<?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;CEQBSHYzcSp7ImA9WhRUF0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369</id><updated>2012-01-28T12:39:19.889-05:00</updated><category term="Giveaways" /><category term="Funnies" /><category term="The Year of Simplicity" /><category term="Decorating" /><category term="Marriage" /><category term="Family" /><category term="Food" /><category term="Fashion" /><category term="31 Days of Real" /><category term="Favorite Things" /><category term="Homeschooling" /><category term="Photography" /><category term="Writing" /><category term="Food (Recipes)" /><category term="Faith" /><category term="Whatever" /><category term="famil" /><category term="Frugality" /><category term="Books" /><title>a la mode</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>220</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/blogspot/ekfrD" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/ekfrd" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEENRH05fSp7ImA9WhRUFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-8687524072683721199</id><published>2012-01-24T11:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T11:31:35.325-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-24T11:31:35.325-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Year of Simplicity" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Homeschooling" /><title>Decisions &amp; School Daze {Part 2}: Know Thyself</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/8687524072683721199/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/decisions-school-daze-part-2-know.html#comment-form" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/8687524072683721199?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/8687524072683721199?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/XWjOdOkGIAM/decisions-school-daze-part-2-know.html" title="Decisions &amp; School Daze {Part 2}: Know Thyself" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kthHheKd1uk/Tx7V6kS_KWI/AAAAAAAACRE/1OF_FHrKOf0/s72-c/miles.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>12</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PScea2crFooHVp6jSSvdPzSbeAw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PScea2crFooHVp6jSSvdPzSbeAw/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/PScea2crFooHVp6jSSvdPzSbeAw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PScea2crFooHVp6jSSvdPzSbeAw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

Now here's a fella who knows who he is, stripes, plaids, black cape and all.


It's a Tuesday morning in January and I am all alone, writing this post and watching Kelly Ripa and Mary J. Blige host Live With Kelly. It's pretty much my dream. 

Do you know why I get to do this? Because I sent my kids to public school this semester. It's an abrupt departure from my life as a homeschool mom, a &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/XWjOdOkGIAM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/decisions-school-daze-part-2-know.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08BQng7fip7ImA9WhRUEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-5217035399310676651</id><published>2012-01-20T11:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T11:10:53.606-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-20T11:10:53.606-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Year of Simplicity" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Favorite Things" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Whatever" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Books" /><title>Let's Dish</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/5217035399310676651/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/lets-dish.html#comment-form" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/5217035399310676651?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/5217035399310676651?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/QOKLtC0NJ9Q/lets-dish.html" title="Let's Dish" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HjPFpMCph90/TxmKpbGIHUI/AAAAAAAACQs/2KtnfpRyOro/s72-c/blender.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LvWUOjnTN-rEarAYZzaD4_4PP28/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LvWUOjnTN-rEarAYZzaD4_4PP28/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LvWUOjnTN-rEarAYZzaD4_4PP28/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LvWUOjnTN-rEarAYZzaD4_4PP28/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;


I need more random on my blog. I feel the need to share an array of disconnected, rather irrelevant things but my tendency to write tidy, thematic posts precludes the miscellany bursting within. 

I'd like to mix things up a bit more. No need to always be so tidy and themey. 

So I may start doing a now-and-then post like this one called, "Let's Dish." What do you think?

Here goes. 

First &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/QOKLtC0NJ9Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/lets-dish.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAFQng4eSp7ImA9WhRVGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-1773239335413187444</id><published>2012-01-17T11:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T11:45:13.631-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T11:45:13.631-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Year of Simplicity" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Homeschooling" /><title>The Year of Simplicity: Decisions &amp; School Daze {Part 1}</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/1773239335413187444/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/year-of-simplicity-decisions-school.html#comment-form" title="34 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/1773239335413187444?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/1773239335413187444?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/smJQOk2fmH8/year-of-simplicity-decisions-school.html" title="The Year of Simplicity: Decisions &amp; School Daze {Part 1}" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tsABafSGN_c/TxWg5JBbxmI/AAAAAAAACQk/70veNaxR7m0/s72-c/RR+crossing.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>34</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GdsMxc4dZneMXh4Swf5zzL8V5mo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GdsMxc4dZneMXh4Swf5zzL8V5mo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
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My kids entered public school a few weeks ago. If you know me or have read my blog, you'll know that I've been homeschooling for the past four and a half years.

We had not been planning to put them in school. None of us had much time to prepare and as it turns out, that was for the best. No time to over-think, no time to over-stress, no time to work myself into more of a twisted mess of &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/smJQOk2fmH8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/year-of-simplicity-decisions-school.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQMQ3g_eyp7ImA9WhRVGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-740601569978960984</id><published>2012-01-13T09:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T11:39:42.643-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T11:39:42.643-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Favorite Things" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Whatever" /><title>On Guilty Pleasures, the Golden Globes, and Licking One's Arms</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/740601569978960984/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-guilty-pleasures-golden-globes-and.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/740601569978960984?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/740601569978960984?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/jZzMNum8NZU/on-guilty-pleasures-golden-globes-and.html" title="On Guilty Pleasures, the Golden Globes, and Licking One's Arms" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3C_RxIp9PMs/TxBAISggUdI/AAAAAAAACQc/N_o3FpVIJvw/s72-c/fave+things.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l6SAIpkPJ-3cjeAHg425Tw3B7gw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l6SAIpkPJ-3cjeAHg425Tw3B7gw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
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I take a break from my regularly scheduled series on simplicity {see here and here} and throw off the shackles of seriousness. 

It's Friday and I'm anticipating the Golden Globes entirely too much and my brain has checked out. Current thoughts are simply a glittery stew of Ricky Gervais, sequins, and fake eyelashes. So you can imagine my delight when Flower Patch Farmgirl's "Current Snapshot"&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/jZzMNum8NZU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-guilty-pleasures-golden-globes-and.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUGSH06eyp7ImA9WhRVGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-2690999510594371200</id><published>2012-01-11T10:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T11:37:09.313-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T11:37:09.313-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Year of Simplicity" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Decorating" /><title>The Year of Simplicity: Home Goals</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/2690999510594371200/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/year-of-simplicity-home-goals.html#comment-form" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/2690999510594371200?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/2690999510594371200?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/jhQBm1KF6ao/year-of-simplicity-home-goals.html" title="The Year of Simplicity: Home Goals" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6UDrkQn0Gs/Tw2hbdHFqXI/AAAAAAAACQE/W15_6SIBHRA/s72-c/clothesline.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LeJsN-2b4bIt8bEOamc_jzODQnA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LeJsN-2b4bIt8bEOamc_jzODQnA/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/LeJsN-2b4bIt8bEOamc_jzODQnA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LeJsN-2b4bIt8bEOamc_jzODQnA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;




In my quest toward rest and simplicity, I'd like to have less. 

There are lots of way to keep a neat and tidy, organized home. I'm not here to tell you how to do that because I'm really not all that good at it. 

But here's what I do know. For me, a simple home starts with a pared-down home. We live in a smallish house {by American standards} and while smallish spaces have their pros and &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/jhQBm1KF6ao" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/year-of-simplicity-home-goals.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUBSXc_fip7ImA9WhRVGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-7478852577782137677</id><published>2012-01-09T11:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T11:37:38.946-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T11:37:38.946-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Year of Simplicity" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Decorating" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>The Year of Simplicity</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/7478852577782137677/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/year-of-simplicity.html#comment-form" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/7478852577782137677?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/7478852577782137677?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/8txFlOiaspU/year-of-simplicity.html" title="The Year of Simplicity" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vtrvo_8OGS0/TwsYC-LyPkI/AAAAAAAACP8/KvylWhbCX2E/s72-c/elvis.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jWY05AjJraPQPdsC5qsA9cxhT0A/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jWY05AjJraPQPdsC5qsA9cxhT0A/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/jWY05AjJraPQPdsC5qsA9cxhT0A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jWY05AjJraPQPdsC5qsA9cxhT0A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

I know. This is SO not a picture of simplicity. It is quite the opposite. But Elvis and his junky flea market entourage were just begging to make a cameo in the post.  


I love the idea of resolutions. A new year provides the perfect opportunity for start-overs, makeovers, and do-overs. Whether you're a resolution-ish person or not, I think most of us crave an invitation to embark on an &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/8txFlOiaspU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/year-of-simplicity.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAHQHc8cSp7ImA9WhRWFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-6845977542402964529</id><published>2012-01-02T09:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T10:38:51.979-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-02T10:38:51.979-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>The Year of Being Knit</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/6845977542402964529/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/year-of-being-knit.html#comment-form" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/6845977542402964529?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/6845977542402964529?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/yoVCAEyrK-k/year-of-being-knit.html" title="The Year of Being Knit" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ExCFbLplJSI/TwG7EbvBNUI/AAAAAAAACP0/qRl9iRXELcU/s72-c/RR.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>9</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mTopEdiLBfuw9s1uVTl8oXjx_Po/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mTopEdiLBfuw9s1uVTl8oXjx_Po/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/mTopEdiLBfuw9s1uVTl8oXjx_Po/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mTopEdiLBfuw9s1uVTl8oXjx_Po/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;



2011 was not my best year. I'm quite happy to see her go. 



It was, in fact, my hardest year. But I never cease to be amazed by beauty's stubbornness, her ability to shine bright and make herself known even through the darkest nights. 



I've learned that life never gets bad enough to shut her down altogether. Beauty, in her many forms, has become my steadfast muse.



Still, there are &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/yoVCAEyrK-k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2012/01/year-of-being-knit.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYNQ3w7fCp7ImA9WhRWE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-1445203012034614245</id><published>2011-12-31T11:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T12:23:12.204-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-31T12:23:12.204-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Writing" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Whatever" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="31 Days of Real" /><title>a la mode: best of 2011</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/1445203012034614245/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/12/la-mode-best-of-2011.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/1445203012034614245?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/1445203012034614245?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/3pzhweYz5RQ/la-mode-best-of-2011.html" title="a la mode: best of 2011" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c7aDf9kKlBU/Tv9DMrO309I/AAAAAAAACPo/BSdTwkInyCI/s72-c/bowling.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QVX5rfgIdao5R3qoyaZwfJSPFbA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QVX5rfgIdao5R3qoyaZwfJSPFbA/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/QVX5rfgIdao5R3qoyaZwfJSPFbA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QVX5rfgIdao5R3qoyaZwfJSPFbA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;




I love watching all the "Best of 2011" vignettes on TV right now, the good, the ridiculous, the worst-dressed. 

Today I took my own trip down memory lane, perusing my blog's 2011 archives. I have a tendency to forget what I write, to forget the lived-out everyday and the lessons learned in the process. 

October's 31 Days of Real series was a huge highlight. Thanks to the Nester for &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/3pzhweYz5RQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/12/la-mode-best-of-2011.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUBQHs5fyp7ImA9WhRWFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-6395478028668852331</id><published>2011-12-28T14:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T09:24:11.527-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-02T09:24:11.527-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Books" /><title>Year-End Reads &amp; Reviews</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/6395478028668852331/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/12/year-end-reads-reviews.html#comment-form" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/6395478028668852331?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/6395478028668852331?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/UrjPR7E7jXo/year-end-reads-reviews.html" title="Year-End Reads &amp; Reviews" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bLQYFYFuCFA/TvtpQb6SCzI/AAAAAAAACPc/B2o8nRvpQqg/s72-c/books.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_UtSB3UHJ8q--cDnvpUhCfDzwwU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_UtSB3UHJ8q--cDnvpUhCfDzwwU/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/_UtSB3UHJ8q--cDnvpUhCfDzwwU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_UtSB3UHJ8q--cDnvpUhCfDzwwU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;


I love a good booklist. I've kept booklists in my right sidebar ever since I started my blog in an effort to keep up with my yearly reads. It's also a lazy way to recommend books to others. When someone asks what I'm reading I can say, Just go to my blog. It's on the right-hand side.

When I saw that the Nester is having a booklist linky, I got way excited. Like her, I believe you can learn a &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/UrjPR7E7jXo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/12/year-end-reads-reviews.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8NQXYyfip7ImA9WhRXF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-8878875932917393258</id><published>2011-12-23T19:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-24T11:41:30.896-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-24T11:41:30.896-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>Being Kept by Christmas</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/8878875932917393258/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/12/being-kept-by-christmas.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/8878875932917393258?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/8878875932917393258?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/KQv1FyQmZkU/being-kept-by-christmas.html" title="Being Kept by Christmas" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-APXZMQumRIM/TvX6EYVmylI/AAAAAAAACPQ/mgBq-pdcYUs/s72-c/gbread+house.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nCnfurQ-5tPRByh6HmMbP-P5SFo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nCnfurQ-5tPRByh6HmMbP-P5SFo/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/nCnfurQ-5tPRByh6HmMbP-P5SFo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nCnfurQ-5tPRByh6HmMbP-P5SFo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;


It's been a mostly tradition-less Christmas season for us. No advent calendar, no Jesse Tree, no marathon cookie-baking sessions or anything like that. I've gotten by with the bare minimum: A simple tree and a garlandy mantle {that sheds}, cake-mix cookies, and store-bought gifts for loved ones. 

The Man and I have nursed sick kids, packed, unpacked, and packed again. We've traveled and &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/KQv1FyQmZkU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/12/being-kept-by-christmas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUABQ3o6fCp7ImA9WhRQF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-2983341990288541462</id><published>2011-12-13T09:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T09:49:12.414-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-13T09:49:12.414-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Whatever" /><title>Tall in a Grande Cup</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/2983341990288541462/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/12/tall-in-grande-cup.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/2983341990288541462?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/2983341990288541462?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/LO9sSDLziJs/tall-in-grande-cup.html" title="Tall in a Grande Cup" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y28f5D2_UAQ/TudlgbssA0I/AAAAAAAACPE/RZxwVTPwdn8/s72-c/starbucks.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MsmKUjqLRgFsI0wuseVYAHG71F8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MsmKUjqLRgFsI0wuseVYAHG71F8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MsmKUjqLRgFsI0wuseVYAHG71F8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MsmKUjqLRgFsI0wuseVYAHG71F8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;


Several mornings a week I haul my butt out of bed while the rest of the house sleeps and run with a friend. It never gets any easier, the getting up part. 

We run and talk, bleary-eyed and cold. And then we stop on our way home for the prize.

Right now my seasonal choice is a steaming cup of Christmas blend, tall in a grande cup, with plenty of room for cream. 

The folks behind the counter &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/LO9sSDLziJs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/12/tall-in-grande-cup.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ABQnszeCp7ImA9WhRQEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-7550541335169068650</id><published>2011-12-05T09:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T11:15:53.580-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-05T11:15:53.580-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Favorite Things" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Whatever" /><title>These Are a Few of My Favorite Things...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/7550541335169068650/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/12/these-are-few-of-my-favorite-things.html#comment-form" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/7550541335169068650?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/7550541335169068650?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/tqMPnBXSF84/these-are-few-of-my-favorite-things.html" title="These Are a Few of My Favorite Things..." /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1S5mSi5Truk/TtzqM1XNHoI/AAAAAAAACO8/GY2XYKRuhcY/s72-c/say+yes.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uLlGUUbUsEhXa7Vg-mUJFCr5uMM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uLlGUUbUsEhXa7Vg-mUJFCr5uMM/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/uLlGUUbUsEhXa7Vg-mUJFCr5uMM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uLlGUUbUsEhXa7Vg-mUJFCr5uMM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

Say Yes to Carrots Body Butter: My FAVORITE favorite thing



I'd hoped to do a favorite things post during my 31 Days of Real series but it got pushed to the margins. Apparently I had more pressing things to dish about. 


But I LOVE with all my heart to talk about favorite things with my girlfriends. LOVE. Last week the Nester posted a linky party and though I'm way late, I'm joining in &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/tqMPnBXSF84" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/12/these-are-few-of-my-favorite-things.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YHQXs-eip7ImA9WhRRFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-1034954994322560663</id><published>2011-11-29T09:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T10:38:50.552-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-29T10:38:50.552-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Whatever" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><title>Jetta</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/1034954994322560663/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/11/jetta.html#comment-form" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/1034954994322560663?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/1034954994322560663?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/G2YFPlwXoEQ/jetta.html" title="Jetta" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GppInnheObc/TtT5zoOLjoI/AAAAAAAACN0/LjNCGYqCIIg/s72-c/Jetta.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>10</thr:total><content type="html">
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b0jV1wvQGXMlt-L0DHWq_bJnMJw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b0jV1wvQGXMlt-L0DHWq_bJnMJw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;


                                   

I don't remember when the prayers began but once they did, they never ceased. Neither did the questions. 

Mommy, when? 

Have you talked to Daddy any more? 

Do you think it will be before my next birthday? 

How much is a fence? I can save up and pay for it. 

How much are shots? You can take it out of my money. 

For years this child has begged for a dog&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/G2YFPlwXoEQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/11/jetta.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4ER38yeCp7ImA9WhRSGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-5677408565451713428</id><published>2011-11-21T07:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T11:45:06.190-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-21T11:45:06.190-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>Real Gratitude</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/5677408565451713428/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/11/real-gratitude.html#comment-form" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/5677408565451713428?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/5677408565451713428?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/NNEcG9GnjWM/real-gratitude.html" title="Real Gratitude" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-svEoMCV8MVw/TspoeAVQ8qI/AAAAAAAACNc/VoEl6_pwciU/s72-c/wreath.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BFL-o_89KLKZvL1jR6QqKV7ppb0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BFL-o_89KLKZvL1jR6QqKV7ppb0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BFL-o_89KLKZvL1jR6QqKV7ppb0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BFL-o_89KLKZvL1jR6QqKV7ppb0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;





It feels strange and good to write here again after an unexpected "blog-attical." The truth is, I was weary in both body and soul. I had things to say and share but no "oomph" to get to the keyboard and scrawl something out. And that's been just fine. After all, I wrote for 31 days straight last month and that left me a wee bit drained.



Like everyone else, I'm thinking about gratitude &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/NNEcG9GnjWM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/11/real-gratitude.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcFSXk_eyp7ImA9WhRTF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-6311996862323722079</id><published>2011-11-08T06:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T06:00:18.743-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-08T06:00:18.743-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>Basic Needs</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/6311996862323722079/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/11/basic-needs.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/6311996862323722079?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/6311996862323722079?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/MgfWQXih-w0/basic-needs.html" title="Basic Needs" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-htZLhz-5rl0/TrivU57jBMI/AAAAAAAACNM/xaR_YdGutRo/s72-c/apples.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vxW5yRLDf-tx-mgghexcYKEupew/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vxW5yRLDf-tx-mgghexcYKEupew/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/vxW5yRLDf-tx-mgghexcYKEupew/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vxW5yRLDf-tx-mgghexcYKEupew/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;


A new week begins whether we're ready or not.

Today was one of those mornings when I surveyed the disarray, examined the undone, inventoried the chaos and wanted to give up before I even began. 

I walked up the driveway after an early-morning run and noticed all the trash in my yard. Trash. In my yard.

Popsicle wrappers, plastic cups, and unidentifiable plastic shards.

I complain. My &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/MgfWQXih-w0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/11/basic-needs.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYNQn47cSp7ImA9WhRSGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-3316829709961328621</id><published>2011-11-04T11:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T10:09:53.009-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-21T10:09:53.009-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>God in a Waiting Room</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/3316829709961328621/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/11/god-in-waiting-room.html#comment-form" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/3316829709961328621?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/3316829709961328621?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/oGFszkK8Y_0/god-in-waiting-room.html" title="God in a Waiting Room" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cS3VhIJPNmc/TrP7cr41JRI/AAAAAAAACKg/bQHv6Hnt_sY/s72-c/naomi.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><content type="html">
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CNhxNAX2TPjpBky-64f3ysTRntA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CNhxNAX2TPjpBky-64f3ysTRntA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;





I spent yesterday in a waiting room. 



My 3-month-old niece underwent open-heart surgery and I drove up for the day to wait alongside her parents. 



It's hard to explain the emotion that hangs heavy throughout the rooms and hallways of a children's hospital. It is a place of hope and heartache, twin, invisible threads inextricably woven together into one cord. 



I found myself &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/oGFszkK8Y_0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/11/god-in-waiting-room.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMGRnkzeip7ImA9WhRVGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-3654733160468000791</id><published>2011-10-31T11:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T11:40:27.782-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T11:40:27.782-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="31 Days of Real" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>{Day 31} Why Real?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/3654733160468000791/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-31-why-real.html#comment-form" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/3654733160468000791?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/3654733160468000791?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/nz-2DLSqD6k/day-31-why-real.html" title="{Day 31} Why Real?" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D-2OQ5b_0Fo/Tq64bxYCftI/AAAAAAAACKQ/CPWKze6ehFM/s72-c/me.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>9</thr:total><content type="html">
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LVwnOn3SAQS5U10MJ3dU6U97aNY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LVwnOn3SAQS5U10MJ3dU6U97aNY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;


For 31 days I've spilled words onto a screen and hoped for the best. It's been a terrifying and wonderful experience. And now I'm exhausted and still a bit terrified because for better or for worse, what's written is now written. 

It's out there for the world to see. {Small world though mine is.}

Writing real is risky. There's no two ways about it. So many of my life's story-lines--whether &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/nz-2DLSqD6k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-31-why-real.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEHRXw9cSp7ImA9WhRTEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-8171442066107344519</id><published>2011-10-30T14:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-31T10:50:34.269-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-31T10:50:34.269-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marriage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="31 Days of Real" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>{Day 30} Real Marriage Part 7: Choose Life, Even When It's Falling Apart</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/8171442066107344519/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-30-real-marriage-6-choose-life-even.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/8171442066107344519?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/8171442066107344519?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/Vwtsyh037rw/day-30-real-marriage-6-choose-life-even.html" title="{Day 30} Real Marriage Part 7: Choose Life, Even When It's Falling Apart" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9OypTHIhn7E/Tq2ZiiuLShI/AAAAAAAACKI/iNlOEvQgqGo/s72-c/bench.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">
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When difficult days come, there are often no easy answers or quick solutions. It's natural to want to delay real living until things are looking up. I mean, really, how does one go on living and find any joy in the midst of such difficulty? 



As we've gone through trials in our marriage, I haven't been all Pollyanna about things. Really, there has been a good deal of mopeyness. 



But &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/Vwtsyh037rw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-30-real-marriage-6-choose-life-even.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEFQ3Y9eCp7ImA9WhRTEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-5465423379400935445</id><published>2011-10-29T06:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-31T10:50:12.860-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-31T10:50:12.860-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marriage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="31 Days of Real" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>{Day 29} Real Marriage Part 6: Get Back to Dreaming</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/5465423379400935445/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-29-real-marriage-part-5-get-back-to.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/5465423379400935445?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/5465423379400935445?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/DM8_RP4v_xA/day-29-real-marriage-part-5-get-back-to.html" title="{Day 29} Real Marriage Part 6: Get Back to Dreaming" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QC_bs2khkHU/Tqt-vVcQCPI/AAAAAAAACJ4/XWfAaGpWqZU/s72-c/al.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DoD1WxM1jy8hbw1mIa4paPNTnPU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DoD1WxM1jy8hbw1mIa4paPNTnPU/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/DoD1WxM1jy8hbw1mIa4paPNTnPU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DoD1WxM1jy8hbw1mIa4paPNTnPU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;















What are your dreams? 



That's what he asked me on a cold, crisp, starry night 18 years ago. We were in Colorado for cross-country camp, a two-week trip where we trained in high altitudes and ran up the sides of mountains. We'd been friends for two years already but that night, teetering on the edge in so many ways, we ventured into something more. 



We shared our dreams under&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/DM8_RP4v_xA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-29-real-marriage-part-5-get-back-to.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEINRnw6cCp7ImA9WhRTEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-1540612909684154828</id><published>2011-10-28T08:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-31T10:49:57.218-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-31T10:49:57.218-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marriage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="31 Days of Real" /><title>{Day 28} Real Marriage Part 5: Laugh It Up</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/1540612909684154828/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-28-real-marriage-part-4-laugh-it-up.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/1540612909684154828?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/1540612909684154828?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/U3vJ0j_91dw/day-28-real-marriage-part-4-laugh-it-up.html" title="{Day 28} Real Marriage Part 5: Laugh It Up" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lMdqtNuaJ8M/TqqjUUZ8DMI/AAAAAAAACJo/-QFnUWclx2o/s72-c/funny+miles.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nFOQQm2fg_hQ7pdSh5XmfyuuxAs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nFOQQm2fg_hQ7pdSh5XmfyuuxAs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
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I got my funny back. 

That was one of the ways I knew my marriage was healing from the deepest-down place and that change was happening from the inside-out. 

I've always been the crazy one. {Which is ironic because I tend to take myself much too seriously.}

My friends always knew I'd pick "dare" over "truth," the more ridiculous the better. 

My senior year of high school, several of my &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/U3vJ0j_91dw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-28-real-marriage-part-4-laugh-it-up.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQGQXgzfip7ImA9WhdaF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-7988573517279477288</id><published>2011-10-27T07:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T11:12:00.686-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-27T11:12:00.686-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marriage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="31 Days of Real" /><title>{Day 27} Real Marriage Part 4: The Myth of Quality Time</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/7988573517279477288/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-27-real-marriage-part-4-myth-of.html#comment-form" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/7988573517279477288?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/7988573517279477288?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/fNmz02x7F7M/day-27-real-marriage-part-4-myth-of.html" title="{Day 27} Real Marriage Part 4: The Myth of Quality Time" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e07Szaj4u6E/TqjLNK3UG5I/AAAAAAAACJg/HuJ1DtErrjA/s72-c/us.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>8</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/38fDeRu5or30JTf3z0bspVC1Fuw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/38fDeRu5or30JTf3z0bspVC1Fuw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
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I was not one of those girls who went to college to get her Mrs. Degree. I went to get my actual degrees and it just so happened that I met Mr. along the way. 

It was fine with me if marriage and children didn't come until later, but love hit us like a freight train and we married the summer after college. We didn't try to slow it down or delay life together. We said our I do's and jumped &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/fNmz02x7F7M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-27-real-marriage-part-4-myth-of.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MDQ34-eCp7ImA9WhdaFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-3114353746310778725</id><published>2011-10-26T09:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T09:24:32.050-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-26T09:24:32.050-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marriage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="31 Days of Real" /><title>{Day 26} Real Marriage Part 3: On Little Things</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/3114353746310778725/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-26-real-marriage-part-3-on-little.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/3114353746310778725?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/3114353746310778725?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/WAnoZk-7bnw/day-26-real-marriage-part-3-on-little.html" title="{Day 26} Real Marriage Part 3: On Little Things" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4Yl-wUKXvis/TqgIdb_R2DI/AAAAAAAACJY/G3ijPdFj_fs/s72-c/collage.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><content type="html">
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I made collages for him. Yes I did. 

Bits of typeface, paper hearts, glitter and photos. It was painstaking but it didn't feel that way...a labor of love that only scratched the surface of the overwhelming everything for this guy who made my heart pound and gallop like a racehorse. 

My love poured out freely and lavishly in the form of words, affection, sacrifice and wild, unabashed joy. 

I&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/WAnoZk-7bnw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-26-real-marriage-part-3-on-little.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04EQ3s4fSp7ImA9WhdaFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-5294316597054621201</id><published>2011-10-25T08:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T08:31:42.535-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-25T08:31:42.535-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marriage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="31 Days of Real" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>{Day 25} Real Marriage Part 2: When You're Struggling</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/5294316597054621201/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-25-real-marriage-part-2-when-youre.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/5294316597054621201?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/5294316597054621201?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/PQOcpou4F7c/day-25-real-marriage-part-2-when-youre.html" title="{Day 25} Real Marriage Part 2: When You're Struggling" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vSlD718qFZI/TqaqDsrl55I/AAAAAAAACJQ/Keumik_oF8w/s72-c/trees.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">
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Perhaps marriage is a real struggle today, harder than you thought it would be. 

Perhaps it feels impossible. 

Perhaps you know that there are issues, real problems. But you feel like you just don't have the emotional energy right now to work on things in a way that's really going to make a difference. So you wait. You ignore. You minimize or rationalize. 

But do you know what? All of that &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/PQOcpou4F7c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-25-real-marriage-part-2-when-youre.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08EQHw5eip7ImA9WhdaFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-919435870332322681</id><published>2011-10-24T06:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T08:30:01.222-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-25T08:30:01.222-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marriage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="31 Days of Real" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>{Day 24} Real Marriage Part 1: Am I Really Doing This?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/919435870332322681/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-24-real-marriage-part-1-am-i-really.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/919435870332322681?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/919435870332322681?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/0k4ie_xSZjA/day-24-real-marriage-part-1-am-i-really.html" title="{Day 24} Real Marriage Part 1: Am I Really Doing This?" /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i7L7h-Gut98/TqSyeTzcp9I/AAAAAAAACJI/DxEXR-ySOfU/s72-c/gate.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qLO7i3wpw5kKAssHIDRQhLyv03E/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qLO7i3wpw5kKAssHIDRQhLyv03E/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
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I've swung like a pendulum over how to start this series of posts on "Real Marriage." 

A sane and rational person wouldn't dare write about something as sacred and monumental as marriage without having an armload of thoughtful conclusions and expert advice. 

Apparently I am neither sane nor rational. And I'm definitely not an expert.

I am simply a real girl-turned-woman who met the love of &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/0k4ie_xSZjA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-24-real-marriage-part-1-am-i-really.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQDR3s5cSp7ImA9WhdaE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1540171404871181369.post-6521294516583359192</id><published>2011-10-23T12:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T12:46:16.529-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-23T12:46:16.529-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marriage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Writing" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="31 Days of Real" /><title>{Day 23} And on the 23rd day, she rested. Really.</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/feeds/6521294516583359192/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-23-and-on-23rd-day-she-rested.html#comment-form" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/6521294516583359192?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1540171404871181369/posts/default/6521294516583359192?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~3/6vunjXrri0Q/day-23-and-on-23rd-day-she-rested.html" title="{Day 23} And on the 23rd day, she rested. Really." /><author><name>Scooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13200593501887901812</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CqhZcnLBY-o/SJtC8HXsJZI/AAAAAAAAAVA/Pg1Xc2JJQt4/s1600-R/M%2B%2540%2Bpatisserie%2Bcropped.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SybXwJ0AibY/TqRELcq9dRI/AAAAAAAACJA/GnVuP3FDrTo/s72-c/hydrangea.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">
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I had several things I've tried to write about for today. None of them feel right. They feel contrived and detached and I don't want to write fake for a series that's all about real.

So today I'm telling you that I'm tired and full of trepidation. It's day 23 of a 31-day series and while I'm on the "home stretch," I feel that the real work is still in front of me.

I'm planning to write for &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ekfrD/~4/6vunjXrri0Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://missalamode.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-23-and-on-23rd-day-she-rested.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

