6iL36IQxjC0xK6kP8CGJEHrwXFo1qx0vdKPXpUngWpSvRkLRvZjN_PClU622S9e/s320/GoofyAley.jpg&quot; width=&quot;204&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&quot;To be happy, we must not be too concerned&lt;br /&gt;
with others.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
--Albert Camus&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;What an amazing concept!  Something so simple to remind us of that (sometimes hidden) bit of greatness that we possess!  And the wonderful thing is that you don&#39;t have to believe there are 50 things about yourself that are worth rating as awesome or even liking; you can start the list without even numbering it and just write a few things to see where it goes.  I bet you&#39;d be surprised by some of your own answers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;So that&#39;s my challenge to YOU today: FIND YOUR AWESOMENESS!  Re-claim it if it&#39;s been hidden, taken or squashed!  Remember that little person who pretended you could fly while you rode your bike down the steepest hill you could find in your neighborhood or finally completed that cartwheel without falling down...remember the little kid feeling that life has to offer when you live in the day and stop worrying about tomorrow.  And every time you start slipping out of today, take out that list and re-read it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/7257451239383145795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/7257451239383145795?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/7257451239383145795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/7257451239383145795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/09/awesomeness-revealed.html' title='Awesomeness Revealed'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh5avhrg9yj9bVHqAoavMpJBqzE3UAYCYQIFWAlJdlsNtNKZh9zYG2CYCwRlRzeO5eWNzvfVe2oAkcrekDWMw1FLR3HpyFt1m855za0PaFrY574bO1X2W9mHxvRpeiM6KydCbZ69YSZZQV/s72-c/Aley1yrChrstmas.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-4985471254999082730</id><published>2011-09-13T14:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T17:28:30.053-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="acceptance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recovery"/><title type='text'>The Day the Writing Stopped</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;I&#39;ve been away from writing for too long.  The catharsis of the process has been missing in my life and I find that my mind is having problems shutting down at night without it&#39;s “brain dump”.  Yet, I still hadn&#39;t gone back to it.  Like a rebellious child, I stayed away and tortured myself by not allowing the good, bad and ugly things to be purged, “talked” through and let go.  Then I got a lesson on listening to the messages put in front of me the first time my Higher Power does so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;After thinking about it, wondering what I&#39;d write about (which has never been a problem for this loud mouth before), and just general procrastination, Sunday, September 11, 2011 dawned bright and beautiful.  10 years after a day that I remembered with dread.  The week previously had gathered in a fever pitch to this day until it erupted in a moment of horrible anxiety.  I still didn&#39;t write.  (By the way, have I mentioned that I can be hardheaded from time to time?)  I didn&#39;t even go to the one place that could have offered me solace for the horrible memories of that day because I neglected to set my alarm so that I&#39;d get up in time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;Yesterday started like any other school day and it was a great day full of laughter with my older sister, the Toddler Troll, Duckie, Jfer, and Nubbets.  I had absolutely no reason to feel hardhearted in any way and joyfully accompanied Duckie to his meeting where we had a little more silliness before the meeting...and then a strange thing occurred.  In all my joy, something that had never happened to me before started taking root.  In over a year of going to his meetings on a regular basis I have NEVER gotten judgmental or angry in his meeting...my own is something else to discuss at another time, but never his meeting.  I think it&#39;s always been easier to listen to the people in there with an open mind because I know I came to learn about the disease from their perspective.  I have no views on it other than what I&#39;ve heard from them...my brain doesn&#39;t work like theirs does...so it&#39;s easier to accept what they say as their truth.  Yet, last night I found that listening to a beginner share got me critical and angry faster than even Duckie had been able to do for a long time.  As the next person began to share and the anger kept increasing, I knew this was MY problem, not theirs and I grabbed my phone and headed out to call my own sponsor. (Al-anon has sponsor&#39;s, too...it&#39;s a wonderful way to keep on a steady course in the program.)  When she didn&#39;t answer, I kept calling around until I got someone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;This was also a first for me.  That darned phone is such a heavy, horrible thing that I usually will rather sit in anger than keep calling for someone to calm me down, but I finally didn&#39;t want to be angry last night.  I finally understood what everyone has been saying around me in the meetings for the last almost year and a half: “If I&#39;m angry, there is something wrong with ME.”  And I needed someone to tell me what the heck my problem was because I couldn&#39;t rationalize it out on my own.  Thank goodness for my grand-sponsor (my sponsor&#39;s sponsor) who gave me the wisdom that I needed.  She plucked me out of my loony moment and got me back on track.  I was able to walk back into Duckie&#39;s meeting with a clear heart and an open mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;This morning gave me one final lesson that did the ultimate trick of sending me back to the keyboard.  The Phillies Phan Reverend posted her sermon from Sunday.  The one that I missed hearing.  She&#39;s not done that before, to my knowledge, being that she can be a “bit of Ludite” (her words, not mine).  As I read the message of forgiveness of not only those who hurt us, but of ourselves, I started to let go even more of the burdens that had been weighing me down.  The summation at the end of the homily that she wrote was done exceptionally well and one line stuck out because it brought me back to last night:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Forgiveness does not mean forgetting, and reconciliation is not always possible. Forgiveness means trusting judgment to God, and this is only possible by the grace that comes from God alone.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So here I am writing about the things I learned about myself and what happens to me when I&#39;m NOT writing...what does it all mean?  We all have our moments of self doubt, worry, obsession, judgment and fear where we don&#39;t let it out positively; why did this bother me so much?  Because when I don&#39;t like me, how can I expect anyone else to do so?!  If my life feels like chaos and I&#39;m blaming the entire world around me...then it&#39;s time to look at myself and think about my part of it all.  Writing is the easiest way for me to do this; forgetting that means losing a piece of me that is growing stronger and to forget that piece means I lose peace.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So think about what makes you feel better when your world is turned upside down. Now think of the last time you actually did that thing.  If it&#39;s been awhile, you might want to start trying to get back to it...it&#39;s amazing how great it feels.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/4985471254999082730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/4985471254999082730?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/4985471254999082730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/4985471254999082730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/09/day-writing-stopped.html' title='The Day the Writing Stopped'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-432622882765193585</id><published>2011-07-30T23:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T23:36:21.091-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recovery"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="silliness"/><title type='text'>A Sitcom Life</title><content type='html'>My mom once said that nothing bad ever really phases me because I just dance through life, nothing ever really touches me.  I actually loved that way of looking at it for a long time, but I&#39;m starting to look at it a different way.  I&#39;ve decided that I live in a sitcom.  That&#39;s the only explanation for my life that I have been able to come up with.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday started with what I can only call comical in retrospect and kept getting better as the day wore on.  I think that must be one of the Gifts that I&#39;ve been given; the power to walk away, calm down and then laugh.  I know plenty of other people who would still be fuming over waking up to a 3 year old screaming at a 14 year old and honey &amp; ants covering the love seat in her living room because the same 14 year old had left it out after fixing himself a midnight snack; but why?  Toddler Troll was trying to kill the ants with the honey. He had no way of knowing it would attract more...his 3 year old brain decided it was a good idea so that&#39;s what he did.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later in the day I asked Monster Teen to please empty the dishwasher.  I&#39;ve tasked him with certain chores as he&#39;s gotten older and this was one of the first things that I chose to use for his lesson in responsibility.  He&#39;s done it now for many years and only occasionally messes up the task by putting something in the wrong place, but, for some reason, yesterday he unloaded the bottom part and left the top un-emptied.  I again was in a situation where I could either choose to get upset or choose to laugh.  I laughed with full on gusto all the way to his room!  When I got there I asked him if there was a reason he had unloaded the bottom, but not the top and he looked at me completely baffled.  This only got me to dissolve into more fits of laughter which got him laughing as he went to complete his chore.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are more items like that which have colored my world and I know for a long time I had lost the ability to find humor in them, but over the last year and a half it has started to shift back.  I&#39;ve found my humor again and am enjoying this crazy sitcom that surrounds me.  It makes us all a happier bunch because with laughter around you, how can you be upset with anything for long?  So next time you&#39;re faced with a unusual situation that could leave you upset, try to find the humor.  It will only take a moment to let the smile start and then the laughing will follow if you let it.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/432622882765193585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/432622882765193585?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/432622882765193585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/432622882765193585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/07/sitcom-life.html' title='A Sitcom Life'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-2841723064052985526</id><published>2011-07-22T23:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T23:56:21.009-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="acceptance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="control"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recovery"/><title type='text'>One Plus One Always Equals Two</title><content type='html'>Sorry folks, today you get a little bit of a rant...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After 15 years of marriage I have learned one or two things...I know I still have much to learn, but the years have at least taught me some.  One of the things that both Duckie and I agreed to very early on was the need for our own personal space from time to time.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is something that I have seen a lot of conflict over in other relationships. One or the other person believes that their life must be completely enmeshed with their partner&#39;s; that a marriage is the joining of two lives into one.  Now this is not to say that some people don&#39;t thoroughly enjoy their partner being around them 24/7, I&#39;m sure there is some couple out there right now that it is working for, but the people that I have seen, it doesn&#39;t work.  One plus one is always going to equal two, no matter how you try to force it to do otherwise.  I&#39;m extremely against the kind of &quot;control&quot; that some will attempt in their efforts to prove this to be wrong, though. (And yes, the quotes are there for a reason, there is no such thing as control over another human being.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You can exert your will on them, brow beat, guilt, manipulate, but eventually it is their decision to either go along with it or not.  I don&#39;t think anyone can truly be happy in this type of relationship, but that&#39;s only my opinion and what I&#39;ve seen around me.  Duckie and I have always kept in mind that we are two different people, living in one space, sharing our lives together, but we remain two people.  There will always be things that we enjoy doing with each other, but if we didn&#39;t each get our own quiet time, someone would most likely be injured. (That&#39;s a joke, but there would definitely be a lot of issues and unhappiness.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m grateful for the time that I get to spend all to myself because it allows me to just be ME--not Mom, Wife, Daughter, Friend--just the Ducked Up Girl.  I go to see Higher Briars, to a meeting or just go grocery shopping by myself; without Duckie asking a 101 questions about where I&#39;m going or what I&#39;m doing.  Because that is a part of the understanding.  I do tell him where I&#39;m going, that&#39;s just common courtesy, but he never really questions anything because of our mutual trust and respect of one another.  We treat each other well, love each other wholeheartedly and we trust that this is enough...the other doesn&#39;t need or want to go do something stupid because we&#39;ve got someone so amazing right in front of us.  If you look at it that way then marriage is really like two roads running parallel to each other, occasionally being blocked from one another by trees, but always knowing that just around the next bend they&#39;ll be together again.  The twists and turns that our paths take us down on our own make the times together even more appreciated.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/2841723064052985526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/2841723064052985526?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2841723064052985526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2841723064052985526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/07/one-plus-one-always-equals-two.html' title='One Plus One Always Equals Two'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-3029731048515215537</id><published>2011-07-20T21:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T21:54:55.292-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blessings"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="silliness"/><title type='text'>A Worthwhile Day</title><content type='html'>Being the mom of two boys with a 10 1/2 year age gap can bring new challenges every other second and some days even have me pulling out my hair, ready to just take a nap, by 10:30 AM! Today was not one of those days, though. Today was mostly made of the good things that make life as a stay at home mom worthwhile.  One of my best qualities has always been that I can take apart the day and remove the bad things, letting only the good parts stay with me. My mother called it &quot;dancing through life&quot; once...I actually love looking at it that way.  It&#39;s not always easy, and I don&#39;t get it right all the time, but today I did.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1OMUORyHt0Zh6edqlNI0jWXLqKafJlMFI1UEuDvWaWLGjxSBmVy6LSnYIZLicdkdr6cMCbhBrBRMgs0DbqIhFLGSFZ9bHQHd4IQBwIGfBgyVgamlCQf7US-SkWhwBeU4kBCBk4SkAuld/s1600/Mother%2526Sons.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; width=&quot;263&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1OMUORyHt0Zh6edqlNI0jWXLqKafJlMFI1UEuDvWaWLGjxSBmVy6LSnYIZLicdkdr6cMCbhBrBRMgs0DbqIhFLGSFZ9bHQHd4IQBwIGfBgyVgamlCQf7US-SkWhwBeU4kBCBk4SkAuld/s400/Mother%2526Sons.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Monster Teen refused to get up today when I went in to let him know it was noon already.  He is, unfortunately, his mother&#39;s son with that; he absolutely LOVES his sleep.  I&#39;ve been known to be able to sleep until 2 pm after going to bed at 11 when I was his age (one of the perks to having a single mom who worked during the day was sleeping to all hours of the day).  I left him alone because it&#39;s really not that serious how late he sleeps and Toddler Troll and I were having a great day together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Something that I have noticed about the age gap is that Monster Teen is getting to that age where he doesn&#39;t like to snuggle anymore.  I still get hugs, but NOT in public.  Toddler Troll is still in his snuggly love-bug phase of life, so I don&#39;t miss it quite as much. (A snuggle may be a snuggle, but one child never replaces another...so I still miss my snuggle time with Monster Teen)  Toddler Troll and I  snuggle-bugged, tickled, played games and finished cleaning his exceptionally messy room together. Then came his lunch and quiet time after that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was surprised that at the end of quiet time Toddler Troll helped pick up his room with no argument...he was actually laughing and happy until I asked him to pick up his &quot;men&quot; (little knights from his castle set that Grandragon gave him).  I let him know that it was okay to keep them out if he was still playing with them and we had instant smiles again.  Some time later all heck broke loose because Monster Teen decided to &quot;grace&quot; us with his presence.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After ignoring my request for the trash cans to be brought back to the house from the curb and the recycling to be taken to the outside bin, I gave him an hour to get it taken care of and then I turned off the router so he could no longer play Xbox Live.  Yep, I&#39;m that kind of mom.  Action (or even inaction) has a consequence and one of the things that I think is a large problem in society is that too many children are not given this lesson.  He was not at all happy and began to rain his wrath down upon his brother and me to prove just how angry he was.  This rewarded him with a talk from me...there was a little more before this, but the tail end was the important part (to me).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You do know that if you would do what I asked, when I asked, you would have unlimited amounts of free time after, right?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You know I&#39;m angry, right?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I&#39;m not too thrilled with you right now either, kid, but why don&#39;t we both stop the negativity and get some happy in here.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I then left his room, letting him soak in what I had told him.  After about 5 minutes, he came out, looked at me and said, &quot;You know you&#39;re weird, Mom, but somehow it works for you. I love you!&quot; I was then gifted with the ultimate teenage reward, a hug and we continued our day with much better attitudes towards one another.  Everything that I asked for was done and he played nicely with his brother for a while, too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We had many little moments during the evening that I enjoyed...there were lots of moments of hilarity today, we all worked well together even when we had an upset to get over and now I&#39;m listening to Duckie and Monster Teen watching one of their ghost shows together after Toddler Troll went straight to bed. Yes, I&#39;m a lucky woman and I&#39;m grateful for the reminders to enjoy the little things in life that I was given today.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/3029731048515215537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/3029731048515215537?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/3029731048515215537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/3029731048515215537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/07/worthwhile-day.html' title='A Worthwhile Day'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1OMUORyHt0Zh6edqlNI0jWXLqKafJlMFI1UEuDvWaWLGjxSBmVy6LSnYIZLicdkdr6cMCbhBrBRMgs0DbqIhFLGSFZ9bHQHd4IQBwIGfBgyVgamlCQf7US-SkWhwBeU4kBCBk4SkAuld/s72-c/Mother%2526Sons.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-1386474108055171608</id><published>2011-07-18T22:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T09:11:49.456-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shoes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="silliness"/><title type='text'>Shoes Glorious Shoes</title><content type='html'>I prefer to be barefoot whenever possible, but when I&#39;m out and about shopping, I love looking at the shoes.  Beautiful, quirky, eccentric, fun, darling, comfortable shoes...if I had an unlimited budget I would have a closet full of them.  I&#39;ve always loved them and my style has only changed subtly over the years.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVCLvfrEQFQK8aHagFBdSt86UMkg2U_nspO-bVCGjNvEdKxMdSSwpVQQUEV3XGWfbSvRRZquHmdwZ4uEO3xEnjdPJ-URZ5NmWc7CHqi4Otvp_XYMxoQtaOSRZ9BLUWHsx3UE0k7q3tNvx/s1600/classic-keds.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;150&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVCLvfrEQFQK8aHagFBdSt86UMkg2U_nspO-bVCGjNvEdKxMdSSwpVQQUEV3XGWfbSvRRZquHmdwZ4uEO3xEnjdPJ-URZ5NmWc7CHqi4Otvp_XYMxoQtaOSRZ9BLUWHsx3UE0k7q3tNvx/s200/classic-keds.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Years ago I was a sneaker kid...I wanted to be trendy and wear Keds, but we couldn&#39;t afford them, so I got the Walmart versions.  It made no difference to me, they looked the same, just no little blue tag on the back proclaiming their &quot;worth&quot; to the world.  I was fairly easy to please that way, or so I remember...Mom may remember differently.  I didn&#39;t mind hand-me-downs or thrift shop excursions...it was actually kind of fun to rifle through the racks at &lt;a href=&quot;https://www.facebook.com/pages/Second-Hand-Rose/111721178913060?sk=wall&quot;&gt;The Second Hand Rose&lt;/a&gt; with my mom, but that may have been more about the quality time with her than it was about the clothes.  She made shopping, even when we were just window-shopping, the most fantastic experience of my young life.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCGu48MiA2tZYX6LWu4AAEWSrKQPvOxFpUkmjUo-X_DEOvMB-r5oZbNZNdLhSv0U0KnrfEff0b0BogbXOpEFFHCVFVGvM3jAU70aYPOhQF_pN4fmRlCqyVxxQLrpwSTM6Pcq0gNvlN6Yeb/s1600/shoesPost.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; width=&quot;193&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCGu48MiA2tZYX6LWu4AAEWSrKQPvOxFpUkmjUo-X_DEOvMB-r5oZbNZNdLhSv0U0KnrfEff0b0BogbXOpEFFHCVFVGvM3jAU70aYPOhQF_pN4fmRlCqyVxxQLrpwSTM6Pcq0gNvlN6Yeb/s200/shoesPost.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My style didn&#39;t change much as I grew older. I added in a few pieces to my sneaker repertoire such as baby doll shoes, knock off Birkenstock shoes, and flip-flops.  I carried variations on these ideas through my life until I met Higher Briars and found out what a true shoe fetish was really about.  She brought me into the world of quality shoes with the flair that only she could and I bought my first pair of expensive sandals to go with a dress she&#39;d helped me find.  I wear them with just about every dress I own during the summer because they are so versatile and unbelievably comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-oE-6-q3UMcuddXbTJ6-VtFQLvmz6B77LQuthLHwtJRoOJb_nmUsEO47nydzYBAtu22fDum4KvqodFHWA52-kl6hhR3q1lDLECgy-v7BrMbyuZESdONWQmQcgejbo9iNQLRNjmAyzToA/s1600/shoesPost2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; width=&quot;160&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-oE-6-q3UMcuddXbTJ6-VtFQLvmz6B77LQuthLHwtJRoOJb_nmUsEO47nydzYBAtu22fDum4KvqodFHWA52-kl6hhR3q1lDLECgy-v7BrMbyuZESdONWQmQcgejbo9iNQLRNjmAyzToA/s200/shoesPost2.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What is that makes us love the shoes we love, though?  I know that, for me, I have to be careful to buy items that don&#39;t aggravate my bunion (thank you, retail in heels) and bad ankle (thank you, clutz that I am), but I love shoes that represent a little of who I am.  Thanks to Higher Briars I have a few more shoes to add to that pile.  They are still a variation on my favorite styles, but with some fun new twists...they are also well made so they should last me a very long time (another thing that I can appreciate after years of cheap shoes).  Thank goodness I got different colors so I can easily pair them with an outfit without having to sit and wonder which one to pick!  That FedEx truck better be here early on Wednesday!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/1386474108055171608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/1386474108055171608?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/1386474108055171608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/1386474108055171608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/07/shoes-glorious-shoes.html' title='Shoes Glorious Shoes'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVCLvfrEQFQK8aHagFBdSt86UMkg2U_nspO-bVCGjNvEdKxMdSSwpVQQUEV3XGWfbSvRRZquHmdwZ4uEO3xEnjdPJ-URZ5NmWc7CHqi4Otvp_XYMxoQtaOSRZ9BLUWHsx3UE0k7q3tNvx/s72-c/classic-keds.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-1314349680627545258</id><published>2011-07-15T13:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T13:33:17.252-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="movies"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="symbolism"/><title type='text'>Movie Symbolism Wins Again</title><content type='html'>Fifteen years ago I had a very definitive idea of what good cinema was all about.  I didn&#39;t care for &quot;childish&quot; comedies, adored romantic movies, wanted to see good acting not special effects and my tolerance for action was extremely low.  I had never realized that most of the movies that I adored at the time were predictable at best and lacked the style and substance I thought they&#39;d had.  I was extremely naive about life in general back then and that tainted my views on films completely.  I was definitely not the kind of person you would call a movie-buff...and then came Duckie.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Duckie&#39;s views were a complete 180 degree perspective from mine.  He loved action, begged for bigger and better special effects and didn&#39;t really care about what kind of story it had, as long as something blew up.  I dreaded seeing movies with him in the beginning of our relationship because the Curse of the People Pleasers already had a firm hold on me; I wanted him to be happy no matter my discomfort.  A strange thing started to happen as the years drifted along, though. Our ideals began to merge...we each started seeing that the other had a point to their view.  As I stared at the screen, watching fight scenes, begging to find anything I could enjoy in it, I started to notice the grace in movement.  Yes, it&#39;s a very girly thing to notice, but it was the start to not dreading an outing to the movies when it was his pick.  It was strange when I started to actually enjoy going to see Kung Fu movies because I noticed the artistry in every little piece.  It was more than the action, more than the costumes; there was a deeper story there if you watched it with an open mind. Even stranger, though, was that Duckie started to need more from his movies than just action.  He needed a good strong plot line...he still likes mindless-blow-em-up-bang-bang movies from time to time, but he mainly wants to see something with substance now.&lt;br /&gt;
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That&#39;s not to say that we both don&#39;t get in the mood for some mind-numbing substance-less movies from time to time, the occasions are rare these days and last night just happened to be one of them.  We picked a movie that had gotten horrible reviews...Sucker Punch.  Everything we had read on it said that it was drivel...action with very little storyline and absolutely poor acting.  Imagine our surprise when we immediately started seeing something more.&lt;br /&gt;
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Every piece of the movie was designed to tell the story.  It wasn&#39;t inundated with dialogue, as a matter of fact, there was very little of that in there, but the story unfolded before us in an unexpected way.  I have seen very few films that have used everything from the sites on the screen to the music running alongside the action to let you know what lies beneath the surface, but this was definitely one of them.  I won&#39;t give any spoilers, but I will tell you that if you watch the movie, watch with an open mind.  Look for the subtext of it all because it is there and it left us talking until 2 o&#39;clock in the morning about the nuances that made this one of the best movies we&#39;ve seen in a long time.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/1314349680627545258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/1314349680627545258?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/1314349680627545258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/1314349680627545258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/07/movie-symbolism-wins-again.html' title='Movie Symbolism Wins Again'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-3685592174434840372</id><published>2011-07-13T20:07:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T20:10:55.580-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="childhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendship"/><title type='text'>Mirror Of Behavior, Am I A Good Friend?</title><content type='html'>You never know what you mean to someone until it&#39;s suddenly brought to your attention in a grand way.  More than that, you never know whose life you&#39;re going to touch the most.  I&#39;ve mentioned before that I suffer from the &lt;a href=&quot;http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/05/levels-of-importance-or-curse-of-people.html&quot;&gt;Curse of the People Pleasers&lt;/a&gt; and the people that I actually TRY to please end up being the ones that I meant the least to in the grand scheme of things.  That&#39;s not saying that we don&#39;t enjoy each other&#39;s company from time to time or that the friendship doesn&#39;t mean anything, but we don&#39;t fully appreciate one another.  The people that I have meant the most to in my life are the ones that I have just been myself around.&lt;br /&gt;
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Those are the people that I feel at ease around...I never have to be anything other than myself.  I believe that is what true friendship is about; being yourself without fear of judgement.  I&#39;ve only got a few of these kinds of friendships in my life and only a small bit of those count as heart family.  I shouldn&#39;t be shocked when one of them finds me to be the kind of friend that I feel they are.  A serious lack of self worth causes me to never see it coming.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today was such a case.  A dear friend started her own blog and wrote about me and what I mean to her.  I&#39;ve never seen such wonderful things written about myself!  I had always hoped that I was the kind of person that she spoke of, but to see someone truly feel that way about me was priceless.  Especially since I wasn&#39;t trying to impress her or leave any kind of lasting impression...5 years ago she requested me on Facebook because her husband went to high school with me and she&#39;d heard a lot about me.  A chance encounter that has led to a lasting friendship...one that I am eternally grateful for.&lt;br /&gt;
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So what is the point of all of this you ask?  It&#39;s this:  are you being the best kind of friend you can be?  Write down what you want out of your ideal friendship and use that list against yourself.  Be honest...no one else is going to see it, so why not?!  Look at the things that are on that list as the best way to be...because isn&#39;t that what we are supposed to do?  Treat the people around us like we want to be treated? It&#39;s what we teach our kids, but are we practicing it?  Because if we aren&#39;t the best kind of friend they won&#39;t ever learn how to be; because young children learn from example before they ever learn from our words.&lt;br /&gt;
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Think about that:  are you the best example of what you want your children to be?  They hang on our every word and imitate us when they play.  Haven&#39;t you ever heard them talking to their toys telling them how to behave?  The way you hear them talking to those toys is how they hear you speak.  They are the best Mirror of Behavior in the universe...so make sure what they have to reflect is the best you have to offer.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/3685592174434840372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/3685592174434840372?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/3685592174434840372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/3685592174434840372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/07/you-never-know-what-you-mean-to-someone.html' title='Mirror Of Behavior, Am I A Good Friend?'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-6647209494805343317</id><published>2011-07-07T00:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T11:34:58.704-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><title type='text'>Turn Your Porch Light Off...Make a Real Difference</title><content type='html'>This has been a tough week for a lot of people because they aren&#39;t happy with a verdict in a trial that they have had nothing to do with other than that they followed it in the news.  I will have to agree with my friend, David Wright, that we tend to feel powerless in situations where we have no control and it makes us angry.&lt;br /&gt;
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Am I saddened that a child lost her life? ABSOLUTELY!  Do I think that it is suspicious that the mother told so many lies during the investigation?  Darn right!  But I didn&#39;t hear everything that the jury did and I&#39;m not going to form any full opinions over it.  That&#39;s just how I roll...sorry if that upsets you, but I refuse to get angry at someone who has an Ultimate Judge to take care of whatever she deserves.&lt;br /&gt;
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What does frustrate me is that people are putting on their porch lights for remembrance of this innocence lost.  It&#39;s a nice sentiment, but it doesn&#39;t really do anything.  David posted a &lt;a href=&quot;https://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=10150229425876483&amp;comments&quot;&gt;very angry note&lt;/a&gt; that describes his feelings on it all...it also gave some very interesting statistics:  “Seventy-Three of the One-Hundred and Twenty-Seven (or so) missing American children on helpfindmychild.net have gone missing since the reporting of Caylee Anthony&#39;s disappearance in June of 2008.&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
As near as I can tell, an average of more than 700,000 American Children are reported missing annually (it appears that a large number of these are erroneous, but more than 100 of them are &quot;stereotypical&quot; kidnappings - the kind of stuff you see on Law &amp; Order).  Upwards of 200 end in death.&lt;br /&gt;
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There are CURRENTLY 328 missing children in the State of Florida alone.”&lt;br /&gt;
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So I&#39;m going to follow his lead and say, turn off the porch lights.  If you want to do something to remember that poor baby who was taken far too soon, donate the money that you would&#39;ve spent if you&#39;d left that light on for 6 months to a year to &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.missingkids.com/missingkids/servlet/PageServlet?LanguageCountry=en_US&amp;PageId=1805&quot;&gt;The National Center For Missing &amp; Exploited Children&lt;/a&gt;. (If it&#39;s a 100 watt bulb and you leave it on for 24 hours that&#39;s 2.4 kilowatts. So if you pay about 12 cents a kilowatt for electricity that comes to 29 cents/day or $52/6 months.)  Do something with the anger that you feel that will actually make a difference.  Stand up for ALL of the children that need our help, thoughts, prayers.  Because I like to think that if we all wake up to what we really can do in this world we&#39;d be surprised at the differences we can make.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/6647209494805343317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/6647209494805343317?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/6647209494805343317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/6647209494805343317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/07/turn-your-porch-light-offmake-real.html' title='Turn Your Porch Light Off...Make a Real Difference'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-2906558086776918173</id><published>2011-07-04T13:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T13:32:52.948-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="childhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><title type='text'>Small Town Fourth of July Memories</title><content type='html'>We moved around quite a bit when I was a small child...it wasn&#39;t until we got to the small town of Belton that we stayed put and I got to grow up around amazing people.  As I&#39;ve said before, we picked up some extended family in and around our home.  With family, traditions start to form easily.  You find these little things that you enjoy so much that you go back again and again each year.  One of those was the annual &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.rodeobelton.com/&quot;&gt;Fourth of July parade&lt;/a&gt; for our family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Believe it or not, there are people all over the state of Texas that know about our small town parade...it&#39;s one of the best I&#39;ve ever seen to this day.  They come from all over to participate in festivities of the weekend.  But even knowing that, I was still surprised to find that USA today actually included it in their &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.usatoday.com/travel/destinations/10great/2008-06-26-fourth-of-july-parades_N.htm&quot;&gt;10 Great Places To Fly Your Patriotic Colors on July 4th&lt;/a&gt; article.  I have to say that it made me feel extremely proud to see Belton, TX in that list...that feeling of “I came from there” swells up and I can&#39;t help smiling as the memories flood through my mind.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2C9OcR_YIbsNs5HdbfSfUGcbRQAkr5RQEWJ-D-6yCEHLhB2jBEyqe_PPB1p1Yr6USbMtL5lBwE9Obl0DzQ6Sw-RlC9MlCH-kR-c7pCUqoeZXlx_jfy0Q2x-kKQN8i62p434p7ySfQ8-p/s1600/DSC02659%25281%2529.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2C9OcR_YIbsNs5HdbfSfUGcbRQAkr5RQEWJ-D-6yCEHLhB2jBEyqe_PPB1p1Yr6USbMtL5lBwE9Obl0DzQ6Sw-RlC9MlCH-kR-c7pCUqoeZXlx_jfy0Q2x-kKQN8i62p434p7ySfQ8-p/s320/DSC02659%25281%2529.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align:center; text-size:small;&quot;&gt;Dr. Long pulling his family by lawn mower in their little red wagons.  I can remember when there were only a few wagons behind him.  The tradition is now carried on by his son, but I managed to find a picture of him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We would wake early and head down to the parade route to get a good seat...there were actually people who would sleep in their spots over night or would park their trucks, gate to the street, to ensure they got the best view.  It was serious business picking your spot and some of the town actually had “their spots”, a family&#39;s favorite place of viewing the parade for years.  We usually spread our blanket on the front lawn of First Baptist Church, but we weren&#39;t too picky, as long as we could see, we were happy.  When the parade would start there were always cheers, clapping and smiling faces from everyone, especially the kids.  The candy thrown from floats, the Marching 100 passing us by, the man with the lawn mower towing his family behind him in little red wagons...I could keep going with items/people that I remember as part of my favorite Fourth of July tradition.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJb1x9oOcfymIKNKwWWqluOxHlCStra8_wf8qlyGwu0MW1cHc6SDzo0wmmomAbEhXDJVCQ_6LnpzWoyPvyS4C1BpgIlhk3iUoceBdKHhCV2EuH_7xFeGK0w7J_d2hZQ-XzD42piFMstaP/s1600/DSC04742.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJb1x9oOcfymIKNKwWWqluOxHlCStra8_wf8qlyGwu0MW1cHc6SDzo0wmmomAbEhXDJVCQ_6LnpzWoyPvyS4C1BpgIlhk3iUoceBdKHhCV2EuH_7xFeGK0w7J_d2hZQ-XzD42piFMstaP/s320/DSC04742.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align:center;&quot;&gt;Belton High School&#39;s Marching 100 Band&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Fourth of Julys in Texas, especially Belton, are something that I miss profoundly because of how special they always made it.  Our nation&#39;s birthday was celebrated to the utmost...I was left knowing exactly why I should have pride in America by growing up in a place where rodeo reigned supreme, there was always some fun at the Festival on Nolan Creek and the Belton parade showed us all what patriotism and good old family fun was supposed to be.  I&#39;ve never found another place that could live up to the memories that my hometown has given to me...I enjoy the fireworks, family fun and friendship that I participate in outside of my home state, don&#39;t get me wrong, but nothing beats out those memories.  &lt;br /&gt;
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So what are some of YOUR favorite memories of our country&#39;s birthday?  Please, feel free to tell me in the comments section what has always given you a sense of pride in our nation.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/2906558086776918173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/2906558086776918173?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2906558086776918173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2906558086776918173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/07/small-town-fourth-of-july-memories.html' title='Small Town Fourth of July Memories'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2C9OcR_YIbsNs5HdbfSfUGcbRQAkr5RQEWJ-D-6yCEHLhB2jBEyqe_PPB1p1Yr6USbMtL5lBwE9Obl0DzQ6Sw-RlC9MlCH-kR-c7pCUqoeZXlx_jfy0Q2x-kKQN8i62p434p7ySfQ8-p/s72-c/DSC02659%25281%2529.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-1633683924400980648</id><published>2011-06-28T13:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T13:35:54.042-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recovery"/><title type='text'>A Touch Of the Unexpected</title><content type='html'>There are several things that I never expected in life that have turned out to be blessings of unimaginable proportions.  One of those is the love, fellowship and comfort I have found in the rooms of recovery.  I can&#39;t imagine any little girl dreaming of her future and saying, “When I grow up I want to marry an alcoholic who will eventually find recovery and we can go to meetings together!”  Yet, here I am, 15 years into our marriage, doing just that, and I&#39;m truly enjoying it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The love was probably the most unexpected.  I mean how many places can you walk into a room, not know a single person there and receive hugs and unconditional love just because you&#39;re there?!  Not many, I&#39;d say, but the rooms of Al-Anon and AA do just that.  You are welcomed “with open arms&quot; and loved for who you are, even if you&#39;re (and sometimes because you&#39;re) not able to love yourself at that moment.&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MWrLUBlEGBA6mTTALcv7JzXkoQ3HBxm8_UjVnrrOG3-mDpWYEOC99t1CokBoEgiYI0IiIfh85Sn_2O_PN8TQZ_sWcCue6IahSZ-6tpsjBkvwhWnvtgEgT4HBznJD6ds9yNQdn4tg3aWn/s1600/AA-ALANON-LOVE2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;251&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MWrLUBlEGBA6mTTALcv7JzXkoQ3HBxm8_UjVnrrOG3-mDpWYEOC99t1CokBoEgiYI0IiIfh85Sn_2O_PN8TQZ_sWcCue6IahSZ-6tpsjBkvwhWnvtgEgT4HBznJD6ds9yNQdn4tg3aWn/s320/AA-ALANON-LOVE2.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Don&#39;t get me wrong, I was petrified when I first walked into an Al-Anon meeting, unsure of what to expect and what kind of people I would be faced with, but the words that I heard, the steadiness of the people around me and the hugs with murmured words of, “Just keep coming back.” made me feel more at ease and completely welcomed.  The same was given in the first AA room I walked into with Duckie...I wasn&#39;t even a member, but they welcomed me into the rooms with the same love that they had shown my husband.&lt;br /&gt;
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Which brings me to the fellowship.  I&#39;ve always been known as a “people person” who could make friends with a lamp post if it was the only thing near me to talk to, but I&#39;d withdrawn over the years, not trusting that I would be accepted and even if I was, I just “knew” no one would accept my sullen and often angry husband.  I&#39;ve found more friendship, true camaraderie, in such a short time than I have found in the rest of my life.    I&#39;m still learning in little ways and big, what that friendship means...it&#39;s amazing and a little scary, but infinitely worth it.&lt;br /&gt;
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I thought they must be insane to love me and welcome me with friendship so easily; that it would surely go away once they got to know me and found out how annoying I could be.  Wasn&#39;t that what almost everyone did?  But that “insanity” drew me to them like nothing else could...that was all I had known for so long that it was comfortable.  As I got to know different people, they didn&#39;t draw away, they actually smiled, nodded and said things like, “I did that, too!  Didn&#39;t it make you feel insane?!” with little laughs at their own craziness.  I&#39;ve never felt so un-judged by so many people in the same place!  No one tells me that things that happened were all my fault or what I should have done...they nod, give me encouragement of the future and make sure that I know that things can change if I am willing to let them.  &lt;br /&gt;
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The smells of cigarette smoke and coffee, eerily familiar thanks to a childhood spent at Temple Civic Theatre, add to my feelings of ease.   I&#39;ve met people in both of the rooms who remind me of characters from my childhood in that amazing place.  I know you&#39;re laughing at me calling people I remember “characters”, but they truly were/are.  I heard my first dirty joke at a cast party, I learned how to dance, sing, play cards quietly in the green room so the stage manager wouldn&#39;t hear us, how to do props, painting, and the all important making a quick change of clothes by stripping out of my current costume while running through the lobby on my way to the dressing room for the new costume.  I, along with many other kids, spent summers there learning at the feet of my mother&#39;s best friend how to put on a production from start to finish.  There are people that I grew up with at TCT who will forever be my family and, I find, it is the same with some of the people in the rooms of recovery...what an interesting parallel to my childhood.  Add that to the list of the unexpected!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/1633683924400980648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/1633683924400980648?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/1633683924400980648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/1633683924400980648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/06/touch-of-unexpected.html' title='A Touch Of the Unexpected'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MWrLUBlEGBA6mTTALcv7JzXkoQ3HBxm8_UjVnrrOG3-mDpWYEOC99t1CokBoEgiYI0IiIfh85Sn_2O_PN8TQZ_sWcCue6IahSZ-6tpsjBkvwhWnvtgEgT4HBznJD6ds9yNQdn4tg3aWn/s72-c/AA-ALANON-LOVE2.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-2249754508784714937</id><published>2011-06-21T00:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T23:00:46.167-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cat toys"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cats"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="silliness"/><title type='text'>My Own Little World of Insanity</title><content type='html'>So the one thing that my blog should have taught you by now is that I&#39;m a little bit insane.  I like to do things my own way and definitely live in a world all my own...the theme music here is FANTASTIC!  Today I made Duckie literally laugh out loud when I brought home a collar and leash for our newest cat.&lt;br /&gt;
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Yes, you read that correctly, I brought home a leash and collar for a CAT.  She had unquestionably been an outdoor cat for some amount of time before she came to us and continues to try to dart outside whenever the door opens.  I hate to see an animal unhappy and wanted to see if something simple could alleviate her forlorn looks out the window.&lt;br /&gt;
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The first trick was giving her some kitty crunchy treats while I hooked the collar on her.  If looks could actually say something, hers would have been hollering, “What the heck?!?!  What do you think you&#39;re doing?!” (There would probably have been a few profanities thrown somewhere in there, too.)  But she scarfed her treats down before she tried to scratch it off.  The next step was hooking the leash to the collar...yeah, she attacked it as soon as it was attached.  Rolling around on the floor, kicking at it, trying to paw it out of her way and giving me more dirty looks.  When the door opened, she didn&#39;t even move towards it, Duckie had to pick her up and carry her outside because I was too busy sitting on the floor, laughing my tail off while I held onto the leash.  Once she was placed on the grass she looked around, rolled in the grass, gave the leash an evil look and then lay down in perfect bliss.  &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjou_zScrkbMfFnuxs0q4poorEsDMeKH1sH2nDfZKcJ64w_xU1CpzQFAPa6rPR5d8MuXGs_VBBAoJIfUd0Qa0iDu7AJ_wBUyeI3-YS6JMnTCpjIWph-YLo9HZHgYYbte5eUrOkh0sul1ZJN/s1600/IMG_9090.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjou_zScrkbMfFnuxs0q4poorEsDMeKH1sH2nDfZKcJ64w_xU1CpzQFAPa6rPR5d8MuXGs_VBBAoJIfUd0Qa0iDu7AJ_wBUyeI3-YS6JMnTCpjIWph-YLo9HZHgYYbte5eUrOkh0sul1ZJN/s320/IMG_9090.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I had to carry her back into the house after our playtime outside was over.&lt;br /&gt;
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I had also picked up some new cat toys while I was in the pet aisle, now Pawsha is tearing around the house flying around the toys, coming back to them and knocking them clear across the room while our other two cats look at her like she has lost her mind.  Zoe actually made the mistake of getting too close a couple of times and being pounced....I&#39;m still laughing at Pawsha “attacking” Zoe from behind the curtain to the point that Zoe flew about 5 feet back across the room!!!  I can see many little escapes to the outside with Pawsha in the future (and the other 2, also, if I thought they would let me get the leash on them)...who knew a kitty on a leash could bring so much happiness to not only her, but to me as well!?!&lt;br /&gt;
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So tonight, the theme music in the Land of All Ducked Up is a laugh track and I&#39;m enjoying every minute of it!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/2249754508784714937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/2249754508784714937?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2249754508784714937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2249754508784714937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-own-little-world-of-insanity.html' title='My Own Little World of Insanity'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjou_zScrkbMfFnuxs0q4poorEsDMeKH1sH2nDfZKcJ64w_xU1CpzQFAPa6rPR5d8MuXGs_VBBAoJIfUd0Qa0iDu7AJ_wBUyeI3-YS6JMnTCpjIWph-YLo9HZHgYYbte5eUrOkh0sul1ZJN/s72-c/IMG_9090.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-2353171919664192600</id><published>2011-06-19T23:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T23:31:56.186-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="birthdays"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blessings"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recovery"/><title type='text'>Love And The Unexpected</title><content type='html'>The week of my birthday always seems to bring an amazing mix of love and the unexpected in my life.  This week was definitely no different.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As the school year came to a close on my birthday, Troll Toddler ran me ragged with our exploits in the outdoors around the house, amazing wishes for greatness on my birthday (and for a couple of days before and after it), and, as it often does, coming to a close with Father&#39;s Day Weekend.&lt;br /&gt;
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As I said in yesterday&#39;s post, my Saturday was beyond measure and left me ready for more family fun today with a cookout at the in-laws.  We started the day at our church with one of the most amazing sermons I have ever heard on the Trinity.  The Reverend that we have been blessed with in our lives constantly surprises me with the fact that she always has this power to either say something I needed to hear, or something that makes me think.  Today was a little of both.&lt;br /&gt;
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On to the store to pick out our eats for the cookout and get a travel corn-hole board for the kids to play with at the cookout.  We had seen a really great smaller version of the game at the beach and I had found out that it was sold at one of the most prolific stores on the planet...we definitely needed something for those crazy kids to stay away from our boards when we are trying to play, so it was the perfect find!  For those of you who don&#39;t know what corn-hole is, it&#39;s kind of a combination of a beanbag toss and horseshoes.  I can&#39;t stand horseshoes, but no matter how badly I do at corn-hole, I ALWAYS have fun.  The rain came in and kept us from playing today, but the kids had a ton of fun chasing each other and getting absolutely FILTHY after it had cleared out.  Top that off with a birthday party for my favorite 2 year old nephew and you have a recipe for an phenomenal afternoon!&lt;br /&gt;
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Now for the touch of unexpected...I came home to a message from my former step-mother.  I&#39;ve kept in contact with her through the years, though very sporadically, and we&#39;ve been blessed with social networking allowing us glimpses into the other&#39;s life, even when we didn&#39;t have the time to really talk.  I don&#39;t know what I expected when I started putting my thoughts out for the world to see...I guess I really didn&#39;t give it much thought at all, but receiving her message today helped me in ways that I never would have imagined. &lt;br /&gt;
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The words that I read, repeatedly, washed over me, giving me warmth and love in the most unforeseen ways.  The peace that I have found when dealing with my biological father was reinforced through her insights on him and kind praise of the woman I am.  To see her views put out there and know what she has come to believe through her own thoughtful reasoning, to hear it from a place of healing and light...to have that loving gift from her...it adds to the blessings all around me and makes for an sensational birthday week.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/2353171919664192600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/2353171919664192600?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2353171919664192600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2353171919664192600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/06/love-and-unexpected.html' title='Love And The Unexpected'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-5298632563569195567</id><published>2011-06-18T23:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T23:55:26.769-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="beach days"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="joy"/><title type='text'>The Purest Form of Love is Joy</title><content type='html'>There are very few days that will ever exceed the joy that I experienced today.  Playing at the beach is always one of my favorite escapes, but being there with my kids, nephews, niece and other assorted family is amazing!  We each took turns watching the munchkins as they splashed their way into the surf and back out again.  The exuberance that they exhibited with every move could not have been more apparent and I loved every minute of it!&lt;br /&gt;
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I have been to the beach many times with my own children, and when Monster Teen was much younger we went all the time with the whole family, but this was the first time that I have been with all of my nephews and one of my nieces (they&#39;re so much younger than my oldest and we don&#39;t usually have them all up here at the same time).  The most amazing 5 year old in my life had me laughing hysterically as he karate chopped the waves and told them, “YOU&#39;RE GOING DOWN!” My favorite 7  year old niece was riding the waves on a boogie board better than most of the adults on the beach... “I&#39;m not moving until my Aunt [Ducked Up] sees how far up on the beach I got!”  My own children enjoyed every minute of their time in the water and on the sand...Monster Teen spent the entire day out in the waves either body surfing or with his boogie board and Troll Toddler was fearless as he plunged head first into the waves.&lt;br /&gt;
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Today was a gift that I will cherish forever.  The laughter left my stomach aching in the most wonderful way, the children&#39;s tired (and yet still happy) little faces as we bundled them back to the cars, every single adult enjoying each other&#39;s company, the most perfect waves, the humidity low and the rain clouds stayed far away until we were completely done with our day.  How could you not enjoy such a day?!  I certainly couldn&#39;t imagine not doing so...I loved the time that I spent with my favorite red headed nephews, gorgeously blonde niece and the rest of the family!&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m hoping that the pictures everyone took with my camera, as it was passed around from person to person, will help to show the love we shared today.  Because that is exactly what that type of joy is...pure, true, LOVE.  It is a love that I grew up enjoying from my own Auntie M, Mom, cousin and sister...just a small portion of the League of Extraordinary Women that has always surrounded me.  I hope that my beautiful niece, rambunctious nephews and marvelous children will remember this day as I recall so many beach days on Padre Island with my family.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/5298632563569195567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/5298632563569195567?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/5298632563569195567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/5298632563569195567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/06/purest-form-of-love-is-joy.html' title='The Purest Form of Love is Joy'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-2532283565388063562</id><published>2011-06-13T17:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T17:50:47.767-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="acceptance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ADHD"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recovery"/><title type='text'>Acceptance And ADD/ADHD</title><content type='html'>I took a few days away from writing to enjoy family time and to ponder a something that had recently occurred.  I&#39;ve often felt that my mind didn&#39;t work “right”, as I&#39;m sure you&#39;ve been able to tell from the previous posts, but it wasn&#39;t until adulthood that I had started to suspect the real cause of many of my problems.  The dreaded words played around and around in my head repeatedly for many years.  Only increasing with my son&#39;s own diagnosis...Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, more commonly refferred to as ADHD.&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;ve struggled against the possible diagnosis for years now and laughingly called my lack of attention or sudden flighty behaviors, my “ooooh shiny moments”.  As I&#39;ve aged there has been a stigma around the diagnosis, one that caused me to desperately reach for other options for my behavior, but none has ever really made as much sense as Adult ADD.  People around me have had a hard time with my lack of focus on conversations, sudden change of topics, need for “background noise”, jumping from one person to another as thoughts occurred to me, and my high energy.  Many don&#39;t understand when you say the words ADD because they believe that old stigma: It&#39;s not a real disorder.&lt;br /&gt;
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It is extremely difficult for anyone who has not seen the disorder in action or experienced for themselves to fully understand.  We seem like airheaded, lazy, unreliable people who are given to moments of manic behavior...and a lot of that can be true, but it&#39;s not the whole truth.  Many of us are brilliant in the arts, mathematics and science.  We learn things that interest us at great speed and often refuse to give up on a problem that plagues us long after everyone else has walked away from it.  But, like all humans, we are troubled by our fair share in life as well...If our disorder is left untreated we are prone to anxiety, depression and/or addiction at an alarming rate.&lt;br /&gt;
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All of this has been known to me and although I continuously denied the reality around me, laughingly calling out the diagnosis, I researched it and tried to understand how to learn to do things “correctly”.  It wasn&#39;t until last week when my husband came to me with light in his eyes and the words, “I finally get it! I understand yours and MonsterTeen&#39;s ADD!” that I finally let it all sink in.&lt;br /&gt;
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He had been talking with one of the doctors at the university where he is part of an IT team, the topic the doctor was discussing with a colleague being ADD, Duckie tuned in with great interest.  He jokingly referred to my ability to watch TV, play a game, text, and IM all at the same time (and not losing track of where I was in any of those activities).  The doctor explained it to Duckie in a way that finally helped him to reason through our differences and help me to accept who I am.  “Their brains process at a higher rate than the average human mind,” he explained. “They need more stimuli to achieve a constant rate of thought.”  I know, a “duh” moment if ever there was one, but broken down in such a way, coming from someone else, it finally made sense to Duckie.&lt;br /&gt;
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He&#39;s not lamenting at my constant activity anymore, questioning why I can&#39;t just sit still for 5 minutes, he&#39;s relaxed and accepting of my oddities.  By talking about it, putting it out in the open, it became less of an issue for us both.  After 15 years together we are still constantly finding new ways to not only surprise one another, but accept each other as well. I am unbelievably grateful to the universe for leading us together.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/2532283565388063562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/2532283565388063562?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2532283565388063562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/2532283565388063562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/06/acceptance-and-addadhd.html' title='Acceptance And ADD/ADHD'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-1942946018639655685</id><published>2011-06-09T09:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T09:40:19.177-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="control"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recovery"/><title type='text'>Recovering An Attitude That Was Lost</title><content type='html'>Friendship has always been intriguing to me.  We often are lead to people who have the same interests, humor or attitude about life, but every once in a while we attract someone who is completely different than ourselves and have a great time.  Like any relationship, friendships take time, patience and good communication to work.  I&#39;ve made friends around the world through the years, some I&#39;ve held on to and others I&#39;ve let slip away as our paths have separated, our attitudes changed.  The ones that I&#39;ve kept in my life have proven to be some of the most unique individuals on this earth and constantly keep me guessing at what will come next.&lt;br /&gt;
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I like the unusual...if I know what to expect for too long, it can become boring to my overly Gemini self.  There are some routines that comfort me, but they are usually doing the same thing with different results each time.  Much like the people in my life, it stays the same at the core, but the topics change regularly.  Sometimes it ends up messy, disorganized, but most of the time it&#39;s interesting to watch the layers change, shift, grow into something/someone both new to me and yet, familiar.&lt;br /&gt;
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Over the last few years, I&#39;ve accumulated a few of these kinds of friendships online.  Maybe never actually meeting the person face to face, but enjoying their random hilarity through emails, I.M.s, or status messages.  I&#39;ve found it easier to be myself among this hodgepodge band of misfits, wierdos and geeks  that have accepted my unique craziness as much as I&#39;ve accepted theirs.  Never agreeing completely with them, but always enjoying their perspectives on life, the universe and everything.&lt;br /&gt;
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That is what makes it truly worthwhile, being able to agree to disagree...never harboring ill will towards someone just because they believe differently than you do.  I&#39;ve lived most of my life with this as my main principle...it&#39;s really the old Golden Rule way of thinking; “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” “Do what you will, an it harm none.” “Live and Let Live.”  I had fallen out of practice with it in recent years with some of the people closest to me, but with learning to truly let go of my willfullness towards others, the feeling of “control”, I have found that relationships are blossoming all around me.&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m enjoying the company of people that I hadn&#39;t gotten along with in years, just by accepting that they&#39;re entitled to what they think/feel/do in life.  I don&#39;t have to agree with it, I don&#39;t have to like it, but I sure don&#39;t have to react to it either.  I&#39;ve found myself laughing at things that used to drive me up a wall, loving instead of allowing negativity into myself, and using the best phrase ever (“You may be right.”) to diffuse situations that I would have fought to the bitter end on before.  As I let go of my “controlling” behaviors and step back from ducked-upitude, life becomes easier, simpler...I see a person within me that I like and friendships popping up all around.&lt;br /&gt;
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It&#39;s amazing what just a little change in attitude can do for oneself.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/1942946018639655685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/1942946018639655685?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/1942946018639655685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/1942946018639655685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/06/recovering-attitude-that-was-lost.html' title='Recovering An Attitude That Was Lost'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-1401013570016728464</id><published>2011-06-06T23:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T23:09:25.867-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking Through The Fear</title><content type='html'>As I do on most Mondays, I accompanied my husband the his meeting and as I often am, I found myself surprised at what I learned tonight.  The meeting dealt with a story in their Big Book about overcoming fear and there were parts of it that resonated with me greatly.  &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;Fears, both large and small, have been a significant part of my adult life.  I worried to the point of agitation over anything and everything.  Somewhere along the way it turned to anxiety and then progressed to panic.  Most of the time it manifested as nothing more than serious stomach trouble, but as I got older the stomach trouble was often combined with either an anxiety or panic attack.  As I listened to the story being read I heard part of my own in the words about how fear transformed this once reasonable person into someone who was fearful almost to the point of reclusiveness.  His path diverged from mine when he started to use alcohol as means to just walk through life and appear “normal” and I chose to fight mine with every fiber of my being.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;I pushed past each attack with a ferocity that I didn&#39;t really feel and the elation that I felt upon achieving my goal was similar to this person&#39;s when they had reached theirs.  I did very well with most of the mundane things and only continued having problems in the truly high stress moments of my life.  When I started practicing my old pattern of avoidance my life once again was lost to the fear, though.  I&#39;m striking back again.  Working my way back to myself...that seems to be the subject of my posts each day, doesn&#39;t it?  Remaking myself into someone better...this time, as opposed to the past, I&#39;m doing it for myself; and that&#39;s added a new aspect to my fear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;What if what I become isn&#39;t what the people around me expect, desire or will even like?  What if people turn away from this shiny new woman? What if...What if...What if...I spiral down that well and it leads to self-doubt that drives me away from my purpose.  I&#39;m learning to squelch those voices from the broken edit button...driving them out of the dark recesses of my mind.  This time is different...I&#39;ve learned to ask for help and I&#39;m working on becoming the best version of the real me.  I&#39;m working to develop friendships instead of pushing people aside out of the fear of rejection.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;As I sat through the meeting I listened intently and found myself recalling a passage from a book that I&#39;d read long ago.  One of it&#39;s movie versions was a favorite of my dad&#39;s when he married my mom (this would be my step-dad who&#39;s more truly my dad than any DNA could ever say otherwise) and I had become intrigued by it&#39;s strangeness...I read the book to better understand it and was carried away by this one passage.  It&#39;s funny that it came up after being forgotten for so long.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;*“&lt;i&gt;I must not fear.  Fear is the mind-killer.  Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.  I will face my fear.  I will permit it to pass over me and through me.  And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.  Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.  Only I will remain.”  &lt;/i&gt;I think I&#39;ll be using that with the Serenity Prayer for a while...it seems oddly fitting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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*&lt;i&gt; --Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear - From Frank Herbert&#39;s Dune Book Series &lt;/i&gt;© 1965 and 1984 Frank Herbert  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/1401013570016728464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/1401013570016728464?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/1401013570016728464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/1401013570016728464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/06/walking-through-fear.html' title='Walking Through The Fear'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4255701445243830570.post-7047766583455777925</id><published>2011-06-03T12:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T12:59:53.801-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Education on Communication</title><content type='html'>One of the things I am best known for is how talkative I can be.  For as long as I can remember I&#39;ve been a motor-mouth of epic proportions, but in all of that talking I wasn&#39;t very good at communicating.  I could tell you a 15 minute story about something inane, but would never even dream of saying that I preferred to go to Olive Garden instead of Red Lobster.  I just didn&#39;t want to hurt anyone&#39;s feelings by going against what they wanted. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;It&#39;s part of the Curse of the People Pleasers...we do anything for everyone else, even at the expense of ourselves.  A lot of the time we please people to the point of exhaustion, anger and/or sadness.  Some of us don&#39;t even know that&#39;s what has caused the pain we are feeling, we honestly have done it for so long that it&#39;s no longer a conscious thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;A year ago I started on the Path of Recovery and started looking within myself to see what could be done with &lt;b&gt;me&lt;/b&gt; instead of everyone else.  It&#39;s not always easy to focus on myself, the Curse is strong with this one, but as I grasp the fact that I do not have any control over anyone else, including their happiness, I also learn that it&#39;s okay for me to do the things that &lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt; like to do, too.  This has led to even further enlightenment in the realm of communication.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;As I start to speak up, I&#39;ve noticed that my inane talking has lessened.  I don&#39;t feel the need to gibber-jabber about nothing at all because I&#39;m saying what really needs to be said more frequently.  I&#39;m less frustrated, happier with myself and that has brought about changes in the way that people around me are dealing with me.  Less frustration also means that the harmful, hateful things that erupted from me on occasion aren&#39;t escaping as often either.  Because it&#39;s not just about learning to speak up, it&#39;s also learning when to stay silent.  Not the angry silence, though...you know the kind that permeates the air around you to the point that it is tangible.  No, this silence is an accepting one...allowing myself to accept that the people around me have the right to their feelings just as much as I do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;Now don&#39;t let this make you think it&#39;s been easy...it&#39;s not.  You don&#39;t change a lifetime&#39;s bad habit over night.  I must have vigilance and frequent reminders of what I have learned.  It takes trust that there is &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;Someone greater than myself who will take care of all of those little (and sometimes big) things that I am not in power of.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;So I continue going to meetings, striving to better myself and become the woman I know I can be and then I sit back and watch the relationships that had grown so broken start to heal.  I&#39;m laughing more often and enjoying people who used to pluck my very last nerve...because when I stop trying to control the world around me, realize that it can and will keep going without my input on every little thing, it becomes a much easier place to live.&amp;nbsp; And THAT is worth every ounce of work I&#39;ve put into it.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/feeds/7047766583455777925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4255701445243830570/7047766583455777925?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/7047766583455777925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4255701445243830570/posts/default/7047766583455777925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allduckedup.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-education-on-communication.html' title='My Education on Communication'/><author><name>All Ducked Up</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07660456692872216792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLdw0RBJxiAhZm9VpkSrfE9QbN7oRJsDR92A3X0pVI_5gjLdA9kW4D5aEuQ9fp8hUmjXXqKghQYHGvasW0i2uV6KO_oGh1hkftINQu97-d-fkzETo7wHd6n-v-Nohbg/s220/SNADU4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>