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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUDRHg-fip7ImA9WhRUFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520</id><updated>2012-01-26T00:57:55.656-08:00</updated><category term="Believe" /><category term=".    .." /><category term="i" /><category term="Kindness.. Mercy and Grace" /><title>HE pulled me out of the pickle barrel</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>103</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel" /><feedburner:info uri="hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IBQHs_eSp7ImA9WhRUFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-773967472559788418</id><published>2012-01-25T23:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T23:05:51.541-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-25T23:05:51.541-08:00</app:edited><title>My friend Bessie</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t4DxHwypw1A/TyD7B_-I0GI/AAAAAAAAAXY/yf-sr3-_Wu8/s1600/100_1080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t4DxHwypw1A/TyD7B_-I0GI/AAAAAAAAAXY/yf-sr3-_Wu8/s320/100_1080.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
A bit ago I posted some pictures of a most amazing quilt my friend Bessie made and I was given the honor of quilting.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Bessie called today.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Her brother, and the last of her siblings died Monday.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He had a number of medical issues.&amp;nbsp; He had spoken with Bessie Sunday night, had watched football all day, and was looking forward to a trip to the docs chauffeured by Bessie on Monday.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He died peacefully in his sleep.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
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Bessie is sad, but OK. &amp;nbsp; Her brother had also lost a leg. &amp;nbsp; We both can picture him now dancing in heaven, with his wife that went ahead a few years ago. &amp;nbsp; we know he is in a better place&amp;nbsp; .. It is just always sad for those who remain here and miss those who have gone ahead. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; those of us who have to pick up the pieces,&amp;nbsp; make everything work out,&amp;nbsp; and continue on.&lt;br /&gt;
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Please say a prayer for Bessie and the remaining family. &amp;nbsp; for peace. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Thank you. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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I was at Joann's a few weeks ago.&amp;nbsp; One of my favorite parts of any shopping event is checking out the Clearance section.&amp;nbsp; It is now long past any great deals in the Christmas department,&amp;nbsp; but one never knows what one will find.&amp;nbsp; Well.&amp;nbsp; There on the wall,&amp;nbsp; hanging.&amp;nbsp; ORNAMENTS.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The little wooden ones you paint for yourself.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I enjoyed doing these years ago.&amp;nbsp; BUT WHAT IS THIS?&amp;nbsp; The ornaments are baby carriages and baby rattles.&amp;nbsp; Oh YES.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; These will make GREAT shower favors.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I needed 80.&amp;nbsp; There were 81 hanging there.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I left one behind as it appeared defective.&lt;br /&gt;
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Well,&amp;nbsp; Darling David gave the ornaments the first pass with a coat of bright pink. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I got the detail work. &amp;nbsp; Some of the trim work was done in white paint,&amp;nbsp; some in black paint,&amp;nbsp; and ALL of the fine detailed lines were done with a fine point black Sharpie marker. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; We then replaced the red ribbon hangers with pink ones and DONE.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-amLAxY_df-8/Tx-WxghwrkI/AAAAAAAAAXA/fZ5R7on4Vec/s1600/baby+shower+etc.+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-amLAxY_df-8/Tx-WxghwrkI/AAAAAAAAAXA/fZ5R7on4Vec/s320/baby+shower+etc.+001.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yTpxt8XSbAs/Tx-W7jypy1I/AAAAAAAAAXI/A9xoikZo1mk/s1600/baby+shower+etc.+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yTpxt8XSbAs/Tx-W7jypy1I/AAAAAAAAAXI/A9xoikZo1mk/s320/baby+shower+etc.+003.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I enjoy painting. &amp;nbsp; It is a goal of mine to get back to some landscapes, etc. &amp;nbsp; There never seems to be enough time.&amp;nbsp; So many other MUST do projects going. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; THIS i totally enjoyed. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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Bessie's friend picked the quilt up from my studio today. &amp;nbsp; I hated to see my dancing lady leave. &amp;nbsp; I have never enjoyed quilting a quilt more than I enjoyed this quilt. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Bessie called when the quilt was back at her home. &amp;nbsp; Yes, she is very pleased with the way it turned out. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZGne9A0Fe_g/TxeFXO1EDCI/AAAAAAAAAWg/uVTAZwV9gh0/s1600/CHRISTMAS+AND+BESSIE+QUILT+045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZGne9A0Fe_g/TxeFXO1EDCI/AAAAAAAAAWg/uVTAZwV9gh0/s320/CHRISTMAS+AND+BESSIE+QUILT+045.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6jrds77dSwo/TxeFhQL8CsI/AAAAAAAAAWo/V_Mg0DjkNic/s1600/CHRISTMAS+AND+BESSIE+QUILT+046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6jrds77dSwo/TxeFhQL8CsI/AAAAAAAAAWo/V_Mg0DjkNic/s320/CHRISTMAS+AND+BESSIE+QUILT+046.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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THIS is why I quilt. &amp;nbsp; THIS is what I enjoy doing. &amp;nbsp; This brings me EXTREME JOY,&amp;nbsp; so I am going to CELEBRATE and perhaps do a bit of a dance of my own.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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HOWEVER.&amp;nbsp; these auto dialers and automatic calls are DRIVING ME NUTS.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; There is NO ONE to say.. YOU HAVE THE WRONG NUMBER to.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; there is NO opt out button.&lt;br /&gt;
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I have a fairly common last name. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My husband has a common first name.&amp;nbsp; THE PHONE IS IN MY NAME.&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WHY are they CALLING ME?&amp;nbsp; ok.&amp;nbsp; i understand.&amp;nbsp; You do what you need to do.&amp;nbsp; BUT GIVE ME A PERSON on the other end of the phone for heaven's sakes. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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and a note to anyone who has problems right now.&amp;nbsp; TALK to those you OWE money to. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; DO SOMETHING.&amp;nbsp; do NOT let other innocent persons have to listen to YOUR collection calls. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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yes .. there is caller id.&amp;nbsp; but WE DON'T HAVE IT. &amp;nbsp; WE HAVE downsized ALL our "stuff".. and caller id is an "extra".. DUH. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; We did that so WE can pay OUR bills. &amp;nbsp; ye gads. &amp;nbsp; HAPPY HOLIDAYS. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-3236791045213139499?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UvSc1r_RtIiSFsmKYc1AXGpdvlo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UvSc1r_RtIiSFsmKYc1AXGpdvlo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/30z3h6HI02Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/3236791045213139499/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=3236791045213139499" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/3236791045213139499?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/3236791045213139499?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/30z3h6HI02Q/happy-holidays.html" title="HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/12/happy-holidays.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8NRncyfSp7ImA9WhRXEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-6780040522161604596</id><published>2011-12-17T11:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T11:41:37.995-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-17T11:41:37.995-08:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">there.&amp;nbsp; THAT is the image of the "Men folk" stressing over CHRISTMAS i wanted to get to you all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YrSbtVJfCEo/TuzwYY9rTBI/AAAAAAAAAWY/8nE0A4rAmQg/s1600/100_3716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YrSbtVJfCEo/TuzwYY9rTBI/AAAAAAAAAWY/8nE0A4rAmQg/s1600/100_3716.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
NICE?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; SIGH .. yup. time for MY NAP.&amp;nbsp; giggle.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-6780040522161604596?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/t6xIHVIVJJtpatX2-Xntuu9taVw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/t6xIHVIVJJtpatX2-Xntuu9taVw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/lJwza5DP1QY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/6559727721974775446/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=6559727721974775446" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/6559727721974775446?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/6559727721974775446?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/lJwza5DP1QY/blog-post.html" title="" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8o8JnjlL25A/Tuzv9CZQfKI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/vD8rvS0Qfn0/s72-c/100_3716.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEFRH8zfSp7ImA9WhRXEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-2339398588096213729</id><published>2011-12-17T11:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T11:36:55.185-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-17T11:36:55.185-08:00</app:edited><title>Christmas stress???</title><content type="html">well I think THIS says it ALL.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ladies? &amp;nbsp; are you 'done" with the Christmas preparations? &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I am VERY CLOSE.&lt;br /&gt;
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the house is decorated.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; tree up.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; gifts purchased.&amp;nbsp; wrapped. and NUMEROUS boxes mailed to out of state recipients.&amp;nbsp; GOOD.&amp;nbsp; done is GOOD.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am still working on a SPECIAL project.&amp;nbsp; One that has been on my 'to do" list for NUMEROUS years.&amp;nbsp; It is in PROGRESS and i REALLY THINK it will get TA DONE this year.&amp;nbsp; We shall see.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Left to do....? &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
well.. Monday is DOCTOR day. &amp;nbsp; first. at 9am a "blood check" &amp;nbsp; this a regular routine for Darling David.&amp;nbsp; pt/inr.&amp;nbsp; It checks his coagulation level. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; that plastic heart valve and the way his blood fluxes thru it.&amp;nbsp; AH.&amp;nbsp; FLUX CAPACITOR.&amp;nbsp; in shades of&amp;nbsp; Back to the future.&amp;nbsp; whatever.&amp;nbsp; have to have the JUST RIGHT level.&amp;nbsp; OFTEN it is NOT "just right"..&amp;nbsp; but usually AOK. &amp;nbsp; GOOD. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; At eleven, he sees the psychologist for "THE test".&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; this is GOOD and SCARY at the same time.&amp;nbsp; My darling has been a tad(?) off for SEVERAL years.&amp;nbsp; FINALLY the doc, nurses, receptionists, etc etc at the VA have NOTICED.&amp;nbsp; well HALLELULIA.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; so.&amp;nbsp; THE TEST will be "administered"..&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; then,&amp;nbsp; "after the test" the shrink will probably call me in for a "reality check"&amp;nbsp; THIS will be interesting.&amp;nbsp; won't it?&amp;nbsp; giggle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
NOW the rest of the week.&amp;nbsp; BAKE.&amp;nbsp; i LOVE to bake COOKIES but my SPECIALITY is KOLACHKY.&amp;nbsp; oh YEAH.&amp;nbsp; home made polish/slovak pastries.&amp;nbsp; LOTS of WORK.&amp;nbsp; my back will ACHE.&amp;nbsp; but it is SO GOOD.&amp;nbsp; the TRADITIONS you know. &amp;nbsp; GOOD.&amp;nbsp; so two days BAKING. &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
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THEN.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; CLEAN the HOUSE.&amp;nbsp; well it is NOT all THAT bad.&amp;nbsp; we already did the SCRUB A RAMA.&amp;nbsp; so tidy up. dust.&amp;nbsp; vacumn. oh.&amp;nbsp; the guest room.&amp;nbsp; well THAT will take a day.&amp;nbsp; WHY does the guest room always end up the DUMP zone?&amp;nbsp; ok.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but EASY PEASY.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; for us WOMEN folk.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; YES.&amp;nbsp; LOTS TO GET DONE.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; but AHHH.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; close.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
see how Darling DAvid is "coping" with the "work left to be done"?&amp;nbsp; i LOVE IT.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; yes.&amp;nbsp; LIFE IS GOOD.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
TONIGHT we are going to go out to DINNER with OTHERS.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; yes. we ARE.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; i know.&amp;nbsp; this HERMIT is getting OUT OF THE HOUSE.&amp;nbsp; at NIGHT yet.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
and EVERYBODY SIT DOWWWWN.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; we are then going to drive and look at CHRISTMAS LIGHTS.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; whoo hoooo.&amp;nbsp; well OF COURSE someone else is driving.&amp;nbsp; we can't see at night.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; but THIS is so NEATO to me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; to GO LOOK AT THE LIGHTS.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I am now reverting back to my CHILDHOOD.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ohhh.. ahhh.&amp;nbsp; the LIGHTS.&amp;nbsp; we DON'T DRIVE AT NIGHT anymore.&amp;nbsp; we CAN'T SEE.&amp;nbsp; so THIS is a GIFT.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
and the SAME children are giving us ANOTHER gift.&amp;nbsp; on Christmas eve.&amp;nbsp; WE ARE going to 11pm services at FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH of FLINT.&amp;nbsp; the OLLLD church.&amp;nbsp; DOWNTOWN.&amp;nbsp; WHOO HOO. &amp;nbsp; the church will be decorated with evergreen vines and white lights.&amp;nbsp; They have a HUMONGOUS CHOIR.&amp;nbsp; and there will be SINGING of CHRISTMAS CAROLS.&amp;nbsp; a LOT of em. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; and at the end.&amp;nbsp; we will light candles "off each other"&amp;nbsp; ROWS AND ROWS of PEOPLE lighting THE LIGHT from EACH OTHERS CANDLES.&amp;nbsp; the GIFT. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; and to have CHILDREN WITH ME. &amp;nbsp; oh THAT is the MOST PRECIOUS OF GIFTS. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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ANYBODY ELSE WANT TO COME?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; it is THE BOMB.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; HONEST.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
so.. i am NEARLY ready.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; as you can tell DAVID is NOT over stressing about ANY of the "preps"&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
LITTLE does HE KNOW i have a "list of STUFF" FOR HIM to GO GET next week. &amp;nbsp; rolls. &amp;nbsp; chips.&amp;nbsp; pop.&amp;nbsp; etc.&amp;nbsp; but EASY for him. &lt;br /&gt;
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HE IS definitely NOT STRESSED.&amp;nbsp; nor are "the kids".&amp;nbsp; giggle... &lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-2339398588096213729?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Sadly the star gave up on us this year.  I am so GLAD i "tested" it before i climbed up to put it on top the tree.     BUT we got a BONUS this year.   We have one of those pre-lit seven foot trees.  I LIKE it.  so much better than waiting til the very last minute for Darling David to GET the REAL tree.   I am very OCD and "last minute" is NOT my thing.   ALAS.  in years past.   a few? rows of pre-lit lights FLATLY REFUSE to go ON.   this is usually at the TOP of the tree..  well.  TA DAA.  this year.   after tree up.  lit.  and partially decorated.  ALL OF A SUDDEN..  whoosh.  WHOOSH.   they LIT!!!   tree compensation?  I don't know but i REALLY like it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHRISTMAS is a tad(?)  difficult this year.    This year there are a number of persons, beings. loved ones who will NOT be here on this earth to celebrate with us.   SIGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE CHRISTMAS.  It is THE TIME of year.  well. when GRATITUDE permeates the air.&lt;br /&gt;GOD GAVE his ONLY son to US.   He was born as a tiny HELPLESS BABY.   WOW. what a TRIP that must have been.  ONE minute YOU ARE GOD. and the NEXT minute, there ya are.  in a MANGER yet.  NOT EVEN a fancy crib with the bumper pads and the quilts etc etc.  JUST THERE.   you got a mom. a dad. some sheep, and HAY.    WOW. what a "downsize" THAT must have been.  GOD.. and you are DEPENDANT on "others" to even CHANGE A DIAPER.  I always ponder that one.  WOWW.    Talk about HUMBLED. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. for a bit I was "bumming" about Christmas.   I LOVE Christmas.  oh, i said that.   I was also feeling a tad guilty about CELEBRATING.  yet.     THOSE who are NOT with us are most likely having the BESTEST CHRISTMAS there EVER was.  so.. ok.  ON WE GO. who are left behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW my thoughts turn to PAST Christmas times.    The OLD ones.  ABOUT five, and the BRIDE DOLL that will ALWAYS be my FAVORITE Christmas gift,..   very SPECIAL and NOT expected.   THE Christmas when as a teen i received a FUZZY PLAID white and RED pair of "dress pants"  PINK.  RED.    oh myyy.   i KNOW mom thought it was AWESOME. and to top it off.  the "cable knit baby girl pink" sweater that "went" with it.  YE GADS!!!!  but i WORE them.  just NOT together.  giggle.    and NOT out of the house.  MORE giggles.      THEN the Christmas i received an engagement ring.  STILL remember that one. .. Sad times how that all worked out.   and memories of a life also gone.   too soon.   too hard a way to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decorated the tree last night.   MEMORIES.   there is still an ornament from my FIRST "my own" Christmas tree. ONE BELL.   one bell left from a life LONG ago.    There are MANY 'Mom and dad" ornaments.   the fisherman.   the HUGE gold ball.   and a LOT of others. i THINK perhaps ONE may be my GRANDMOTHERS.  but I am not sure of that.    SISTER ornaments.  one that STRONGLY resembles the "spinning one" on GRANDMOM'S tree.   oh.  a TRANS SIBERIAN ORCHESTRA ornament that was a "have it mom"    GREAT memory.   and then.  ofcourses. the ABBEY ornament. that has a central place.     Decorating the tree and the ornaments are now a walk down memory lane as well.    GIFTS from CHILDREN. and now GRANDchildren.   a GOOD thing.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT MEMORIES do we MAKE for THIS CHRISTMAS????   yes, there is sorrow. BUT this COULD BE the LAST Christmas.   for who?  Don't know.   but it could be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ponder the "last" Christmas for my mom.  we KNEW it was her last.  We were GRATEFUL as we had been told she would NOT be here for that.   GOOD.  and THE GIFT.  a GUND TEDDY BEAR.    what a thought.  fur US TO HUG when she was not here.   WOW.    sadly we did not know it was to also be my DAD'S last Christmas.   You just never know.    OTHERS have had their LAST Christmas here in this world.  NOT expected.   we MISS them.   BUT we KNOW they are in such an AWESOME CELEBRATION..  well. ok.  we HURT.  but WE have to go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;therefore,, i am going to CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS.   with JOY.   joy for ME.. joy for EVERYONE.     my mind is pondering WHAT can I DO to make THIS CHRISTMAS special?   we shall see.   sorrow?   well yes.   BUT we are HERE and they are THERE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS IS CHRISTMAS.  THIS IS the GIFT that HEAVEN GAVE US.      CELEBRATE.   live LARGE.        THIS is CHRIST OUR SAVIOR coming to US.   after being HIM in HEAVEN. to be totally dependant.  on US.      WOW.  talk about a DOWNSIZE. and WE complain?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-8990397687489269135?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vtucVQN_wr2z0kOPfDxqYdxy2Ho/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vtucVQN_wr2z0kOPfDxqYdxy2Ho/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/cfojEd9yhm0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/8990397687489269135/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=8990397687489269135" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/8990397687489269135?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/8990397687489269135?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/cfojEd9yhm0/christmas-time.html" title="CHRISTMAS TIME" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vjjxA00yNEk/TtvpGlmmYFI/AAAAAAAAAV0/7qX0SJk8NTo/s72-c/100_3702.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-time.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8HQHY-eyp7ImA9WhRRFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-1045869991704925746</id><published>2011-11-29T08:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T08:40:31.853-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-29T08:40:31.853-08:00</app:edited><title>a WONDERFUL GIFT!!!</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W1qAhYxhecE/TtUK49ARThI/AAAAAAAAAVo/6IJcLAlIcW0/s1600/100_1378.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W1qAhYxhecE/TtUK49ARThI/AAAAAAAAAVo/6IJcLAlIcW0/s320/100_1378.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680458478562397714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received a very special gift Saturday evening.   It was a phone call.  a SPECIAL phone call.&lt;br /&gt;It was from someone I love,  who I have been "on the outs" with.    I know it was one of the hardest phone calls for that person to make.    I feel I have received one of THE BEST Christmas presents one can receive, and it's still only NOVEMBER!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all I want to say is, THANK YOU.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;color:black;"&gt;Life  is                                                        too short,  so:                                                        Forgive  quickly.                                                        Believe  slowly.                                                      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                                                                                                                                      &lt;div style="margin-bottom:12pt;"&gt;                                              &lt;div&gt;                                                &lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;color:black;"&gt;Love                                                         truly. Laugh                                                         uncontrollably.                                                         Never regret                                                         anything &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                                              &lt;/div&gt;                                            &lt;/div&gt;                                            &lt;div style="margin-bottom:12pt;"&gt;                                              &lt;div&gt;                                                &lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;color:black;"&gt;that                                                         makes you happy.                                                         And have a                                                         wonderful                                                         journey!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                                              &lt;/div&gt;                                            &lt;/div&gt;                                            &lt;div style="margin-bottom:12pt;"&gt;                                              &lt;div&gt;                                              &lt;/div&gt;                                            &lt;/div&gt;                                                                                          &lt;div&gt;                                                &lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;color:black;"&gt;P.S.  -                                                      Life has no                                                       remote, GET UP                                                       &amp;amp; CHANGE IT                                                       YOURSELF.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-1045869991704925746?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Vxl_KVBwqqbrZ8LthctTMWSFHow/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Vxl_KVBwqqbrZ8LthctTMWSFHow/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/HLjoxiD1JKE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/1045869991704925746/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=1045869991704925746" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/1045869991704925746?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/1045869991704925746?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/HLjoxiD1JKE/wonderful-gift.html" title="a WONDERFUL GIFT!!!" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W1qAhYxhecE/TtUK49ARThI/AAAAAAAAAVo/6IJcLAlIcW0/s72-c/100_1378.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/11/wonderful-gift.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UNSHw8fyp7ImA9WhRRE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-5250850994876115355</id><published>2011-11-26T11:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-26T12:28:19.277-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-26T12:28:19.277-08:00</app:edited><title>WHEW.  and the HOLIDAYS have only BEGUN</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9pTXwGOhHnY/TtFLvfv9usI/AAAAAAAAAVc/aIk-ySwIM9Y/s1600/100_2505.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9pTXwGOhHnY/TtFLvfv9usI/AAAAAAAAAVc/aIk-ySwIM9Y/s320/100_2505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679403884439517890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LIFE IS GOOD...   that is a motto of a very good friend of mine.    My personal motto's are DONE is GOOD.   as well as LIFE is SHORT.  DANCE NAKED.  (even if it is alone in the shower) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the past few weeks we have had several life adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONE.  we got NEW FURNITURE.   WHOO HOO.  badly needed as the neurotic golden has EATEN a HUGE part of living room furniture.  as well as the rug, to be replaced as SOON as she gets NOT neurotic.  giggle. NOT.      HOWEVER if you know ME.  NEW anything in a room means. CLEAN and SCRUB and TOTALLY make the room READY for whatever is new.  lots of work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, we also got a new mattress and box springs.  oh oh. YES. the OCD also kicked in in the bedroom.     SCRUBBED WALLS,   furniture, curtains. etc.    and ON WE GO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POOPED would be a serious understatement. but NO.  they have to MOVE the old mattress and boxsprings THRU THE HALLWAY.  you guessed it.  pictures DOWN.  walls ICKEY.  SCRUB THE HALLWAY as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well THIS IS GOOD.  rolling up ones sleeves and SCRUBBING STUFF helps.   it gets you GOING. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the GOOD news is that the living room is CLEAN.  walls scrubbed,  floors. etc etc.  the BEDROOM is CLEAN.   walls.  pics.  furniture, etc etc.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the BONUS is the WHITE WALLED hallway is also SCRUBBED.   WHEW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bad news is.  my back is killing me.  i am POOPED to the MAX.   and still now need to do the KITCHEN. and perhaps the bathroom.  UGHHH.   but heah. i CAN DO THAT.  some cannot. so LET'S ROLL..    side note.  bathroom walls will be scrubbed AFTER the holidays.  good nuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SCRUBBING WALLS is a GOOD thing.   YOU WORK IT OFF.  all of the IT that has been bothering you.  you SCRUB.  you WORK.   you FEEL THE ENERGY WORKING.  and you get TIRED.  tired of THE CRAP.  hmm?  CRAP.  crap one has been carrying for a LONG time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year the holidays will be different.  MANY are not here this year.  MUCH is heavy on our hearts.    I have had "heavy holidays" before.  THIS year others are sharing them with me.    I sigh.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you say to a daughter that has lost her mother?    been there.  done that.  NOTHING helps.   TIME.  it takes TIME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT do you say to a father that has lost his son?   I don't know.  He is still in the zone.    He tries to behave as if all is ok. it is not.  we all see it.    MY SON as well.  That does not seem to be recognized.   SIGH.   We were kept "at a distance" for a LONG time.  WHY?  who knows now. who cares now.  it HURTS.   how do we "make it better"??  i don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mother.  who has lost a child WAY TOO EARLY.  have a couple of those.  INSTANT gone. .. NOT expected.   TOO FAST  too YOUNG.  WHOOSH.. gone.  now they say "heart"  new thing they have discovered.  POOF.  heart just goes amuck in a FLASH.  GONE.  so MUCH sorrow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YET we CELEBRATE.  we DECORATE.  we COOK. we EAT.  we DO IT,..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is CHRISTMAS ..    it is HIS BIRTH.    our SAVIOR.    even in our deepest sorrows.. THERE IS HOPE.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we NEED to BE TOGETHER.   we NEED to KEEP THE FAITH.  what faith?   HIS FAITH.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HE PULLED ME OUT OF THE PICKLE BARREL.      HE WILL pull YOU OUT as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life is SHORT.  dance NAKED. &lt;br /&gt;LOVE EACH OTHER.  even when it HURTS.&lt;br /&gt;FORGIVE.  because IF you do NOT. .well HE can't forgive you.  it's THAT SIMPLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is a GREATER PLACE.  a BETTER PLACE.. and those who have gone before us. some SO VERY SOONER than we had thought. THEY are ENJOYING that place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had some HARD times.  well haven't we ALL?   SOMEONE did a thing.  she "squeeled on me". well i want to say THANK YOU.  for what YOU meant for evil  GOD made for GOOD.   Ok.  details. i WAS drinking a LOT too much.. but. someone "intervened".. ok.  THIS was GOOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life here gets crazier and more painful by the moment.  BUT we have THE PROMISE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL things work TOGETHER for GOOD. for those who LOVE THE LORD and are CALLED according to HIS PURPOSES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yES.  SOMETIMES it just SUCKS.  but IT WILL BE BETTER.  it WILL BE AWESOME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when?  not a clue.  but it WILL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so..  cooked the turkey.  cleaned the house.  NOW we DECORATE and CELEBRATE THE BIRTH OF THE KING. of our SAVIOR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know about you. but i REALLY REALLY NEED a SAVIOR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-5250850994876115355?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I mean the in your sleep dream.    I do. sometimes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do any of you go back to the same dream?  The same location?   scene?   etc.  I do. sometimes.  But that has not happened for a long time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night i had the MOST amazing of dreams.     One that when you woke up, you told yourself i MUST remember THIS.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't go into all the details.   Very boring I am sure.    BUT.   this dream wound old real places.  with old dream places.   BUT the DREAM places were now brought "up to date" if you will.     As well as the old real places.     Old dream memories came together with old life memories and places.    For some reason, I was at my great aunt and uncle's farm house.    But with "changes" bringing it to this time,  not the time of long ago.   choices to be made.   an old station wagon, or a new EXTREMELY FANCY pink baby buggy?       Next, on the back of a very fast mini motorcycle, on the dirt roads, driving to "great Grannie's place".    The old house and barn gone but covered with lush grass and trees.    The park next door just the same.   And then old places of dreams came into play.   The lake with rock steps and waterfalls.   The "friend" I used to play with.  The tree house that I lived in for a few dreams...  But all 'aged"..  all GOOD.  all remembered.  Even the names of old dream friends and persons who appeared.     Somehow the old home my grandmother lived in on Union Avenue in Cleveland came into play.   but NOT the old worn down home.   It was all AGLOW.  all REPAINTED and repaired.    Places of joy in dreams.  Places of TERROR in dreams past.   Now.  somehow.  all together and ALL very GOOD places.    My husband was there.   My children were there. My siblings were there.    Friends were there.  Even dream friends were there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe in "dream interpretations"  etc.   I believe in GOD.  period.     I am certain that John Edwards would have a BLAST with this one.     for a flash I thought.  ARE there ALTERNATE worlds?   it was CRAZY to SEE all the "old dreams"  coming "up to date".   It was even wilder to REMEMBER the dream things.  dream places.  dream people.     WOW.  Dreams from EONS ago.      all put into the mix.   and updated.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up with the feeling.  I AM LOVED.    That no matter WHAT..   it IS GOOD.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is WELL.   with MY SOUL.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This amazing dream was a CELEBRATION.  of things past.   and of things TO COME.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also a REMINDER that WE ALL have DREAMS.  Now i mean the DREAMS and HOPES for the future.        And that even the most NIGHTMARISH events.  CAN turn out FOR GOOD. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It IS WELL.  with MY SOUL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-3195003328946281472?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JHjlRS3qjUoxAmtz6aPCzej13LM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JHjlRS3qjUoxAmtz6aPCzej13LM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/m2ISnXFx3ls" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/3195003328946281472/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=3195003328946281472" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/3195003328946281472?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/3195003328946281472?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/m2ISnXFx3ls/amazing-dreams.html" title="AMAZING dreams!!!" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/09/amazing-dreams.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMCQXw-fip7ImA9WhdVFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-5132208342013727301</id><published>2011-09-19T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T16:04:20.256-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-19T16:04:20.256-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term=".    .." /><title /><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ecJ08DGvTmM/TnfKQTSJM6I/AAAAAAAAAVM/ov_4kJDbcKA/s1600/May%2Bto%2BDecember%2B010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ecJ08DGvTmM/TnfKQTSJM6I/AAAAAAAAAVM/ov_4kJDbcKA/s320/May%2Bto%2BDecember%2B010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654210238590038946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cJgUWfXHTaM/TnfKQKzeXUI/AAAAAAAAAVE/qbmbbILQcPA/s1600/May%2Bto%2BDecember%2B002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cJgUWfXHTaM/TnfKQKzeXUI/AAAAAAAAAVE/qbmbbILQcPA/s320/May%2Bto%2BDecember%2B002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654210236313918786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H_UY8x6-Mxo/TnfKQr_vaEI/AAAAAAAAAVU/8XXm1MV1-OY/s1600/May%2Bto%2BDecember%2B007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H_UY8x6-Mxo/TnfKQr_vaEI/AAAAAAAAAVU/8XXm1MV1-OY/s320/May%2Bto%2BDecember%2B007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654210245223737410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lost a GOOD friend last week..  It was a Friday.  It was a sad day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know many will say it is JUST A DOG.  But THIS dog.  was amazing.   THIS dog held me through the death of my mother.  and my father.  and a long trip my husband took to Oklahoma to take care of his brother.  and a LOT of HARD times.  THIS dog held us through loosing our SON.    and through a TON of hospital stays.. for David.  Me and Abbey..  US GIRLS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS DOG was OUR FRIEND.  THIS DOG was just KNOWING how WE FELT. and SHE LOVED US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will remember her KNOCKING ME OVER in the back yard,,  RUNNING..  FULL TILT.  As WELL AS NUMEROUS grandchildren being "warned"  DO NOT Run. oh yeah. they RAN. and Abbey PLOWED THEM DOWN.   not HARD.  but in a FUN SPIRITED   as in LET'S JUST HAVE SOME FUNNN manner.. AH.. WE MISS THAT.   We MISS our Abbey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE will miss her CLEARING a FOUR FOOT chicken wire fence over the garden.  HEAH.  whoo HOO.  let's DO IT. and for ONE year all the "crops" came up in a CIRCULAR fashion.  Abbey RAN AND DASHED and SHE did the PLOWING..  what a HOOT..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will REMEMBER her BUTT in OUR yard and her FACE in the neighbor's yard.  with the rest of her UNDER THE FENCE.  what a ROARING LAUGH.. !!  Yes.  ABBEY was a HOOT.  she was THERE. she LIVED and she BARKED.  she barked a LOT.   and then barked MORE. but SHE WAS ABBEY.  and ALL the neighbors knew her. a GOOD black lab. a GOOD dog.  crazy.. yes. but GOOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Eve will NEVER be the same.  the grands KNEW.  "hold the cookie up HIGH"  OR ELSE.    ABBEY LOVED to SNATCH cookies.  etc. etc.  ah.  WHAT A GOOD DOG.  oops??? giggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE MISS OUR ABIGAIL.    it was HARD to HOLD her when they put her down. . it was time.  she had achey bones. she had had a GOOD life.   We sang her "song" to her in those last moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Abigail my Abigail. my puppy with the long black tail.  you are the pup that is the best.  more than all the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.  and we sang it SEVERAL times. til she was gone .. SIGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i TRY to laugh it all off. but THIS was a ROTTEN year.   i TRY to giggle and say.  OK TWO CATS gone.  a SON.  ouch.  PAIN BEYOND imagination.    a niece. SHOCK.   way TOO young and STILL no "cause of death"  just GONE....     AND now    our Abbey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Abbey was the dog they SNUCK in on me.   HIDE her.  David and Cindy got her as my "replacement" when i was in Ohio.  taking care of mom and dad.  i SAID  NOOO MORE DOGS .. and THERE she was.. a GOOD friend.  the kind of friend you can cry on . and talk to.  and SHE GOT IT..  ahh. i SO MISS HER..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the vet called today.  her ashes are ready for pickup. IF WE COULD have MANAGED her BIGG body.  we WOULD have TAKEN her.  NOT.  BIGG dog.  and the disrespect.  HAUL her home. DIG a four foot hole. so.  ASHES. that is all we have.   YEAH. WE SNIVEL.     \&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Abigail. MY Abigail.  my PUPPY with the LONG black tail   You ARE the pup that IS THE BEST.. MORE than all the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. "only a dog"  but she was my BEST FRIEND.  SIGH..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOR I KNOW the PLANS I HAVE FOR YOU. PLANS to have a FUTURE.. etc etc.  See Jeremiah..       oh START WITH chapter 3 or so..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-5132208342013727301?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8baxVV237ELOBtuULN1v19-5bY0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8baxVV237ELOBtuULN1v19-5bY0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/xOX5sn_viDM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/5132208342013727301/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=5132208342013727301" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/5132208342013727301?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/5132208342013727301?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/xOX5sn_viDM/we-lost-good-friend-last-week.html" title="" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ecJ08DGvTmM/TnfKQTSJM6I/AAAAAAAAAVM/ov_4kJDbcKA/s72-c/May%2Bto%2BDecember%2B010.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/09/we-lost-good-friend-last-week.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMGRn49fSp7ImA9WhdXGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-2428732453919310431</id><published>2011-08-31T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T14:33:47.065-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-31T14:33:47.065-07:00</app:edited><title>STILL trying to catch my breath.. OUCH...</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rt3n80Pfk2I/Tl6om1VeQuI/AAAAAAAAAU8/AqFIoj3yAaI/s1600/May%2Bto%2BDecember%2B158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rt3n80Pfk2I/Tl6om1VeQuI/AAAAAAAAAU8/AqFIoj3yAaI/s320/May%2Bto%2BDecember%2B158.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647136367874818786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;WHAT A WEEK.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;WHEW.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;We lost a SPECTACULAR NIECE this past Wednesday.   Her name is Christine Cecelia Salisbury.  go check her out on facebook. on etsy, etc etc.   She was the MOST AMAZING artist.   SIGH ..  she was full of pep and happiness.  and we all said. now WHO will bring the JELLO SHOTS to the next funeral.  yeah.  THAT kind of AMAZING WOMAN.    SIGH.  sniffles so many tears. 
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Christine was a mere twenty eight years old.  Christine had just secured a position at Cleveland Central Catholic High School as an ART teacher.  the desire of her HEART...   She had just moved the previous Saturday into a REALLY GREAT apartment in Lakewood Ohio.. GOOD place.  and she had most recently found the MOST WONDERFUL man.  OH.. Brian.  my heart just ACHES for YOU.. 
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Christine's new life had JUST BEGUN.. and then..  POOOF... GONE.  and you have NO IDEA how PAINFUL that kind of POOF.. GONE can be..  so YOUNG. so MUCH of FINALLY a NEW AND HAPPY BEGINNING...   after so much.  crap.   etc.  WOAHH.  take a DEEP breath.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;LIFE IS SHORT.  so MANY things can just GO. in a MOMENT.   WOW.  takes your breath away/..    POOF..  GONE....  now what????
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;My sis is having a party on the third.   for the family.  for the September birthdays. a LOT of those.     this was planned months ahead.  but HOW can we have a PARTY without our DEAREST CHRISTINE?   I DON'T KNOW.  we cry.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;i am weary of the tears.   and yet.  they come.   OK.. time to dance naked in the shower. life is short. 
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-2428732453919310431?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;If you can't learn to enjoy your life when you have problems, you may never enjoy it because we'll always have problems.  Joyce Meyer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I think we all have problems.  Big ones.  Little ones.    And yes, we will ALWAYS have problems.   
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;If you can't learn to enjoy your life when you have problems, you may never enjoy it because we'll always have problems.   Joyce Meyer.
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;I AM DETERMINED to ENJOY my life.   Problems and all.      This doesn't mean that I will always be "happy",  It means I am NOT going to live in a sad, tearful state 24/7 just waiting for some kind of miracle or wonder event to change my life.   Stuff happens.   I am IN the stuff.  It is MY life,  it's the only one I get.   So..  I WILL ENJOY it.     It's SHORT.   Often it is sad.  But life is what WE make of it..   I will ENJOY it. 
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-626477812921084277?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4ZFdi9XuTgzcrUgIj-ztruPAoj4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4ZFdi9XuTgzcrUgIj-ztruPAoj4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/XBYmmMM8Pns" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/626477812921084277/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=626477812921084277" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/626477812921084277?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/626477812921084277?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/XBYmmMM8Pns/thought-for-day-ok-every-day.html" title="Thought for the day..  ok.  EVERY day." /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VBf7UAlzBAY/TlUhdK9ZU7I/AAAAAAAAAU0/54eXXxzdba8/s72-c/May%2Bto%2BDecember%2B021.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/08/thought-for-day-ok-every-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYDR3w7eCp7ImA9WhdQGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-2065560538578979162</id><published>2011-08-20T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T09:36:16.200-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-20T09:36:16.200-07:00</app:edited><title>HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kj5txSO3AQ0/Tk_iYbbMpvI/AAAAAAAAAUs/mTHvTaiAgbs/s1600/mom%2Bon%2Bphone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kj5txSO3AQ0/Tk_iYbbMpvI/AAAAAAAAAUs/mTHvTaiAgbs/s320/mom%2Bon%2Bphone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642977767425091314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;I had a crazy dream last night.   It just popped into my head that TODAY we were going to celebrate MY Birthday.  I had enough sense in the dream to know my birthday was in May.  But I could hear "others" telling me that was NOT the big celebration, BUT TODAY was going to be an EXTREME BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION.   The dream was so real, I found myself singing inside, IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY..  HAVE A  PARTY!!!    When I woke up this morning, I still had it in my head that TODAY was my BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION DAY!!!   I smelled the coffee that Darling David had freshly brewed.  This is always special as he is NOT to drink a lot of coffee.   IF any.  I had my sweet Scudworth "cuddling" with me in bed.  The dog even misses his breakfast to "sleep in" a tad longer.   OK. it would not matter WHO he was sleeping in with, but it is still nice.  I stretched,  I yawned..   and THEN it HIT ME.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;TODAY my MOTHER would have been EIGHTY ONE years old.   TODAY is HER extreme BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION.    Mom has been gone now for eleven years.  WOW how time flies.
&lt;br /&gt;I also find it most amazing as I always had three dates in mind for "mom's birthday"..  Was it the 20Th?  the 21st?  or the 22Nd?    Since mom has left us, I NEVER forget "the date"..
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Eighty one is NOT that "old".   Sixty nine was WAY too soon to leave us.   SIGH.    Yet, others have left us even sooner ..    I am so HAPPY for the time MOM was HERE.   I can still hear her LAUGH.. and yes, her cussing.   LOVE my MOTHER but she did have a tad? of a potty mouth.
&lt;br /&gt;I could share EVERYTHING with my MOTHER.    We laughed, we cried.. TOGETHER.     We shopped.. LOTS of shopping.   We talked on the phone.  When I lived "in town" we chatted twice a day..  When I lived "long distance"..  we talked at least once a week,  the long distance companies LOVED us for sure.    Oh to be able to pick up the phone and TALK with her once again.   So MUCH going on.  So MUCH I wish i could share with her,  even if it were to hear her cuss about it..   I actually MISS the repeated expletives of VERY bad words.   oh mom!!  blush.   BUT NOW we ROAR with laughter over them..   As we did when she was so very sick, and STILL the "barrage" would come from her mouth. and WE ALL LAUGHED.  mom too.  how silly.  Yet that is how we handled it all.  LAUGH.  and LAUGH HARDER.    It's all temporary here.   It's all a bit of the road.   We CAN find JOY even in the SADDEST of situations IF we LOOK for it.   OF COURSE there were TEARS. BUCKETS of them.   BUT that is NOT the way MOM would want us to remember.  THAT is NOT celebrating her life.  
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;TODAY I will CELEBRATE..  MY MOTHER.   I will LAUGH at the memories of the OUTRAGEOUS.  the GOOD and the BAD.   And i will SMILE.  Because i KNOW it was MOM who sent me the dream that TODAY is an EXTREME BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION.  for BOTH OF US.   
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;love you mom.  miss you so much..      Yes, I will LAUGH WITH YOU.    as we always have.
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-2065560538578979162?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OGeG4d8aVD9ozJW7GRnGo3b1BuY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OGeG4d8aVD9ozJW7GRnGo3b1BuY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/LLorhvdv5AY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/2065560538578979162/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=2065560538578979162" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/2065560538578979162?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/2065560538578979162?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/LLorhvdv5AY/happy-birthday-mom.html" title="HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kj5txSO3AQ0/Tk_iYbbMpvI/AAAAAAAAAUs/mTHvTaiAgbs/s72-c/mom%2Bon%2Bphone.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/08/happy-birthday-mom.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQCQHk-eCp7ImA9WhdQFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-7407491201325300422</id><published>2011-08-18T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T08:46:01.750-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-18T08:46:01.750-07:00</app:edited><title>Something I read today,    I needed to share it.</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OX7HC748vsM/Tk0zUNTWEbI/AAAAAAAAAUc/WMZtxJTkFTI/s1600/100_1207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OX7HC748vsM/Tk0zUNTWEbI/AAAAAAAAAUc/WMZtxJTkFTI/s320/100_1207.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642222330426298802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ga0vvt-d1AU/Tk0zUzF317I/AAAAAAAAAUk/o-gYjOV7Pds/s1600/100_1205.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ga0vvt-d1AU/Tk0zUzF317I/AAAAAAAAAUk/o-gYjOV7Pds/s320/100_1205.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642222340570339250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;I opened up an e-mail from an old friend today.     The following is what i read.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;These are the things that need to be remembered,  and put into use, every day.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="yiv1856354582role_document"    style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="yiv1856354582ecxyui_3_2_0_4_1312664526488103 yiv1856354582ms__id11443"   style="font-size:large;color:maroon;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:maroon;"  &gt;Layman's 10 Commandments.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN:center;" class="yiv1856354582ecxyiv1459616517MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:maroon;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:maroon;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Someone has written these beautiful words. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:maroon;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:maroon;"&gt;Read and try to understand the deeper meaning of them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:black;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:blue;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt;  Prayer is not a "spare wheel" that you pull out when in trouble, but it  is a "steering wheel" that directs the right path throughout life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:black;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:blue;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt;  Why is a car's windshield so large &amp;amp; the rearview mirror so small?  Because our PAST is not as important as our FUTURE. So, look ahead and  move on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:black;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:blue;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:navy;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt;Friendship is like a BOOK. It takes a few seconds to burn, but it takes years to write. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:navy;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:blue;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt; All things in life are temporary. If they  are going well, enjoy them, they will not last forever. If they are  going wrong, don't worry, they can't last long either. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:black;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:blue;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;5.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:navy;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt;Old  friends are gold! New friends are diamond! If you get a diamond, don't  forget the gold! To hold a diamond, you always need a base of gold! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:x-small;color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:black;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:blue;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;6.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt;  Often when we lose hope and think this is the end, God smiles from  above and says, "Relax, sweetheart; it's just a bend, not the end!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:black;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:blue;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt;  When God solves your problems, you have faith in HIS abilities; when  God doesn't solve your problems, He has faith in YOUR abilities. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:black;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:blue;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;8.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt; A blind person asked St. Anthony: "Can there be anything worse than losing eye sight?" He replied: "Yes, losing your vision!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:blue;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;9.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt;  When you pray for others, God listens to you and blesses them, and  sometimes, when you are safe and happy, remember that someone has prayed  for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;color:black;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:black;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT:bold;font-size:18pt;color:blue;"  &gt;
&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:large;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18pt;color:navy;"&gt;Worrying does not take away tomorrow's  troubles; it takes away today's PEACE.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Maria.    NOw i will go enjoy the PEACE of TODAY.
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-7407491201325300422?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H0ALkkrjSgHisRB7vdnz6x843VU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H0ALkkrjSgHisRB7vdnz6x843VU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/ACZ7rZKAqEk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/7407491201325300422/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=7407491201325300422" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/7407491201325300422?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/7407491201325300422?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/ACZ7rZKAqEk/something-i-read-today-i-needed-to.html" title="Something I read today,    I needed to share it." /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OX7HC748vsM/Tk0zUNTWEbI/AAAAAAAAAUc/WMZtxJTkFTI/s72-c/100_1207.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/08/something-i-read-today-i-needed-to.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkICQXs9cSp7ImA9WhdRGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-6641243360864666999</id><published>2011-08-10T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T08:02:40.569-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-10T08:02:40.569-07:00</app:edited><title>Double Slice Layer Cake Quilt Tutorial</title><content type="html">&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jxC-0T5lXw4?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-6641243360864666999?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pigLF99NeoKnwXW98hhWUTvup2g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pigLF99NeoKnwXW98hhWUTvup2g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/xI3awxBIpTE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/6641243360864666999/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=6641243360864666999" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/6641243360864666999?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/6641243360864666999?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/xI3awxBIpTE/double-slice-layer-cake-quilt-tutorial_10.html" title="Double Slice Layer Cake Quilt Tutorial" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/jxC-0T5lXw4/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/08/double-slice-layer-cake-quilt-tutorial_10.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkECR38yfip7ImA9WhdRGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-1050733680343120094</id><published>2011-08-10T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T08:04:26.196-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-10T08:04:26.196-07:00</app:edited><title>Fast and Easy quilt pattern,,  etc</title><content type="html">I was given the link to this quilt pattern from a friend and find myself just REARING to give it a try.   I have been so excited I mentioned the video to a few friends who have asked for the link.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Well. some(?)days my computing skills are just not functioning very well.   The easiest way I could figure out to "share" this video was through my blog.    So for those of you who are quilters, ENJOY.   If you ever give the design a try, let me know.    
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry for the size of the video,  BUT there is a tab on the actual video so you can go see it at the YouTube site itself.   This would be my suggestion.    The sound quality isn't great either, but the visual will give you what you are looking for.   
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;When i went back to "check" if the video posted,  I was AMAZED to see an add in my side bar for this red "cooker thing" with a timer on it.. THIS is a REAL HOOT as I have recently watched an "infomercial" for this product and myself have been to the site to ponder ordering or not, a few times.     The first visit left me feeling the shipping charge was OUTRAGEOUS.   Seems they must be reading my mind as the shipping cost is now a bit more reasonable.    HMm??   It is perhaps a GOOD thing that the budget is on the tight side this month Because if it were not, i would probably be ordering one for myself.  and someone would get "stuck" with the extra as a Christmas gift..      NO i am NOT RECOMMENDING the product.  I was just personally enthralled with it.    However I am always leery of the "infomercial" products.   So.  best to make one's OWN decisions.   
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;NOW. back to that video and my computer skills, or lack thereof.  I am going to ATTEMPT to get the video to re post at the beginning of this blog..    We shall see if i am successful or not.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;hmm?   well. ok.. FOLLOWING this post,,  You will find the quilting video.    I hope.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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It makes sense.  We HURT.  so we STRIKE out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the hurt is a long hidden emotional ache.   Sometimes the hurt is a long dealt with physical malady.   Sometimes it is a combination of both.  It festers.  It grows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, sometimes.  the deepest of sorrows "hits" us.    and that can take your breath away.   In itself.    Couple that with "all of the above"  and one could fall into a pit of despair that could never be recovered from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my,  I have started this several times now.   I have gone on rants about hurts, and spews, and lava flows of emotional expressions ..  both kind and unkind.    I have spewed,  I have been spewed upon.   Frankly I really dislike this now in vogue saying that "it is what it is".....    the "me" inside myself considers this the same as saying "sh-t happens"  .. and so it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, in my pulled out of the pickle barrel world.  NEXT is.. OK,, WHAT NOW?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we have TODAY.  the PAST is the PAST.  we cannot go there again . the FUTURE is not promised to ANYONE.  we have TODAY.  and THAT is why they call it...........................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE PRESENT,..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.  the GIFT. ..    we have NOW..    that is ALL we have.. THIS second.  THIS moment.    and IF YOU KNEW you had ONLY now..  WHAT WOULD YOU DO???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would choose to LAUGH.  to think of the GOOD things.  to DO SOMETHING.   to SMILE.   To HUG someone.  ANYONE if it were the LAST moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SIDE NOTE.  today I went to lunch with a friend.  In the bathroom, I overheard a conversation.  daughter.  older than me actually,, out washing her hands.  elderly mother in the "stall".. conversing over how she can't "go".. and where are they going next? and WHY are they going to MEIJERS??   a REAL HOOT. ..   and THAT was LOVE.  to me.   I would give anything to have THAT kind of "bathroom talk" with my own mother.   THAT daughter is TOTALLY blessed and IN THE MOMENT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are YOU in THE MOMENT??.  it might be THE BEST moment of your life.  IF you PAY ATTENTION to it.    I came home and KISSED my HUSBAND.  I mean i PAYED ATTENTION and STOPPED him from the "peck on the cheek" and i KISSED him.. it was rather NICE..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE have NOW.  this MOMENT.   You can be pitiful or powerful.  You can sink into overwhelming sorrow. or you can FIND some JOY..... in the MOMENT.  it IS THERE.  you just have to open your eyes and your mind and SEE it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS is the day the LORD has made.  I WILL REJOICE and be glad.     it is a DECISION.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO FOR IT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-3462746521477810456?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZzriAVR_Q_Xco_qW619ppdurisk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZzriAVR_Q_Xco_qW619ppdurisk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/zfl1mlhGBGM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/3462746521477810456/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=3462746521477810456" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/3462746521477810456?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/3462746521477810456?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/zfl1mlhGBGM/finally-feeling-better.html" title="FINALLY feeling  BETTER" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BmLHruGgx9Q/TjI80KtZxEI/AAAAAAAAAUM/vmw7TESb8Bc/s72-c/100_3637.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/07/finally-feeling-better.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cMSH46eyp7ImA9WhZUE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-5963697198248595337</id><published>2011-06-06T10:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T11:31:29.013-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-06T11:31:29.013-07:00</app:edited><title>there WAS a PARTY</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R4pP5J8znGA/Te0cQuV3FwI/AAAAAAAAATs/Ynmdkq8eLj4/s1600/yeah%252C%2Bshe%2Bliked%2Bit.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R4pP5J8znGA/Te0cQuV3FwI/AAAAAAAAATs/Ynmdkq8eLj4/s320/yeah%252C%2Bshe%2Bliked%2Bit.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615175384044082946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9YUoxHom3ls/Te0cQNzxFVI/AAAAAAAAATk/gyGzxp3EpgY/s1600/sisters.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9YUoxHom3ls/Te0cQNzxFVI/AAAAAAAAATk/gyGzxp3EpgY/s320/sisters.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615175375311148370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-js0vzS9yHS8/Te0cPh7riqI/AAAAAAAAATc/7iYBUatUSNs/s1600/funny%2Bfaces.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-js0vzS9yHS8/Te0cPh7riqI/AAAAAAAAATc/7iYBUatUSNs/s320/funny%2Bfaces.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615175363533179554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6R63NzGTbPg/Te0cPGBeZcI/AAAAAAAAATU/La5225mUMRQ/s1600/the%2Bkids%2Band%2Bgrans.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6R63NzGTbPg/Te0cPGBeZcI/AAAAAAAAATU/La5225mUMRQ/s320/the%2Bkids%2Band%2Bgrans.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615175356041291202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jb0-UaICBmw/Te0cRHuPphI/AAAAAAAAAT0/nntzYQqy92A/s1600/flowers%2Bfrom%2Bzeb%2Band%2Bcindy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jb0-UaICBmw/Te0cRHuPphI/AAAAAAAAAT0/nntzYQqy92A/s320/flowers%2Bfrom%2Bzeb%2Band%2Bcindy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615175390857242130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in all of "this".. there was an event I felt was rather special.. a PARTY. for ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bit ago I hit another landmark anniversary of my birth.   i am now SIXTY.    WOW.  just how did THAT happen?    I remember TWO.   five,  and on it goes.  SIXTY?  sixty is supposed to be OLD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel OLD.  I feel pretty darn good.    in most respects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually,  since I was about twenty,  I have said that "middle age" is SIXTY.   hmm,??  I guess I have now "hit" middle age.     So be it.   giggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My DEAR husband and my baby girl orchestrated a PARTY for ME.  Most of my family now lives in Ohio.    I have yearned for a SURPRISE party since I was forty.  THAT is NOT going to happen.   However.  they gave me the next best thing.     My Ohio clan,  and part of my Michigan clan drove to a place in Toledo,   the halfway mark to CELEBRATE me.     After all, it just seems improper to have a party for ones self.   WRONG.  I was just OVERJOYED that some THOUGHT of it,  and REMEMBERED.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so TODAY i am going to CELEBRATE all the AWESOME FAMILY I HAVE.  and the ones that REMEMBERED me.      SOMETIMES that is what we need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a BLAST and I NEEDED IT.     FAMILY.. we  ALL need the love of our family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-5963697198248595337?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PONSZWNWPOAg5JpmQTtTQ4vUays/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PONSZWNWPOAg5JpmQTtTQ4vUays/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/IUb-RrI6dz4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/5963697198248595337/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=5963697198248595337" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/5963697198248595337?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/5963697198248595337?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/IUb-RrI6dz4/there-was-party.html" title="there WAS a PARTY" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R4pP5J8znGA/Te0cQuV3FwI/AAAAAAAAATs/Ynmdkq8eLj4/s72-c/yeah%252C%2Bshe%2Bliked%2Bit.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/06/there-was-party.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEBSHY8cSp7ImA9WhZWGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-7102985888837087084</id><published>2011-05-20T13:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T13:50:59.879-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-20T13:50:59.879-07:00</app:edited><title>there ARE no WORDS.</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GEqxlXCOQKY/TdbT5sMMoVI/AAAAAAAAATI/bHLnvQ4M-dc/s1600/DavidAlan%2Band%2Bfam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GEqxlXCOQKY/TdbT5sMMoVI/AAAAAAAAATI/bHLnvQ4M-dc/s320/DavidAlan%2Band%2Bfam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608903374004855122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well..  THE worst of what could be has happened.   yes. we all knew eventually IT would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the natural order of things, parents do not bury their children. Yet. ALAS.  sometimes this DOES happen.  and we ACHE to our VERY BONES..   but.  it happens.    sometimes.  IF WE COULD "trade spaces"  i would SURELY have traded this one.  As well as many others who loved our SON.    but God does not give us this option.   sniffles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH. we all want to think it happens to "the others"..  ALAS.  it has happened to US.  now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems we all handle this differently.     Some want TOTAL seclusion.   to get their heads together. to MOURN.   I understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others.   the CLAN, the FAMILY comes together.   to divert?  to get rowdy?  to CELEBRATE the LIFE that has left us WAY too soon.   THIS is NOT a quiet time.  THIS is a time to DIVERT the MOST HURT  and bring her, them, back into a GLIMMER of LIFE again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE STAND TOGETHER.  we HELP each other get through this MOST HORRIBLE of times.  the SORROWS are OVERWHELMING.  but IF.  IF. we can LAUGH.  IF we REMEMBER the GOOD TIMES.  and IF WE HOLD TOGETHER.    ..  WE WILL GET THROUGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our son was a MOST EXCELLENT man.  he LOVED his CHILDREN and HIS WIFE. and HIS FAMILY.   it is SAD he was TAKEN from us so soon..  why?  we may not know that answer til we see HIM face to face  and ask.   (actually i don't think we HAVE to ask.  I think HE will be there and SHOW US the WHY?  at that time.  and THEN we will "get it"..  OK. i KNOW THIS in my DEEPEST BONES as well)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD IS GOOD.   yes, even in THIS i KNOW..  GOD IS GOOD.   i KNOW in my DEEPEST OF BEING that there IS a PERFECT PLAN for EACH of us.   THIS PLAN.   for now . "SUCKS CANAL WATER".   but THAT is MY opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am i sad?  YES.  am i ANGRY?  HECK YES at a LOT of things.    do i still TRUST GOD . YES MOST OF ALL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for i KNOW the PLANS i HAVE FOR YOU..  etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we here cry and sorrow.  BUT I KNOW .. GOD IS GOOD. and HE HAS the PERFECT PLAN for EACH of us.    crazy thought, isn't it???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-7102985888837087084?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I7YFIC5n37BRntQ6vqDunj_erIs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I7YFIC5n37BRntQ6vqDunj_erIs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/5z-P9klo_9Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/7102985888837087084/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=7102985888837087084" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/7102985888837087084?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/7102985888837087084?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/5z-P9klo_9Q/there-are-no-words.html" title="there ARE no WORDS." /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GEqxlXCOQKY/TdbT5sMMoVI/AAAAAAAAATI/bHLnvQ4M-dc/s72-c/DavidAlan%2Band%2Bfam.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/05/there-are-no-words.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMMR3k8eip7ImA9WhZWFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-2343434273112165439</id><published>2011-05-17T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T11:38:06.772-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-17T11:38:06.772-07:00</app:edited><title>SORROW</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cV4dh8Gq67g/TdLAbhxbqdI/AAAAAAAAATA/abvbkdAsbCk/s1600/animals%2Banimals.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 298px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cV4dh8Gq67g/TdLAbhxbqdI/AAAAAAAAATA/abvbkdAsbCk/s320/animals%2Banimals.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607756065184393682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THERE has been a LOT of sorrow rolling around in this world lately.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my critics, OF COURSE this is NOT the sorrow that is taking us to our knees.   This is merely a "side trip"  an "extra sorrow" put on our shoulders.  PERHAPS it is one to take our focus away from the WORST of them.. for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YESTERDAY I had to send my LAST cat off for "the last ride".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her name was Penney.. We affectionately called her "Penny fuzzy face"..  I remember when she first arrived,, she had a song of her own.. Penney, fuzzy face,  such a fuzzy face.. Penney fuzzy face, such a PRETTY face.  Her name was Penney as she had a circular copper colored "space" on her neck.  Penny sized.  and so she was Penney.    She would come to her song.   I know the grans remember.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was a "rescued cat".. from "the pound" and originally belonged to my daughter.   Daughter and hubby had a house.   sold the house.  moved into apartment.  cat. OOPS.  so OF COURSE the cat came HERE.  We already had a dog. ONE at the time. and a cat.   Sydney.  Sydney had finally become "top cat" as the other cat, the MUCH YOUNGER cat,, lost his life.  wasted away. gone.  so a FRIEND for Syd?  right.. NOPE.   Sydney was ENJOYING the TOP CAT mode.  a NEW cat attempting to SHARE THE BED. not going to happen. YET IT DID.   giggle.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two cats.  one BIG dog.  worked.   eventually.  but THEN there were TWO DOGS.  a baby pup arrived.  SAME SIZE as Miss Penney. and HE LOVED HER. he LOVED to JUMP on her.  as in a RUNNING JUMP from ACROSS THE ROOM.   KABOOM. and the two seemed to semi ENJOY this fun.  They were friends.    Even in the last days Scuds would have miss Penny on the floor and would be GROOMING HER EAR.   who EVER SAW THAT?  A DOG grooming a cat?/ i ask ya?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALAS.  Penny got older ... and poor Sydney left us.    and then there was this THIRD dog.  The REALLY BIGG dog.  But THIS dog NEVER "bothered" miss Penney.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it was just time.  I discovered she was minimum ELEVEN years old and NOT the seven i thought.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT.. the cat poo.  OH myyy.  I HAVE NEVER had a cat who flatly REFUSED to poo in the litter box. WHAT IS THIS???   went on for a LOOONG time.  MONTHS. perhaps a year. We had thought it was the "sick kitty"  until the sick kitty left us.  OH MY..   NOT GOOD.    yet.  it was always DOWNstairs and NOT upstairs in the PEOPLE LIVING SPACE.  good.   WELL.. NOT good. but we could DEAL with this.   or kind of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN.  the WORST happened. one night. poop on the bathroom floor. OH NOOO.  bad enough that a FEW times it was in THE TUB. but ON THE FLOOR.!!!   NOT good. and SHE WAS TOLD. if you EVER do THAT upstairs again. YOU ARE A GONER..  so. WARNING was issued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then.. OK.   ... back tracking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANY FOOD on ANY surface was GAME for miss Penney.. we bought her GOOD food. IMES.  etc.  canned food twice a day..  she was getting SKINNY. huh?  all of a sudden the dry was NOT good enough. she wanted PEOPLE FOOD. huh?    MAKING DINNER was an ORDEAL.  one hand preparing.. the other TOSSING THE CAT off the counter. NOT good.  ONE evening she even STOle A PORK CHOP right out of the frying pan.  REALLY.  ye GADS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;finally.  she POOPED on the KITCHEN counter.  it was THE GAUNTLET.  yes. perhaps sick. but NO way can this be tolerated or ignored.  THE DECISION was made.  hmmm?   150 bucks for the vet. or 50 to take her on "the last ride".. TOUGH economy.   I CAN'T GO to the docs..   and my trip is 100.  OK. NO BRAINER.  the time HAS come.   sniffles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Penney's last night.  when "the others" were asleep.. she once again sat on my lap and purred away.   and THEN Scuds got envious...  but WOW. this NEVER happened. the pup got on my lap WITH the cat.  Oh.  WOW.  Scuds trying to knock the cat off.  the cat DETERMINED to STAY her PLACE.  it was a HOOT .. and SOMEHOW they BOTH sat there.  for a bit.  just BEING TOGETHER.    a real MOMENT. wish i would have had the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penney is gone.  i HOPE she will be there waiting for me at the Rainbow bridge.   I don't know what else i could have done.  SO MUCH going on around here lately.    i HAVE SCRUBBED DOWN the studio i hope for the last time.  cat poo.. cat barf. etc.   a MESS.  I have not done away with her "studio toys".. a fish.  a circular thing.  i have done away with the batting she LOVED to sit in.    SIGH. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a big salad for dinner last night.  cutting,, chopping.   a TACO salad EVENT.   grating cheese.   DEFROSTING anything.   OH.  I CAN DO THIS without a CAT trying to EAT the FROZEN MEAT. the CHEEESEEE,, etc etc.....  oh.. NICE.. good.   i ATE DINNER without a cat trying to PLUCK food OFF MY PLATE.  yes. this is GOOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yet, i MISS her.. she had a HARD life... or DID she??.  i tend to SPOIL the PETS.   ya think???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i LOVE CATS.  i LOVE the way they PURR.  i sometimes imagine. when things are going really bad.  to BE A CAT on the LAP of JESUS. and to just PURR... oh what a thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO MORE CATS.  it HURTS to much when you loose them.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but ALAS. there are OTHER HURTS..   so. the cat gone.  is a side trip...  and it takes your mind off of OTHER things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD IS SOO GOOD.  HE KNOWS.  and HE HOLDS US in the PALM OF HIS HAND.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-2343434273112165439?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J-_SWd9RN8tjSWqRGEp8KnYRHhQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J-_SWd9RN8tjSWqRGEp8KnYRHhQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~4/5tlByPCtT3o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/feeds/2343434273112165439/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8383443369281300520&amp;postID=2343434273112165439" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/2343434273112165439?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8383443369281300520/posts/default/2343434273112165439?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/HePulledMeOutOfThePickleBarrel/~3/5tlByPCtT3o/sorrow.html" title="SORROW" /><author><name>kathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09207719752112972174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ynkZgPquQyc/SOxVjFTCX9I/AAAAAAAAABk/HD6zPfE2fqY/S220/100_0913.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cV4dh8Gq67g/TdLAbhxbqdI/AAAAAAAAATA/abvbkdAsbCk/s72-c/animals%2Banimals.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com/2011/05/sorrow.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkENRn09fSp7ImA9WhZQFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8383443369281300520.post-8355389532543424893</id><published>2011-04-23T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T10:11:37.365-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-23T10:11:37.365-07:00</app:edited><title>LOOK at what is in MY refrigerator!!</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tJxoQbu27e8/TbMHKHW6UMI/AAAAAAAAASY/l8Kyolhj-qI/s1600/corsage%2B2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tJxoQbu27e8/TbMHKHW6UMI/AAAAAAAAASY/l8Kyolhj-qI/s320/corsage%2B2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598826632106889410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c5xFOkujHHc/TbMHJtVCb3I/AAAAAAAAASQ/MVRjbPy8jfI/s1600/corsage%2B1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c5xFOkujHHc/TbMHJtVCb3I/AAAAAAAAASQ/MVRjbPy8jfI/s320/corsage%2B1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598826625119711090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N7aAT1YlTkA/TbMHJR-OhYI/AAAAAAAAASI/6lFF7_pbdZw/s1600/corsage%2B2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N7aAT1YlTkA/TbMHJR-OhYI/AAAAAAAAASI/6lFF7_pbdZw/s320/corsage%2B2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598826617776276866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will also add,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOPSIES and events that seem BAD at the moment CAN work into REALLY WONDERFUL BLESSINGS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL things work TOGETHER for GOOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MY ways are NOT your ways.  MY thoughts are NOT your thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and as always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD is IN CONTROL.   HE'S got YOUR BACK.   ALWAYS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last 24 hours two events have come into my sphere of life.  Both of which, at the onset, seemed NOT good.   Mistakes.  Ooopsies.  and the first. OH MY,, this is BAD stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the FIRST one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good friend of mine lives in Nebraska.  They have been hit HARD with even MORE snow than one should experience in the MONTH OF APRIL.   a LOT.   Snow melts.  rains come. MORE snow comes.  MORE melting.  The water table is SATURATED in her area.   Oh oh.  NOT good.  This friend is also a machine quilter.  the BIGGG machines.   Hmm?  studio IN WATER.   oh NO you are NOT quilting with WET FEET?  AGGH!!!!  Not to even ponder WHAT is happening with all the battings, fabrics, etc in DAMP conditions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay.   My friends darling spouse wanted to invite company for Easter dinner.   My friend is also. like many of us.  having EXTREME sinus issues.    She is NOT in the mood for "company".. company means CLEANING and COOKING and when one is under the weather. NOT what you want to or even can do.. No matter how hard you might want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TA DAAAAA.    water in the BASEMENT.  oopsies.    Playpens for napping etc of visiting children are set up in basement.  NO CAN DO.     RESOLUTION.  Easter dinner SOMEPLACE ELSE..   WHOO HOOO!!   AND the BEST part is that OTHERS made SAID resolution.   yes.  GOD IS SO GOOD.    water in basement NOT good.   Sinus, achey,  feeling bad, NOT good.   PRESSURE OFF due to WATER in basement.   oh YEAH.  GOD has HER BACK.     In a few weeks her company WILL come.   By then,  water will be gone.  and her sinus aches will be taken care of.  WIN. WIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW for MY little event.    My husband is AWESOME.  Some things he doesn't remember very well.    The great DESIRE of EVERY Easter for me, is to have an EASTER CORSAGE.   When i was a wee child, i remember, one of my FIRST "church memories" was Easter Sunday.  and my new dress, my straw hat, my itty bitty purse,  my pastel jacket, and a CORSAGE.   I remember my FATHER next to me in church..  EASTER is MY DAD and MY CORSAGE.   and CHURCH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.   we invited our neighbor to go to services with us Good Friday.   My SWEET husband,  took a walk to the florist.  Friday.  He ordered up TWO corsages.  wow.   one for me. one for neighbor.   My darling then comes home and says he can pick them up Saturday morning for "church" Saturday night.   ah.  yes.   you can SEE  the LOOK on my face.    ah, honey.  TODAY is GOOD Friday..  we are going to church TONIGHT.   with neighbor.     (my inside is saying.  ah. OK.  a corsage for Good Friday is NOT appropriate.  HUH?  WHAT were YOU THINKING?..  but i held that one back.  giggle)      BUT.   well. the corsages were picked up TODAY.  and GUESS WHAT..............................  I HAVE A CORSAGE for EASTER SUNDAY.!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOw Darling David has been "reminded" by my children when they were "at home" that MOM WANTS A CORSAGE for Easter.  Sometimes this works.  USUALLY it does not..  Now. since the kids are long on their own.    well. Let us just say,  it has been MANY YEARS since i have had an EASTER CORSAGE.      I am TOTALLY AGLOW with the LOVE of both my husband, but also for GOD just MAKING this happen.    WOW. huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now alas,   the phone rang a wee bit ago.   WORRISOME news.   A very much loved one is again in the hospital.  His wife is again torn.  she has been through so very much in the past months.  Nearly a year now.   the "patient" is the one who gets all the attention, the tending to, the worries, the cards, the phone calls. and on it goes.   BUT i KNOW it is THE CARETAKER.  the SPOUSE, who carries an EXTREME burden in all of this.  Most of the time without anyone really stopping to ask.  HOW ARE YOU?    Well.  the patient is in the hospital.   He is under GOOD care.  There are MANY watching over him tonight.     NOW perhaps the CARETAKER can TAKE CARE of HERSELF.  and her children.   for tonight.    and perhaps tomorrow.   For today and tonight and hopefully tomorrow..   BREATH FREE.  he is under GOOD care.  there is NOTHING she can DO that she has NOT ALREADY DONE.  for the patient.   RELAX my dear.   dye the Easter eggs.   hide em..  hide the baskets.  (the basket in the OVEN was always the HARD ONE to find.. giggle)   Let the kids TRASH the house.  in whatever manner they wish..  stay UP LATE.   really LATE.  giggling and eating "early Easter candy" on the sofa while watching a GOOD movie.   GIGGLE.   Let them HANG from the CEILING FAN.   under YOUR WATCH of course.  but HAVE FUN.  RELISH the MOMENT.      RELAX.  he is under the GOOD CARE of OTHERS.  YOU BE YOU..  for a wee bit.   ENJOY LIFE.   YOU ARE AWESOME.   just DO IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS ALSO is a BREATHER.   yes. a GIFT FROM GOD.  "left handed"  so it is..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL things work TOGETHER for GOOD.  etc etc etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-8355389532543424893?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Any complaints about how we  operate, can be forwarded to 0800-waa-waa with Dr. Snivill. Reporting  LIVE from Quitchur Gripin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;I do not know who to give official credit to for the above statement.  A good friend of mine posted it on facebook a few moments ago.    So whoever came up with this,  THANK YOU and please don't be upset if i have not given you proper credit.  In fact, THAT is SO GOOD and worth reading and DIGESTING.. I'm going to print it again.&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BREAKING  NEWS: The Pity Train has just derailed at the intersection of Suck It  Up &amp;amp; Move On, and crashed into We All Have Problems, before coming  to a complete stop at Get the Heck Over It. Any complaints about how we  operate, can be forwarded to 0800-waa-waa with Dr. Snivill. Reporting  LIVE from Quitchur Gripin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The date tells me it is SPRING!!!  The temperature here,  almost 31, tells me it is COLD. Brr.  There is still snow on the ground.    BUT the SUN is SHINING.    GOOD.  That is an excellent start.    TODAY I woke up.. I got OUT of bed.   There are many who did not accomplish this.   Today I am fortunate enough to be able to breath,  to see, to use my hands, to use my legs, to hear, to think, to speak, to remember, to love, to BE.  I AM.   Today I woke up on THIS side of the muddy, empty, gloomy flower bed.  WHOO HOOOO.  another chance..  a NEW beginning.  THIS IS TODAY.    THIS is NOW.   and I AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT CAN i DO today?    I can CHOOSE to LIVE.. today.   NOW.  I may NOT have tomorrow.  or even an hour from now.  BUT I HAVE NOW.   THIS moment.  So WHAT should i DO with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long ago I was told it takes much more energy and creates many more wrinkles to frown, as opposed to SMILE.   Ok.  i WILL smile.    I'm getting up there and ANY savings of both energy and wrinkles is an EXCELLENT thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we all have problems.  we all have WOES.   We all have aches, pains, and FEARS.  A great many FEARS.    And SORROWS.   many sorrows.   This is called LIFE.    WE also have JOYS.   GREAT joys.    TODAY I will COUNT THE JOYS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS IS the day the LORD has made.  I WILL rejoice and BE glad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD made EVERY day.   We may not always FEEL like rejoicing.   THAT is a CHOICE.    Often, to REJOICE is HARD WORK.  To look for and FIND the JOY in many a day is a MOST difficult task.     But AGAIN..........ALL things work TOGETHER for GOOD.  etc etc etc.  Even the DARKEST of DARKS can and WILL some day turn into a GREAT JOY.   as.. "MY ways are NOT your ways.  MY thoughts are NOT your thoughts"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i am going to TRY to wrap my mind around HIS thoughts.   and remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;BREAKING  NEWS: The Pity Train has just derailed at the intersection of Suck It  Up &amp;amp; Move On, and crashed into We All Have Problems, before coming  to a complete stop at Get the Heck Over It. Any complaints about how we  operate, can be forwarded to 0800-waa-waa with Dr. Snivill. Reporting  LIVE from Quitchur Gripin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8383443369281300520-1669605522087562342?l=hepulledmeoutofthepicklebarrel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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