<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?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;CkcHRn0_eSp7ImA9WhRaFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222</id><updated>2012-02-16T08:33:57.341-08:00</updated><category term="cooking" /><category term="idaho hiking country" /><category term="bumble bees" /><category term="rules" /><category term="cancer" /><category term="animals" /><category term="mommies" /><category term="wild animals" /><category term="free" /><category term="zebras" /><category term="favorite peeps" /><category term="stowaway" /><category term="peeps" /><category term="seal" /><category term="gardens" /><category term="christmas" /><category term="marriage" /><category term="relationships" /><category term="green eyed zombie" /><category term="flower" /><category term="eagle soaring" /><category term="kittens" /><category term="familiy" /><category term="duffle bag" /><category term="freedom" /><category term="pengiun" /><category term="kidney stones" /><category term="the diaper head club" /><category term="artist" /><category term="mothers" /><category term="life experiences" /><category term="memories" /><category term="grandchildren" /><category term="smiling disease" /><category term="grandparents" /><category term="family" /><category term="broken legs" /><category term="nuture" /><category term="bull snakes" /><category term="mariage" /><category term="bison" /><category term="happiness" /><category term="harry boy" /><category term="olmpicgamefarm" /><category term="leapfrog leapster gamebox" /><category term="friends" /><category term="plant" /><category term="sharing" /><category term="women" /><category term="choice" /><category term="accidents" /><category term="children" /><category term="naps" /><category term="fixing boo boos" /><category term="fun in the sun" /><category term="sleeping beauty" /><category term="squirrel" /><category term="dogs" /><category term="divorce" /><category term="parenting" /><category term="fallow deer" /><category term="communities" /><category term="decorating christmas tree" /><category term="llamas" /><category term="life with cancer" /><category term="families" /><category term="wildflower" /><category term="napping cats" /><category term="lounging" /><category term="life" /><category term="xmas" /><category term="sleeping" /><category term="friendship" /><category term="smiles" /><category term="bengal tigers" /><category term="harry" /><category term="holidays" /><category term="life challenges" /><category term="sleeping puppy" /><category term="rock gardens" /><category term="alcoholic" /><category term="men" /><category term="true talent" /><category term="horses" /><category term="pilot peak" /><category term="american elk" /><category term="love" /><category term="health" /><category term="planting flowers" /><title>JungleLuv</title><subtitle type="html">a constant maze in the jungle of life...</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</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/Jungleluv" /><feedburner:info uri="jungleluv" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>Jungleluv</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYNSHs_fSp7ImA9WhRQEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-5563231885198431982</id><published>2011-12-04T09:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T09:36:39.545-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-04T09:36:39.545-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="decorating christmas tree" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="xmas" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>The Thrill of Decorating the Christmas Tree</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HiexJKVyfPQ/TtusT7Cuu4I/AAAAAAAAHGY/ypeFBj_l73c/s1600/untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="298" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HiexJKVyfPQ/TtusT7Cuu4I/AAAAAAAAHGY/ypeFBj_l73c/s400/untitled.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Awe. I love the Christmas time of the year. With my little one Bianca, I swear there is more excitement when it comes with children. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To see the delight and twinkle in her eyes is so worth while. We went and picked up our Christmas tree last night. I could hardly get her to go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Those sleepy little eyes refused to want to give up for the day with the anticipation of decorating it tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After a few minutes of tears and plenty of reassurance that the tree would be waiting for her tomorrow-she finally calmed down and fell fast asleep. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our morning started with homemade waffles by daddy, hot cocoa. Breakfast is out of the way. Time to tear open all the decorations. Bianca is so estatic she can hardly contain herself. But its time for decorating big Christmas tree folks. Are you ready for the Christmas season? We are. Money maybe sparce but are hearts are filled with joy looking forward to the holiday season. Merry Christmas to all of my JungleLuv friends and Happy Holidays. May we find you safe and well throughout the rest of 2011.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-5563231885198431982?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mwyCsGrto3eAiMZMLz2AdUFgqGs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mwyCsGrto3eAiMZMLz2AdUFgqGs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mwyCsGrto3eAiMZMLz2AdUFgqGs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mwyCsGrto3eAiMZMLz2AdUFgqGs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/mpu_5PQOF3w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/5563231885198431982/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/12/thrill-of-decorating-christmas-tree.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/5563231885198431982?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/5563231885198431982?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/mpu_5PQOF3w/thrill-of-decorating-christmas-tree.html" title="The Thrill of Decorating the Christmas Tree" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HiexJKVyfPQ/TtusT7Cuu4I/AAAAAAAAHGY/ypeFBj_l73c/s72-c/untitled.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/12/thrill-of-decorating-christmas-tree.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAGSXs7eyp7ImA9WhRREEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-9089278578612122110</id><published>2011-11-23T15:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T15:25:28.503-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-23T15:25:28.503-08:00</app:edited><title>Happy Thanksgiving to All My Friends</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I just wanted to wish all of you the very best throughout the Thankgiving Weekend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;May you all be blessed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Give thanks for all the little things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And for having such a wonderful family to share them wish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Happy Thanksgiving! xoxoxoxo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-9089278578612122110?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f_rnebJuu0urz-OX4YCWStztKes/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f_rnebJuu0urz-OX4YCWStztKes/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/dZMpFxeiHUI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/9089278578612122110/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/11/happy-thanksgiving-to-all-my-friends.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/9089278578612122110?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/9089278578612122110?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/dZMpFxeiHUI/happy-thanksgiving-to-all-my-friends.html" title="Happy Thanksgiving to All My Friends" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/11/happy-thanksgiving-to-all-my-friends.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkANQX45fSp7ImA9WhdaFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-2577433819881427667</id><published>2011-10-25T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T13:33:10.025-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-25T13:33:10.025-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stowaway" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="harry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="duffle bag" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><title>Harry the Stowaway</title><content type="html">&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;What is a Stowaway?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
A &lt;em&gt;person&lt;/em&gt;, or &lt;em&gt;dog&lt;/em&gt; who hides themselves so they can get a free ride on a plane, train or automobile. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;In this case;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; we have &lt;em&gt;Harry &lt;/em&gt;my &lt;em&gt;11 year old Jack Russel&lt;/em&gt;. Our family is going on a road trip over to Idaho for some hiking, hunting and leisurely fun. But I think poor little Harry thinks he is going to be left behind. I had asked Bianca my little girl&amp;nbsp;to pack her bag with her favorite comfort items. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GpzoBZ9fZRk/TqcaeI8i68I/AAAAAAAAHFE/eIxKFPPcjVc/s1600/10-25+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GpzoBZ9fZRk/TqcaeI8i68I/AAAAAAAAHFE/eIxKFPPcjVc/s400/10-25+004.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Harry says he's definitely a &lt;em&gt;comfort item&lt;/em&gt;. He also says mama has to have him along. If you look closely at the picture you can see he is looking at me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;But he is so hoping I don't see him!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then Harry decided he wasn't going to be left out so he jumped in on top of her favorite blankets and just cozied right on down among them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I first got Harry; I trained him to get inside a duffle bag so I could sneek him into a hotel. He would be very still untils we got inside&amp;nbsp;our hotel room. Then I would unzip the duffle bag and he would jump out like a &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jack in the Box&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. He is too funny! I can't believe&amp;nbsp;on February 28 he will be 12 years old. He has totally given me some wonderful memories.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--HrqOnAupYw/TqccC7_Ab5I/AAAAAAAAHFM/hjphTUNrFcU/s1600/10-25+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--HrqOnAupYw/TqccC7_Ab5I/AAAAAAAAHFM/hjphTUNrFcU/s400/10-25+005.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-2577433819881427667?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M66bRfhUnDyyzHZophFYvxcreOI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M66bRfhUnDyyzHZophFYvxcreOI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/w0RKTTPd3dA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/2577433819881427667/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/10/harry-stowaway.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/2577433819881427667?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/2577433819881427667?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/w0RKTTPd3dA/harry-stowaway.html" title="Harry the Stowaway" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GpzoBZ9fZRk/TqcaeI8i68I/AAAAAAAAHFE/eIxKFPPcjVc/s72-c/10-25+004.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/10/harry-stowaway.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4DSXk5fCp7ImA9WhdbGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-904819112143311383</id><published>2011-10-18T10:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T10:12:58.724-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-18T10:12:58.724-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mariage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life experiences" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="familiy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children" /><title>Celebrate Life</title><content type="html">&amp;nbsp;Today was the day to go through emails and clean house of my inbox; when I came across this email. I though you guys would also appreciate it as much as I did.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;One day a woman's husband died,&lt;/strong&gt; and on that clear, cold morning, in the warmth of their bedroom, the wife was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't "anymore".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PrZu1hcNitA/Tp2yYSOfzEI/AAAAAAAAG5I/YL64u5HJ3JA/s1600/Rock+Garden+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PrZu1hcNitA/Tp2yYSOfzEI/AAAAAAAAG5I/YL64u5HJ3JA/s400/Rock+Garden+013.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No more hugs,&lt;/strong&gt; no more special moments to celebrate together, no more phone calls just to chat, no more "just one minute."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, what we care about the most gets all used up and goes away, never to return before we can say “good-bye”, say "I love you."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So while we have it, it's best we love it, care for it, fix it when it's broken and heal it when it's sick.&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;This is true for marriage.....And old cars... And children with bad report cards, and dogs with bad hips, and aging parents and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things we keep -- like a best friend who moved away or a sister-in-law after divorce. There are just some things that make us happy, no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is important, like people we know who are special.. And so, we keep them close!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received this from someone who thought I was a 'keeper'! Then I sent it to the people I think of in the same way... Now it's your turn to send this to all those people who are "keepers" in your life, including the person who sent it, if you feel that way. Suppose one morning you never wake up, do all your friends know you love them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let every one of your friends know you love them. Even if you think they don't love you back. And just in case I'm gone tomorrow:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I LOVE YA!!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Live today because tomorrow is not promised.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-904819112143311383?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dSDmLB7XQO0Kob3ayh2bfyXjKHc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dSDmLB7XQO0Kob3ayh2bfyXjKHc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/5B05Hwxi5AM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/904819112143311383/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/10/celebrate-life.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/904819112143311383?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/904819112143311383?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/5B05Hwxi5AM/celebrate-life.html" title="Celebrate Life" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PrZu1hcNitA/Tp2yYSOfzEI/AAAAAAAAG5I/YL64u5HJ3JA/s72-c/Rock+Garden+013.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/10/celebrate-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UGQnk_fip7ImA9WhdUFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-3639805204024396104</id><published>2011-10-03T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T11:07:03.746-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-03T11:07:03.746-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="choice" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="free" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="freedom" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="eagle soaring" /><title>Do You Soar Across The Sky With Your Freedom Intact?</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZCuJK8-5Ldk/TonujoC6ZXI/AAAAAAAAFNQ/nQw_G7-UC1E/s1600/Eagle+Soaring.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="257" kca="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZCuJK8-5Ldk/TonujoC6ZXI/AAAAAAAAFNQ/nQw_G7-UC1E/s400/Eagle+Soaring.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;What do you see before thee?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
A bird, an eagle soaring across the vast blue sky. But is that all you see? &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Come on now look harder and feel what you see.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I see freedom soaring off the tips of the eagles wings. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
A pride that stands above all boundries and a powerful stature to be.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
No gags, or ties bounding my mouth, hands or feet.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Freedom of speech.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Freedom to be me, gay or straight laced.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Choices to prevail with my mind sake.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;So now I ask what do you see?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;What binds your freedom flight? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Anger, sadness or a sicken mind.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Anger that binds your heart so tight &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
then holds back&amp;nbsp;your eagle&amp;nbsp;in flight.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
A sadness that down poors your wings with weight &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
so you can not take off in flight.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
A sicken mind that pain endures &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
and forever burys the bright blue sky.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Lucky You and Me with Freedoms Choice. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Freedom to choose where you live,&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
A house, townhome, condo, a grand estate.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
A state, country, or space beyond.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Freedom to choose what you drive, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
A truck, car, suv, or catored limosine ride.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Travel in a bus, airplane, or a mission to the moon.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Freedom to choose how you eat, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
A choice to be well from pain with only the bite of a single grain.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
With fruits and veggies galore.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
We choose greasy burgers with fries.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Only for our cells live or die.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Freedom to choose what&amp;nbsp;we wear,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Quirky, qacky, grunge, professional, ready to wear&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
we have the choice with our fashion flair&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
whats in, whats not, its all by freedoms choice.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Were quite lucky you and me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
To have the freedom to free. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
So take your eagle flight.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
And soar above the starry sky.&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-3639805204024396104?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w9K-JRPX5_i7_fIyndlj6QUp8E8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w9K-JRPX5_i7_fIyndlj6QUp8E8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/iu7A1Z4WEtU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/3639805204024396104/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/10/do-you-soar-across-sky-with-your.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/3639805204024396104?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/3639805204024396104?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/iu7A1Z4WEtU/do-you-soar-across-sky-with-your.html" title="Do You Soar Across The Sky With Your Freedom Intact?" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZCuJK8-5Ldk/TonujoC6ZXI/AAAAAAAAFNQ/nQw_G7-UC1E/s72-c/Eagle+Soaring.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/10/do-you-soar-across-sky-with-your.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YHQXY8cCp7ImA9WhdUEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-3105373483424574192</id><published>2011-09-27T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T11:45:30.878-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-27T11:45:30.878-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="smiling disease" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life experiences" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="smiles" /><title>Have You Shared the Smiling Disease Today?</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is the Smiling Disease?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Its definitely contagious.&lt;/strong&gt; But not in the sense that it will make you ill. It could make you sick with laughter if the mood strikes you right. It is contagious in the fact that when a friend, acqaintence or stranger says something kind or compliments you about something. Like you look nice today. Or ask how are you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tIjhOyNgVUk/ToIRx4ve2lI/AAAAAAAAE6Q/EDanD1B9wOE/s1600/Smiling+Disease1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="196" kca="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tIjhOyNgVUk/ToIRx4ve2lI/AAAAAAAAE6Q/EDanD1B9wOE/s400/Smiling+Disease1.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;There are several ways to share the smiling disease. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Face to Face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Do you ever ask the checker at the grocery store how he or she is doing? They look worn out from checking out your clothing, groceries, etc all day long. Most of the time people are too busy to even say hello, or how are you. Its a crying shame. I try every time I go shopping to acknowledge the checker and ask them; how ARE you today or how's your day been going? The minute I say that a huge smile crosses their face. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;We then proceed to a meaningful&lt;/strong&gt; and warm conversation that leaves us both feeling great. Remember we all work, we all get tired at the end of the day. But thats no excuse for becoming edgy and grumpy and taking it out on those around you. Cheer up, smile your alive and well. And your awesome.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Social Networks &amp;amp; Social Media&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Do you join social networks online?&lt;/strong&gt; Are you one of those who just use social networks to just promote your junk. Or do you join to meet, greet and make online friends, and acqaintences. I love joining new social networks. I'm a reading alcoholic for online information. I'm intrigued by other people across the internet divide. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I join to vote, follow, and comment&lt;/strong&gt; on others in a very positive way and share my smiling disease in an internal, social manner. I wish I could see their faces as they read my pleasant comments or votes, reviews.&amp;nbsp;Our world has become a very negative place. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The media spends more time spreading negative junk even if its untrue. If its a story they will write it even if the facts are all wrong. The funniest thing is I don't care to hear about it. I'm a blogger and journalist and I love to share a positive story one thats with true and actual facts.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Its all too easy to talk and share negitive crap. But it takes a little effort to share and muster up some smiling and laughter that could last all day long.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;One smile or nice gesture&lt;/strong&gt; can cause a sunshine rising that can spread all across the world if you will it to happen. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Lets share the&amp;nbsp;smiling disease.&lt;/strong&gt; Go out a give someone a compliment today or ask them "How are you today?".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;A Smiling Disease Poem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;OOPS Did you see that?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Your smile ran away.&lt;br /&gt;
When someone had something negative to say.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Negative sayings need to be put in the trash.&lt;br /&gt;
Where smelly, foul,&amp;nbsp;nasty things live.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Being positive is easier to give.&lt;br /&gt;
Oh look; your smile came back today.&lt;br /&gt;
When your brother shared something special with you today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A hi or how are you.&lt;br /&gt;
You look awesome or grand.&lt;br /&gt;
Always makes for a grand stand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So put your smiling disease on.&lt;br /&gt;
So it will shine on and on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One little kind word said.&lt;br /&gt;
Will kill the negative disease dead.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Try it you might like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-3105373483424574192?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WhrUHWgJ3Mw/Tn3kWS9co6I/AAAAAAAAE1U/t_Zpx5-IvsY/s1600/cup+of+coffee.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hca="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WhrUHWgJ3Mw/Tn3kWS9co6I/AAAAAAAAE1U/t_Zpx5-IvsY/s1600/cup+of+coffee.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I don't know how your morning starts.&lt;/strong&gt; But my morning starts with my 3 year Bianca waking up at 5 am in the morning. Only to have me scuttle her butt back to bed. We have a rule that know one is to get up before 6 am. If your up you need to be quiet and respect others who still want that much needed sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After my sweet heart Richard was diagnosed with Bone Cancer 2 years ago; it certainly changed our perspective on life. We try to give him as much sleep time as possible. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We have taught Bianca that if shes awake before that time; its quiet time for reading books or playing her Leapster 2 Game.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;OK. Back to my moment.&lt;/strong&gt; I put Bianca back to bed with books &amp;amp; Leapster 2 game box. I tried to go back to sleep myself but that wasn't happening. So I quietly got up and heated some left-over Starbucks coffee in the microwave. I sat down at my desk. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I stopped.&lt;/strong&gt; All of a sudden I thought of how wonderful this felt to have this moment; to steal a few fleeting minutes to myself before the morning came crashing in on me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I smiled. It felt good.&lt;/strong&gt; No one was asking me for a sippy. No one asking me to rub his feet because they hurt from the pain of cancer. No one asking me for breakfast. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;AWE-this was so wonderful I could almost pinch myself.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I always try&amp;nbsp;to be humble and never expect more than I can get at that very moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I ask you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Do you take time to smell the coffee or the roses&lt;/strong&gt;; reflect on who surrounds your life and not what surrounds your life. Remember all the houses, cars, jewelry, or economic times shouldn't take you away from what matters most and that is the people who surround you in the embrace of their love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But every now and then you must steal a few precious moments for yourself.&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/6865519279655947222-2874219626339382968?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pV422hzql7lvypjDvQvx-53ebyA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pV422hzql7lvypjDvQvx-53ebyA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/4BJPAwczCeE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/2874219626339382968/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/09/moment-of-serenty.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/2874219626339382968?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/2874219626339382968?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/4BJPAwczCeE/moment-of-serenty.html" title="A Moment of Serenty" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WhrUHWgJ3Mw/Tn3kWS9co6I/AAAAAAAAE1U/t_Zpx5-IvsY/s72-c/cup+of+coffee.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/09/moment-of-serenty.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcGSH07eCp7ImA9WhdVF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-3381672523654524248</id><published>2011-09-22T14:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T14:47:09.300-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-22T14:47:09.300-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life experiences" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pengiun" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="seal" /><title>I'm Lonely I Need a Friend</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C7mXMC3jAOw/Tnuij6P6V_I/AAAAAAAAE1M/jER7V_vgwlA/s1600/ATT00003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hca="true" height="390" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C7mXMC3jAOw/Tnuij6P6V_I/AAAAAAAAE1M/jER7V_vgwlA/s400/ATT00003.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Seal and a Pengiun&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Is the seal holding the pengiun with his flipper &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
for companionship? Is this a unique friendship &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
between to totally different animals.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Sharing a quiet moment together. Mr. Pengiun &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
doesn't seem to be struggling to get away. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Isn't friendship grand. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
What do you think?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Here we are in the wild blue sea. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I have you and you have me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
We don't care what we are.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Even if we were worlds apart.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Hold on to my embrace.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
You never know when&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
it will&amp;nbsp;disappear without a trace.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-3381672523654524248?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sAxa7grtGSnmPz0OwOHqO77dcZs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sAxa7grtGSnmPz0OwOHqO77dcZs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/FC5VHKsW5TA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/3381672523654524248/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/09/im-lonely-i-need-friend.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/3381672523654524248?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/3381672523654524248?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/FC5VHKsW5TA/im-lonely-i-need-friend.html" title="I'm Lonely I Need a Friend" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C7mXMC3jAOw/Tnuij6P6V_I/AAAAAAAAE1M/jER7V_vgwlA/s72-c/ATT00003.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/09/im-lonely-i-need-friend.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcDQno5fSp7ImA9WhdVEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-3472210210368352452</id><published>2011-09-16T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T11:17:53.425-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-16T11:17:53.425-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life challenges" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happiness" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kidney stones" /><title>A Wilted Body - A Renewed Self</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;I have to apologize for taking time off from writing here at JungleLuv.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TVaIqrHV6p8/TnORyx1danI/AAAAAAAAEKg/lQrGvTtpOFk/s1600/wilted+flower.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TVaIqrHV6p8/TnORyx1danI/AAAAAAAAEKg/lQrGvTtpOFk/s320/wilted+flower.png" width="279" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Do you ever wake up feeling drained, or lifeless? Like this wilted flower. A little rough around the edges. Boy I sure do! About a week ago I woke up feeling achy all over and I had severe lower back pain. I thought I had the flu. But then it continued on for another 4 days. Then I knew it was more then that. My family has a history of having kidney stones. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;OMG: how can one be so lucky to have to endure them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;If you have never experienced a kidney stone I wouldn’t want to wish it upon no one. You spend any where from 4 days to 3 weeks trying to move it from your kidneys to your uretha gland, then to your urinary track to eventualy peeing it out. It kinda feels like your giving birth through a tiny little hole. &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Yikes! Yureecka!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Sometimes these kidney stones can be as tiny as a pin point of a pen to as big as a quarter or larger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;For me this week has been tough with feeling under the weather with this kidney stone. But I have finally released 2 of them so far.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YDTgrwJkemk/TnOSU5apy2I/AAAAAAAAEKk/F-nK4z39jjo/s1600/Kidney+Stones.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" rba="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YDTgrwJkemk/TnOSU5apy2I/AAAAAAAAEKk/F-nK4z39jjo/s1600/Kidney+Stones.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;I’ve had some that have taken 3 weeks to get rid of. It totally takes the life essence right out of you. But when you do finally pee them out you would not believe how you feel like GOD has given you wings to fly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;After going through this experience it makes you re-elavuate your eating habits and diet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;So here’s what I have come up with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Less Coffee. Darn it. No more than 2 cups a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;8-10 glasses of water. Flush, flush, flush the kidneys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Less protien. More fruits and veggies with protien.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Less calcium concumption. It’s a mineral which collects in the kidneys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Drink lemon concentrate with your water: it helps stop forming a kidney stone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;So there you have it. A health lesson at the jungle of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-3472210210368352452?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4p7ekBsu7XrWBXIKzfkd5CgKU6Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4p7ekBsu7XrWBXIKzfkd5CgKU6Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/BgumKETHMTE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/3472210210368352452/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/09/wilted-body-renewed-self.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/3472210210368352452?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/3472210210368352452?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/BgumKETHMTE/wilted-body-renewed-self.html" title="A Wilted Body - A Renewed Self" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TVaIqrHV6p8/TnORyx1danI/AAAAAAAAEKg/lQrGvTtpOFk/s72-c/wilted+flower.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/09/wilted-body-renewed-self.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcERXc7fSp7ImA9WhdWE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-4099696881086222448</id><published>2011-09-06T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T08:13:24.905-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-06T08:13:24.905-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="napping cats" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lounging" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="naps" /><title>Time For a Chill Pill</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Life is Too Busy. It's Time For a Chill Pill.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rT3SUpu03FU/TmY1w9ORXjI/AAAAAAAADtk/er6XsWbueuY/s1600/Cat+Nap.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="298" nba="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rT3SUpu03FU/TmY1w9ORXjI/AAAAAAAADtk/er6XsWbueuY/s400/Cat+Nap.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Lying back on my lounging chair.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I have to stop as if I don't care.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I'm missing my sunshine tea.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
This special moment is just for me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
So quiet and serene.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I could possibly fall a sleep.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
So leave me alone for awhile.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
So I can nap and take up a smile.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Sweet Dreams.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
T&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HuczPSORodoBU51KotaWemm5eYU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HuczPSORodoBU51KotaWemm5eYU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/2sYV5YoRFKc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/4099696881086222448/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/09/time-for-chill-pill.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/4099696881086222448?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/4099696881086222448?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/2sYV5YoRFKc/time-for-chill-pill.html" title="Time For a Chill Pill" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rT3SUpu03FU/TmY1w9ORXjI/AAAAAAAADtk/er6XsWbueuY/s72-c/Cat+Nap.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/09/time-for-chill-pill.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ANQ307eyp7ImA9WhdXGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-3377223203252550772</id><published>2011-08-31T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T16:03:12.303-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-31T16:03:12.303-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="idaho hiking country" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life experiences" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bull snakes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pilot peak" /><title>A Run in With a Bull Snake in Idaho Hiking Country</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
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&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"&gt;Idaho Bull &amp;amp; Rattle Snake Hiking Country&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Have you ever had a run in with a Gopher Snake (a.k.a Bull Snake)? Bull snakes are called that for a reason they could get pissed off very easily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Boy I sure did&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt; My husband Richard and I had taken&amp;nbsp;the week of July 4th from work to go on a hiking adventure around Pilots Peak in Northern Idaho. Granted from Washington State that’s a 10 hour drive. A night in a hotel at McCall, Idaho then another 70 miles on Old Wagon Road which winds around on old gravel logging roads and eventually takes you up to the elevation of over 8000 ft. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;A person has to be very careful to acclimate themselves or you can get what’s called “&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;mountain sickness&lt;/b&gt;” and die. It affects your ears and equilibrium. &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;We lost a horse that way once&lt;/b&gt;. He just toppled over the edge of the cliff and there was nothing we could do to stop him. He took all the camping gear right along with him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;But that’s another story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://wdfw.wa.gov/living/snakes.html"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;: "The &lt;b&gt;gopher snake&lt;/b&gt; (&lt;i&gt;Pituophis catenfe&lt;/i&gt;, Fig. 2), also known as the bull snake, is found in warm, dry habitat—deserts, grasslands, and open woodlands. It’s a robust snake, measuring 3 to 4 feet in length, with dark blotches against tan along its back. &lt;br /&gt;
The gopher snake is often mistaken for a rattlesnake, owing to its coloration and its impressive display of coiling, striking, and loud hissing. It will also vibrate the tip of its tail in dry grass and leaves, further mimicking a rattlesnake. However, it is not venomous. It is a constrictor, killing prey—mostly small rodents—by squeezing them until the prey suffocates"&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;We parked by an old run down homestead&lt;/b&gt; and packed all our gear into our packs. One must be careful not to overload the packs. When your hiking in that elevation having a heavy pack can create some real safety issues like losing your balance on a hiking trail that is only a foot and half wide. There is sheer drop off of 1000 feet on one side and straight up mountain side on your other side. So it’s imperative that you have all your facilities spot on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;The sun was shining and the temperature was to be in the 90’s. So getting an early start is essential to staying cool and to staying away from heat exhaustion for us. We were finally packed and loaded with the essentials for our weekend in the &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;rugged mountains of Idaho&lt;/b&gt;. We were going to hike in about 4 miles and then setup camp on top of a slightly smaller sloping mountain side. We called it sleeping under the stars. What would seem to be a fairly easy hike turned out to be a long hot strenuous ordeal? Not realizing how the temp increased so fast. We became very fatigued, stopping and resting to regenerate our strength. It should have taken us only 2 hours to hike in but it turned out to be a 5 hour hike.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;We were able to make it to our destination. &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;With only a blue tarp covering us in case it rained.&lt;/b&gt; We crawled into our sleeping bags. Lying on backs in our sleeping bags and munching on Trail bars we were viewing the most beautiful starry night I have ever seen. So crystal clear and vivid as if I could reach up and touch them. I could hardly go to sleep from listening to all the night sounds (crickets, birds, owls, etc.) I looked up again into the starry sky and there flying over us was night bats soaring through the sky. It was absolutely breathtaking. It was hard to fall asleep but I finally drifted off to LaLa land.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;The next morning turned out to be beautiful.&lt;/b&gt; My sweetheart started a little campfire and made Starbucks coffee for us on top of this little mountain side. The Starbucks coffee was heavenly. It was the most wonderful moment sipping on hot coffee and watching the sun come up over the mountain top. It was like everything stopped in time just for us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;We hiked around for the good part of the day viewing everything we could lay our eyes upon. Then it was time to pack up and head back down the mountain side. As we headed down the mountain side we started picking up big twigs and sticks that were in the way of our path from the day before. About half way down the trail there was a big stick that lay across the trail. I reached down to &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;grab the stick when all of a sudden it moved.&lt;/b&gt; Before I could realize it; I was looking &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;face to face with a Bull Snake&lt;/b&gt; I couldn’t scream it was stuck in my throat as if it couldn’t come out. The snack rattled his tail at me. I froze. There was no way I could move quick enough to get away from being struck with his bite. I thought it was a rattle snake and then before I knew it he slithered off into the grass. Thank GOD he was only a bull snake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;I just about fainted right there.&lt;/b&gt; My sweetheart was about 50 feet behind me trying to catch his breath from just being overheated from the hike. He walked up and asked if I was OK? You look like you seen a ghost. I could hardly speak. But I informed him I had a run in with a Bull Snake. It just happened to be my lucky day THAT he was taking a nice morning nap and was still kind of sleepy. Bull Snakes don’t have a venomous bite. But they sure can leave you with a hell of a welt and swelling. I was really glad it wasn’t a rattle snake. Guess it was my lucky day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;The rest of the hike went quickly. It always seems that hiking up the mountain side seems to take twice as long then going down. But I was sure thankful to see our truck and unload my pack. Not that I didn’t enjoy the hike and seeing the stars so close, enjoying Starbucks coffee 8000 feet on top of a mountain. But there’s something too this being in the wilderness that makes you appreciate life at home. In the wilderness you are a stranger to this country and you have to be mentally prepared to be there and all the unpredicted events that can happen in a split second. So my moral to my story is wake up and smell the coffee or roses and never take for granted that it can change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;This event actualy happened July 3rd - 10th of 2003. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Linda @ JungleLuv in The Jungle of Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;3 Year Old Boy Running Down the Middle of a Busy Street&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;How could this happen? A little boy in the middle of a busy street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TafNFRGB3Eo/TlVZdaC9cCI/AAAAAAAAC8I/QtRPVZddnkY/s1600/children.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" qaa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TafNFRGB3Eo/TlVZdaC9cCI/AAAAAAAAC8I/QtRPVZddnkY/s200/children.bmp" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;It actually happened.&lt;/b&gt; I have to tell this story because it still plays in my head over and over just like it was yesterday. But it happened over 20 years ago. &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;It was a Saturday morning. &lt;/b&gt;My husband and I decided we would go to have breakfast in town. Town at the time was 16 miles away. It took anywhere between a half hour to 45 minutes to get there. The town is Coeur D’ Alene, Idaho. Saturday mornings are usually quiet in Coeur D’ Alene. But that Saturday morning it seemed everybody and there brother was out, maybe because it was sunny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;We got into town and headed towards our favorite restaurant. Denny’s at the time was hopping place and breakfast was inexpensive. When we were done we had to run a few errands before we headed back home. The bank was one of our stops. But just before we pulled into the parking lot something caught our attention. There in the middle busy 4&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; Street was a little 2 year old boy running and screaming. My husband at the time quickly pulled into a parking stall and jumped out of the car. Waited for the traffic to clear run out and scooped the little boy in his arms and brought him back to safety.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;We looked around trying to see if anyone had been looking for him. Where was his mother or father? Why didn’t anyone stop to help this little boy? We were just amazed. How could this happen?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;We asked the little boy what his name is. “Jeremy” he said with the look of panic in his eyes. We tried to calm him down as we walked into the bank. “Let’s go see if we can find Mommy for you OK” as we consoled him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;We must have been there not more than 5 minutes when this white Cadillac pulled to the entrance of the bank. A woman wearing a white mink stole come blasting into the bank. How she knew her little boy was here surprised me. “Where’s my child” she yelled at the bank teller. Whose mouth dropped to the ground appalled at this belligerent woman’s behavior?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Then the bank teller turned to the belligerent woman. “You should be thanking these nice folks who just saved your little boy from being hit by a car” she yelled angrily back at the woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;The woman stuck her nose in the air grabbed her little boy by the arm yelling at him for being a bad boy. It was crazy how quickly this all happened kind of like a tornado that blows in and destroys everything. No respect for what’s in its path. No respect for anyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;What you say?&lt;/b&gt; Whose bad here certainly not the child? Some people can be so arrogant that they can’t see past their own mistakes. For us it certainly made for an interesting day and gave us lots to talk about on the way home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;I do know that you aren't always thanked for the nice gestures or saving someones life. But maybe you will be remembered by a little child that knows you took the time to give him comfort in a time of need. Thats all that counts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;What would have you done if you were in our situation? I’m curious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Kf0CoVDB_PET2bAaB_guCHzeg6c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Kf0CoVDB_PET2bAaB_guCHzeg6c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/mTVOpJhHPM8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/1537239719989969354/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/3-year-old-boy-running-down-middle-of.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/1537239719989969354?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/1537239719989969354?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/mTVOpJhHPM8/3-year-old-boy-running-down-middle-of.html" title="3 Year Old Boy Running Down the Middle of a Busy Street" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TafNFRGB3Eo/TlVZdaC9cCI/AAAAAAAAC8I/QtRPVZddnkY/s72-c/children.bmp" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/3-year-old-boy-running-down-middle-of.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIDR3YzfCp7ImA9WhdXE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-7682438206709566105</id><published>2011-08-23T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T15:16:16.884-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-25T15:16:16.884-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life experiences" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fun in the sun" /><title>Fun in The Sun For $8.00</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Creating Fun in the Sun For $8.00&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l9rBfRbcb4Q/TlQ-xs2wcfI/AAAAAAAAC78/8P_qWiHoseQ/s1600/AUG+7TH+2011+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l9rBfRbcb4Q/TlQ-xs2wcfI/AAAAAAAAC78/8P_qWiHoseQ/s320/AUG+7TH+2011+009.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;$8.00 created squeals of delight and enough laughter to last a life time. &lt;/strong&gt;The $8.00 fun in the sun is called Dora the Explorer Hopsplash. A wet and wild hopscotch water fun toy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RTMUAxz5icQ/TlQ_T-_9HKI/AAAAAAAAC8A/slN3JB-xXLQ/s1600/AUG+7TH+2011+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RTMUAxz5icQ/TlQ_T-_9HKI/AAAAAAAAC8A/slN3JB-xXLQ/s320/AUG+7TH+2011+007.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do kids know how much you spend on them for having fun in the sun? No Way.&amp;nbsp; My 3 year old Bianca wouldn't know if I spent $50.00 or $8.00. It might only last for the summer but it serves 2 purposes. One for watering the lawn and the other is to watch Bianca screaming her little head off cuz the water is cold. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rrtIQDX_D9s/TlQ_zXQhc9I/AAAAAAAAC8E/MRcB5GtAHhI/s1600/AUG+7TH+2011+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rrtIQDX_D9s/TlQ_zXQhc9I/AAAAAAAAC8E/MRcB5GtAHhI/s320/AUG+7TH+2011+011.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Your the only one who knows what your checking account or credit card looks like at the end of the month when you reconcile it. It was so worth it. I loved watching her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-7682438206709566105?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OMaUHBiFp2E9RLhtjMpP2Kb3HBs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OMaUHBiFp2E9RLhtjMpP2Kb3HBs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/aXi0c0p0zfU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/7682438206709566105/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/fun-in-sun-for-800.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/7682438206709566105?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/7682438206709566105?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/aXi0c0p0zfU/fun-in-sun-for-800.html" title="Fun in The Sun For $8.00" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l9rBfRbcb4Q/TlQ-xs2wcfI/AAAAAAAAC78/8P_qWiHoseQ/s72-c/AUG+7TH+2011+009.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/fun-in-sun-for-800.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8NRXc8eip7ImA9WhdXEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-9110743906388131674</id><published>2011-08-18T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T15:08:14.972-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-22T15:08:14.972-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="peeps" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kittens" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><title>4 Little Kittens Sitting On a Ledge</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UINg67pI3yM/TkwEnP7ZDgI/AAAAAAAACTc/VGHD61-sJvE/s1600/4+kittens" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" naa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UINg67pI3yM/TkwEnP7ZDgI/AAAAAAAACTc/VGHD61-sJvE/s320/4+kittens" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;4 Blacks Kittens Sitting On a Ledge.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Whats up they say?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Where did you go?&lt;br /&gt;
I have come back from a picture show.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
We missed you.&lt;br /&gt;
We want you back.&lt;br /&gt;
So we can cuddle in your lap.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-9110743906388131674?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NSe0aFkeYc8eAoKTa5Pmhq_NxtI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NSe0aFkeYc8eAoKTa5Pmhq_NxtI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NSe0aFkeYc8eAoKTa5Pmhq_NxtI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NSe0aFkeYc8eAoKTa5Pmhq_NxtI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/UcO-Ej2XHjc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/9110743906388131674/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/4-little-kittens-sitting-on-ledge.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/9110743906388131674?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/9110743906388131674?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/UcO-Ej2XHjc/4-little-kittens-sitting-on-ledge.html" title="4 Little Kittens Sitting On a Ledge" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UINg67pI3yM/TkwEnP7ZDgI/AAAAAAAACTc/VGHD61-sJvE/s72-c/4+kittens" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/4-little-kittens-sitting-on-ledge.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8CSHw7fyp7ImA9WhdQGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-4513324649655249846</id><published>2011-08-16T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:57:49.207-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-21T14:57:49.207-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grandchildren" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="familiy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grandparents" /><title>15 Funny Sayings from Grandchildren about Their Grandparents</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;The Funniest Things Grandchildren Say About Their Grandparents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;You may have read these before. I wish I could give the person that sent this email to me (credits) for this blog post, but it has been sent around so many times and it just said to share it. It is good for some wonderful laughs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-83EosobMVd8/TkrZR7Ch1rI/AAAAAAAACRg/8DcDYl3hmZY/s1600/Grandparents.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" naa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-83EosobMVd8/TkrZR7Ch1rI/AAAAAAAACRg/8DcDYl3hmZY/s1600/Grandparents.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Grandparents from a grandchild’s point of view:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;1. She was in the bathroom, putting on her makeup, under the watchful eyes of her young granddaughter, as she'd done many times before. After she applied her lipstick and started to leave, the little one said, "But Grandma, you forgot to kiss the toilet paper good-bye!" I will probably never put lipstick on again without thinking about kissing the toilet paper good-bye....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;2. My young grandson called the other day to wish me Happy Birthday. He asked me how old I was, and I told him, 62. My grandson was quiet for a moment, and then he asked, "Did you start at 1?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;3. After putting her grandchildren to bed, a grandmother changed into old slacks and a droopy blouse and proceeded to wash her hair. As she heard the children getting more and more rambunctious, her patience grew thin. Finally, she threw a towel around her head and stormed into their room, putting them back to bed with stern warnings. As she left the room, she heard the three-year-old say with a trembling voice,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;"Who was THAT?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;4. A grandmother was telling her little granddaughter what her own childhood was like. "We used to skate outside on a pond. I had a swing made from a tire; it hung from a tree in our front yard. We rode our pony. We picked wild raspberries in the woods."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;The little girl was wide-eyed, taking this all in. At last she said, "I sure wish I'd gotten to know you sooner!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;5. My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, "Grandma, do you know how you and God are alike?" I mentally polished my halo and I said, "No, how are we alike?'' "You're both old," he replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;6. a little girl was diligently pounding away on her grandfather's word processor. She told him she was writing a story. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;"What's it about?" he asked. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;"I don't know," she replied. "I can't read."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;7. I didn't know if my granddaughter had learned her colors yet, so I decided to test her. I would point out something and ask what color it was. She would tell me and was always correct. It was fun for me, so I continued. At last, she headed for the door, saying, "Grandma, I think you should try to figure out some of these colors yourself!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;8. When my grandson Billy and I entered our vacation cabin, we kept the lights off until we were inside to keep from attracting pesky insects. Still, a few fireflies followed us in. Noticing them before I did, Billy whispered, "It's no use Grandpa. Now the mosquitoes are coming after us with flashlights."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;9. When my grandson asked me how old I was, I teasingly replied, "I'm not sure." "Look in your underwear, Grandpa," he advised "Mine says I'm 4 to 6."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;10. A second grader came home from school and said to her grandmother, "Grandma, guess what? We learned how to make babies today." The grandmother, more than a little surprised, tried to keep her cool. "That's interesting." she said. "How do you make babies?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;"It's simple," replied the girl. "You just change 'y' to 'I' and add 'es'."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;11. Children's Logic: "Give me a sentence about a public servant," said a teacher. The small boy wrote: "The fireman came down the ladder pregnant." The teacher took the lad aside to correct him. "Don't you know what pregnant means?" she asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;"Sure," said the young boy confidently. 'It means carrying a child."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;12. A grandfather was delivering his grandchildren to their home one day when a fire truck zoomed past. Sitting in the front seat of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog. The children started discussing the dog's duties.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;"They use him to keep crowds back," said one child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;"No," said another. "He's just for good luck."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;A third child brought the argument to a close. “They use the dogs," she said firmly, "to find the fire hydrants."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;13. A 6-year-old was asked where his grandma lived. "Oh," he said, "she lives at the airport, and when we want her, we just go get her. Then, when we're done having her visit, we take her back to the airport."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;14. Grandpa is the smartest man on earth! He teaches me good things, but I don't get to see him enough to get as smart as him!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;15. My Grandparents are funny, when they bend over, you hear gas leaks and they blame their dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;SEND THIS TO OTHER GRANDPARENTS, ALMOST GRANDPARENTS, OR HECK, SEND IT TO EVERYONE. IT WILL MAKE THEIR DAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ERAA-PiAg1GTlXRVAsIm6GHM_iE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ERAA-PiAg1GTlXRVAsIm6GHM_iE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/ochPU2aHWm0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/4513324649655249846/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/15-funny-sayings-from-grandchildren.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/4513324649655249846?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/4513324649655249846?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/ochPU2aHWm0/15-funny-sayings-from-grandchildren.html" title="15 Funny Sayings from Grandchildren about Their Grandparents" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-83EosobMVd8/TkrZR7Ch1rI/AAAAAAAACRg/8DcDYl3hmZY/s72-c/Grandparents.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/15-funny-sayings-from-grandchildren.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UGRX8_cSp7ImA9WhdXEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-4276634624722546239</id><published>2011-08-12T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T15:13:44.149-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-22T15:13:44.149-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happiness" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sleeping puppy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><title>If Life Could Be So Easy</title><content type="html">﻿ &lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HVrhlXdxCps/TkXf_pyDcrI/AAAAAAAACRU/mxPrfvrJ3SA/s1600/Sleeping+Puppy" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" naa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HVrhlXdxCps/TkXf_pyDcrI/AAAAAAAACRU/mxPrfvrJ3SA/s400/Sleeping+Puppy" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Life is Good&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
﻿ &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;If life could be so easy.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #134f5c;"&gt;I'd quit my day job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #134f5c;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I make up for lost sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I would let the air tickle my tongue forever.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"&gt;Life's Precious Moments Enjoy Them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;A couple of days ago I thought I was going through hell and back again.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Why you say?&lt;/b&gt; Well my perfect little Sleeping Beauty Bianca; who sleeps from 10 to 12 hours a night all of a sudden threw those 10 to 12 hours in a bucket and changed her beautiful sleeping pattern.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bYdFxRMZYj8/TkSDqjyRqCI/AAAAAAAACRI/8LAnxUlhvbs/s1600/AUG+7TH+2011+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bYdFxRMZYj8/TkSDqjyRqCI/AAAAAAAACRI/8LAnxUlhvbs/s320/AUG+7TH+2011+013.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sleeping Beauty Bianca&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;The question is why?&lt;/b&gt; OH My Gracious; imagine going from getting 8 precious hours of beautiful blessed sleep to the tune of intermittent sleep at the pace of every 2-3 hours. &lt;strong&gt;Do you know how frikin hard that is?&lt;/strong&gt; All of a sudden the little Sleeping Beauty is crawling in your bed at 12:30 am. What? You stir and TURN to look at these little eyeballs staring at you. What's going on you say to the little Sleeping Beauty? “Hi Mama” she says.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;We get out of my bed.&lt;/b&gt; Walk back to Sleeping Beauty’s room. Quietly tuck her back into bed. Lots of kisses. AH back to land of sleep. I fall back to sleep. &lt;strong&gt;2:30 am.&lt;/strong&gt; In comes Sleeping Beauty again. "Hi Mama" she says again. &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;What now?&lt;/b&gt; Again back to Sleeping Beauty’s room we go.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Tucking and kissing. I walked out of Sleeping Beauty’s room and dragged myself back to my own bed. I'm hoping this is the last time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;NOT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;4:15 am.&lt;/b&gt; Oh My GOD. &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;What next?&lt;/b&gt; Sleeping Beauty has turned into the Green Eyed ZOMBIE. Screaming she comes running into my room. Mommy my batteries died in the Leapfrog Leapster2 Game Box. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What the hell? I say to myself. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TWP2Ah67XbQ/TkSEL2MmtCI/AAAAAAAACRM/awstru8aXjU/s1600/8-11-11+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TWP2Ah67XbQ/TkSEL2MmtCI/AAAAAAAACRM/awstru8aXjU/s320/8-11-11+004.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mr Leapfrog Leapster Game Box&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;The Green Eyed ZOMBIE shoves the Leapfrog Leapster Game box in my face demanding the batteries to be changed immediately. &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;You’re Kidding Me!&lt;/b&gt; I ask her. Have you been playing this all night? Yep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Oh My God;&lt;/b&gt; no wonder &lt;strong&gt;Sleeping Beauty&lt;/strong&gt; had changed into the &lt;strong&gt;Green Eyed ZOMBIE&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;I scoop her up in my arms along with Mr. Leapfrog Leapster Game box. She's still screaming.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I say to quietly to her.&amp;nbsp;Can we talk about your game box? Yeh. Sniffle. Sniffle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Bianca "It's time to put Mr. Leapfrog Leapster Game box to bed". His batteries need charging like your little batteries. Mr. Leapfrog Leapster Game box is tired. Don't you think he might want some sleep? Yehhhhh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;I'm going to put Mr. Leapfrog Leapster Game box to bed Bianca. I tucked and kissed her again for the 3rd time. She slowly lets out a sign. I throw myself into bed hoping this will be the last time for getting up. &lt;strong&gt;And it was&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;We all woke up feeling the Green Eyed ZOMBIE got the best of us. But we managed. By evening we were ready to go to bed by 8: oo pm and Mr. Leapfrog Leapster Game box was put way up high so the Green Eyed &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;ZOMBIE couldn’t find him. &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Ha Ha&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-275263278178357182?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span  class='st_sharethis' displayText='ShareThis'&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Do you know the feeling you get when a loved one is slowly slipping away from you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Only to be going to a better place in heaven. But you don't want them to leave. And we don't get the choice of when they come and go from this world. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;For myself;&lt;/strong&gt; it started in the month of July, 2009.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I received word that my father has Prostrate Cancer. And then when I thought that I heard it all. I also found out that my sweetheart of 5 years of marriage has Stage 2 Multiple Myeloma Bone Cancer. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My world just collapsed right before me.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IAAt9CAWdp4/Tj3BIBkycaI/AAAAAAAACM8/nqVgyA_V5yQ/s1600/Rock+Garden+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IAAt9CAWdp4/Tj3BIBkycaI/AAAAAAAACM8/nqVgyA_V5yQ/s320/Rock+Garden+004.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At first we didn't know it was cancer until my sweetheart was in the hospital for 10 days fighting for his life. We had been visiting our regular doctor for 5 months and getting no answers why he wasn't feeling well only to moved on&amp;nbsp;for a&amp;nbsp;second opinion. We finally got answers but it was almost to late. Cancer had consumed him by 80% and he only had 17% kidney function when we admitted him to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;We have been&amp;nbsp;fighting&amp;nbsp;the cancer long and hard.&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;I say we because when a family endures the stress, emotions, the good days and the bad. It's we. There isn't&amp;nbsp;one family member that doesn't feel the pain of the family member going through the cancer. With love and support we cater to the cancer, we fight it down only for it to come rushing back. &lt;strong&gt;Every day is a fight for life.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Today I spoke with my father.&lt;/strong&gt; Reality hit me square in the face. My father was losing his battle with cancer. I could hear the life being sucked out of his body. The passion, fire, and the laughter I would usually feel and hear in his voice was not there anymore. His mind has always sharp as a pencil. But I noticed he was trying to remember things and events, mutterings coming from his words. I tried to keep myself together as I talked to him. I knew he was slowly slipping away from me. I knew there was nothing I COULD do. He told me he loved me as I said goodbye to him. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I cried.&amp;nbsp; I was angry. Life is unfair. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;My father is 76 years old.&lt;/strong&gt; I'm grateful that GOD has given him to me for that many years. I can only try to make his last days as precious as can be. Enjoy every waking moment with him. I pray for every day I can have with him till the day he chooses to leave this world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;My sweetheart is 67 years old.&lt;/strong&gt; And he is still fighting for his life. He seems to be having a better chance.&amp;nbsp;We are told he can never be cured. But I don't believe doctors their so negative and that negativity can drain you so much that it can consume you. I won't buy&amp;nbsp;into the&amp;nbsp;garbage they try to sell. Life with cancer is about being positive every moment you can. Yes its hard. That is why I started&amp;nbsp;writing this blog. Its my inspiration to keep me focused on being upbeat for my sweetheart and our 3 year old little Bianca.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm sharing my moment with you in the Jungle of Life. If your family are cancer fighters and survivors, please I would love to hear your story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-244382770216072823?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Are They All Friends? I Want What You Got!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eTxfsjlnmgk/Tj2R3VJfAiI/AAAAAAAACM4/PzzCmA-ZRms/s1600/squirl+sharing" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="288" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eTxfsjlnmgk/Tj2R3VJfAiI/AAAAAAAACM4/PzzCmA-ZRms/s320/squirl+sharing" t$="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
One of my&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;friends shared this photo with me via email. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Do&amp;nbsp; you think the squirrel wants to share?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
From what I CAN SEE his body language is saying no way I'm giving this up to you birds. His ears are pinned back and he has a real grip on that nut he's holding. His stance is solid and he is putting his dead right serious FACE on...&lt;strong&gt;I'm not sharing&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I believe the Squirrel has the upper hand here. Don't you?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The &lt;strong&gt;Squirrel&lt;/strong&gt; has a nut that these birds want, and their are trying their hardest to acquire it by empowering him with a gang effect.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Everyone in the email thought it was cute.&lt;/strong&gt; I took a look at it. &lt;strong&gt;I saw something different&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I saw four birds circling and pushing trying to make the Squirrel give up his nut by peer pressure.. I wonder if their some kind of gang. &lt;strong&gt;Ha Ha&lt;/strong&gt;. Kind of like a gang that lays in wait for some innocent bystander that walks by to steal from them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do you think that animals behave the same as people? Preditor V Prey. Peer Pressure. Use of Force.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Life is like that.&lt;/strong&gt; Some people kill for it. Some just share it. Some fight over it..Kind of like whats going on in the picture with the Squirrel and the Birds.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;What's your take of this photo?&lt;/strong&gt; I would love to read your opinion.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Linda @JungleLuv&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-4411159448612265697?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Mothers Poem: To All the Moms Out There!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #134f5c;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;aking Memories Count.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (Crying, Laughter, Pictures, Places, and Videos)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;n Call Nurse 24/7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (Puking, Boo Boos, Mumps, Colds, etc.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;ruely Inspirational and Totaly Awesome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (Guiding, Cheer Leading Club, PTA, etc)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;elping Others to Help Themselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (Encouraging Over Achievers)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;vent Home Planner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (Birthday Parties, Slumber Parties, Home Coming, etc.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;easonably Sane.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Organicaly grateful. (Humble, Solidtude, Gracious, Emotional)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;uccessful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (Leadership, Motivator, Entrepreneur, Home-Business)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Come on in and&amp;nbsp;add to my&amp;nbsp;Poem. Leave&amp;nbsp;them in the comment section below.&lt;br /&gt;
I would love to hear about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-5811593396205528755?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9EOK42iiNrs/TjhFjx4nHrI/AAAAAAAAB8E/GhwSXPVJvIE/s1600/The+Pooping+Party.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="244" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9EOK42iiNrs/TjhFjx4nHrI/AAAAAAAAB8E/GhwSXPVJvIE/s320/The+Pooping+Party.png" t$="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Favorite Peeps&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;As a busy mother you constantly feel&lt;/strong&gt; as if you can never get a moment to yourself especially when it comes to using the toilet. You feel every moment has to be shared with something or somebody. You also hope that if you have to use the toilet that you can get that precious moment to do the # 1 or the # 2 all to yourself. Some people get embarassed talking about using the bathroom..Get over it...Guess what we have to do it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"&gt;No Way Forget It!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I have to share my funny “Pooping Party Story”.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Every day begins at 6:30 or after for us. My little 3 yr old Bianca decides to tumble her little bones out of bed. She comes into our room and quietly says “Yeh Momma”. “Good morning my little sweetie pie” I respond. I get up with her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Its time to get the coffee on and start the day! The coffee is done. I got my coffee. Then all of sudden I get the urge...Its Potty time...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I try to slip away without anyone seeing me. I'm sitting down on the toilet hoping to enjoy myself with some peace and quiet just for one little second.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;NOT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here comes my little Jack Russell Harry he lays his whole body on my feet and looks up and stares at me, then comes Bianca she sits on the bathroom floor rattling about something in her 3 yr old gibberish. Here comes Hunter my Border collie he plops his head in my lap looking at me with his big soft brown eyes. Then last but least in strolls Na Na our 1 year old kitty who jumps upon my lap..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Some people would probably get mad about being disturbed in their "POTTY TIME".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"&gt;Forget It!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I look at all 4 of them and start laughing. It goes from laughing then into a ton of ton of giggles. Here we all sit in a bathroom that is 6 ft wide and 10 foot long room.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It doesn’t matter that there are unpleasant smells. It’s a Pooping Party! This little group of my favorite peeps are hanging out with me, they think there is no better place to be. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I totally feel blessed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do you have a funny story to share? I would love to hear about 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/6865519279655947222-5494254297372009603?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rxPCtuBjqhGqWlTb0oy0ewaG__4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rxPCtuBjqhGqWlTb0oy0ewaG__4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/4EI9DxACSAY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/5494254297372009603/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/its-pooping-party-dogs-cats-and-kids.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/5494254297372009603?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/5494254297372009603?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/4EI9DxACSAY/its-pooping-party-dogs-cats-and-kids.html" title="It’s a Pooping Party – Dogs, Cats and Kids" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9EOK42iiNrs/TjhFjx4nHrI/AAAAAAAAB8E/GhwSXPVJvIE/s72-c/The+Pooping+Party.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/its-pooping-party-dogs-cats-and-kids.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcCSHk5fCp7ImA9WhdREk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-6353685755480050638</id><published>2011-08-01T10:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T13:54:29.724-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-01T13:54:29.724-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life challenges" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life experiences" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="families" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><title>The Start of a 2nd Family</title><content type="html">&lt;strong&gt;Starting a 2nd family is questionable&lt;/strong&gt; especially when you are totally not prepared for it. My sweetheart and I had only been married for 4 years. You could say we were still newly weds. But the day my niece Chrystal came to live with us changed our lives forever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ny1SXdA9NlY/TjbaJ8nmbPI/AAAAAAAABx4/OPNtHXVT3xk/s1600/house+104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ny1SXdA9NlY/TjbaJ8nmbPI/AAAAAAAABx4/OPNtHXVT3xk/s320/house+104.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Little Miss Bianca&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;She had been living with us for about 3 months&lt;/strong&gt;; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;when she asked if she could have a friend come for the weekend. A weekend turned into several weeks. The friend was a guy and she had promised that they were just friends and nothing more. Well the friend left. But that friend left her with a special little package. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We were upset that she wasn't completely honest with us about their relationship and we shared that with her. She decided to go back home. Months had passed when she called to inform us that she was pregnant. She was crying and upset and begged to come back to stay with us. She came and visited for a month. And then again she went home to have the baby. She had sweet little Bianca Marie. A little brown eyed delicate little baby girl. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5OBlFS3ZM8s/TjbauCEdqzI/AAAAAAAABx8/JjRt-d1AUSU/s1600/house+146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5OBlFS3ZM8s/TjbauCEdqzI/AAAAAAAABx8/JjRt-d1AUSU/s320/house+146.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bianca @ 4 Months&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;The day after Bianca was born;&lt;/strong&gt; we drove over and picked&amp;nbsp;mom and&amp;nbsp;baby up from the hospital. We all decided it was best that she and the baby come live with us. We offered her a job and a roof over her head for her and Bianca. But as time went by we found there was no bond between my and baby. Baby Bianca was put in a chair and left there with no cuddling, no hugs or kisses. Sweet baby talking..Nothing. Chrystal would just change her diaper or feed her and that was that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3 months had passed; at first we just thought it was baby blues that every young mom gets after having her child. But we could clearly see that she didn't want any kind of bond with Bianca. Maybe she didn't know how to. We tried to show her. She became frustrated with Bianca. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XLESuT55yz8/TjbbEWUJEmI/AAAAAAAAByA/M_SFOishFY8/s1600/house+152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XLESuT55yz8/TjbbEWUJEmI/AAAAAAAAByA/M_SFOishFY8/s320/house+152.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ugh Another Picture!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Then one day it happened.&lt;/strong&gt; Chrystal went into a complete outrage. She demanded that she didn't want Bianca and she wasn't ready to be a mother, she had made a huge mistake. She left. Leaving little miss Bianca behind. Bianca was 3 1/2 months at the time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;1&amp;nbsp;week later we get the phone call we were anticipating&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;The guilt had come over her&lt;/strong&gt;. She had changed her mind. She came and picked up Bianca and took her home to her family. At the time we were upset with her. We knew she was confused and feeling guilty. But we were worried that Bianca wouldn't get the attention she needed and the love. We also knew Chrystal wouldn't get the help with Bianca that we had given her. Chrystal's family was a very dysfunctional family with a history of sexual abuse, neglect, and mental abuse.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j2b3V4XkkJM/TjcQzo16VvI/AAAAAAAAB1w/KrRCVfFcmcU/s1600/7-4-11+041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j2b3V4XkkJM/TjcQzo16VvI/AAAAAAAAB1w/KrRCVfFcmcU/s320/7-4-11+041.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Little Miss Bianca at 3 Years Old&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;3 weeks had passed&lt;/strong&gt; but we had to be patient. It as inevitable what was going to happen and we had to wait. Then it happened. The phone call we were waiting for. Chrystal called begging us to come get little miss Bianca. Of course we would we had become quite attached to our sweet little great niece and we would do anything for her. Chrystal was having difficultly dealing with her family and taking care of Bianca all by herself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The day&amp;nbsp;I picked up little Bianca&amp;nbsp;WOULD&amp;nbsp;a day&amp;nbsp;I would never forget. It had seemed like eternity since we had seen her, but she didn't forget who her Auntie was. I picked her up in my arms and called out her name "Bianca"....All of a sudden she jerked her head around looked at me in disbelief...The biggest squeal came out of that little baby girls mouth and she smiled, cooed and wiggled with delight. She knew her who her Auntie was.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Chrystal comes and goes. Bianca knows who her mother is and she has nice visits with her. But Bianca also know that Uncle and Auntie ar always there for her 24/7.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"&gt;She's are Little Country Sunshine on a Cloudy Day! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&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/6865519279655947222-6353685755480050638?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aXsHtCv5Y7mNur19Sa2tRj2ym54/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aXsHtCv5Y7mNur19Sa2tRj2ym54/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/E6CxCkQi8eA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/6353685755480050638/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/start-of-2nd-family.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/6353685755480050638?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/6353685755480050638?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/E6CxCkQi8eA/start-of-2nd-family.html" title="The Start of a 2nd Family" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ny1SXdA9NlY/TjbaJ8nmbPI/AAAAAAAABx4/OPNtHXVT3xk/s72-c/house+104.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/08/start-of-2nd-family.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYGQnw8eCp7ImA9WhdREk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-5977834864119606345</id><published>2011-07-28T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T13:55:23.270-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-01T13:55:23.270-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rules" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nuture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="wildflower" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="flower" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="plant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gardens" /><title>Are You a Wildflower Living In a Cultivated World?</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Do You Feel Like a &lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Wildflower&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;Living&lt;/span&gt; a Very &lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;Cultivated World&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DFOabGdDrK4/TjGE9LYLTwI/AAAAAAAAA0M/WPLxyzfPhHI/s1600/wildflowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DFOabGdDrK4/TjGE9LYLTwI/AAAAAAAAA0M/WPLxyzfPhHI/s400/wildflowers.jpg" t$="true" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Untamed Wildflowers&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Everyday we walk around living with rules.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;What is a Wildflower?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
wild·flow·er   /ˈwaɪldˌflaʊər/ Show Spelled&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[wahyld-flou-er] Show IPA&lt;br /&gt;
–noun &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. the flower of a plant that normally grows in fields, forests, etc., without deliberate cultivation. &lt;br /&gt;
2. the plant itself. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Wildflowers&lt;/strong&gt; have their own agenda; they fly through the air and land where ever they land. Settling in the field, or forest that the wind has delivered them to. The sun, rain and ground nurture the seed. Growing wildly and fragrantly in the spring and summertime.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They offer a variety of color, beauty, and fragrance beholding to everyone. But they live with no rules. Nothing confines them. Untamed in an adventurous world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Are we untamed flowing in the wind carefree. Not necessarily. We are cultivated the day we are born in this world. We live with guidance from our parents. Or no guidance. But we have rules to follow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I invite you to comment and leave your opinions.&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/6865519279655947222-5977834864119606345?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QRgWO_7_5kqtUjaw__5VlAzFV-Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QRgWO_7_5kqtUjaw__5VlAzFV-Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/E0OhYLO_FyU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/5977834864119606345/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/07/are-you-wildflower-living-in-cultivated.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/5977834864119606345?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/5977834864119606345?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/E0OhYLO_FyU/are-you-wildflower-living-in-cultivated.html" title="Are You a Wildflower Living In a Cultivated World?" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DFOabGdDrK4/TjGE9LYLTwI/AAAAAAAAA0M/WPLxyzfPhHI/s72-c/wildflowers.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/07/are-you-wildflower-living-in-cultivated.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYAQXs5eip7ImA9WhdREk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-1510597733995908893</id><published>2011-07-26T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T13:55:40.522-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-01T13:55:40.522-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bengal tigers" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fallow deer" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="american elk" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="llamas" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bison" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="olmpicgamefarm" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="wild animals" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="zebras" /><title>In Your Face Elk: Olympic Game Farm</title><content type="html">&lt;b&gt;We had so much fun&lt;/b&gt;. On July 18, 2011 we took 3 adults; myself, my husband, and our daughter. Also our 3 grand daughters, our sweet little Bianca and crazy dog Harry boy our Jack Russell to the Olympic Game Farm. We had to go over on the ferry to Seqium, WA. Cost was about $68.00 but it was so worth it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;The Olympic Game Farm has some crazy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; Driving Tour Rules;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Stay completely inside your vehicle.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;All doors, sun roofs, and rear hatches completely closed.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;No feeding other than bread that they sell as you enter. &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D29AeANFMJE/Ti74rV0-IyI/AAAAAAAAAo0/OU9NCzOPLAo/s1600/phone+pics+202.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D29AeANFMJE/Ti74rV0-IyI/AAAAAAAAAo0/OU9NCzOPLAo/s320/phone+pics+202.jpg" width="191" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bull Elk&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Now look at the picture!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;You think he's close enough.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is a bull elk that weighs 1000 pounds.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His rack is 8 ft. across in diameter...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Which is above our Chevy Tahoe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His head is right at our passenger door window.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He's just asking for bread! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We had to weave in and out of these guys.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
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As you enter the game farm your given a map to follow to be able to view all the animals. We fisrt went through the Zebras&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/-rCIqVVj39zo/Ti8BIzUnm1I/AAAAAAAAApE/jP6Y_VBteNc/s1600/Zebra.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rCIqVVj39zo/Ti8BIzUnm1I/AAAAAAAAApE/jP6Y_VBteNc/s1600/Zebra.png" t$="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
, Llama's &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RJx3xs0JyFM/Ti8BTz75LPI/AAAAAAAAApI/yww8ZJpHQIQ/s1600/Llama.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RJx3xs0JyFM/Ti8BTz75LPI/AAAAAAAAApI/yww8ZJpHQIQ/s1600/Llama.png" t$="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
then we spotted the Fallow Deer. Harry the Jack Russell was actually trembling but speechless or should I say barkless.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WWTWWxHtQOA/Ti77Ic_JFHI/AAAAAAAAAo4/cwXHmHLTrFk/s1600/phone+pics+195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WWTWWxHtQOA/Ti77Ic_JFHI/AAAAAAAAAo4/cwXHmHLTrFk/s320/phone+pics+195.jpg" width="191" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fallow Deer&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;b&gt;The Fallow Deer were real friendly also. More bread please...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;They were so cute...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;and so many of them...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WpRjX8TXex8/Ti78If2CDyI/AAAAAAAAAo8/MbNtvhsmx0E/s1600/phone+pics+159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WpRjX8TXex8/Ti78If2CDyI/AAAAAAAAAo8/MbNtvhsmx0E/s320/phone+pics+159.jpg" width="191" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dark Fallow Deer&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
They had a White Rhino; but he didn't look well. They were giving him extra help.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;The next animals we saw was the Bison;&lt;/b&gt; Do not feed the Bison the sign said and keep on moving. Can you imagine a 3000 pound Bison pushing on your vehicle. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ss4qpOzkVYs/Ti79LwmjQYI/AAAAAAAAApA/01YFAbMrm4M/s1600/phone+pics+211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ss4qpOzkVYs/Ti79LwmjQYI/AAAAAAAAApA/01YFAbMrm4M/s320/phone+pics+211.jpg" width="191" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Big Bison&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There were a bunch of caged animals. Bobcats, coyotes, wolves, cougars, african lions, bengal tiger, and siberian tiger.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2jJreFsqXfw/Ti8B0wqWCHI/AAAAAAAAApM/87-70RImZkc/s1600/Tiger.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2jJreFsqXfw/Ti8B0wqWCHI/AAAAAAAAApM/87-70RImZkc/s1600/Tiger.png" t$="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bengal Tiger&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What was the craziest thing was all....was little bunnies running around all these wild cats. You would think they would eat the little bunnies...insane. It took about an hour to drive through the game farm. We were always trying to drive around Peacocks, Tibetan Yaks, Kodiak bears.&amp;nbsp; If your in Washington State you should go check out the &lt;a href="http://www.olygamefarm.com/"&gt;Olympic Game Farm&lt;/a&gt;. It makes for a fun family day trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-1510597733995908893?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UP_ZS0hkQa4iYsKv6sKwyfq21Z8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UP_ZS0hkQa4iYsKv6sKwyfq21Z8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/XJOY5LlMz28" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/1510597733995908893/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/07/in-your-face-elk-olympic-game-farm.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/1510597733995908893?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/1510597733995908893?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/XJOY5LlMz28/in-your-face-elk-olympic-game-farm.html" title="In Your Face Elk: Olympic Game Farm" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D29AeANFMJE/Ti74rV0-IyI/AAAAAAAAAo0/OU9NCzOPLAo/s72-c/phone+pics+202.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/07/in-your-face-elk-olympic-game-farm.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYBQn44cCp7ImA9WhdREk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865519279655947222.post-3772010142343969278</id><published>2011-07-23T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T13:55:53.038-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-01T13:55:53.038-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="broken legs" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="horses" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life experiences" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="true talent" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="artist" /><title>A True Artist Inspired By a Broken Leg</title><content type="html">&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Broken Leg and an Artist Destiny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have you ever had the feeling that you were destined to do something great? But you just didn’t know what it was at the time. That was the way I felt for a long time. I knew there was something else out there that I could do. Just didn't know it at the time until I broke my leg.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4luNOX-T4r4/TitPi8yFAWI/AAAAAAAAAns/Jo9ltTPFLKk/s1600/fun+days+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4luNOX-T4r4/TitPi8yFAWI/AAAAAAAAAns/Jo9ltTPFLKk/s400/fun+days+004.JPG" t$="true" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Fist Acyrilic Painting- The Barn House&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;The Broken Leg&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the spring of 1997; I was working with my 1st husband at the time doing carpentry work. We had just gotten home from work. My 2 girls also had arrived home from school and went inside our house. My husband had to leave again to run a quick errand with one of our employees. He said he would be right back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had chores to take care of outside; feeding the horses their afternoon hay in the barn before settling down with the family. I piled my arms up high with a couple of leafs of alfalfa hay and I proceeded to walk down the stairs that lead into the barn. Not realizing that I had wet mud on the bottoms of my boots, I lost my footing on the first step down. Before I could realize what was happening the hay and me went twisting through the air. As I came down my ankle took the brunt of my fall and I heard a huge crack as my ankle snapped against the steps. I knew instantly that my ankle was broken.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NqatTHhMZ6w/TitQZTs-WyI/AAAAAAAAAnw/QGg4KHIgong/s1600/Art+Work+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NqatTHhMZ6w/TitQZTs-WyI/AAAAAAAAAnw/QGg4KHIgong/s400/Art+Work+005.JPG" t$="true" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Little Unicorn Sketch&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I screamed in agony from the pain. But no one could hear me. From the fall I had also twisted every micro muscle in my ankle. I wasn’t sure what to do. My girls were probably watching cartoons and couldn’t hear the screaming. The dog did. She ran over grabbing my jacket and tried pulling me up the stairs. But she quit and whimpered giving me a ton of licks as if to say I’m sorry. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I dragged myself up the stairs and stood up. Now I was back up to our driveway but I had another 400 yards to go to get to the house. All of a sudden I could hear my husband’s truck coming up the driveway. Thank GOD! He stopped and asked what’s wrong? I told him what happen. We drove up to the house and picked up my girls and went to the emergency clinic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LAoiee0dHVI/TitRjxFFDoI/AAAAAAAAAn0/mZeGu18hE1w/s1600/Art+Work+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LAoiee0dHVI/TitRjxFFDoI/AAAAAAAAAn0/mZeGu18hE1w/s320/Art+Work+004.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Imperfect Colt&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Have you ever sat in an emergency clinic? Nothing is an emergency; it takes 2 hours of waiting to get looked at. And of course my foot was so swollen that it couldn’t be casted until a week later. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;The Artist Destiny&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh what a pain in my butt side it was to be in crutches and be forced to stay home. I was a very active wife, mother, rancher, cheerleading coach, and substitute teacher at the time. I became very bored. I asked my husband if he could get me some drawing pencils. He brought some home for me. I began doodling and then drawing. He also brought home some acrylic paint.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X-pmV8rAnAQ/TitSbI5sK4I/AAAAAAAAAn4/SRT-dv2hReQ/s1600/Art+Work+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X-pmV8rAnAQ/TitSbI5sK4I/AAAAAAAAAn4/SRT-dv2hReQ/s320/Art+Work+001.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sunflowers and Dragonflys&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
I was very grateful to have something to do. I must been really bored. I found the more drawing and doodling the more creativity was starting to flow through my fingertips. I started out just looking at different pictures in magazines. I would take a little picture of 2 x2 and draw it unto a full blown 8 x 11 drawing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My first actual doodle to drawing then to an acrylic painting is a little house with a chimney. It’s the first picture you see above. Then my next fascination was sketching the anatomy of horses. Of course! I lived and breathed horses; having a stallion and nine mares. Why wouldn’t I know the anatomy of a horse.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bB4u-9E48uM/TitTltdStKI/AAAAAAAAAn8/CC0u-xuht-c/s1600/Art+Work+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bB4u-9E48uM/TitTltdStKI/AAAAAAAAAn8/CC0u-xuht-c/s320/Art+Work+003.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sunflowers, a Horse and Dragonfly&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
As you can see I have evoled from just sketching, I like to work with oil, chalk, colored pencil and water color. Never spent a day in my life in a art class. Like I said before; I felt there was more that I could do. I believe we all have a GOD given talent and one day we find it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VDp-DPPLEXQ/TitUxOgnvZI/AAAAAAAAAoA/KXw5xv_o0DM/s1600/Art+Work+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VDp-DPPLEXQ/TitUxOgnvZI/AAAAAAAAAoA/KXw5xv_o0DM/s320/Art+Work+002.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sunflower Forest and Wild Flare&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Granted these drawings and painting are far from perfect; no artist is perfect and flawless. But this collection of art is who I am. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SRFELfpbY58/TitVtCHy5JI/AAAAAAAAAoE/VZe4rQCUzwc/s1600/Art+Work+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SRFELfpbY58/TitVtCHy5JI/AAAAAAAAAoE/VZe4rQCUzwc/s320/Art+Work+006.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Baby Colt in The Snow&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
I hope you have enjoyed just a few of my drawing an paintings as much as I enjoyed sharing them with you. I still try to take time for my one true talent. Tell me about your true talent and how it came about. I would love to hear about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6865519279655947222-3772010142343969278?l=www.jungleluv.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MOr6qRsIb5GovQK1XEJ0u3a229U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MOr6qRsIb5GovQK1XEJ0u3a229U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Jungleluv/~4/7PjfBm2GsBM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/feeds/3772010142343969278/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/07/true-artist-inspired-by-broken-leg.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/3772010142343969278?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6865519279655947222/posts/default/3772010142343969278?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Jungleluv/~3/7PjfBm2GsBM/true-artist-inspired-by-broken-leg.html" title="A True Artist Inspired By a Broken Leg" /><author><name>LINDA BALDRIDGE</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109300780972604290061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MdkWNQF0v4Q/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/9rNsnMo5fVo/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4luNOX-T4r4/TitPi8yFAWI/AAAAAAAAAns/Jo9ltTPFLKk/s72-c/fun+days+004.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.jungleluv.com/2011/07/true-artist-inspired-by-broken-leg.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

