<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6777908453128121676</id><updated>2024-11-01T03:34:47.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cackling Hen</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Cackling Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13226955214333965006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6lqULjLw_bZvo3fNAKMG0TwWDNNVLFDRywg1PROniQASMOetua2GcqUbB_etI_XfGCKknn1YV0Aihzy3xMnVlRfFy59hAqBOxLAfdSCCs4ASESzD4Ga2HYemBON8_G0/s220/SCAN0019.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6777908453128121676.post-5320607221593560087</id><published>2013-08-15T07:05:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2013-08-15T07:05:53.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;h2&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&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;Grief&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;part 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;
&lt;h2&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: x-large;&quot;&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;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAI62QVqttfpFZFY1uob6owjfIWLxGWQjUaw2zo0TGqgHT8Ou-xxCOW02eIuPdKPTLvKpUVAMW81OmoGI3oi0qIjSImFe8Es2-b5Ejr2tQS-J2AR_szp_SgF1xxsb9tRqkahsYhZCZBSc/s1600/11145_1103590644597_8326139_n.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAI62QVqttfpFZFY1uob6owjfIWLxGWQjUaw2zo0TGqgHT8Ou-xxCOW02eIuPdKPTLvKpUVAMW81OmoGI3oi0qIjSImFe8Es2-b5Ejr2tQS-J2AR_szp_SgF1xxsb9tRqkahsYhZCZBSc/s400/11145_1103590644597_8326139_n.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Stephen Dodrill&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Come October 31st my oldest son, Stephen, will be gone for four years. &amp;nbsp;There are hard things you do in life that when looked back on the pain is forgotten. &amp;nbsp;You remember it being hard, but the pain is gone. &amp;nbsp;I as remember each of my three births I know there was pain, but really can&#39;t recall any of it. &amp;nbsp;Which is the way God designed it or we&#39;d stop having children after one birth. &amp;nbsp;However, the loss of my son is a pain deep in my soul that has not gone away after four years. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am comforted by the fact that my son made a confession of faith a year before the accident. &amp;nbsp;I am comforted when Stephen&#39;s friends have told me conversations he had with them telling them that life would not make sense without God. &amp;nbsp;There are other stories of how Stephen would &quot;rescue&quot; them when they had a flat tire or needed a ride home after a party when they had been drinking too much. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am comforted by the Bible when it tells me.....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;display: block; font-family: georgia, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a class=&quot;lbsBibleRef&quot; data-reference=&quot;1 Thessalonians 4.13&quot; data-version=&quot;nasb95&quot; href=&quot;http://biblia.com/bible/nasb95/1%20Thessalonians%204.13&quot; style=&quot;color: #669900; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;1 Thessalonians 4:13&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;– Brothers we don’t want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep: or to grieve like the rest of men who have no hope.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;display: block; font-family: georgia, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a class=&quot;lbsBibleRef&quot; data-reference=&quot;2 Corinthians1.3-4&quot; data-version=&quot;nasb95&quot; href=&quot;http://biblia.com/bible/nasb95/2%20Corinthians1.3-4&quot; style=&quot;color: #669900; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;2 Corinthians1:3-4&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;– What a wonderful God we have-He is the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the source of every mercy, and the one who so wonderfully comforts and strengthens us in our hardships and trials.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;display: block; font-family: georgia, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a class=&quot;lbsBibleRef&quot; data-reference=&quot;Psalm 34.18&quot; data-version=&quot;nasb95&quot; href=&quot;http://biblia.com/bible/nasb95/Psalm%2034.18&quot; style=&quot;color: #669900; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Psalm 34:18&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;– The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed. New Living Translation&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, the pain is still there. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s like a cut that aches and won&#39;t stop or go away. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve learned to live with the pain. &amp;nbsp;Yet there are times when I can see that whole day in my mind like I am watching from a spectator&#39;s view. &amp;nbsp;Some times I watch the replay because I can&#39;t stop it. &amp;nbsp;There are other times when I can choose not to replay it. &amp;nbsp;I used to sob when the replay would start like the day he died - to the point I would have to pull over if I was driving so as not to have an accident. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t cry hardly at all now about Stephen being gone and when I do it&#39;s just a few tears that spill over. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What &amp;nbsp;has God been teaching me these last four years? &amp;nbsp;That life is hard but God is good. &amp;nbsp;That Jesus weeps when I weep. &amp;nbsp;That God keeps my tears,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;heading passage-class-0&quot; style=&quot;font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px;&quot;&gt;
&lt;h3 style=&quot;font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #93c47d;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Times, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Psalm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt; 56:8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;txt-sm&quot; style=&quot;color: #5c1101; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;&quot;&gt;
New Living Translation (NLT)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;passage version-NLT result-text-style-normal text-html &quot;&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;poetry top-1&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 2.6em; position: relative;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;line&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 0px;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text Ps-56-8&quot; id=&quot;en-NLT-14740&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; position: relative;&quot;&gt;&lt;sup class=&quot;versenum&quot; style=&quot;display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;&quot;&gt;8&amp;nbsp;&lt;/sup&gt;You keep track of all my sorrows.&lt;sup class=&quot;footnote&quot; style=&quot;font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;&quot; value=&quot;[&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#fen-NLT-14740a&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See footnote a&amp;quot;&amp;gt;a&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;]&quot;&gt;[&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+56%3A8&amp;amp;version=NLT#fen-NLT-14740a&quot; style=&quot;color: #651300; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;&quot; title=&quot;See footnote a&quot;&gt;a&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;indent-1&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;indent-1-breaks&quot; style=&quot;font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text Ps-56-8&quot; style=&quot;position: relative;&quot;&gt;You have collected all my tears in your bottle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;indent-1-breaks&quot; style=&quot;font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text Ps-56-8&quot; style=&quot;position: relative;&quot;&gt;You have recorded each one in your book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
. &lt;br /&gt;
I have become more gracious as I realize life is short and most stuff doesn&#39;t matter. I am God&#39;s child and that I don&#39;t have to do anything, beyond asking Him in my heart, to earn His love and favor. &amp;nbsp;Anymore that my kids have to earn my love and favor.....I just love them because they&#39;re mine. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have begun reading the Bible daily. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s been hard for me to figure out what to read over the years and so my devotions had been far and few between. &amp;nbsp;My husband, David, has been reading the Bible in a year for the last three years. Last year I found a small Bible in a year booklet, at a church where we were listening to a speaker, that I have been using. &amp;nbsp;I have been surprised that I&#39;ve been keeping up with my readings most months. &amp;nbsp;I am learning a lot about God, His goodness towards me, and my faith is growing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Hosea 13:14 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;-- I will ransom them from the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death. Where, O death, are your plagues? &amp;nbsp;Where, O grave, is your destruction?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/feeds/5320607221593560087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/08/1-stephen-dodrill-come-october-31st-my.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/5320607221593560087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/5320607221593560087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/08/1-stephen-dodrill-come-october-31st-my.html' title=''/><author><name>The Cackling Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13226955214333965006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6lqULjLw_bZvo3fNAKMG0TwWDNNVLFDRywg1PROniQASMOetua2GcqUbB_etI_XfGCKknn1YV0Aihzy3xMnVlRfFy59hAqBOxLAfdSCCs4ASESzD4Ga2HYemBON8_G0/s220/SCAN0019.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAI62QVqttfpFZFY1uob6owjfIWLxGWQjUaw2zo0TGqgHT8Ou-xxCOW02eIuPdKPTLvKpUVAMW81OmoGI3oi0qIjSImFe8Es2-b5Ejr2tQS-J2AR_szp_SgF1xxsb9tRqkahsYhZCZBSc/s72-c/11145_1103590644597_8326139_n.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6777908453128121676.post-1851566998044572802</id><published>2013-08-02T09:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2013-08-02T09:06:24.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I was listening to the radio in my Jeep on the way to the day old bread store and had the radio blasting. &amp;nbsp;Well, it was at blasting volume when I got in the Jeep and since Lady Antebellum&#39;s song,&lt;i&gt; I Need You Now&lt;/i&gt;, was on I left it there. &amp;nbsp;While rolling down our lane I started to remember how this song came on the radio when Emily, my sister, and I were cleaning out the barn garage just after Stephen, my 18 son, died. &amp;nbsp;This time I didn&#39;t cry. &amp;nbsp;I just enjoyed thinking about him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;212&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5g2TNHlGuJxfp8GW1a_yp7K2ErJOHavliveiCLc-Kvcohnkf1Qo4XTabw_hyphenhyphen4FMa750CgVl3pVB7jzQmidLRmYMivPJMfqyOq7-2C2Rm3e-5MaNxx1ozxK-VE33Rqaoc22Ox-uZv47E/s320/DSC_0505_0022.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Earlier in the day I tried to start the weed eater only to fail.......repeatedly. &amp;nbsp;Some times in the past 3 years that alone would reduce me to tears as Stephen would not be here to start it for me. &amp;nbsp;Instead, Stephen&#39;s friend, Hunter, was over doing some work around the place and he came over and started it for me. I was glad he was there. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s nice to have Stephen&#39;s friends over working around here. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s almost as good as having Stephen here. &amp;nbsp;Almost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I have been so blessed that Stephen&#39;s friends will come over every now and then, even if it&#39;s to work. &amp;nbsp;However, every now and then I expect Stephen to come around the barn or pull up in the &quot;Dirty Max&quot;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2JfbeZ1n6IRuXEQuytHj15KvWgP0SHAeiS90HaVIwQKkBnrILdnTnzpgpiSjknzXSJ3zsoNrGA7mp4NjZTT0KI_xPzv5fwCiiTUa0x-XsDimi14s0XQx8VlHaswppzwrYbZLLiSlM-s/s320/DSCN1541_0025.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;When I hear a diesel truck coming down our lane I usually stop what I an doing and look up. Even after three and a half years I wait to see if it&#39;s him. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/feeds/1851566998044572802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/08/i-was-listening-to-radio-in-my-jeep-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/1851566998044572802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/1851566998044572802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/08/i-was-listening-to-radio-in-my-jeep-on.html' title=''/><author><name>The Cackling Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13226955214333965006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6lqULjLw_bZvo3fNAKMG0TwWDNNVLFDRywg1PROniQASMOetua2GcqUbB_etI_XfGCKknn1YV0Aihzy3xMnVlRfFy59hAqBOxLAfdSCCs4ASESzD4Ga2HYemBON8_G0/s220/SCAN0019.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5g2TNHlGuJxfp8GW1a_yp7K2ErJOHavliveiCLc-Kvcohnkf1Qo4XTabw_hyphenhyphen4FMa750CgVl3pVB7jzQmidLRmYMivPJMfqyOq7-2C2Rm3e-5MaNxx1ozxK-VE33Rqaoc22Ox-uZv47E/s72-c/DSC_0505_0022.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6777908453128121676.post-4768168891076088924</id><published>2013-08-02T09:03:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2013-08-02T09:03:41.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;A few years ago while vacationing in Jacksonville, Florida, David and I had a debate about wether or not The Donut Shoppe had the best doughnuts. &amp;nbsp;I assured him that they did. &amp;nbsp;He was not as eager to agree. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEePLYqMYHvY-s-6_EoqHLunjnSqY6Kd-YrwwCOJNFL403e0eWKJUK-qYgNY1VTdwPFvYeh6Dqsb9ENhSn3k_lQowG4vU9A7WmsHKuojq1SODfYolVwUGFoSsRUpckgXnhqxlkJeQwNc8/s1600/DSC_0111.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;212&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEePLYqMYHvY-s-6_EoqHLunjnSqY6Kd-YrwwCOJNFL403e0eWKJUK-qYgNY1VTdwPFvYeh6Dqsb9ENhSn3k_lQowG4vU9A7WmsHKuojq1SODfYolVwUGFoSsRUpckgXnhqxlkJeQwNc8/s320/DSC_0111.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;We decided to try doughnuts where ever we went to compare. &amp;nbsp;That fall David and I went to Nashville, TN for a close-to-home get away. &amp;nbsp;We started on our doughnut comparisons. &amp;nbsp;We went to two local doughnut shops. &amp;nbsp;I looked for them on a search engine and it came up with two and reviews of said doughnut shops. &amp;nbsp;Neither reviews were very hopeful. &amp;nbsp;Then we were off to eat a large variety of doughnuts similar to those at The Donut Shoppe. &amp;nbsp;Most of the doughnuts we did not finish as we were eating in the name of science. &amp;nbsp;Actually, at one shop is was easy not to finish as those doughnuts were pretty tasteless and left an oily taste in our mouths. &amp;nbsp;Our finding were that those doughnuts were not even close to tasting as good as The Donut Shoppe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;We also went to Indianapolis to compare doughnuts. &amp;nbsp;We hit one in Greenwood and one in Southport. &amp;nbsp;The one in Greenwood did not hold a candle to The Donut Shoppe. &amp;nbsp;The bakery in Southport, Long&#39;s Bakery, gave The Donut Shoppe a run for it&#39;s money. &amp;nbsp;As close second. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;So far my first bold statement that &quot;The Donut Shoppe has the best doughnuts&quot; still stands. &amp;nbsp;If you think you have some amazing doughnuts in your town, please share with the class. &amp;nbsp;I am always looking for a reason to go on a road trip!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/feeds/4768168891076088924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/08/a-few-years-ago-while-vacationing-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/4768168891076088924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/4768168891076088924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/08/a-few-years-ago-while-vacationing-in.html' title=''/><author><name>The Cackling Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13226955214333965006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6lqULjLw_bZvo3fNAKMG0TwWDNNVLFDRywg1PROniQASMOetua2GcqUbB_etI_XfGCKknn1YV0Aihzy3xMnVlRfFy59hAqBOxLAfdSCCs4ASESzD4Ga2HYemBON8_G0/s220/SCAN0019.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEePLYqMYHvY-s-6_EoqHLunjnSqY6Kd-YrwwCOJNFL403e0eWKJUK-qYgNY1VTdwPFvYeh6Dqsb9ENhSn3k_lQowG4vU9A7WmsHKuojq1SODfYolVwUGFoSsRUpckgXnhqxlkJeQwNc8/s72-c/DSC_0111.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6777908453128121676.post-948499886920214627</id><published>2013-06-12T11:33:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2013-06-12T11:33:48.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Late May David and I headed down to Northern Georgia to hike a small section of the Appalachian Trail. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-1HOrOEeBwG-uMuQLn_GFBLs8EgznMIra6OR4LmpndaYnreMmWut5RfAaz-p4exCEj5EWC8NTUzGCP-GDXE9biAIYUmdi3TCLBoR8ieM2bfvv3wKFvct8A34RgwVOHWZe2ZR-P4Hz0Io/s1600/DSC00112.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-1HOrOEeBwG-uMuQLn_GFBLs8EgznMIra6OR4LmpndaYnreMmWut5RfAaz-p4exCEj5EWC8NTUzGCP-GDXE9biAIYUmdi3TCLBoR8ieM2bfvv3wKFvct8A34RgwVOHWZe2ZR-P4Hz0Io/s320/DSC00112.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;We managed to stay on the trail for three whole days. We hiked about 30 miles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitfV63l4NRNUeZ-rqsnujBTHc9IBqbltObRw6PyfiAy5KUWzAWmFUUpGfJT1qMV2Sp7d-W-1AhC5TOubN2ryoxorE1qBbj3HZKOnK4zNDqb54tpmamftNqAyfoPvgigHTzoxrYENHleU/s1600/DSC00116.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitfV63l4NRNUeZ-rqsnujBTHc9IBqbltObRw6PyfiAy5KUWzAWmFUUpGfJT1qMV2Sp7d-W-1AhC5TOubN2ryoxorE1qBbj3HZKOnK4zNDqb54tpmamftNqAyfoPvgigHTzoxrYENHleU/s320/DSC00116.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Despite the fact that the back pack I was using was too big did not slow me down. &amp;nbsp;I was determined to make it to Neel&#39;s Gap and procure a new one that actually fit and hike on to the NOC. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2e5rXOrYyj5t5CIYiAQhphJZH3brSeLttPO7GZqyOmHmaZRnjQjPZYYdPnyOG8NvgVD4cAe59Ft_c1fZCOLNC84tpbXGHG_zG2lZdARMP81HIVGayC4aQecjZEGLsjwBelSRSYl5QBII/s1600/DSC00118.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2e5rXOrYyj5t5CIYiAQhphJZH3brSeLttPO7GZqyOmHmaZRnjQjPZYYdPnyOG8NvgVD4cAe59Ft_c1fZCOLNC84tpbXGHG_zG2lZdARMP81HIVGayC4aQecjZEGLsjwBelSRSYl5QBII/s320/DSC00118.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;The morning of day three David had what we thought was a bladder infection. &amp;nbsp;We made it over Blood Mountain, the highest point in Georgia on the AT, and headed into Blairsville to get David to a doctor. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully, Wally World had a Doc-in-a-box and David got right in. &amp;nbsp;Turns out he was dehydrated and had a bladder infection. &amp;nbsp;Over dinner we discussed taking a zero day, no hiking, and getting him rehydrated and a good two days of medicine in him before hiking on. &amp;nbsp;However David got a call after dinner that his cousin&#39;s husband had been killed in an auto accident that morning. &amp;nbsp;We decided to come home. &amp;nbsp;The funeral was going to be that Friday and as I have learned presence is a comfort to those who mourn as much as any words ever spoken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #08387a; font-family: Times;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div align=&quot;LEFT&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Isaiah 25:8&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove the disgrace of his people from all the earth. The LORD has spoken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/feeds/948499886920214627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/06/late-may-david-and-i-headed-down-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/948499886920214627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/948499886920214627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/06/late-may-david-and-i-headed-down-to.html' title=''/><author><name>The Cackling Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13226955214333965006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6lqULjLw_bZvo3fNAKMG0TwWDNNVLFDRywg1PROniQASMOetua2GcqUbB_etI_XfGCKknn1YV0Aihzy3xMnVlRfFy59hAqBOxLAfdSCCs4ASESzD4Ga2HYemBON8_G0/s220/SCAN0019.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-1HOrOEeBwG-uMuQLn_GFBLs8EgznMIra6OR4LmpndaYnreMmWut5RfAaz-p4exCEj5EWC8NTUzGCP-GDXE9biAIYUmdi3TCLBoR8ieM2bfvv3wKFvct8A34RgwVOHWZe2ZR-P4Hz0Io/s72-c/DSC00112.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6777908453128121676.post-4606762407469739868</id><published>2013-05-30T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-05-30T10:53:31.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>May 10th, my son, Joshua, and I started hiking the Appalachian Trail at Springer Mountain. I was delighted to start there and not have to begin 8 miles south at Amicalola State Park where I was originally going to leave the car. &amp;nbsp; We took pictures at a beautiful spot with the Georgia mountains in the background. &amp;nbsp;Then we set off. &amp;nbsp;My pack was uncomfortable but brushed off the thought as I would have to get used to it as we hiked. &amp;nbsp;We passed by Springer Mountain Shelter and paused there to get a drink and rest a bit. &amp;nbsp;As we hiked on I noticed that the once white blazes, that tell you you are still on the AT, changed to light blue blazes. &amp;nbsp;What? &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s not right. &amp;nbsp;We stopped and I pulled out the maps and searched for any comments on blue blazes. &amp;nbsp;I could not find anything. &amp;nbsp;I looked at the map hoping to see my error but could not figure it out. &amp;nbsp;I knew something was wrong but could not figure it out. &amp;nbsp;Joshua did not seem alarmed by it and we hiked on. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As we hiked we passed a number of hikers along the way. &amp;nbsp;The weather was overcast and a cool breeze encouraged us along. &amp;nbsp;We were a bit worried about potential rain but didn&#39;t get any while we were hiking. &amp;nbsp;There were lots of little flowers along the hike, purple, white and yellow. &amp;nbsp;Spring is mostly done in Georgia so those flowers cheered us along. &amp;nbsp;We stopped for dinner about 5:30 and were glad to have the packs off our backs for an extended time. &amp;nbsp;Then we were off again. &amp;nbsp;We came down a series of steps to a road with a sign on one side and a creek with a sign on the other. &amp;nbsp;I was eager to see what the signs said. &amp;nbsp;The sign on our side of the road said &quot;Approach Trail&quot; and the sign on the other side showed where the trail led from there........to the Appalachian Trail. &amp;nbsp;What? &amp;nbsp;How in the world did we hike back to the spot we had just driven to avoid? &amp;nbsp;I really wanted to cut that 8 miles out of our day. But no......&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I called David and told him our tale. &amp;nbsp;I was so utterly discouraged. &amp;nbsp;I did not want to hike back the way we came. &amp;nbsp;Not because I was too proud but because I knew how hard that would be and how far we&#39;d have to go just to get to Springer Mt. shelter. &amp;nbsp;I remembered that I had asked a ranger earlier in the day about a shuttle service to the start of the AT on top of Springer Mountain. He said he was able to do it at 5:30 but I had hoped to get on the AT before then. &amp;nbsp;He gave us a map with directions on how to get there and that there were indeed parking spaces. &amp;nbsp;As I remembered that conversation, I wondered if he was still there and if we could get a ride. &amp;nbsp;Joshua called as I was afraid I would end up crying on the phone. The ranger, Bob, could come and get us in 30 minutes and haul us back to Springer Mountain.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When the car pulled up, it was Ranger Bob. &amp;nbsp;I laughed inside. &amp;nbsp;It was good to see a familar face, even if I didn&#39;t know him. &amp;nbsp;We got in and told him our tale of how we got there. &amp;nbsp;Bob told us that it is easy to get turned around. &amp;nbsp;He reassured me that he had gone in a circle twice when he had been on the AT. &amp;nbsp;Bob also told me that my first instinct about the blue blazes was right. &amp;nbsp;The next time we should stop and go back to where I stopped seeing white blazes. &amp;nbsp;Good to know. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Joshua and I got out of Ranger Bob&#39;s Subaru and headed north on the AT. &amp;nbsp;We hoped to make it to the first shelter before dark. &amp;nbsp;It was only about 2 miles. &amp;nbsp;Did I mention it was all down hill? We hiked along thankful that we were going in the right direction. &amp;nbsp;We made it to the shelter at dusk. &amp;nbsp;Just enough light to pull out our sleeping bags, sleeping pads and food. &amp;nbsp;I figured out how to get our bear bag of food up in &amp;nbsp;the tree. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully, this shelter had ready made bear bag lines and Joshua and I managed to get our food hung just before the rain set in. &amp;nbsp;We got up in the loft of the shelter as the bottom had filled already. &amp;nbsp;There was one guy in the loft but there was plenty of room for us. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As we got settled Joshua discovered that he did not have his sleeping bag. &amp;nbsp;He said it was supposed to be in my back pack. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t remember that conversation but don&#39;t reject it happened as my memory isn&#39;t what it used to be. &amp;nbsp;It was going to be a long, cold night for Joshua. &amp;nbsp;Which meant it was going to be a long night for me too. &amp;nbsp;Joshua was fitful at best. &amp;nbsp;About an hour or two later, I gave him my sleeping bag and pulled on my base layers over my clothes. Laid my raincoat on top and my down jacket over my feet. &amp;nbsp;I did sleep off and on all night. Between being cold and sleeping on a very hard floor, I was glad when morning came. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While eating a breakfast of oatmeal, Joshua and I talked about the fact he had no sleeping bag and did not want to wait for at least two days of hiking to get one. &amp;nbsp;I agreed and we hiked back to our car, thankful only about 2 miles (not the eight miles I had hoped to be down the trail). &amp;nbsp;While hiking back I realized that I could not go on with this pack. &amp;nbsp;It felt worse than the day before. &amp;nbsp;The more I hiked the more I was convinced that it would have to change before I got back on the trail.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As we hiked Joshua and I discussed what to do once off the AT. &amp;nbsp;Did we: 1. go find a outdoors store and get him a sleeping bag and me a backpack that fit, 2. go to Asheville and find something fun, 3. go check out the school he&#39;ll be attending in the fall, 4. go home. &amp;nbsp;Joshua opted for number 4, go home. &amp;nbsp;I was saddened by his decision. &amp;nbsp;I was so wanting an adventure with just he and I. &amp;nbsp;After all, I had planned to be gone a week, did we really need to go home? &amp;nbsp;Joshua was done. So we got in the car and headed north.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the way home I decided, just before we passed highway 404 in Nashville, TN that I would stop at the Publix grocery store and pick up a Mother&#39;s Day cake for me since the next day was Mother&#39;s day. &amp;nbsp;It almost made up for not getting to hike the Appalachian Trail. &amp;nbsp;Almost.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/feeds/4606762407469739868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/05/may-10th-my-son-joshua-and-i-started.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/4606762407469739868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/4606762407469739868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/05/may-10th-my-son-joshua-and-i-started.html' title=''/><author><name>The Cackling Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13226955214333965006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6lqULjLw_bZvo3fNAKMG0TwWDNNVLFDRywg1PROniQASMOetua2GcqUbB_etI_XfGCKknn1YV0Aihzy3xMnVlRfFy59hAqBOxLAfdSCCs4ASESzD4Ga2HYemBON8_G0/s220/SCAN0019.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6777908453128121676.post-8900353752892313498</id><published>2013-04-29T10:47:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2013-04-29T10:47:41.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Years ago, when blogging was gaining popularity, I had no interest in reading anyone&#39;s blog. &amp;nbsp;It seemed to me that who ever was blogging was quite presumptuous to think I would want to read what they wrote. &amp;nbsp;My sister then challenged my thinking and started writing her own blog. &amp;nbsp;UGH!!!! I am going to have to eat my words! &amp;nbsp; When Emily began blogging, I only read her blog for a number of years.&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&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; &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiNVZ2fBMI41WVLBFlRIDJItkRKd_SpZ2lwbAuxfWfA0N58t4oqnbS8DJDda7YE8krn2rTcnr85h5YDZ3OSuaQGOisHgEGpBdmSLTsGxNnI-GgYBemlv7i2tStnyPcNkMmYtyRf1UqME/s1600/DSC_0685.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;212&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiNVZ2fBMI41WVLBFlRIDJItkRKd_SpZ2lwbAuxfWfA0N58t4oqnbS8DJDda7YE8krn2rTcnr85h5YDZ3OSuaQGOisHgEGpBdmSLTsGxNnI-GgYBemlv7i2tStnyPcNkMmYtyRf1UqME/s320/DSC_0685.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Here&#39;s Emily and I in Dubrovnik, Croatia 2013&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Her blog, in case you are interested, is www.gideonsfuturehope.blogspot.com &amp;nbsp;After my son, Stephen, died, Emily began blogging about her journey through her grief. &amp;nbsp;It was balm for my broken heart. &amp;nbsp;Emily gave my grief words when I had none. &amp;nbsp;Mind you, it was not in every blog but it was sprinkled over the three years. She was my voice. &amp;nbsp;I am ever grateful for her words. &amp;nbsp;I am not the writer in my family (of the Swift&#39;s), Emily is. &amp;nbsp;After I write this, I&#39;ll have my writer-husband, David Dodrill, edit my work as I am sure to leave out needed comas and words. &amp;nbsp;Emily has a degree from Florida State University in English. &amp;nbsp;My husband has a Masters in American History from the University of Florida with a published master thesis from Alabama Press. &amp;nbsp;David&#39;s book is called &lt;i&gt;Selling The Dream, &lt;/i&gt;a&amp;nbsp;book about the Gulf American Corporation and the land boom in Cape Coral, Florida and the company that changed the way selling land was done.&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/A1UaUIT0zQL._SL1500_.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;fullScreen&quot; src=&quot;http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/A1UaUIT0zQL._SL1500_.jpg&quot; style=&quot;height: 700px; margin-top: 10px; width: 464.15999999999997px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Over the last year Emily has had more on her plate and has had a hard time finding the time to blog. &amp;nbsp;This is where I come in. &amp;nbsp;She has shown me that blogging can be done only once a week. &amp;nbsp;What a relief! &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not sure I have much more to say than once a week anyway! &amp;nbsp;Frankly, my blog is more of a diary that is public. &amp;nbsp;Not sure why I need it out there for everyone, except that maybe it will get me writing and putting some thought into it. &amp;nbsp;No need to write in and tell me about my typo&#39;s or syntax as I am not good at grammar and tend to leave words out. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/feeds/8900353752892313498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/04/years-ago-when-blogging-was-gaining.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/8900353752892313498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/8900353752892313498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/04/years-ago-when-blogging-was-gaining.html' title=''/><author><name>The Cackling Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13226955214333965006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6lqULjLw_bZvo3fNAKMG0TwWDNNVLFDRywg1PROniQASMOetua2GcqUbB_etI_XfGCKknn1YV0Aihzy3xMnVlRfFy59hAqBOxLAfdSCCs4ASESzD4Ga2HYemBON8_G0/s220/SCAN0019.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiNVZ2fBMI41WVLBFlRIDJItkRKd_SpZ2lwbAuxfWfA0N58t4oqnbS8DJDda7YE8krn2rTcnr85h5YDZ3OSuaQGOisHgEGpBdmSLTsGxNnI-GgYBemlv7i2tStnyPcNkMmYtyRf1UqME/s72-c/DSC_0685.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6777908453128121676.post-8895879126586233808</id><published>2013-04-24T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-04-24T11:37:56.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>While sitting in Starbucks today at &quot;Coffee Therapy&quot; (a topic for another day), Lance asked me what I am taking with me on my hike on the Appalachian Trail. &amp;nbsp;My reply was &quot;as little as possible.&quot; I went on to mention to Lance that I had done some searching on the internet and had found little that actually helped due to my poorly-phrased search words. &amp;nbsp;It didn&#39;t really bother me that I hadn&#39;t gotten any good advice on what to take. &amp;nbsp;False sense of security? &amp;nbsp;Could be! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.footsloggers.com/75th-anniversary-of-the-completion-of-the-appalachian-trail&quot; id=&quot;irc_mil&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px;&quot;&gt;&lt;img height=&quot;240&quot; id=&quot;irc_mi&quot; src=&quot;http://www.footsloggers.com/wp-content/uploads/App-Trail-Approachj.jpg&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-background-size: 21px; -webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.648438) 0px 5px 35px; background-color: white; background-image: -webkit-linear-gradient(45deg, rgb(239, 239, 239) 25%, transparent 25%, transparent 75%, rgb(239, 239, 239) 75%, rgb(239, 239, 239)), -webkit-linear-gradient(45deg, rgb(239, 239, 239) 25%, transparent 25%, transparent 75%, rgb(239, 239, 239) 75%, rgb(239, 239, 239)); background-position: 0px 0px, 10px 10px; background-size: 21px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.648438) 0px 5px 35px; margin-top: 0px;&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div id=&quot;irc_mimg&quot; style=&quot;display: inline-block; left: 0px; padding-top: 20px; position: absolute; right: 0px; width: 1141px;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While taking my MacBook to get fixed, I began to think about my conversation with Lance and maybe I ought to take a chance that someone at JL Waters (outdoor equipment store) might know something. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s a long shot as most of the knowledgable people don&#39;t work there anymore. &amp;nbsp;Bother! &amp;nbsp;But I felt nudged by God so I stopped anyway. &amp;nbsp;I parked on the square, having never seen so many parking spots at 11 AM, and walked to the cross walk. &amp;nbsp;I wondered if I should instead stop in The Tap and see if Matt was working today. &amp;nbsp;I wrestled around with that as I know they only sell beer and no food. &amp;nbsp;I do like some beers, but know it only takes a small amount of alcohol for me to need a driver. &amp;nbsp;So as I am having this conversation with myself, who comes into view? &amp;nbsp;Matt! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matt used to work in JL Waters but now works three doors down. &amp;nbsp;My son, Stephen, used to go to JL Waters when Matt worked there and discuss outdoor gear. &amp;nbsp;Stephen got a lot of stuff there. &amp;nbsp;A lot of great stuff with Matt&#39;s help and my credit card. &amp;nbsp;And I&#39;ll be using some of it on this hike. &amp;nbsp;Matt is standing in front of The Tap because he is waiting to get let in to work. &amp;nbsp;I am so excited because now I get to talk to Matt and not have to buy beer or bother him while he is at work. &amp;nbsp;He tells me he has helped a lot of people get ready for hiking the AT. &amp;nbsp;Yeah, me!!!! &amp;nbsp;All that to say, we are getting together this Friday to discuss and plan for the hike Joshua and I will do for two weeks, and then the one week David and I will hike. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I tell you all this because I have felt that God has been teaching me to listen to His still small voice. &amp;nbsp;As of the last month or two, I have been working on asking God questions during the day and straining to hear Him. &amp;nbsp;Example: I was heading home and about to pass Wally World when I wondered if I needed to stop and get anything before I passed by. &amp;nbsp;I couldn&#39;t think of a thing, but I felt I needed to go anyway. &amp;nbsp;Not long after having gotten my buggy (sorry, I&#39;m from the South and that&#39;s what we call it) and heading past the Veggies, I ran into one of Stephen&#39;s friend&#39;s grandma. &amp;nbsp;We stop and chat and she tells me how much my Facebook post, after a funeral I attended, meant to her two grandsons. &amp;nbsp;And how much my son, Stephen, is still having an impact on those guys. &amp;nbsp;I told her how proud and honored I am to know those guys who were not afraid to walk alongside me when Stephen died. &amp;nbsp;As an adult, I have had a hard time knowing what to say or when to say it. &amp;nbsp;I even thought it didn&#39;t matter if I even showed up at that funeral. &amp;nbsp;But this group of young men, Stephen&#39;s friends, are not afraid. &amp;nbsp;These young men ask how I am doing when we meet, give me hugs, tell me stories of things they did with Stephen, and that they miss him. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t remember what I bought at Wally World that day. &amp;nbsp;I think I was supposed to go in to &quot;run into&quot; Debbie. &amp;nbsp;I hope it was to encourage her. &amp;nbsp;I know I was encouraged. &amp;nbsp;I know I ran into Matt today because I was listening to God after I asked the question about stopping at JL Waters. &amp;nbsp;I am starting to trust that still small voice more and more. &amp;nbsp;More of you Lord, less of me. &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; cellpadding=&quot;22&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;mainbk&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #b9e3ff; color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; width: 100%px;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;top&quot;&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;bluebk3&quot; style=&quot;background-color: #fffefd; background-repeat: no-repeat repeat;&quot; width=&quot;98%&quot;&gt;&lt;table border=&quot;0&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; style=&quot;width: 100%px;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot;&gt;&lt;table border=&quot;0&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; style=&quot;width: 100%px;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;btext&quot; colspan=&quot;2&quot; height=&quot;20&quot; style=&quot;color: #001320; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;He must become greater; I must become less.&quot; &amp;nbsp;John 3:30&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/feeds/8895879126586233808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/04/while-sitting-in-starbucks-today-at.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/8895879126586233808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6777908453128121676/posts/default/8895879126586233808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecacklinghen.blogspot.com/2013/04/while-sitting-in-starbucks-today-at.html' title=''/><author><name>The Cackling Hen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13226955214333965006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6lqULjLw_bZvo3fNAKMG0TwWDNNVLFDRywg1PROniQASMOetua2GcqUbB_etI_XfGCKknn1YV0Aihzy3xMnVlRfFy59hAqBOxLAfdSCCs4ASESzD4Ga2HYemBON8_G0/s220/SCAN0019.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>