<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sat, 14 Sep 2024 14:48:21 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>grand children</category><category>children</category><category>Cats</category><category>Robots</category><category>abandoned</category><category>birthdays</category><category>bottle fed</category><category>character</category><category>childrearing</category><category>daughter</category><category>education</category><category>empty nest</category><category>fabric</category><category>generations</category><category>integrity</category><category>love</category><category>model</category><category>pets</category><category>respect</category><category>school</category><category>sewing</category><category>son</category><category>success</category><category>teach</category><category>tiger paws</category><category>volunteer</category><title>Texas Nights</title><description></description><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><xhtml:meta content="noindex" name="robots" xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"/><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-5966182406760926843</guid><pubDate>Wed, 07 Oct 2009 03:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-06T20:12:36.751-07:00</atom:updated><title>&amp;quot;For That&amp;quot;</title><atom:summary type="text">As you all know, I'm a teacher.  In my profession we come across all sorts of people just as in any other occupation.  But, the education of a precious child is is of vital importance not only to the child and his parents, but also to the society as a whole.  Most parents will go to great lengths to ensure their children are getting the best education possible.  And, in cases where the parents </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2009/10/that.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-607844639572410689</guid><pubDate>Sun, 04 Oct 2009 03:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-03T20:19:34.265-07:00</atom:updated><title>New York City -vs- Los Angeles</title><atom:summary type="text"> I have traveled all but five of the contiguous states, Canada and Mexico.  Many hours were spent in Los Angeles, some in Washington D. C.  I saw all the sights and for the most part, did what the locals do too.  Mexico felt old world while Los Angeles felt hurried.  Canada felt like Minnesota or Michigan.  New York City though, there is no comparison.   Standing in the street and looking up, or </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2009/10/new-york-city-vs-los-angeles.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8byYsLJHff6EhuC2n-OV8ATA_QBJxQdhQ1ED-JZvnKLA8JvQraTF3HIeKH5gLjR000aDAMfl2ZShS0xbaJlr73e43LYsZ_Gy8aq1aZepztq3RT2KU4h0cpoWjMlRpgou0TEvCOd4/s72-c/nyc+in+july+2009+109.JPG" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-7067317582877945968</guid><pubDate>Sat, 03 Oct 2009 00:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-02T18:21:32.481-07:00</atom:updated><title>Nobody Answers When I Called Your Name, and Other Songs of Interest</title><atom:summary type="text">One of my all time favorite Country artists is Vince Gill. No one can sing a sad song with more feeling and heart. If you need to have a good cry and a little help with that wouldn't hurt, Vince will help you. It seems as if he wrote his songs for me. Like he looked at my life and my heart and sang them so that I could sing them too. Its like he knew I had tears to cry and shouldn't cry alone."Go</atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2009/10/nobody-answers-when-i-call-ed-your-name.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-8550299425001884680</guid><pubDate>Thu, 06 Aug 2009 23:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-06T16:50:03.840-07:00</atom:updated><title>New York City -- The Adventure</title><atom:summary type="text">  Ah... there it is.  New York City in all of it's glory.  People all over the United States and even the world, dream of coming to New York City.  There's no need to say which state or even which country New York City is in.  Everyone knows.  It's a world city.In geography, a world city is a location on the globe that people in all other parts of the globe know about and perhaps want to go there</atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2009/08/new-york-city-adventure.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwvyHzhItvJ6jinPrydRRo9zvqq1hf1CcuXipcI1pa1jJTVUHwkXxE3RiAgqw_8LE53PqW1OMohCtrBlL6_ZreBUkcyCp5tuTRswRbHJ4rdom2wa9FJxrD-FdqyPE2J5p1d3F10rk/s72-c/nyc+in+july+2009+089.JPG" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-7312386888045605075</guid><pubDate>Sun, 02 Aug 2009 03:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-01T20:24:00.869-07:00</atom:updated><title>The Quest for Knowledge</title><atom:summary type="text"> The two girls are my daughter and her best friend.  These girls went to school together, got married within days of each other, had their first babies just 10 days apart and now go to college together.  They are nearly inseparable.  Inviting my daughter on a little outing almost always comes with "can she come too?"  No one can deny these sweet girls anything.This particular trip was to Marfa, </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2009/08/quest-for-knowledge.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGCDoWySOPc6VgrMkX6k9KPDxXdI1BdPsLSZN6YQ69zgTrOmXFuUxhI2_JmaHcKIfXvgP52AFC8U3dEZ3cb_fQzTALR69i3d97OJjHaKgeZ37uo_OUng1uxNrrbYq91sdR2NW1c0N4/s72-c/100_1012.JPG" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-1501537569104475790</guid><pubDate>Fri, 10 Oct 2008 11:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-10-10T04:36:30.316-07:00</atom:updated><title>Stop!</title><atom:summary type="text">Yeah, you heard me.  Stop that.  Don't do it any more.  Life's too short.  "What?" you say?  Stop giving away your joy.  Enjoy every day.  Find something good in it.  Believe me, as a teacher it would be easy to never have any joy in my life.  After all, negative attitudes spread from one area of your life to another and before you know it, you end up with people who are angry and/or depressed.  </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/10/stop.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-1289789715148516819</guid><pubDate>Sat, 30 Aug 2008 23:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-30T16:42:26.061-07:00</atom:updated><title>Back to Work!</title><atom:summary type="text">Toady is the fist weekend after the students came back to school.  It also happens to be Labor Day weekend.  I made quite a few discoveries this past week.  First, I discovered that for some reason teaching is harder than it was last year.  That doesn't shock me much though.  Last year was harder than that year before.  And so on.  It's because of TAKS and other other such things as NCLB.But one </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/08/back-to-work.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-2310075403286229070</guid><pubDate>Tue, 19 Aug 2008 02:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-18T19:58:13.132-07:00</atom:updated><title>Home At Last!</title><atom:summary type="text">It's been a glorious summer!  I traveled over 11,000 miles.   I started with a visit from my daughter-in-law and granddaughter.  Then I went to California for a brief stay.  When I got home from California I went to Louisiana to see my son and return his family to him.  Then things really began to heat up!After my trip to Louisiana, I went to Austin a few times.  Once for school and the rest to </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/08/home-at-last.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-3797271265415682700</guid><pubDate>Sun, 27 Jul 2008 17:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-27T10:53:41.203-07:00</atom:updated><title>The Finer Things In Life</title><atom:summary type="text"> Last week my mother and I went to C.E.'s (my brother) house to visit. Its only a 12 hour drive, so the conversation with my mother was lively and fun as we meandered down the long highways. Once we got there, it was late in the day so we just hung around C.E.'s house the rest of the night.I had fun with my nieces and nephews and got to visit with my brother and his wife. During the course of the</atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/07/last-week-my-mother-and-i-went-to-c.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPz-MQ0i8EsIRpi7QkiWU6q7kmaw9jKzRDFwfCe3eWSWC2vx46OyO1_5EmrgvO45FeiEEsioVEnm2pHozLbFo-T5wh8b3JUDLR1HsAG7F2W5MQgpny6z_4sfpCLidHimW61kDX8NO2/s72-c/cell_072108_004-1.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-7276057529965331889</guid><pubDate>Mon, 21 Jul 2008 14:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-21T08:35:04.381-07:00</atom:updated><title>Traveling</title><atom:summary type="text">It seems traveling has been my most frequent activity this summer, and I'm still not done.  So far I have been to California, Florida, Louisiana, all over Texas, and Kansas is waiting for me.  Some of the trips I have taken alone, two taken with co-workers, but the best ones have been taken with family or to visit family.All through our lives we can make friends, and when necessary, we can make </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/07/traveling.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cFx5qnYnSyd3HI3nTz_2nCGcLKHsr6WfwCEINj-qAADEvr-ZeMqrWl1vTqOLXXrGkmG9swVfdTIWXmArhIeJCDBl9gv6BsLGQKwYWYqgtMyPNFpPkzbMmcJeR4tjNv9PtkhkjffX/s72-c/front2.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-9161539113497019036</guid><pubDate>Mon, 14 Jul 2008 16:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-14T09:55:49.149-07:00</atom:updated><title>First Born</title><atom:summary type="text">This young man is my oldest child.  He is 29 years old now, but I remember the day he was born as clearly as if it were yesterday.  There was some concern about if we were going to survive.   The things I learned that were important in life, most of them I learned from him.He taught me how to love, how manage my time, and what was important.  When he was born, evrything else paled in comparison </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/07/first-born.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4f4_pbL1w9arxeh0LonmaMDyqf-SThZhyphenhyphenlcrpN8VzlyBrSim1UX1FqNOH5mmynr8O6Xjn6lvE5F_HQdOtCxgNLEJY6dcMMYyxhyphenhyphenR9Xx1msVD5Rcms-hx842IfUmUY89hyjRySPghW/s72-c/whole+mem+card+pictures+004.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-7613484305877597147</guid><pubDate>Thu, 10 Jul 2008 13:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-10T06:47:52.231-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">birthdays</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">character</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">childrearing</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">grand children</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">integrity</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">love</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">respect</category><title>Birthdays</title><atom:summary type="text"> This is my first grandchild on the day he was born. He is fast approaching his first birthday. Of course I loved him before he was born, but the relationship between a child and his grandmother is special. Grandmas have the years of experience of raising their children in loving to use when loving their grandchildren. The old saying people don't know what they have until it's gone is most true </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/07/birthdays.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBgyscDmUdJs_cCW71ANL3pIQdbeVAif6zaOreaGwnZww-4t6lrBU-9sQe1uUezcsXCr1_9SfpH3522E5RoXOKEvxbEjzcL0rfJ6E7BD_H08GmWoGRJ4llct-zLEd9JCnJvNSmoOo/s72-c/SSPX0051.JPG" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-8086432074623091261</guid><pubDate>Sun, 06 Jul 2008 19:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-06T12:55:20.033-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">children</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">empty nest</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">generations</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">grand children</category><title>Generations</title><atom:summary type="text"> This picture of four generations is one of my favorites. It includes my mother, my granddaughter, myself, and my son. This was the first time my mother and I saw the new baby. There is this empty space in my house that used to be my son's room. All his things are still there as well as some of his clothes. Its just like he left it, well, almost. When he and his wife came home for Christmas, it </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/07/generations.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-d653nOqQmjoV83qhIFu-kINdxG0iZXs_TKXh6HO4yktkWcyF6RN79P2NXiLgzq9QT3BllVRl8Xxv5_EJFVbnsEnAuA_mUpak2vKg_HS9nnQZfyuQMhw5cBu6HyYe43TDfQcMqAIa/s72-c/Photo_031508_002.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-2136572895410007418</guid><pubDate>Sat, 05 Jul 2008 21:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-05T15:25:32.330-07:00</atom:updated><title>The Red Hat Society</title><atom:summary type="text">We went  to a local restaurant during an educators leadership training conference.  Once inside, we couldn't help but notice this lovely group of ladies.  Everyone of them was over 65 years of age and they were having a blast.Their conversation was intense, although we weren't close enough to hear them.  It got my imagination going as to what they could be talking about.  For sure they had to be </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/07/red-hat-society.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFTEpmasYI5c_CWM7Pu5eSmef7iA-aGGFN8KBbh6bTTqHnxjexYG76wTFxF7ZsIzx-jxZxT6qVFOCU65OZ4PNeUm1m52mdZDpq_m6CFs1wphZIGUaTkxWZM5zklP87L1pWyWGGJv_M/s72-c/cell_051508_001.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-4056489658857927294</guid><pubDate>Fri, 04 Jul 2008 03:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-05T15:26:40.090-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">son</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">tiger paws</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">volunteer</category><title>The Volunteer Firefighter</title><atom:summary type="text"> Of course, no day of firsts would be complete without this timeless picture of my youngest son. He is one of those all-man volunteer firemen, turned U. S. Navy. But, there was the day when I found him wearing my tiger paw slippers. It seems the floor was cold on that winter morning and my slippers were in plain sight. Those long hairy legs somehow didn't fit the profile of the intended wearer of</atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-course-no-day-of-firsts-would-be.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxNWmmPrt-ap_f5BeJCwRO7OyXWjPaeAtUk4wE834EG3M61DaHW1BwUUyS9YBZEi3tnovriyQsaTJetRTriYWzQglr5zaT4OxPOJt5616-NMScoYty32YtmhoFjTcpxPNTlpe1Qoph/s72-c/SSPX0090.JPG" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-3938987435946586117</guid><pubDate>Fri, 04 Jul 2008 03:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-10-01T05:54:34.871-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">daughter</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">fabric</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">model</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sewing</category><title>Sewing in a Flash</title><atom:summary type="text"> This is my daughter. It was a great day! I had returned home from an extended business trip the day before. She announced she was pregnant and wanted to have me make her one last dress before she was a mommy. It was to be her last fling at being mommy's girl. So, we shopped for fabric and I completed the dress that day. She modeled it for me, but didn't know I was going to be taking pictures. I </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/07/sewing-in-flash.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvrC_RB7u-RNVqlzgVCapM656ZEu7bgdTZIiP2GBZNec5jCDTy9R-xafIpfvZ3FmPaGt4egtC9GtSx2y9qZQNZT5jZ4cLVJAdfoPYCvpDjEby-kIhWc_1127tW_vabxDcgqn18b-QT/s72-c/SSPX0085.JPG" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-3425892558242687592</guid><pubDate>Wed, 02 Jul 2008 02:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-05T15:27:51.855-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">children</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">grand children</category><title>When Your Little Princess Becomes a Queen</title><atom:summary type="text"> It seems like it happened over night.  One day I had this house full of kids in diapers and a seven year old playing with his trucks.  I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes early one morning, and they were all gone.  The oldest one moved to another state and works as a truck driver.  The next one is in the Navy, is married and has a little princess of his own.  And my little princess, my youngest, </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/07/when-your-little-princess-becomes-queen.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLEDvQ-U4E4BBis1bqiR_pLqabETzbABGQV63tI4_RmOX8pZjGvoBXKJ5barTyt5gCilpAjrF3yCFLfTPyTm9V4N8YBgNmyAsvD30M_eEnxhN7NNfaK297dft2zLMr0wWsbWgktVq/s72-c/Feb82008+008.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-3996500248742685622</guid><pubDate>Tue, 01 Jul 2008 00:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-06T12:58:33.944-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">education</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Robots</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">school</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">success</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">teach</category><title>Social Studies Teachers Can Build Robots Too</title><atom:summary type="text"> As most of my friends know, I teach LIFE, government, economics and geography. I do not teach science or math. I don't teach mechanics or shop. However, I came across B.E.S.T. and decided I would like to teach kids how to make a robot and then enter that robot into competition. I asked my boss, who lets me do anything I want, and of course he said with a chuckle, "O.K.".With the registration </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/06/robot-competition.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Ho8ffkY2PS9rVdFVs1qUvmC31DEyDFlnKhlJIVMqqnmLA9dit6gG5pObTM_6E-2wZwfIAfWUv1cOohJ7H6S0AsZMVqfwn9MlQaB-TsDwE94zvJff1-OtM3CC1K4e4dZ61Px37fcz/s72-c/SSPX0019.JPG" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2920889088251320693.post-3107686534673257822</guid><pubDate>Mon, 30 Jun 2008 05:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-05T15:30:26.803-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">abandoned</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">bottle fed</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Cats</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">pets</category><title>The Cat</title><atom:summary type="text">This is my cat, Baby. The cat might not seem like a great first choice for a first blog entry. But, you know what? I like cats and I hope you do too. She is giving me that look. The one that says I'm supposed to be doing something, but I'm not doing what ever it is she wants me to do.Her name came natural. When we got her she was only 2 days old. Her mother had abandoned her. She was bottle fed </atom:summary><link>http://txnights.blogspot.com/2008/06/cat.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (It's me!)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0wJstDtpMscCfCLQS9QVKFKmuWoBykpjoFfzN4Udt0IYmZur7vdT2Ypnm3xOUJ_C3PRctYZZRA_FWElFbdfWFBpAscUcVuZNkpAkoC1nSSHcxb65jNQ4t-5cZI5JUa4z6JA0_O81E/s72-c/cell_050908_001.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>