<?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-1511294377308881439</id><updated>2024-09-02T04:41:42.647-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Beetle Butts</title><subtitle type='html'>God; Love; Life Experiences; Helping as a Spiritual Gift; Humor???; Sobriety; Cleaning as a Religion; Gardening for Fun and Food; Home Improvements; Natural Science; Writing; and of course World Peace!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-7061119025378453459</id><published>2012-06-22T21:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-22T21:38:39.694-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Mr. Bat</title><content type='html'>The story just had a happy ending.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you are reading this Mr. Bat please know how grateful I am that neither of us got hurt at all. Actually, it was really nice meeting you and I pray you find lots of bugs to eat tonight back out in the great outdoors.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/7061119025378453459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/06/goodbye-mr-bat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/7061119025378453459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/7061119025378453459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/06/goodbye-mr-bat.html' title='Goodbye Mr. Bat'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-1107524075465711826</id><published>2012-06-22T11:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-22T11:33:24.035-04:00</updated><title type='text'>wud? whaa? what???</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;I woke up little by little sometime just before four this morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think I was dreaming I was in the barn and was afraid of a barn  swallow. I was asking myself, &quot;why are you feeling fear, it is just a  barn swallow?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
as seconds went by I realized I was now awake listening to an odd sound&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
... I realized it was here in my room&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
... I realized it was loud and HAD to be wings flapping, definitely not an insect&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
... I began to be able to track the sound in the dark, it was traveling  across the room in a blink, sometimes hitting the wall, but mostly not.  When it got close to the wall the wing speed picked up. I could not  remember a bird being able to avoid walls, particularly in a pitch black  room.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/1107524075465711826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/06/wud-whaa-what.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/1107524075465711826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/1107524075465711826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/06/wud-whaa-what.html' title='wud? whaa? what???'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-1552825103898699876</id><published>2012-04-15T10:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-15T10:47:29.868-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spit</title><content type='html'>When I was way younger, I lived in a row home, one that was very small. I did not know anything else, so I thought this was how everyone lived, except in books.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My neighborhood was filled with other homes of the same size. A short two block walk would take you passed dozens of other families. Things were different back then; all the families knew each other by name.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The stores were different too. Twas not until I was somewhat older that a &#39;supermarket&#39; opened about two blocks away. So there were many, many stores instead. There was a grocery store less than half a block from my house. The owners lived above it. Two blocks over was the business district, about a mile of stores on the same street. Each store was not much bigger than my home as they were just converted row houses.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Each product you needed came from a different store. The butcher; the poultry store; shoe stores; clothing stores; five and dime stores; a vegetable store; the fish store; etc.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was a candy shop somewhere in there. I was rarely in that store. Any candy I ever ate came from Bill&#39;s, the grocery store on my own street. I often/ always went with my mom to the business district and what made the candy store memorable was the large drum that sat outside it on the pavement in front of the store&#39;s glass display window. It was shaped like the detachable drum of the pencil sharpeners of the time. only about ten times my size.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The purpose of the drum makes it memorable for a different reason. It was used for roasting seeds. We called them Polly seeds, you know them as Sunflower seeds. When they were cooking the entire neighborhood smelled delicious. Many times my brother or sister would bring some home and I got to share. They must of only bought them warm somehow, because that is what I remember most.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I was young, my son, Shane played little league. I will not go into how incredibly great he was, both all around and as a pitcher. You will think I am just another proud dad bragging anyway.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I saw most of his games.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was a point when he and his teammates began eating Sunflower seeds. The professionals must have noticed this because suddenly major league ball players started copying them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
More recently, I decided to buy some Sunflower seeds at Walmart. Strangely, Walmart only had two brand, both in huge pound bags. They did not have any of the exotic flavors either.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I thought a pound was a lot. I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The first ones I bought were a brand called David&#39;s. Their slogan is &quot;Eat, Spit; Be Happy&quot;. To which I now say amen!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is a place you go while consuming these things. A meditative trance. Thankfully, these little kernels are good for you because you cannot stop eating them once you start.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Walmart was frequently OUT OF STOCK. This feels like being out of heroin or something. Being now addicted I think I understood WHY they were often sold out. Other addicts were buying ALL of them just in case.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is a bright side to this nightmare. I was at the store two weeks ago and Walmart was only out of David&#39;s. So I bought the other brand, called Spitz.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The purpose of this rambling post is to recommend Spitz to anyone and everyone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Buy some Spitz, I promise you will not regret it, except for the addition part and the possible lack of supply making you quite sad some days.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Spitz has only three ingredients; Sunflower seeds, salt and OLIVE OIL!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&#39;Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/1552825103898699876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/04/spit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/1552825103898699876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/1552825103898699876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/04/spit.html' title='Spit'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-6821990063355430320</id><published>2012-02-03T06:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T07:06:31.724-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Security</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time, I was taking many tests designed to expose my character; each designed to reveal a facet of who I am.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One test was about the strengths and weaknesses of daily life for me. What I remember is that I scored well in everything except security of my environment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For nearly the last three years I have lived in a different environment, one that as a whole is very secure. Having spent the better part of five decades needing to be hyper aware of hazards and dangers from scores of people and threats on a daily basis. I awake every day feeling happy and thankful. I am surrounded by peace. If I desired chaos I would have to travel very far.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yet...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
in the midst of peace there is still trouble. That trouble is me. While I am certainly more relaxed, it is something that does not come naturally. I find that I carry with me unwelcome anxiety. If is as if I once learned a certain dance and find myself involuntarily using those steps.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Plus, I am not easy to get along with, nor understand. Try as I might, I do things wrong sometimes. The layers of my mental defenses are designed to keep me out. It is a struggle to just become aware of the problem(s) that prevent me from loving others well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the midst of idyllic surrounds, there is still me to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank God for Kim. While I think she asks way too many questions, those questions often lead me back to self reflection. She has ever been a part of my growth. Every one should have a Kim.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It seems as if life has always blessed me. God has taken care of me and provided. Kim is certainly part of the current process. O, for a thousand tongues to sing...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
... the thankfulness I feel.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yet...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
somehow I am perceived as never expressing gratitude. This is laziness on my part. I assume God knows how I feel about Him and His grace towards me. This failing is even worse in my relationships with people.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, thank you Kim. This small testimony of your value is not nearly enough. But please accept it. I can only hope that it is a starting point; that I will not quickly forget and get distracted as I so often do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love, once created, never goes away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/6821990063355430320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/02/security.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/6821990063355430320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/6821990063355430320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/02/security.html' title='Security'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-2792325894433133148</id><published>2012-01-19T10:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T10:43:37.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Then I Get on My Knees and pray... We Won&#39;t Be Fooled Again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Okay... (sharpening metaphorical pencil)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt;Just  now, politicians can no longer support SOPA because we have spoken loud and clear against it. (high five!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt; HOWEVER!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt; [waits for cheering to quiet] However, money talks as they say and the creators and supporters of the bill have money. More importantly they still have desire. We must ask ourselves, what it truly is that they desire. &quot;Piracy&quot; was just a buzz word. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt;SOPA is also just a  word representing a bill, a static event.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt; We can be absolutely certain  that the powers that supported the creation of SOPA with money, time and  cronyism in politics COULD CARE LESS T&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;HAT  WE ROSE UP AND WERE HEARD!!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;They have not gone away beaten. They have  not thrown up their hands in defeat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt; PLEASE hear what I am saying. More importantly, understand it. May God grant me words that are true, understandable and motivating. I feel humbled by the importance of what is at stake.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is zero chance that there is not a back up plan to SOPA. Only SOPA has been taken from them, not the will to accomplish their goal. If I were the enemy, I would begin passing smaller chunks of the same type of legislation, piece by piece. Time is on their side as they have one target, the Internet. They have only to destroy it once; there is no second chance for us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt; THEY crave this destruction- they have  politicians in their pockets already is evidenced by how close they  almost came this time to not just stopping progress online; not just  removing the value it has added to my life, your life and world; not  just bringing unwanted destruction to what exists, BUT INSURING THAT OUR  CHILDREN NEVER KNOW HOW GREAT THE INTERNET IS, CAN BE, ETC.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They crave darkness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;Why?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;I do not know the details but am sure of this- their future intent is evil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt; They need&amp;nbsp; the sharing of knowledge and opinions to cease. Because of this the Internet is especially heinous to them. This is the place where knowledge is EASY to  OBTAIN and VERIFY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class=&quot;uiStreamMessage&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;messageBody&quot; data-ft=&quot;{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt; Knowledge being AVAILABLE TO ALL with no restriction is called FREEDOM! Such sharing is vital to a life of liberty and happiness. The Internet takes the pursuit of truth to levels that have never before in history been attainable. No one can control information while the internet exist as the ultimate trump card.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Piracy&quot;??? It is to laugh. They tried to hoist that flag. The trade off was stopping piracy by KILLING THE MEDIUM OF TRUTH. Even those who have been harmed by piracy did not salute.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not exactly equal. Hence it is evident that lessening piracy was not the true goal. Beside which stopping piracy with legislation is akin to Prohibition or the War on Drugs- Failure on steroids- Pandora&#39;s box being opened.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Which leads one to speculate what is the real intent??? (note that I did not say &#39;was&#39;) This must be clearly understood for us to win. I honestly do not understand and that is dangerous weapon they still own. I do not even quite know who &#39;they&#39; are. Shame on me, shame on us, look what nearly resulted. Remember that the game has just begun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
High fives are appropriate just now. Politicians are distancing  themselves from this legislation and that is a positive occurrence.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let each resounding smacking of flesh (the high fives, not the movie), be a reminder that one battle does not win a war.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That said, it is comforting to know that we still have the Internet  available in all it raw and powerful beauty to use to fight this fight  together!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
God Bless.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/2792325894433133148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/01/then-i-get-on-my-knees-and-pray-we-wont.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/2792325894433133148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/2792325894433133148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/01/then-i-get-on-my-knees-and-pray-we-wont.html' title='Then I Get on My Knees and pray... We Won&#39;t Be Fooled Again!'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-6775322375963141162</id><published>2012-01-19T07:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T07:59:40.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When Godliness is Really Neurosis</title><content type='html'>When Godliness is Really Neurosis...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
run with it to the nearest eternal bank.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/6775322375963141162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/01/when-godliness-is-really-neurosis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/6775322375963141162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/6775322375963141162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/01/when-godliness-is-really-neurosis.html' title='When Godliness is Really Neurosis'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-4692411378154338200</id><published>2012-01-12T11:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-12T11:04:32.667-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sponges</title><content type='html'>S&#39;prolly been a long, long time (if ever) since you read the purposes (plural) of this blog. The list is found under the title of the blog, Baby Beetle Butts.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One is &#39;cleaning as a religion&#39;. There actually is such a thing. I saw it in Mother Earth news, so it has to be true! They have gift subscriptions for $10 a year, just saying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have a very, very specific topic for today&#39;s rambling but readable article. This topic has been burning to be written about for months now. At last all the data is accumulated; I have done my due diligence and the results have been carved in stone (out in the back yard).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here goes...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My kitchen sink sponge has two parts, the second being a stiff plastic weave that is safe for scraping non stick surfaces on cookware.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[You can run away now, don&#39;t say I did not warn you!]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That scrubber was costing us money in the form of trashing and replacing sponges much too fast.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My brain wanted to know why.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now I know, not just in the theoretical sense.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Number one, if you use it to scrap stuck on cheese, you are screwed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Stuck on cheese needs to be rubbed and rubbed with the SPONGE SIDE ONLY!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[I told you to run, it may be too late now.]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once cheese is stuck in the scrapping side, it is just a matter of time. It is hard to get any out of there. Impossible to get all of it. The smell will become quite noticeable in a day or two.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Eggs are a separate issue. COLD WATER ONLY. Use the sponge side ONLY, unless, of course you love spending extra time cleaning it all back out of the WRONG SIDE OF THE SPONGE.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then, of course there is the matter of hydration, more to the point re-hydration. In layman&#39;s terms (the cleaning atheists amongst you) (convert NOW!!!), dry, stuck food is easier to clean if you soak the item for a while or overnight before washing. This is very important if you have a cheese project. Ps- if soaking fails, try dehydration instead. Stuff that is really stuck will shrink. For example, a cookie sheet with a burned little bump may just wash off. If not, soak it, it should then wash right off. If not, stop scrubbing and let it dry. This will require patience, check it once in a while. When fully dry it should practically fall off. If you are in a hurry, perhaps need to use it again, put it is a low temp oven for just a bit and then let it cool. If it comes to it, scrape it off with a heavy wooden cooking tool. Do not use metal.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[I think you underestimated how fast you should RUN]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Where was I? Oh yeah... &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Finally, the MAJOR CAUSE OF SMELLY SPONGE REVELED!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is one super special secret- Always put your sponge down with the scrapper side facing DOWN. This is counter intuitive. [no, I am not carrying you out of here, you should have run while you had the chance]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is moisture on the sponge. Personally, I have hands that are stronger than weaker and have always squeeeeeezed my sponge when I was done. Did not, does not help- at all. By not helpful I mean that squeezing will not, can not prevent the SMELLY SPONGE SYNDROME.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Instead, the moisture must be allowed to drain down towards the scrapper, not down into the sponge part.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So simple.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do this religiously and you will never have to buy another sponge. Um, perhaps this is not technically the case. Hint, disinfect your sponge once in a while, not by putting it in the dishwasher. Just spray it with some form of Lysol or soak in some bleach solution. Best yet, spray with some vinegar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[Still with me?] [Why do I hear crickets?]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Keep your sponge the correct way up, sponge up, scrapper down. Make gravity and the physical properties of water (two incredible and FREE tools) work for you rather than against you!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do this religiously!!! (convert now, now, now... )&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Believe your sponge can last forever and it will. This could possible save you millions of dollars a year, depends on how much you use your sponge.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At minimum, your life will be much happier, you may even dance.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It happened to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have been smelly sponge free for 30 days now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My name is Bobby.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/4692411378154338200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/01/sponges.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4692411378154338200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4692411378154338200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/01/sponges.html' title='Sponges'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-4737424117324184804</id><published>2012-01-08T12:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T12:15:56.925-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just for Today</title><content type='html'>It is early yet. There is a while to go until midnight/ Monday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Francis of Assisi and his friends took only what they could carry on their back and LIVED THAT WAY. Each new day was a new adventure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Walden&#39;s Pond writer and Revolutionary era patriot, Henry Thoreau believed it was not those that left behind big structures (for us to find centuries or millennium later), rather those who left no sign of having existed, that had TRULY LIVED.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His point being that life is about thinking, having time to think and enjoy life. To do this you must think of physical necessities as being nearly free to obtain. Also that every necessity is related to heat energy. For example, food is measured in calories, yes?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thoreau said he was surprised how addicting growing beans became. He estimated he was up to nine miles of planted rows. He also said that by his calculations the BEST thing to grow was barley rather than wheat or corn.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Barley is DELICIOUS by the way, and as easy to prepare as boiling water. When is the last time you had some? Could you find it at the market where you shop? When you finally do find it; you will be astounded by the small amount of shelf space it is allotted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Francis?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He said this...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Prayed these words...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Documented his prayer...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank God, because they are GREAT.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Make Me an Instrument  of Your Peace &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.&lt;br /&gt;
Where  there is hatred, let me sow love,&lt;br /&gt;
Where there is injury, pardon&lt;br /&gt;
Where  there is doubt, faith,&lt;br /&gt;
Where there is despair, hope,&lt;br /&gt;
Where there is darkness,  light,&lt;br /&gt;
Where there is sadness, joy.&lt;br /&gt;
O Divine Master, grant that I may  not so much&lt;br /&gt;
seek to be consoled as to console,&lt;br /&gt;
not so much to be understood  as to understand,&lt;br /&gt;
not so much to be loved, as to love;&lt;br /&gt;
for it is in giving  that we receive,&lt;br /&gt;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,&lt;br /&gt;
it is in dying  that we awake to eternal life.&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/4737424117324184804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/01/just-for-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4737424117324184804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4737424117324184804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/01/just-for-today.html' title='Just for Today'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-3113988102397496276</id><published>2012-01-06T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2018-01-08T16:25:38.122-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain Damage</title><content type='html'>[I was a drop down drunk, but only briefly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thankfully, because of the brevity, I do not live with many of the harmful and permanent affects that typical sober people suffer from. I had a full health physical just after becoming sober. The doctor seemed pleasantly surprised that testing showed no liver damage.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The only exception that I am aware of is a diminished instant memory. This was explained to me by the same psychologist who prescribed Seroquel for my inability to normally recover from anxiety. Little things would keep me in a fetal position for hours and hours. That condition slowly improved, my missing immediate memory has not yet returned.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is NOT the same as short term memory loss. In fact, (this is a strange phenomenon that happens to me) if I wait a bit, sometimes a memory will come back (I suppose as it crosses into short term). Sort of like a scrolling news ticker, info scrolls by and is immediately gone, but when you wait a bit and the data returns.]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Speaking of memory weakness---&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Picture me developing a strategy for a work project. Our minds have the capacity to scribble notes, just like doing it on paper with a pencil or pen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While these imaginary paper notes (for most people) are permanent and easily referred to as needed, my gray matter medium is much more like a chalkboard.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will scribble notes on my mental chalkboard until I arrive at an reasonable understanding of the task. I am working backwards from the ultimate goal until I reach the most efficient method in a reverse linear format. This is good engineering.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then, the most vital part becomes how it would be best to start the project. This last piece becomes the first step. Again, good engineering.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A simple example, clearing a particular space in a certain area because I will need it for materials or tools. One thing I might put on the chalkboard is all the characteristics of what is currently in the area and options on places they could best be moved to. That task would be one of many that comprise a subset of goals that are achievable &lt;b&gt;first&lt;/b&gt; and achievable &lt;b&gt;now&lt;/b&gt; (assuming I am starting now).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So far I am performing like many others. Nothing notable, but then...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My chalk board keeps only that portion (last thought, first action) of the whole- the smaller, achievable set of starting tasks along the road to the bigger goal. All the thoughts (mental notations) that went into arriving at understanding why this is so somehow and for some reason has been lost to my mind. Maybe I am crawling across it as I notate? There is just nothing left. Of course, I have the ability to recreate the same thing over again, but that is not the same as simply checking the notes I have already mentally written.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Remember the normal metaphor? When thoughts are on paper it is easy to examine HOW and WHY you have started where you have started. All I have is a bunch of mangled chalk dust!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not for me! If asked why I am doing something, I draw a complete blank. Worse yet, since I am not adverse to answering the questioner, I become like a circular code spinning in place. There is no answer to the question in my mind. It was there once upon a time. I become frustrated thinking whether it is important to regenerate all that data from zero. I did the calculations, did my due diligence (double and triple checking the thoughts/ work) and am quite sure that there are REALLY GOOD REASONS for what I am doing just now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Only...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have no idea what they are any longer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
An interesting metaphor that follows is that sometimes there are interruptions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Generally, I emotionally desire to get back to what I was last doing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The chalkboard in my head is still clear for me to read (just the next steps remember).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The message on it is vulnerable.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After too long there will be another chalkboard with another message.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They seem to get stacked in a pile in my head. The lower in the stack a board is, the more likely the message has degraded. Eventually, what is there is undecipherable.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All in all, this condition presents a challenge to me. It can be fun, like doing a puzzle. For others that deal with me, meh, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One great advantage is that it is additional motivation to stay honest and true. If I always give my best effort, if I am always willing to do things the &#39;good&#39; way, then I feel free. I do not have to rely on my memory at all. The calculating of my brain was done with good intent. It is like an anchor. Since I cannot explain why I am doing this or that, I is important to know that my intent is pure. What I am doing in spirit always has to be Right. So be it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
From this odd symptom generated by a weakness, I have accidentally found peace, at least of piece of the puzzle to build soulful peace. My days are productive. I take joy in helping others.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/3113988102397496276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/01/brain-damage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/3113988102397496276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/3113988102397496276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2012/01/brain-damage.html' title='Brain Damage'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-3430585820344406254</id><published>2011-12-16T14:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T14:14:02.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fly with the Eagles</title><content type='html'>Not the football team. Though they are the only sports team I care about.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The eagles in the sky. Onwards and Upwards. Perspective from above the mountain top. We can and we should have and use this ability. I suppose you could simply call it faith.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Faith that can move mountains. Faith that can remove obstacles and fling them into the sea. I believe in this with all my heart and soul and mind. Sure I get worried, but not for long. I suffer waiting for the inevitable move by God that is ever and always a blessed surprise.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Better than any Christ mas gift. That should not offend any gift giver. Those are super duper too, just can never be at the level of knowing Our Father is our Sheppard and He carries a REALLY BIG STICK.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Early bright blessings for a wonderful Christ mas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/3430585820344406254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/12/fly-with-eagles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/3430585820344406254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/3430585820344406254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/12/fly-with-eagles.html' title='Fly with the Eagles'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-6212437093068983877</id><published>2011-12-15T07:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T07:06:27.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Up Early</title><content type='html'>Today I am up early for the first time in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have been through a lot lately. Stopped taking Seroquel, for example. Was using a quarter of a quarter of a dose to facilitate sleep. The first couple nights my mind was racing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For months I was using nicotine patches, quitting smoking was a failure this time around.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have been highly emotional, mainly tears. Tears are good, they wash away the old and help you see the future.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When it comes, that is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My PA driver&#39;s license is due to expire soon. Need a replacement for my SS card too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I received a fifty dollar holiday bonus from my job. What is weird is that I hardly made more than that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?&quot; Still do not know the answer. Will let you know as soon as I puzzle it out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks for playing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/6212437093068983877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/12/up-early.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/6212437093068983877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/6212437093068983877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/12/up-early.html' title='Up Early'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-7235873220284581562</id><published>2011-06-24T10:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T10:26:50.471-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Inside Depression</title><content type='html'>Fear and anger, most would agree are negative emotions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In fighting against depression lo these many years, I have had the chance to develop some data about this state of being. Besides being painful, depression is mysterious and puzzling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Currently I am attempting once again to go without traditional antidepressant medication. For many months I was okay. That has happened before. There have also been times where I stopped the medication and quickly deteriorated.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These on again, off again experiences are what I am referring to as developing data.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will not go into all the things I have discovered, just my latest finding.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As depression begins there is a noticeable change in the way I think. The difference is in quality. My mind while not depressed seems quicker and more powerful. I enjoy whatever I may be doing because I am enjoying how my mind is functioning. I am in the moment. I am planning and executing and producing. This can keep me amused for hours, days, weeks. It is fun to be me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As depression begins, there seems to be a dullness in my thinking. I am not enjoying anything, just trying to get done. What I do does not seem to get done very well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What I have heard is that certain chemicals in the brain are necessary for proper brain function. The brain is made up of a vast number of nerves that are not physically connected. There needs to be a medium through which impulses can be sent from one nerve to another. In simple terms, the medium can be thought of as liquid. When there is sufficient or abundant fluid, the nerves can communicate well. Lacking enough liquid medium to function properly is the reason depression can happen. Antidepressants correct this condition of dryness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What I have just recently noticed is that depression starts with an emotion very much like fear. There is also an element of anger as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think that goes hand and hand with no longer enjoying thinking and planning and producing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It causes fear because what was easy is now hard. Not just hard, but unavailable, gone. How I deal with life, what I do each day, who I am is GONE. This scares me. It also makes me angry. I want my mojo back!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The pain that accompanies depression seems to be composed entirely of fear and anger. These emotions are not tied to real life. Therein lies the mysterious nature of depression. It just does not make sense, nothing adds up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know I am not functioning properly. I am afraid and angry. Mystery solved?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I should mention that there is an alternative to antidepressants. It is supplement call 5HTP. It produces brain chemicals that help. There is reportedly a down side. This go round I am trying not to take it every day, only as needed. Up until recently that was working perfectly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am hoping my body will heal itself. Whatever causes my brain to dry up needs to go. Can it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One other side note: in reading about different characters from history, so many have this same condition. When the person is from the far past, they simply become bed ridden for months at periods during their lives. Apparently, being able to think quickly, deeply and powerfully can cause major problems.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/7235873220284581562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/06/inside-depression.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/7235873220284581562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/7235873220284581562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/06/inside-depression.html' title='Inside Depression'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-3462396783351168289</id><published>2011-06-22T09:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T09:41:16.387-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Need to Lie</title><content type='html'>Have you been there? Reality is about to smack you. The desire is so strong to change reality to a more friendly modality. Add a pinch of fear and the truth becomes something one must deny.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is common.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Less common is creating reality. Perhaps you have seen someone do this- asking for money because they need transportation to a rehab. Later when I called the rehab, I was informed that I was scammed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That happened to me long ago. Since then I have become a sober alcoholic. Part of that major change in pathway included living with and among many times many people with addictions to various types of drugs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Story after story played out before my eyes. My mind was passionately engaged because of the miracle that had happened to me. The miracle was despite knowing that I was going to die extremely drunk, in an instant I became wrong about that fate.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, I would love to tell you all the heartwarming stories that I have witnessed in the community of recovering addicts. There have been some, almost all involve alcoholics or alcoholics who were cross addicted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Meanwhile, there was another type of human I encountered. One that I did not know existed and possibly you will never see as I see them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They actually ALWAYS lie. I believe this is to keep in practice. They tell stories about being in distress nearly continuously. They are looking for &quot;help&quot;. The reality is that they want help to get something that they will not tell you about.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another trait of these particular people is anger, or at least what appears to be anger. These emotional outbursts come in the form of personal attacks on anyone who dares to bring truth. I am pretty sure these episodes are not real, but are also practiced. This serves two purposes. It discourages truth being around them by creating uncomfortable feelings and fear. There is also the chance that in ranting alternate truth in the middle of their attacks, someone or everyone might actually believe the lies.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the situations I was in, living with people with this syndrome, it was incredible to see the&amp;nbsp; beginning, middle and end of the stories. At first, I was so convinced by the liars that I argued for them with others. Finding out I was definitely wrong was staggering. Finding out I was wrong made me develop a much better bullshit detector.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later, once I was back in less unbalanced environs, my detector still worked. Now I get to see how I once was, naive.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also have a greater respect for truth itself. If everyone gave truth their best effort, we could not even scratch the surface of its wonder and beauty. That, of course, is not the world&#39;s way and it breaks my heart all the time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Back to the first statement. We all are faced with realities that make us want to lie. It is normal for these white lies to occur. So normal that it is a common theme in stories. The theme normally start with someone dedicating themselves to ALWAYS TELLING THE TRUTH. Of course, situations develop that are bad. They are caused by telling the truth and get worse. Until, the dedicated one finally gives in and lies. Yay!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Um, there is a flaw in this theme.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You do not ALWAYS need to tell the truth. The simple alternative is to not TELL anything at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You could not possibly imagine the grief I receive for this position.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Try telling anyone that there is no NEED to answer a question just because one is asked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously, try it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In fact, try to do it yourself, I dare ya!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will warn you, it can be fun. You might want to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, best of all, recognize that it gives you the ability to never lie again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
LOVE SOMEONE WELL TODAY,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/3462396783351168289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/06/need-to-lie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/3462396783351168289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/3462396783351168289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/06/need-to-lie.html' title='The Need to Lie'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-4862130642867846805</id><published>2011-06-21T09:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T09:55:03.012-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>People seem to like me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As an individual, I fit in the category of needing only a few close friends. By close I mean someone I spend face to face time as well. While I hold past relationships in high regard and am so very grateful for the time we had once spent together; I am not the type to sustain an ongoing long distance relationship very well, if at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Currently I have no close male friends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is not the first, nor the second time I have found myself in this situation. I am not very proactive about finding friends, rather I have allowed life&#39;s circumstances to determine whether anyone was near to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Before coming to WV, I had a long run where I had a close friend or two for many years straight. This was an highly unusual occurrence. It went on for so long, I believe I mistakenly took it for granted that it would continue.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I moved here, I halfheartedly assumed I would develop friends by going to meetings. I just thought that if I went enough that relationships would develop. Then I stopped going.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Out here in the country, there are neighbors. There are not many. I enjoy that. Unlike being in the city, there are very few people nearby whose name I know or come in to contact with on a casual basis.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I would presume that people out here have friends. How that dynamic exists is a mystery to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then there is another avenue that could work, if I ever tried it. Sunday-go-to-meeting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We actually did that for a short time since I have been here. We only went to the one church which, per usual, I had some doctrinal issue with. The Sunday school class was fun and I got to participate, which I loved. But the service was very dead and preaching was something I would rather not comment about.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, that was our only attempt at church. No friends developed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What next? Will I ever have a new friend here? Stay tuned.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/4862130642867846805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/06/friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4862130642867846805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4862130642867846805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/06/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-7029820068730092945</id><published>2011-06-19T10:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T10:39:56.835-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>Life can be so strange. As in, I often have a hard time believing who I am; where I am; where I&#39;ve been.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the midst of all that confusion, I have to pinch myself to believe that God allowed me the wonderful joy of being the father of two awesome children. Part of me is able to just feel the happy memories. Part of me bows before God to know that both my children far exceed their father in accomplishments and maturity.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lately I have felt a new emotion- separation anxiety. My children have built their own lives now. If I had a nest, it would be empty.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wonder too what it must be like to have me as a father. From the beginning, I tried to explain the world to them. Was that boring? Did it make sense? What made me feel at all qualified? Did anything I did or said actually make any difference? How about the negatives I brought to the table?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe you can tell that I am not feeling very strong these days. While I am often quite arrogant, that part of me is missing lately. So be it. June seems to be for me the occasion for a down cycle most years.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Meanwhile, I really want my children to know how much I love them. You wouldn&#39;t think that would be so very hard, but then you are probably not like me (I will not even attempt an explanation of what I mean).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Often words come easily to me. Expressing how I feel about my children is not one of those times. Perhaps there are no words. The thing is just too big and too important and words are just too small a container, like trying to store a mighty river in a sandwich bag. Even what the sandwich bag can hold is no longer much like the original thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So all I can do is hope. Hope they know or at least suspect the depth of my love for them. May God grant me that small mercy. It is important that they know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe it takes the skill of a poet. This is just not a skill I possess. Normally, it is not a skill I even think about. So be it. Perhaps that skill would not help anyway.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Besides, I think I probably knock together some Hallmark-y words, in fact I am sure of it. If I could write them too the level of heaven this would not equal one hug. That is what I am missing, the hugs.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/7029820068730092945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/06/life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/7029820068730092945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/7029820068730092945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/06/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-1546603993604905701</id><published>2011-05-15T12:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T12:36:30.915-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wishing</title><content type='html'>How I wish...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
what?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is the popular old story of the genie. It stirs the hearts of everyone apparently to wonder what it would be like to have three wishes fulfilled. What would you choose if anything and everything was on the table except you could not make someone be in love with you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The genie story was formed so very long ago, yet still is retold and known widely. What does the persistent retelling have to say about human nature?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Um...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In this instance the question is far more fascinating then a dull, limited answer. It is that we as humans are attached emotionally to desires we cannot seem to fulfill. While everyone is an unique individual, we all have this same emotional need to dream of things we cannot have.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So the genie overrides reality and provides the opportunity where anything is not only possible but will happen if you simply ask.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The limiting to three wishes is a stroke of artistic genius. This limit means that so much else I also wish for has to be eliminated. Paring the list down to three is impossible. It is impossible to predict what my words will bring into being. There is an ever present sense that I am forgetting something. There is the instinctive feeling that once I finish, I will wish I had made different choices.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is just a game that we enjoy playing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the midst of all this passionate longing, why do we never seem to choose the status quo?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That is my question.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope that is what I would choose.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
God has written my life story. I trust He has done it perfectly. I am very sure that I could not have done it better. In fact, I am convinced I would have done a horrible job.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I should know better than to wish. If I had the ability to control reality, I would create disaster, darkness and chaos. My best intentions would bring about destructive results. Its true. In theory I know that is the way it would be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yet. I can kick and complain with the best of us. I want things my way too, all the time. My wish list is fifty odd years long and growing every day. It is not something I can simply stop doing. While my spirit can obtain knowledge and grow and know better than to trust myself, the broken, sinful animal in me wants what it wants. Both of these beings live within me. They wrestle incessantly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is not the good Bobby wrestling with the evil Bobby within, rather it is evil in me versus surrender to God&#39;s will. The good is not in me. Good is in Him and in Him alone. This is a hard concept for many to accept. In fact, most choose to believe something quite different than this truth. They would argue with Jesus who said, &quot;Only God is good&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope I am not spoiling the game for you, wink. Trying to limit wishes to just three is entertaining and probably provides mental relief for many. It is not as if we shall ever get to make them reality. I, for one, do not really want them. The game is safe enough since it is not real, but personally I have always sucked at it. I worry about the down side of any wish I might choose. There is always the hidden, unseen cataclysm lurking behind the choice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For example, if I did the noble thing and wished for world peace, I just know that would end up bringing untold suffering into the world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If I did the selfish thing instead and wished for riches, I would bring untold suffering to myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe that is the point of the game. To make us recognize our human limitations and vision. Maybe we all are attracted to the story of the genie because it reminds us that wishing is fine as long as it does not become reality. We sense that unlimited control would bring disaster. The relief is that while wishing cannot be contained, at least we do not have to live with the consequence of their fulfillment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Meanwhile,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today (at least try)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/1546603993604905701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/05/wishing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/1546603993604905701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/1546603993604905701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/05/wishing.html' title='Wishing'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-2324266571493353652</id><published>2011-05-08T12:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T12:17:56.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom</title><content type='html'>You only get one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I miss mine tremendously. She was my best friend and biggest fan. There was a comfort there that can never be replaced. There is a hole in my mind and emotions that I live with every day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All that grief aside, I am so thankful for the mother I had. She was always there for me, always with the same obvious love for me radiating warmth through my being.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She gave me life. She kept me safe and warm and healthy. But above all this, she gave me something extra. She thought I was special. Every day. She was interested in me. She watched me and encouraged me, cheered me on and bragged about me. Because of this, I always tried to make her proud by doing my best in anything and everything. I still do, it is who I have become because of her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank you mom!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am sure God has you near to Him. Your kind of love is dear to His heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/2324266571493353652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/05/mom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/2324266571493353652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/2324266571493353652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/05/mom.html' title='Mom'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-4250069131952853610</id><published>2011-05-01T09:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T09:52:25.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weeds</title><content type='html'>Look towards God old man. Look towards God woman. Look towards God young man. Look towards God young woman.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In God you will find the tools needed to do right, to build peace; to build joy; to build love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These are tools of the mind, body and soul. They are free for the asking, free for the taking.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You would hope that once started on building goodness and light; mercy and truth, that all around you others would join in and your solo would become a heavenly choir. Many hands make light work. As a result there would be fruit enough to share in abundance.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, into this delicious music comes static, a chorus of naysaying. Jesus described it as deliberately planted weeds in your garden. He recommended allowing them to grow until the harvest and then sorting them out to be burned.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The labor of producing something of spiritual value brings happiness initially. Unlike joy, which is eternal, happiness is fleeting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happiness comes when we take a moment to focus on the growth our labors have facilitated.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Growth is all around us. As beings created in the image of God, we can choose to make a garden and choose to help certain growth and restrain other, unwanted growth. It means we must labor for the good and labor to destroy the unwanted. It means laboring with a purpose towards a goal. It means being dedicated to the tasks at hand rain or shine, in sickness or health.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I said, happiness springs from our hearts when we take a moment to focus on the difference we have made in the world. We like this feeling. It motivates us to do more.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is sometimes rough having to beat back the unwanted. Why do dumb ol&#39; weeds need to exist? Normally we would not even care. Weeds only become a negative when they impact our vision of something special.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As tough as it is to deal with this reality, imagine that an enemy deliberately plants weeds in your garden. Oh the static this causes one&#39;s brain! When you invest your time and efforts into creating a vision, you are investing yourself. Anything deliberately killing the vision is an enemy. Killing the enemy is rarely an option. Even when it is, it would bring negative consequences.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why is there always an enemy to your labors?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It makes you want to give up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, we are never to give up. The Bible says, &quot;be not weary in well doing&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We can go on, producing spiritual work, regardless of our feelings.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It would be wonderful if life was naught but happy moments. It would be wonderful if there was never any warfare. We wish for life to be different than reality. We sometime allow these thoughts to think external weeds are our only problem.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Actually, the external weeds are not our problem at all! They really do exist, but we are not responsible for their existence. What the purpose of those nasty weeds might be is not our issue either.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That the battlefield lies within ourselves...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
is what we need to acknowledge and accept.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fight the good fight...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
of faith.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Humbly, bless God, and your fellow man, remembering who we truly are and what we are made of and why we needed Christ to die for us. He did not come to save and redeem us because we were such pristine, pretty little perfect, weed free gardens, did He?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are without excuse and therefore should be without complaint.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Being without complaint could be a great definition for JOY.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I must surrender my imaginary control over all gardens external to my own being. Where I may, perchance, have some limited authority, such authority is totally granted by God through grace. Such authority is more to be translated in the current mind as &lt;i&gt;responsibility&lt;/i&gt;. I am granted the power to love, not to abuse, anything and anyone I have authority over.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Meanwhile, I ever and always have my internal garden to tend, amen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/4250069131952853610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/05/weeds.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4250069131952853610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4250069131952853610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/05/weeds.html' title='Weeds'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-5865343758206628539</id><published>2011-04-24T09:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T09:49:37.109-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Did You Go?</title><content type='html'>Jesus said, &quot;It is good for you if I go, for I will send the Spirit of Truth and He will teach you all things&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wow!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is true. If Jesus were still on the earth, what are the odds that I would even get to see Him today? The physical limits could be solved by something like a broadcast, but would that satisfy? All my favorite musicians are those whom I was in the same room with. People you have never heard of such as Chris Leggerie,&amp;nbsp; Joey DeVito, and Monteo Myers. There is so much difference being with someone as opposed to a photo or recording. A broadcast is just a live recording, no?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is true. There is not one thing I have wanted to learn that I was not taught. I am greedy. I want to know so much about everything.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That the Spirit is everywhere and ever available to teach the willing has made my life so much more beautiful. Simply being willing to learn beats student loans by miles.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of course, there is no degree at the end. At Spirit University there is no &#39;end&#39;. There is the down side of not having that sheepskin to show a potential employer, but the upside is that I can climb ever onward and upward. The world holds too many mysteries to ever stop, so why would I?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once Jesus rose from the dead, he spent some forty days meeting with a chosen few (later, He would appear to Paul which Paul called &quot;being born out of time&quot;). Fully God, fully man, Jesus had conquered the last enemy, death. His followers who witnessed his being alive were changed forever and passed that changed state of believing down through our age.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jesus was seen to ascend into clouds of judgment. There came a change in the world upon His second coming. The Chosen People became those who believed in Him with the destruction of the Temple in 70 A.D.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is why we learn- to become more productive. The power of believing in Christ taps into the power of the Spirit and the power of Almighty God. There is no limit to what we can do unless we try to appropriate power for selfish reasons.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How hard is that?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unfortunately, many do seek power to build their own kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This causes pain.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is so much love that goes ungenerated. This is not a word. But looky here what spell check suggested. Sometimes you learn things from unexpected places and at unexpected times!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;unregenerate&lt;/b&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot; style=&quot;background-color: transparent; cursor: default;&quot;&gt;not renewed in heart and mind; not reborn in spirit; unrepentant;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; refusing to believe; skeptical&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;; unconvinced; unconverted; unreconstructed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;; stubborn; obstinate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;; not reformed; wicked; profligate; dissolute&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;degenerate-&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;dnindex&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot; style=&quot;background-color: transparent; cursor: default;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;luna-Ent&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot; style=&quot;background-color: transparent; cursor: default;&quot;&gt;to&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;fall&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;below&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;a&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;normal&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;or&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot; style=&quot;background-color: transparent; cursor: default;&quot;&gt;desirable&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;level&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;in&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;physical,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;mental,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;or&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot; style=&quot;background-color: transparent; cursor: default;&quot;&gt;moral&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;qualities;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;deteriorate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot; style=&quot;background-color: transparent; cursor: default;&quot;&gt;to&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot; style=&quot;background-color: transparent; cursor: default;&quot;&gt;diminish&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot;&gt;in&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot; name=&quot;hotword&quot; onclick=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;#b5d5ff&#39;;return hotWord(this);&quot; onmouseout=&quot;this.style.backgroundColor=&#39;transparent&#39;&quot; onmouseover=&quot;this.style.cursor=&#39;default&#39;&quot; style=&quot;background-color: transparent; cursor: default;&quot;&gt;quality&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;I stole the definitions from dictionary.com and edited them into a summary form. We each know people who fit these descriptions. I was one of these. There is hope for change. All it takes is a miracle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;If we flip these words to their opposite, we get this. To rise above physically, mentally and morally, we must be reborn in spirit, renewed in heart and mind by believing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;That is so nice I will type it twice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;To rise above physically, mentally and morally, we must be reborn in spirit, renewed in heart and mind by believing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;Jesus rose from the dead, that is why this is possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;Be thankful, fully grateful. Give praise to God, who is love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;Happy Easter!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;Love someone well today,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;dndata&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ital-inline&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;hotword&quot;&gt;Bobby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/5865343758206628539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/why-did-you-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/5865343758206628539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/5865343758206628539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/why-did-you-go.html' title='Why Did You Go?'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-2168450663508486904</id><published>2011-04-21T11:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T11:50:57.253-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Music</title><content type='html'>I have a guitar again!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It has been years since I had all the pieces in place. I replaced the strings the other day on a flea market guitar we own and voila`, beautiful sounds were in the air.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe you will get to hear it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was a point since my sobriety started when I lived with two brothers who were both doctorate level musicians. Chris was also in a group I joined called Back to Basics (attempting to recreate the A.A. meetings from the 1930&#39;s. He was primarily a drummer and when he played it literally would stun me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
During that period, I found myself highly influenced by the purity of what they produced. My playing definitely got better. I wanted to play all the time. I was writing songs all the time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is strange to look back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Who I am at any particular moment seems to be so dependent on who is closest to me. Of course, there is some &#39;core&#39; Bobby that is always there, but there seems to be a part of us that reflects others too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the course of my sobriety, there have been times when I have had to reject an individual from my life. Thankfully, such occasions are rare because it is a difficult decision to make. I am guessing that most people cannot or will not ever do such a thing. That is my conclusion based on the reactions I get when I explain why I have had to reject someone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gary was the saddest story. We became close friends; he was one of the closest friends I have ever had. Over the course of years I had to witness Gary go back to being a drunk many times. Somehow I kept believing he would make it. Finally, it became something I could no longer handle. I told Gary that he was no longer my friend, nor even an acquaintance. The sorrow I was feeling was dangerous to me as a person.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think it made me grow. It was not something I would have ever imagined doing. I was always the type to just endure in spite of what it cost me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Somehow I had learned that I was entitled to be strong, to choose my own influences in life. I cannot help anyone if I am weak. Gary made me weak and the result was that not only I, but others suffered as a result of his being in my life. So it was not selfish of me to reject him. I recognized that I was not helping him. That became clear as time revealed the truth.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Snip.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Addition by subtraction.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have also learned to be very grateful for those who have a positive impact on me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have realized that the Originator deserves all the credit for positive people in my life. It is a trap to believe that I choose who to be in relationship with. It is God, after all, who caused other people to exist and it is God who causes their story and mine to intersect. In other words, I cannot just conjure them up. It is God who is ultimately writing my story. So I am aware and thankful for any blessing He brings my way in the form of certain other people.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, let me return to the title theme. I find it revealing that in writing this I quickly transitioned to using wisdom to choose relationships in one&#39;s life. Each topic is a nearly perfect metaphor for the other.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I become a better musician/ person when I have God-supplied, positive relationships. Rich fullness is added to life/ music when there is harmony. I find that as I give/ create that the right people reflect back to me; the result is that I am a beneficiary of my own giving nature. I make others stronger and better, but the process makes me stronger and better too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When there is discord, I want to endure it. Everyone suffers as a result. One bad apple can ruin your life/ band. Kicking out the bad member is difficult, but necessary for strength, health and productivity.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Within music itself there are so many variables. Variations are the natural result of being human. Add other people and there is generated an infinity number of variations within an infinite variety of combinations!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I sing, there has never been anything like it. (ha ha ha). Which instrument I choose makes a difference. My mood makes a difference both in what I might produce at a given moment and in what I feel like hearing at a given moment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
From this chaos sometimes come something beautiful. It is communication at the level of the soul.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In a strange twist, and to complicate things, just because there is harmony produced between two people does not automatically indicate a perfect combination. Life is mysterious indeed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Like music, life is not definable. It rides on invisible, ever-changing waves. We have tenuous control (if any). We can find immeasurable joy; or we can find peace; or our ears may bleed. Every moment is different and every moment yet to come is filled with unexpected highs or lows or both. In the end, there are memories, the melody lingers on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/2168450663508486904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/music.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/2168450663508486904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/2168450663508486904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/music.html' title='Music'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-3625115945966611446</id><published>2011-04-19T07:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T07:06:40.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Tuesday, April 19, 2011</title><content type='html'>Today I start a new job. It is only part time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is no set schedule for this position. I am a merchandiser for Acosta which gets contracted by their clients as needed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It has caused me some reflection on other first days.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just now it is almost time to go.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Remember.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love someone well today,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/3625115945966611446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/happy-tuesday-april-19-2011.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/3625115945966611446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/3625115945966611446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/happy-tuesday-april-19-2011.html' title='Happy Tuesday, April 19, 2011'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-5124807409092247548</id><published>2011-04-18T17:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T17:59:52.494-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Eggs</title><content type='html'>My son posted on Facebook that he finally succeeded in making fried eggs on a stainless steel pan. Why he was so determined to do it, I dunno. The trick, apparently, is low heat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My bugaboo has always been trying to poach them. It has been rare  that I get to eat a poached egg despite it being a favorite. Apparently I  am not the only one who has difficulty in making eggs this way. If it  were easy to make, they would be available at many more restaurants.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Eggs are a remarkable thing. They come with their own storage container. Once broken, it cannot be put together again as the King&#39;s horses and King&#39;s men will tell you freely.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They are also remarkable in that most things that deliver so much  nourishment come at a high cost. Eggs, however, while being superior in  nutritional value are cheap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of course, these points about eggs are from a certain perspective. I am not sure that a hen has a perspective, but if it does, it would see eggs quite differently than a yummy source of cheap protein.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Without eggs there would be no more chickens. It goes without saying that without chickens, there would be no more eggs. There are other types of eggs, of course, but to simplify reading I am using the word egg when technically I mean chicken eggs solely.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ironically, being so delicious, chickens have no natural defenses. All manner of creatures eat chickens and also their eggs. Stupid bird cannot even fly away! This is ironic because, chickens being so delicious, we humans make sure there are always more to eat. It would have been a great tragedy if all the chickens and eggs were eaten before we humans determined to ensure that there would always be more to eat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Kim and I do not have any chickens, yet. I am looking forward to the day.  Kim says they are cute and fun to be with. The major issue is keeping  them from being stolen by hungry vandals.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am not sure what else to say about eggs, nor do I fully understand why I choose this topic. I wrote the above and some other junk I just deleted. While the day was progressing I was amazed at all the memories that came to me that involved eggs. Also there are SO MANY SAYINGS about eggs! Eggs just might be the common thread to communication between people.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/5124807409092247548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/eggs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/5124807409092247548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/5124807409092247548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/eggs.html' title='Eggs'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-8412939709194616143</id><published>2011-04-17T10:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T11:02:04.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Path in the Portrait</title><content type='html'>An individual paints a portrait. It is good. It is at once something new, yet it is in the artist&#39;s own image. It contains what the artist has seen with perhaps a hint of what he has dreamed possible. Within the portrait is a path. Where does the path lead? The path is symbolic of the unknowable future.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One is the creator, the other their creation. We can think of these two existing in different dimensions, one obviously higher than the other.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So it is with God and man. We exist because of our Creator. He is fully outside of the dimension in which we live, move and have our being. He even lives outside of time. Think of this as the painter never literally walking along the path within their portrait.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Bible exists for reasons we can only guess at. Some say that the first five books in their original format are literally the foundation for our world&#39;s existence. I can see this as a likelihood. After all, in the beginning was the Word... and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. Such glimpses into infinite spiritually should cause one to pause in open mouthed wonder.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We cannot know the future. We are told that acting on our desire to discover tomorrow can be the ultimate crime. We are told that borrowing worry from potential onward pathways adds greatly to our sorrows.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Bible was validated by prophecy. This happened long ago. Only the true living God could have foretold future events in such detail. The people of God experienced it and as a result cherished and protected the Word. Today we live in the fulfillment of ALL the promises. We get to enjoy the fruits.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unfortunately, some part of us looks back with longing to that other time. We want prophecies to be part of our lives. In this dreamy imagined scenario, we think of ourselves as the prophet, the one in the know. Secret knowledge is something we desire. We ignore the reality that chances are we would be on the outside looking in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Plus, in doing this we lose the path. Actually, we arrive at the same predetermined destination, but we have lost all the good God placed there for us to find. We walk in darkness and believe it is right. At the end of the day, we feel the weight of negativity that we have brought upon ourselves. Having limited our vision to our desires rather than the gifts, we now have neither.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We each have a path, just for today. It is from the mind of our Creator and He has painted one just for me, just for you. It contains wonders that we can barely understand. God&#39;s world is filled with good. Our problem is that we insist on redefining good. We are creatures who have tasted the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Now we think we know best about everything. But, we do not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Only when we stop believing in our interpretation of good can we fully experience the higher good. The good that can only come from a higher place, from a higher being, our Father. There is no excuse for not loving Him fully, with all of our being. Unfortunately, we all have trust issues.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is never about the other person being good. It is not clever to discover the flaws and even the evil in anyone else. Yet, we pat ourselves on the back for this all too often. Other people are not to be focused upon in this way, never. Yet we are industrious in doing this very thing. We focus on individuals we know; we focus on individuals in the news; we focus on &#39;stars&#39; of every stripe. Then we pick at their flaws.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How incredibly silly!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is a reason we do this. We want to withhold trust and this process of finding fault becomes our proof set for &quot;No one is worthy of absolute trust&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, duh!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is no proof needed for this. The assumption should be that everyone is born under sin. Therefore finding this out about anyone is no revelation at all. It is NOT NEWS!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But there is One who is worthy of every ounce of trust we can manage. If we were capable, we could freely give infinite trust, that is, infinite love to God. Sadly, we get confused.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We find in the portrait something that we wish were different. We believe in our way rather than His. We fool ourselves into believing our way would be best. We wish to be God rather than be thankful for His good truth.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dern.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Let go and let God&quot; is a phrase coined by one of the original Alcoholics Anonymous members. It certainly applies here. We first need to know that we need to stop believing in our own definition of what is good. Then we need to believe that CAN stop. Then we need to believe there is Someone who is committed to helping us do it. Then we need to believe there is Someone who will ever and always make this &quot;letting go&quot; worth it. Each day is a new portrait with a new path. If we practice every day to trust God for All good things, then we shall see the result. The result is Love, Peace, Joy, etc.&lt;br /&gt;
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Do you wonder why the twelve steps have become so famous?&lt;br /&gt;
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Down the road of those steps is helping others. This too is a key that can unlock doors to allow goodness and light into one&#39;s life. God knows, others could use some help. Actually, so do all of us. We each have doctorate in how others are flawed. Either help them or let it go. You are not required to always help everyone, beware of that TRAP, but help someone. Just remember it is not the first step or the second, etc.&lt;br /&gt;
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Like Jesus says, &quot;First remove the plank from your own eye, then you shall see clearly to remove the speck of sawdust from your fellow traveler&#39;s eye&quot;. Amen?&lt;br /&gt;
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(you better) Love someone well today (for your own sake)&lt;br /&gt;
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Bobby&lt;br /&gt;
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PS- too preachy? Y/N? Hmm, its Sunday!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/8412939709194616143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/path-in-portrait.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/8412939709194616143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/8412939709194616143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/path-in-portrait.html' title='The Path in the Portrait'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-4703382686737542841</id><published>2011-04-16T11:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T11:19:07.905-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello to Yellow Brick Road</title><content type='html'>Kim is starting her blog today. I will post a permanent link soon.&lt;br /&gt;
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I love my blog. It makes me feel good in so many ways.&lt;br /&gt;
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For the past two days I have had to postpone publishing posts I started. They deal with the origins of science as we understand the word. One never fleshed itself out. It had a lot of potential for metaphors about life. It had so many potential threads that it could become a whole book. So it sits in my draft pile. The second was a knock on Aristotle. Plain to see that it was boorish.&lt;br /&gt;
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So there ended up being no post yesterday while on Thursday I at least managed to cobble together something different.&lt;br /&gt;
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Ironically, one of the scientific themes is about momentum. Writing everyday has become a habit, so far. My past history would suggest a lack of consistency on my part. This is not my first blog, rather, my third. This blog started and stopped a few times in the past. Now it on track on a regular basis. I really hope that you enjoy reading it.&lt;br /&gt;
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Speaking of enjoyment. There was mention of another blog in the Aristotle post that did not get published. I have a keen interest in presidential elections. When I was eleven years old I began avidly watching speeches and conventions. At fifteen, I was up all night following the returns on the radio, hoping for a miracle turnaround as I pulled for McGovern with a passion. My first vote ever was for Carter and as a result was passionately against Obama. I have seen and heard much.&lt;br /&gt;
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I am betting most of you do not enjoy impassioned ranting about this stuff. So.&lt;br /&gt;
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I will start a second blog about the current campaign cycle. This way I will not trouble you by sneaking comments into BabyBeetleButts. Whether you agree with me or not on topics political should not ruin your reading of this blog.&lt;br /&gt;
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I am finishing this writing and about to be the first to read Kim&#39;s first draft. I look forward to it and you should too. Remember to actively and honestly encourage her. She is going through angst, which is a sign of artistry. I can state with passion that she will be worth reading.&lt;br /&gt;
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LOVE SOMEONE WELL TODAY! (I hope you remembered to do that yesterday without me nagging you?)&lt;br /&gt;
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Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/4703382686737542841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/hello-to-yellow-brick-road.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4703382686737542841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4703382686737542841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/hello-to-yellow-brick-road.html' title='Hello to Yellow Brick Road'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1511294377308881439.post-4153364219775382976</id><published>2011-04-14T09:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T09:28:09.289-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoarding</title><content type='html'>I must make this public confession, I am a hoarder of alternatives.&lt;br /&gt;
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I cannot seem to ever do the same thing the same way twice, at least not if any alternative exists.&lt;br /&gt;
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You just never know when you might need an alternate way to open a can, for example. If you consistently do it the exact same way, what will you do when that method is denied you either temporarily or permanently?&lt;br /&gt;
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It starts with imagining things, what if there were no electricity, for example. I think part of me is so proud of my God given ability to find solutions to problems that I make problems up. Not just once in a while either, I live in a world that is slightly different from reality. I do not take for granted that what exists is there because tomorrow it may not.&lt;br /&gt;
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As a child, this state of being sometimes caused me fear. I would traumatize myself by concentrating on something like imagining my house on fire and examining my own emotional reaction.&lt;br /&gt;
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This practiced behavior also meant that if I loved someone, I tried very hard to experience what it would be like to lose them. Talk about a good time!&lt;br /&gt;
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Yeesh!&lt;br /&gt;
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Like any good hoarder there is no greater moment than when life validates my insanity. An example for a physical hoarder might be when there is a sudden great need for a cheap plastic bowl and so they actually get to use one of the hundreds of saved take out bowls (with lids!) that are readily at hand.&lt;br /&gt;
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For me, life has no greater pleasure than getting to use an alternate method during some &#39;crisis&#39; or another. It validates all those crazy other methods of doing things that I collect/hoard.&lt;br /&gt;
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So.&lt;br /&gt;
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If you have a problem, just ask.&lt;br /&gt;
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I probably have a solution (or two, or twelve) ready to be given.&lt;br /&gt;
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Remember, I am primed and ready, just waiting for any problem great or small to present itself. I am more than willing to jump right in and present some of this stored up experience.&lt;br /&gt;
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Hello? Anyone out there?&lt;br /&gt;
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Love someone well today (in every way),&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bobby</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/feeds/4153364219775382976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/hoarding.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4153364219775382976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1511294377308881439/posts/default/4153364219775382976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babybeetlebutts.blogspot.com/2011/04/hoarding.html' title='Hoarding'/><author><name>Robert Konowal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16337597087304455880</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjtYiSJ_7OfiuC9NOnHrdfSuN2nlF9-Q39GUOy4i-R5XyQJz4jHecS8afqkLT6uZ4l6eoPhmu8taDueL9zGfBpPnnmp9VGuPLqzHB9x1SkugKSYhf_V_A9RXnbb6YTVg/s220/41769_1351035398_4141_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>