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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAFSHo_fCp7ImA9WhRaEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809</id><updated>2012-02-13T10:25:19.444-05:00</updated><category term="hobbies" /><category term="journals" /><category term="Friday Funnies" /><category term="Short Stories" /><category term="workshops" /><category term="cat tales" /><category term="Milk and cookies 3.0" /><category term="quarterly assessment" /><category term="basketball" /><category term="movies" /><category term="workday" /><category term="40 of 40" 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songs" /><category term="general" /><category term="story week" /><category term="monday ramblings" /><category term="day off" /><category term="LadyLee's 40th birthday" /><category term="Tags" /><category term="Politics" /><category term="the weekend" /><category term="gifts" /><category term="40 in 40" /><category term="favorite beats" /><category term="chemistry week" /><category term="new year" /><category term="who are you?" /><category term="the Wrap-ups" /><category term="week in review." /><category term="birthday posts" /><category term="poli" /><category term="The Randomness" /><category term="Ladytee" /><category term="post 1000" /><category term="strange fruits" /><category term="wedding pictures" /><category term="favorite bloggers" /><category term="friends" /><category term="shoes" /><category term="monday randomness" /><category term="vacation pictures" /><category term="natural hair" /><category term="book reviews" /><category term="meme" /><category term="writing prompts" /><category term="monday morning randomness" /><category term="workplace funnies" /><category term="the randomness on monday" /><category term="favorites" /><category term="congrats" /><category term="vacation" /><category term="House of LadyLee mascots" /><category term="freedom fighters" /><category term="food posts" /><category term="Personal Isshas" /><category term="videos" /><category term="music" /><category term="goals" /><category term="Saturday 7" /><category term="writing group" /><category term="birthday gifts" /><category term="Oscar-Tyrone" /><category term="peanut gallery" /><category term="birthday run-down" /><category term="new year." /><category term="nephew" /><category term="Monday morning" /><category term="friendship" /><category term="wordless wednesdays" /><category term="goals finances" /><category term="funny stuff" /><category term="favvorite gifts" /><category term="entertainment" /><category term="gardening" /><category term="favorite singers" /><category term="poetry" /><category term="Adventures" /><category term="vegetarian" /><category term="retro Christmas" /><category term="food fo thought" /><category term="Darth Sista" /><category term="smile box" /><category term="vote" /><category term="thankful thursdays" /><category term="kentucky" /><category term="crazy convos" /><category term="President Obama" /><category term="cards" /><category term="writing" /><category term="book giveaway" /><category term="tributes" /><title>The House of Ladylee</title><subtitle type="html">Year FORTY-ONE, SON!!!!!</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1267</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/nafK" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/nafk" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:browserFriendly></feedburner:browserFriendly><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YFRHwzcCp7ImA9WhRaEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-4693239670131021050</id><published>2012-02-13T08:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-13T08:18:35.288-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-13T08:18:35.288-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="monday randomness" /><title>Monday, Monday...</title><content type="html">Man oh man...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you as shocked as I am?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3mUZ_YrNHJY/TzkJyE2UFmI/AAAAAAAAIHc/zFsqo3F0fQc/s1600/WHou4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708604758568474210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3mUZ_YrNHJY/TzkJyE2UFmI/AAAAAAAAIHc/zFsqo3F0fQc/s400/WHou4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This goes down as one of the moments where we will be asking "Where were you when you heard about Whitney Houston's death? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I STILL remember where I was when I Marvin Gaye died. Me and LadyTee were in the backseat of my mama and step father's car, rolling down Old National Highway. Me and LadyTee bust out crying. I will NEVER forget that. And we were around 14 and 15 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now we add Whitney to that list. I will remember where I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was out running errands. And I was in Little Cesars, getting some Crazy Bread. And they were saying someone had died. And this chick had to go sit down and call somebody. And I'm standing there thinking "She getting all emotional over Don Corneilius death? She just not hearing about it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I went back out to my car, where I had left my phone, and there were text messages saying that Whitney Houston had died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man. I cannot believe it. Whitney's first album came out when I was in high school! That was over 25 years ago! Man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course people jump to all kinds of conclusions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only conclusion I jump to: thank goodness my life isn't in the spotlight. Thank goodness for that. The money and fame is great, but... you know how I am. No politics and no music fame. Please and thank you. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;What a productive career she had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vv2px6Wl1-Q/TzkJxwyVN9I/AAAAAAAAIHQ/DRPGCfES4YQ/s1600/WHou5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708604753183061970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vv2px6Wl1-Q/TzkJxwyVN9I/AAAAAAAAIHQ/DRPGCfES4YQ/s400/WHou5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace, Whitney. You were one of the best true singers of all time. You truly were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has put a major damper on some good news for myself this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here you go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NEDgySwaIlY/TzkIh8PVneI/AAAAAAAAIHE/JFxBleWG-Y4/s1600/DSCF2662.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708603381867978210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NEDgySwaIlY/TzkIh8PVneI/AAAAAAAAIHE/JFxBleWG-Y4/s400/DSCF2662.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(((((BoooYaaaaaah)))))&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-4693239670131021050?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/4693239670131021050/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=4693239670131021050&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/4693239670131021050?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/4693239670131021050?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/02/monday-monday.html" title="Monday, Monday..." /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3mUZ_YrNHJY/TzkJyE2UFmI/AAAAAAAAIHc/zFsqo3F0fQc/s72-c/WHou4.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUABSH07cCp7ImA9WhRaEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-3444678221328352223</id><published>2012-02-12T05:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T05:49:19.308-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-12T05:49:19.308-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memorials" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Whitney Houston&lt;br /&gt;August 9, 1963-February 11, 2012&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SVymKLMt4Is/TzeOyTUPVbI/AAAAAAAAIGg/7Sk_xg0jTLI/s1600/WHou1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 392px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708188047545161138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SVymKLMt4Is/TzeOyTUPVbI/AAAAAAAAIGg/7Sk_xg0jTLI/s400/WHou1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qs4frPXOd0s/TzeOzXVmpjI/AAAAAAAAIG4/7BXHPZLhR-c/s1600/WHou2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708188065804494386" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qs4frPXOd0s/TzeOzXVmpjI/AAAAAAAAIG4/7BXHPZLhR-c/s400/WHou2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GD4BPN57xY8/TzeOyvueyAI/AAAAAAAAIGs/ceCmjYbI-cM/s1600/WHou3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 382px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708188055171418114" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GD4BPN57xY8/TzeOyvueyAI/AAAAAAAAIGs/ceCmjYbI-cM/s400/WHou3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-3444678221328352223?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/3444678221328352223/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=3444678221328352223&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/3444678221328352223?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/3444678221328352223?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/02/rip-whitney-houston.html" title="" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SVymKLMt4Is/TzeOyTUPVbI/AAAAAAAAIGg/7Sk_xg0jTLI/s72-c/WHou1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UGSHo5fCp7ImA9WhRbGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-8610390091201142923</id><published>2012-02-09T14:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T14:20:29.424-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-09T14:20:29.424-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vegetarian" /><title>A Chickpea Tale!</title><content type="html">&lt;em&gt;So... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been experimenting with chickpeas lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say that in the past, I have liked them at times, and at other times I haven't. For some reason the aftertaste was bothering me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is, until my coworker, who recently went vegetarian, began bringing in little disposable gladware containers of some of her curry dishes containing chickpeas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and man oh man were they tasty. No strange aftertaste or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They're easy to cook, LadyLee," she said, her eyes wide with excitement. "You just have to rinse them really well. They're good, and they keep you full!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I trust what she says. Her and her husband know they be researching their dishes pretty hard. She KNOWS what she's talking about! And it's all soooooo good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I tried them out. I bought some canned ones at the store, rinsed them good and used them. No strange aftertaste!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can buy them raw and cook them, LadyLee," she said. Just soak them overnight, rinse them good, and cook them for about an hour. And you can store them in the fridge for a couple of weeks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sounded even better. And cheaper. And you know me. Don't bother me one bit to have something cooking on the stove and do something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I tried this. Here's my raw chickpeas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MX7IXJ9cjKk/TzM1JLJqVpI/AAAAAAAAIGI/pp0FtNwG_1I/s1600/DSCF2648.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706963584536958610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MX7IXJ9cjKk/TzM1JLJqVpI/AAAAAAAAIGI/pp0FtNwG_1I/s400/DSCF2648.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; For some bizarre reason, I got a notion to try to bite into one of these. They are hard as rocks. Almost broke a tooth on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I soaked them overnight. They swell up to twice their size.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hw6_A5YHEYY/TzM1IrwyaxI/AAAAAAAAIGA/ZvemsEpebec/s1600/DSCF2649.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706963576111131410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hw6_A5YHEYY/TzM1IrwyaxI/AAAAAAAAIGA/ZvemsEpebec/s400/DSCF2649.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This always amazes me. It brings out my scientific side. I was asking myself the question, what is the rate of absorption of water per minute?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kp-T9YDtUQI/TzM1IEGGGoI/AAAAAAAAIFw/45YADmRPgGQ/s1600/DSCF2651.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706963565463083650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kp-T9YDtUQI/TzM1IEGGGoI/AAAAAAAAIFw/45YADmRPgGQ/s400/DSCF2651.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hmmm... I don't know the answer, and like you, I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cooked my chickpeas and added a few of them to some stirfried vegetables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-igSCtiHi3fE/TzM2y2ay7GI/AAAAAAAAIGU/-_uW2zNnahg/s1600/chickpea1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706965400037813346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-igSCtiHi3fE/TzM2y2ay7GI/AAAAAAAAIGU/-_uW2zNnahg/s400/chickpea1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span&gt;Talk about something GOOD! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady Lifetime knows what she's talking about!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yo LadyLifetime! Those chickpeas were the bomb!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I told you, girl," she said. "They are good!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You got that right. Really though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glad I learned something new, something I can add to my veggie library!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-8610390091201142923?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/8610390091201142923/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=8610390091201142923&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/8610390091201142923?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/8610390091201142923?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/02/chickpeas.html" title="A Chickpea Tale!" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MX7IXJ9cjKk/TzM1JLJqVpI/AAAAAAAAIGI/pp0FtNwG_1I/s72-c/DSCF2648.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUINRnw9fyp7ImA9WhRbFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-7402012977665074719</id><published>2012-02-07T11:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T11:53:17.267-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-07T11:53:17.267-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="birthday posts" /><title>***BiRThdAy 42***</title><content type="html">Happy NEW Day to you, Boys and Girls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Happy Birthday to ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yaaaay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's my birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I gotta do it Star Trek style!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;STARDATE&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;02.07.12&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;The 42nd year of that Oldgirl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it is really the beginning of the 43rd year. But we won't get bogged down in semantics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to do a Food-for-thought Introspection today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NERP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flipping back through 20 pages of my journal... uh, no. We gonna keep ALL dat right there. Let this be a FUN day!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*cartwheels*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my Birthday Pie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JrbWfzFPsNE/TzFEKKVwNVI/AAAAAAAAIEo/997uYbR7dnI/s1600/brith5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706417144220104018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JrbWfzFPsNE/TzFEKKVwNVI/AAAAAAAAIEo/997uYbR7dnI/s400/brith5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peach pie! (Cuz I ain't the biggest fan of cake)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I got my Birthday Flowers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YMszV6jbx8o/TzFC8XeEjwI/AAAAAAAAID4/A7FY79vSEvw/s1600/birth1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706415807714856706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YMszV6jbx8o/TzFC8XeEjwI/AAAAAAAAID4/A7FY79vSEvw/s400/birth1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't have a vase, so I put them in a Bell Mason Jar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qw5U95gn2JY/TzFC_3NAiZI/AAAAAAAAIEQ/7ajI9vgspyg/s1600/birth3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706415867772832146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qw5U95gn2JY/TzFC_3NAiZI/AAAAAAAAIEQ/7ajI9vgspyg/s400/birth3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0y57ys9QAc4/TzFC90nKCcI/AAAAAAAAIEI/r2mXqZhorkw/s1600/birth2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(How you like that, Lisa B? I got some Celie in me, just like ya'll, babes!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got the Birthday Candle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jpmFi-NNjek/TzFDADB6ULI/AAAAAAAAIEg/oNY3IlVgDbQ/s1600/birth4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706415870947512498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jpmFi-NNjek/TzFDADB6ULI/AAAAAAAAIEg/oNY3IlVgDbQ/s400/birth4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Courtesy of my new friend in my head, "Lady Lifetime" is what I'll call her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Birthday Cat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-080Y_8KQ-0s/TzFEKXAwmnI/AAAAAAAAIE0/gDX4EZ_Os74/s1600/birth6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706417147621710450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-080Y_8KQ-0s/TzFEKXAwmnI/AAAAAAAAIE0/gDX4EZ_Os74/s400/birth6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*crickets*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, Oscar don't count. He was trying to keep me from journalling. He will be 15 this year. Such a typical teenager. Humph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birhtday CAR, boo! The Birthday Car!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xBmBU4Mqqok/TzFI2kmL_fI/AAAAAAAAIFY/03M5pM3CTZ8/s1600/lexus52.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706422305229110770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xBmBU4Mqqok/TzFI2kmL_fI/AAAAAAAAIFY/03M5pM3CTZ8/s400/lexus52.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wooooooooo oooooh WEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not just yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just scrawling the vision HIGH upon the walls of The House of LadyLee. That is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my trusty little 25 cent purse size notebook labeled Lexus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JWSPxU-kDRY/TzFPzPKa4vI/AAAAAAAAIFo/lu4Po1-_awU/s1600/birth7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706429944517288690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JWSPxU-kDRY/TzFPzPKa4vI/AAAAAAAAIFo/lu4Po1-_awU/s400/birth7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody who's known me for awhile knows...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I get that little notebook going?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And start filling those thin ruled lines with stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a done deal, boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's like a personal claim ticket, and I am standing at the window, waiting for the folks to come back with my stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Already got my insurance quotes written up in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and LadyTee did a driveby in the dealership lot of one I'm interested in. We roled up real slow, stealth like, like we were bout to pull out our .38s and blast some fools!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There it go, right there, Tee. Right there. The gold one. The coach edition. Full leather package. Sunroof. All the extras. There it go right there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*lee slows Mazda to a stop*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*lee looks both ways for shady salesman*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*lee jumps out of car and cups hands to window and looks inside*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*lee cheeses hard at LadyTee, who's craning her neck looking at my undercover ways*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXTRA HARD. Cheesing extra hard! I was cheesing so hard I started sweating! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wanted to lay my body across the hood of that car!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that one... but it has scuffed bumpers. They gonna have to cut that price in half if they want an Oldgirl in it. I don't want anything new, just need an extra car for the garage. I refuse to have a car note. CASH only. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I may have to get the cash out the bank, and take it with me when I go test drive these babies. TAKE THIS or I am LEAVING...SHAWTY! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;No I won't do that... But the thought... WOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna go test drive it... make the salesman take a picture of me in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And put THAT in my Lexus notebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah mon!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and something else is brewing right now... but I won't talk about that. Something... interesting. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hmm... Chew on THAT. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeeee! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy New Day to Yoooooooouuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Cartwheels*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-7402012977665074719?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/7402012977665074719/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=7402012977665074719&amp;isPopup=true" title="15 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/7402012977665074719?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/7402012977665074719?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/02/birthday-42.html" title="***BiRThdAy 42***" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JrbWfzFPsNE/TzFEKKVwNVI/AAAAAAAAIEo/997uYbR7dnI/s72-c/brith5.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UHSXo4cCp7ImA9WhRbFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-5080822551577460788</id><published>2012-02-06T09:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T09:40:38.438-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-06T09:40:38.438-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="monday ramblings" /><title>The Last Day. Of the 41st Year. In the Life of Your Friendly Neighborhood Oldgirl LadyLee</title><content type="html">It is Monday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Monday Before...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That Monday Before I turn 42.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been walking around the house hollering &lt;em&gt;"It is the last day of the 41st year of my life!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Last Day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the 41st year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Life of your Friendly Neighborhood LadyLee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I pondered this, while folding clothes, cleaning the bathroom, and gathering trash to take out later on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh what a great year it has been. Simply terrific.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write about that tomorrow. Not sure whether I will do an introspection post tomorrow. I would love to. But I have so much to write. I promise to condense and keep it short if I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am OFF today. I sort of am at odds with that because I have a ton of paperwork on my desk. But the truth of the matter is that that is not my problem. I've been working hard. And I don't work on my birthday. Period. And I wanted to at least take my birthday and the day before off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you will not believe this, but I worked on Saturday! From 11:00 am to 2:45pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Members of management were there. O_o. Odd. Interesting, but odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was my church's 26th anniversary. I rarely go to church on Sunday, but I figured, what the heck. And it was a good kickoff to my birthday holiday. Church anniversary is actually on my birthday, February 7th. So it is REALLY easy to remember the date, LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karen Clark-Sheard was a special guest. That woman know she can SANG! I have NEVER heard anyone sing so loud and clear, and she wasn't even singing. There was a program on Friday night for my pastor's 50th birthday and 30 years of ministering, and she and the rest of the Clark sisters were there, performing all the old classics. Now I bet THAT was something to see. WOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was a good service. A south african Pastor who was instrumental in reworking the South African constitution after aparthied was the special guest. VERY interesting to hear someone who was a part of that history speak about life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most interesting thing I heard was: &lt;em&gt;"You find out what you really believe in the midst of trouble, when you go through a few things. Your courage comes from staying focused on Jesus. Looking to yourself only porduces fear."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm.... looking to yourself only produces fear. And I can understand what he means by that. I myself, in the midst of my personal storms, find that I get upset not only about what I am going through, but the sheer magnitude of it all. And then I build these pictures in my mind and I get all exasperated really over the fear that I will never get over this, or this will always be how it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When in actuality, all things are temporary. I'm going through things. But the operative word here is "through". There is a beginning, a middle and an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I need to get focused on a good end. A good solution. A good result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and my sister Kentucky were talking about this yesterday, concerning some of her personal goals. I always like to check on her progress. She says that she's avoiding much exasperation by really focusing on very small goals, and believing to accomplish those. I told her I am too, and that is when I get the most done, and my faith stays strong. We encouraged each other to stay prayerful. That is the core of our focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Play Mama A and I had a long convo about this on Saturday evening: Do you focus on what God says about you, or do you focus on your circumstances...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly, the sermons at our respective churches were on that very subject matter... in great detail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I LOVE that, man!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That happens a lot with us. That's called confirmation. God's stamp on what we were discussing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hey, I welcome that. Reinforces me. Let's me know I'm moving in the right direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's a GOOD thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man... sorry for the food-for-thought moment. Well not really. LOL. That's what's on my mind right now. Especially since this is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the 41st year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the life of your friendly Neighborhood Oldgirl, LadyLee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what all I'm doing on this off day. I'm going down to the Southside and snatch up LadyTee and we want to go see the movie Albert Nobbs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CjMJoc7Qb5k/Ty_dmDoyRHI/AAAAAAAAIDs/WhEJUPgqwJo/s1600/nobbs1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706022898782848114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CjMJoc7Qb5k/Ty_dmDoyRHI/AAAAAAAAIDs/WhEJUPgqwJo/s400/nobbs1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at Glenn Close. They got her looking like a dude, straight up. She is up for an Oscar for this part. I hope she win. We are going to try and go see this movie. It's an arthouse movie, so it's only playing in a couple of theatres in the city. So we are going to try to track it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is all for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a song of the week. On this day, the last day of my 41st year, I need a good song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my favorite song to listen to before I leave for work in the mornings. You know, while I'm looking for my keys, and getting my lunch and bags together to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="315" width="420"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/q87_WJKjVN4?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/q87_WJKjVN4?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a good song. I feel alright after I listen to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tend to holler &lt;em&gt;"See you later, Oscar-Tyrone! You have a fine fine time patrolling this house today! Glory! Bye, boy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Oscar meows. And walks off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have a great day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On purpose!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-5080822551577460788?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/5080822551577460788/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=5080822551577460788&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/5080822551577460788?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/5080822551577460788?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/02/last-day-of-41st-year-in-life-of-your.html" title="The Last Day. Of the 41st Year. In the Life of Your Friendly Neighborhood Oldgirl LadyLee" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CjMJoc7Qb5k/Ty_dmDoyRHI/AAAAAAAAIDs/WhEJUPgqwJo/s72-c/nobbs1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEECSH8-fip7ImA9WhRbEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-3313176620208161963</id><published>2012-02-03T13:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T13:11:09.156-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-03T13:11:09.156-05:00</app:edited><title>Friday Freestyles</title><content type="html">Yes yes yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is Friday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's an extra special Friday for me. I have a 4 DAY WEEKEND coming up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;((((((&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;BOOYAH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;)))))))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes. I cannot wait. This day best not go by all slooooooowwwww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOOOO at that! Boo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, why is it that I wanted to post all week, yet I didn't? The horror! I gotta do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, work is strange right now. There doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day to get things done. My days are going by in a flash. And yes, that is a good thing. It is better than watching the clock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a good annual work performance review. Funny how they like to treat you like you don't work and like you're stupid, but alas, at the end of the year, you did well. It's like some Jedi Mind trick craziness. And you know I don't do well with psychological crap. NERP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what? My sister Kentucky won Teacher of the Year for her school! I am sooo happy for her. I told her beforehand, if she didn't win, that she was MY teacher of the year. I don't care what NOBODY say. She MY teacher of the year. But I am glad she won!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my birthday is coming up. I will be &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;42&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; year old. Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I'm never ashamed to tell my age. And it baffles me when people are. I guess that is just the way it is. For me, with each year of my life, there is new growth and experiences. So I am just always happy to see another birthday. Some people didn't make it to age 2 or even 42. So it is something to be celebrated. I am proud of the age that I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any special plans. I think me and Kentucky will be having dinner on my birthday. Not sure where we are going. And LadyTee and I are spending the day before together. So that's cool. AND as usual, I go get my emissions and tag done. I may go get my taxes done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do something you really like to do on your birthday, girl!" my cubicle mate Cowgirl Cre hollered yesterday. "You know what I would be doing on my birthday. Riding my horse!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I would really like to write all day. And I have a lot of editing to do. I would love that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will be doing a fair amount of that. For sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Song of the Week.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I LOVE this song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="315" width="420"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mx3AD9VmN9k?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mx3AD9VmN9k?version=3&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with that said, you have a great weekend! I know I will!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;On purpose! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-3313176620208161963?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/3313176620208161963/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=3313176620208161963&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/3313176620208161963?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/3313176620208161963?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/02/friday-freestyles.html" title="Friday Freestyles" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8AQH0zfip7ImA9WhRbEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-7820666506462818435</id><published>2012-02-01T22:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T22:20:41.386-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-01T22:20:41.386-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>Food for Thought: Dialects</title><content type="html">I promised you a food-for-thought this week, so I think I will go ahead and work it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This food-for-thought has to do with a strange topic: dialects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime in early January, I came across an interesting verse of scripture that caught my attention and has stayed on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Because it hits very close to home in an area that I work on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am especially interested in the sentence in red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ephesians 5:4 (MESSAGE) Though some tongues just love the taste of gossip, those who follow Jesus have better uses for language than that. Don't talk dirty or silly. That kind of talk doesn't fit our style.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thanksgiving is our dialect.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Thanksgiving is our dialect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dialect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been chewing on that verse for awhile, like a piece of chewing gum, trying to get all I can out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, not being the most learned individual, had to go look up this word dialect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In linguistics, it means a variety of a language that is distinguished from other varieties of the same language by features of phonology, grammar, and vocabulary, and by its use by a group of speakers who are set off from others geographically or socially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, looking at the definition, I can conceivably, make an interesting substitution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thanksgiving&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is a variety of a language that is distinguished from other varieties of the same language by features of phonology, grammar, and vocabulary, and by its use by a group of speakers who are set off from others geographically or socially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is pretty insightful. Well, to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because that verse describes different variations of language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gossipy talk. Dirty talk. Silly talk. And Thanksgiving talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it says those that follow Jesus have better uses for language than talking silly, talking dirty, or gossiping. Much better uses for language than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm going to be straight up. The folks I know who are hard gossipers, talk dirty and talk silly, are mostly Christian folks... these followers of Jesus, as they are referred to in the verse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you are like me, some of them, well, I will hesitate to lay my purse down around. Doggone wallet may get stolen. Shoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had atheists that have been better for my life and personal growth than some Christians. Ought not be that way, but it is. That is a whole nother post altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let's get back to the post topic at hand. I was a mite bit concerned over the whole notion of "silly talk". Exactly what does this "silly talk" mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it means different things for different people. And as I was working on parts of this posts this Sunday, while watching my church services on the internet (I rarely go to church on Sundays. I am a Friday night gal #heathen) an interesting subject came up, and for me, in my own life, it defined the whole notion of "silly talk".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to admit, Complaining is cousin to Ungrateful, which is the direct opposite of Gratitude and Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jotted down some interesting church notes that Sunday morning... Wrote it all down, here it goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;When things don't seem to be going our way, we complain. And we may holler "it's the truth!", but whether it's the truth or not, it is still what it is: "complaining".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Complaining short circuits our faith. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Complaining indirectly communicates to God: "I don't like what You are doing in my life, and if I were You (that is, if I had control) i would do it differently."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;God hates complaining, and it is nothing more than irreverence. It is insubordination to God's authority.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complaining.... sure is some silly talk, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it gets nothing done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard another interesting definition of complaining recently: Complaining is talking about the problem, without talking about the solution to the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a dirty talker. I get a check in my spirit any time I cuss, and I work on that. I'm not a gossiper. I've cut that way down close to zero, and think hard about it when i do it... and make the corrections. I've gotten to the point where I don't too much deal with gossipy folk unless I really have to. You know my issues with gossip: it means I don't like my life, so I gotta get nosy about YOUR life so I can find something about you to talk about... so I can feel better about my own mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Just my definition of it. Not my dialect. Besides, I like my life, with all its good parts and bad parts that are getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you one thing, though. I complain like others. Mostly due to what or who I around. I was speaking with a coworker the other day about this. I admired the fact that she recognizes that she complains and she's going to work on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want this silly talk... this "complaining", to be my dialect either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want thanksgiving to be my dialect. I want to be able to hear my own voice and speech, and be able to tell for myself that I, LadyLee, am a thankful person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do believe that there is no coincidence that thanksgiving is mentioned in that verse, and is something to be strived for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much sprouts out up of gossiping, doesn't it? Much comes out of dirty talk and silly talk also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't the same be said for thanksgiving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something good comes out of being thankful, being a person of gratitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has become a part of my daily confessions, these 4 simple words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thanksgiving is MY dialect&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the language that I speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to look up someday, and see that that is wholly true, that it has come to pass in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will leave you with 2 other scripture that go well with that above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Phillipians 2:14 (AMP) Do all things without grumbling and faultfinding and complaining [against God] and questioning and doubting [among yourselves], That you may show yourselves to be blameless and guiltless, innocent and uncontaminated, children of God without blemish (faultless, unrebukable) in the midst of a crooked and wicked generation [spiritually perverted and perverse], among whom you are seen as bright lights (stars or beacons shining out clearly) in the [dark] world...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;I Thessalonians 5:18 (AMP)Thank [God] in everything [no matter what the circumstances may be, be thankful and give thanks], for this is the will of God for you [who are] in Christ Jesus [the Revealer and Mediator of that will].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Food for thought has been brought to you by your Friednly Neighborhood Oldgirl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the rest of your week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-7820666506462818435?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/7820666506462818435/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=7820666506462818435&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/7820666506462818435?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/7820666506462818435?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/02/food-for-thought-dialects.html" title="Food for Thought: Dialects" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8MQ3g7eyp7ImA9WhRUGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-7245428835680018805</id><published>2012-01-30T21:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T22:01:22.603-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-30T22:01:22.603-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="monday morning randomness" /><title>Monday Night Special</title><content type="html">&lt;em&gt;Monday...Again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not gonna complain. Happy to see a NEW day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy NEW DAY to you. Out with the OLD, in with the NEW. Right now. TODAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something good is going to happen today, even though it's a Monday. Still, a chance for good things to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Wow. I wrote that this morning. Meant to post it this morning. I thought to myself, "Nerp, I will post during lunchtime." I didn't have lunch today because I was so busy. And that's a good thing. Can't get caught blogging while eating my lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That really isn't a good idea. Negroes swear I blog all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that worked out well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas... Monday night special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got off from work tonight and I needed a DRANK. Not a drink. A DRANK. A STRONG DRANK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VSSBtgTTCyo/TydUyodnceI/AAAAAAAAIDg/Qz1J2J5MOgg/s1600/drank1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703620681919853026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VSSBtgTTCyo/TydUyodnceI/AAAAAAAAIDg/Qz1J2J5MOgg/s400/drank1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So I went to the Noodle house across the street from work, sat at the bar, and ordered a strong drank! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Water... on the rocks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And it was good. While I waited on my spicy basil noodle with tofu take-out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry that I haven't been posting everyday. Man oh man, do I have a LOT to post, but things have been quite hectic. Work has been swashbuckling, a real rat race, and I am just trying to adjust to the change of pace. So when I get home, I'm trying to decompress from my day, and spend more time on my personal writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month, it's looking like I will hit 24,000 words written for the month. I've spent a good amount of time working on the second half of a novella, which I believe I will finish tomorrow. Heck, it may even be a full novel. Not sure. I am going to spend a little time today, probably during lunch (if I get a lunch), [update: NO LUNCH TODAY] planning my February writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to next month. BIRTHDAY month! *cartwheels* I will be turning 42 this year. I have been thinking about that, just reflecting over the past year. I have no special plans, even though I decided when I was 40 that I would spend my birthdays out of the country on vacation. I just was not interested this year. I MAY go on a cruise in June (if Green Eyed Bandit get back to me with the info, if it's not too late). But I haven't been all that interested in doing anything. My sister wants to do something but her teacher schedule is pretty rigid, and for some ODD reason that chicken gets a little nervous about spending more than a hundred bucks on a vacation. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my birthday will be quiet. I think me and LadyTee are spending the day together. I have put in for a couple of days off, so we will see if that gets approved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January though... it has been a pretty good month. The highlight for me, as I have said above is really being stringent about my writing. My goal is around 500 words per day, which is a small goal, and takes a good 30 minutes give or take. But I end up taking more than that, sometimes writing upwards of 2000 words. I think I average around 750 words a day. I am VERY happy about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am working on not spending quite so much time thinking about my stories, and spending more time actually writing my stories. And that has been a good transition and it is working out well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing particularly interesting happened this weekend. I had a good conversation with Grandma. They always telling her some craziness down at the bank. This time some idiotic mess concerning the account she has under me. She needs to call me next time and hand them the phone. Take care of that real quick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, don't abuse the elderly. Geesh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was over to her house one day last year, and she had an interesting book on Biblical Gap Theory. I asked her for the title of it so I could order it. She said she has to look for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma has a degree in biblical psychology. She has upwards of 3000 books at her house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know where I put that book, Sugar. I'll find it for you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma is going to be looking for that book for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A VERY long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long. Long. Time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I baked a GANG of cookies on Sunday. I mailed them today. A couple of folk I owe cookies too- Dee in San Diego and the infamous La - ya'll need to text my phone with your address. If you don't have my phone number, you better get it. Which means email me, and I send you my number. I don't worry about you stalking me. I stalk La something terrible, so she's not going to stalk me. And I wouldn't mind a phone convo with Dee, so whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I can't keep up with addresses on the email. Sigh. You better text me! Quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you recently texted your address, your cookies are on the way. They will be there on Wednesday. That is all. (Look out for that ketchup too, Lisa B.!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I passed the funeral procession police car line up for a policewoman who was hit by a drunk driver on the freeway last week, while she was directing traffic around an accident at a highway exit not too far from my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sobered me up. I had a hard week last week, and a strange and tiring day today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But any day I make it home at night... and have to decide whether I want to fold clothes or take out the garbage or clean up the kitchen... or just lazy around on the sofa... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;hat makes it a good day. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It means I made it home tonight. Some people didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That makes it a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't you forget it. I know I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing something like that really takes the "whine" out of one's whining. And rightfully so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's what's on my mind early this monday Morning [UPDATE: Monday night].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look out for a Food-For-Thought post this week. It's something that's been on my mind allll month long. I think you will get something out of it. Changed my way of looking at things this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a GREAT Monday! [UPDATE: have a great WEEK]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On PuRpOSe.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-7245428835680018805?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/7245428835680018805/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=7245428835680018805&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/7245428835680018805?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/7245428835680018805?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/monday-night-special.html" title="Monday Night Special" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VSSBtgTTCyo/TydUyodnceI/AAAAAAAAIDg/Qz1J2J5MOgg/s72-c/drank1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EMSH45fyp7ImA9WhRUFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-8625605493393272027</id><published>2012-01-25T14:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T14:28:09.027-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-25T14:28:09.027-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="favorite people" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="favvorite gifts" /><title>Favorite Gifts, Part I</title><content type="html">I sometimes get interesting cards and gifts in the mail from readers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all makes an Oldgirl smile it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I holler "Look Oscar-Tyrone, someone thought of me today!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Oscar-Tyrone gives a blank stare and walks away with his tail in the air*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silly cat! He don't understand how great that is. I am ALWAYS thankful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I got a text message from my friend in my head, reader and lurker Lisa B. stating &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Good Morning! I have sent a package to you. Be on the lookout for it. Mailed it yesterday evening. Didn't put a note inside but u will know its from me."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which I responded "O_O!!!!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like Lisa B. She's my best friend in my head. She is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was sweeping the kitchen floor one Saturday morning, and the doorbell ring. I almost didn't answer it, thinking it was the Witnesses. But I answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was my friendly neighborhood Mail Lady! With a package for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She handed it to me. I almost dropped it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be careful! It's heavy!" she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*lee cheesing real hard*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I opened the package, and lo and behold, here's what I see:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u-p9hSS-sLQ/Tx8UVAR-dMI/AAAAAAAAIDU/ydlHr3D7gmI/s1600/squas1"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701298004359541954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u-p9hSS-sLQ/Tx8UVAR-dMI/AAAAAAAAIDU/ydlHr3D7gmI/s400/squas1" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*lee passes out on kitchen linoleum*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I didn't pass out. But I do believed I screamed loud enough for the whole block to hear me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see, there was some squash relish, some green tomato relish, and some chow-chow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never had green tomato relish before. You best believe I opened that jar and grabbed a spoon and had myself a taste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is sho nuff something good! Sho NUFF!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there was some chow-chow. That is cabbage relish. I LOVE chow-chow. My great-grandmother use to make it back in the 70s. It took her ALL day, too. I remember sitting in the kitchen watching her do it... and while it cooked, we would go in the bedroom, and watch her "stories" (soap operas).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh the memories. And Lisa B. sent me some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN there was the squash relish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I posted about this awhile back.&lt;a href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2011/07/terrific-thursday-lisa-b-edition.html"&gt; She gave me mason jars of squash relish, pear preserves, and plum jelly. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of it was good. Still working on the jam and jelly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://http//ladylee35.blogspot.com/2011/11/lisa-b-gonna.html"&gt;Ohhhhhh, I made that squash relish last a good long time! &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But alas... I ran out. And I called my sister Kentucky, who found the squash relish recipes on the web, talkinbout how she was going to make some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humph. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave Kentucky some of MY relish way back then. I can still see her putting some in a small gladware container.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I want my disposable container back, Kentucky).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sent Kentucky the above picture of MY relishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I talked to her later, she said "Ooh wee, I'm coming over to get some of that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*crickets*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The hell you say," I said. "You gits none of this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That shut that conversation line down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(But I was not lying. Me and Kentucky gonna FIGHT if she even think she gets a taste of it. Knock out, drag out fight 'til one of us passes out.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Lisa B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks sooooooo much for the relishes. You gonna keep me eating good until next year, hon! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I 'preciate you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look out for a couple of jars of my homemade red bell pepper ketchup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking every since I made those... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I'ma send Lisa B. and Mama Lisa some of my mason jars of ketchup... Show them that even though I am a city gal, I got some Celie in me too!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stay tuned for Favorite gifts, Part II, next week (from BayouCreole Chick Ali)! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-8625605493393272027?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/8625605493393272027/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=8625605493393272027&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/8625605493393272027?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/8625605493393272027?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/favorite-gifts-part-i.html" title="Favorite Gifts, Part I" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u-p9hSS-sLQ/Tx8UVAR-dMI/AAAAAAAAIDU/ydlHr3D7gmI/s72-c/squas1" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIDQXs-eSp7ImA9WhRUE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-8662861973237613322</id><published>2012-01-23T12:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T16:02:50.551-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-23T16:02:50.551-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing group" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing prompts" /><title>I Met Him</title><content type="html">I met him.&lt;br /&gt;I remember him.&lt;br /&gt;I met him, some four years prior to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HnGN0strgoU/Tx2SRKUP6cI/AAAAAAAAIC8/10aTh6J-uHs/s1600/BK_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700873526845630914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HnGN0strgoU/Tx2SRKUP6cI/AAAAAAAAIC8/10aTh6J-uHs/s200/BK_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; At the Burger King,&lt;br /&gt;Yes the Burger King on MLK.&lt;br /&gt;I remember him&lt;br /&gt;Yes I remember him&lt;br /&gt;Because I had never seen a man with eyes so grey.&lt;br /&gt;Not a pretty grey, mind you&lt;br /&gt;But a strange grey&lt;br /&gt;A grey the color of brain matter.&lt;br /&gt;And his name, his name was Isaiah Francis&lt;br /&gt;Or Francis Isaiah&lt;br /&gt;I always forget&lt;br /&gt;All I know, he wanted my number&lt;br /&gt;And I gave him a fake one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Because I got it like that.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I met him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You best believe I met him&lt;br /&gt;And from this day on,&lt;br /&gt;I will never forget,&lt;br /&gt;Because he is on my TV,&lt;br /&gt;On the evening news&lt;br /&gt;Standing there smiling&lt;br /&gt;Holding his 300,000,000 million dollar lottery check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;From Women of Color Writing Group, January 20, 2012... Writing prompts: When: four years prior, Where: burger king, Color: grey the color of brain matter, Who: Isaiah Francis. (blanks filled in by different people in the group&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3HpHl3MmA-w/Tx2TPWfC-yI/AAAAAAAAIDM/R1UwME9KnpM/s1600/prompt_1"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700874595264035618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3HpHl3MmA-w/Tx2TPWfC-yI/AAAAAAAAIDM/R1UwME9KnpM/s400/prompt_1" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-8662861973237613322?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/8662861973237613322/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=8662861973237613322&amp;isPopup=true" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/8662861973237613322?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/8662861973237613322?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-met-him.html" title="I Met Him" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HnGN0strgoU/Tx2SRKUP6cI/AAAAAAAAIC8/10aTh6J-uHs/s72-c/BK_01.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cESXc-cCp7ImA9WhRVGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-346756176862665350</id><published>2012-01-18T18:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T18:23:28.958-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-18T18:23:28.958-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Randomness" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="peanut gallery" /><title>Comments from the Peanut Gallery... The Pageant Edition</title><content type="html">So... you know me and my cubicle mate The Cowgirl Cre will sit back and scrutinize pictures and videos from time to time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's our special Peanut Gallery Time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And once again, we had a prime opportunity to do a little... commenting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down in Alabama, Pageants are a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Cre this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee: They big on them pageants down there in Alabama, girl.&lt;br /&gt;Cowgirl Cre: Really?&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee: The closest we come to a pageant is going to the prom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;a href="http://adrienneslittleworld.typepad.com/a_glimpse_of_me_a_peek_in/"&gt;Play Mama's &lt;/a&gt;girls, they are in the pageants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a Christmas Parade down there a few weeks ago, and let me tell you... there were plenty of pageant queens, from toddler to high school age, riding in convertibles, waving lovingly at the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I harrassed Jae, Play Mama's oldest girl, about this as we sat in our fold out stadium chairs, watching the parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who's that girl, Jae?"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, that's Sue," Jae said. "She's in all the pageants. She won such-n-such Pageant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that conversation went on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simply fascinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes... We have the Bible belt. I do believe they live in the Pageant Belt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the other day, I received some pictures of the oldest girl Jae in her yearly pageant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"CowgirlCre," I said. "Come look at these here pictures."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Cowgirl Cre rolls her chair from the other side of our cubicle*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;And the comments...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the Peanut Gallery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e0_-ybM1rZI/TxczSgopgjI/AAAAAAAAICA/93ImHRtJi-0/s1600/jae1"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699080246551740978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e0_-ybM1rZI/TxczSgopgjI/AAAAAAAAICA/93ImHRtJi-0/s400/jae1" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee: Wow! Look at her! She looks pretty!&lt;br /&gt;Cowgirl Cre: Sure does! Look at her hair!&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee: She 15. But we can get in the club, with NO ID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ladylee texts Play Mama A&lt;/em&gt;: "Tell her she look nice! And we can get in the club... with NO ID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*LadyLee and Cowgirl Cre peer closely at the screen*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladylee sits straight up: Look at them breasts! Sitting straight up! Posture!&lt;br /&gt;Cre: That's a push-up bra! Text her and tell her let me hold that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;LadyLee Texts Play Mama A&lt;/em&gt;: Hey! Cre wanna borrow the push up bra!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mama A Texts LadyLee&lt;/em&gt;: Uh, that's not a push-up bra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cowgirl Cre and LadyLee: WHOOOOOOAA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;LadyLee Texts Play Mama A&lt;/em&gt;: Tell Jae she got more breasesses than me! We must be some kin for real!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qg67glUrZJ0/TxczT2Rr7WI/AAAAAAAAICk/CzGfpOtpFYQ/s1600/jae4"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699080269540879714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qg67glUrZJ0/TxczT2Rr7WI/AAAAAAAAICk/CzGfpOtpFYQ/s400/jae4" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; *LadyLee and Cowgirl Cre peering at the LCD screen closer* &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;Texts PlayMama A: That's a wig. She has on a wig?Play Mama A texts LadyLee back: Um, no that's not a wig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CowgirlCre: Look at the shoes! I'd bust my azz in them shoes! We can get in the club, but they will card me, because I can't walk in the shoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;LOL&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ladylee:&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a1si4us7k64/TxczTlxic-I/AAAAAAAAICY/-9-2VDkcfvM/s1600/jae3"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699080265111073762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a1si4us7k64/TxczTlxic-I/AAAAAAAAICY/-9-2VDkcfvM/s400/jae3" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cowgirl Cre: They out there in the middle of the street. Get the dress up off the ground!&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee: Man, whatever. It's a rented dress. Let it drag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Text from Play Mama A&lt;/em&gt;: She holds it up when she walks.&lt;br /&gt;CowgirlCre: Get the dress up off the ground! They gotta get the deposit back!&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee: Whatever man, let it drag!&lt;br /&gt;CowgirlCre: Or at least get Wallee [their cat] to come hold the dress up off the ground. That way, she can be like Cinderella for real! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;LOL!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;CowgirlCre: Girl, you know if they mess around and tore that dress, Adrienne would be in there trying to sew and tape it up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Zooming in on dress again*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee: They need to take an iron to that dress.&lt;br /&gt;Cowgirl Cre: But it's got sequins!&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee: They can iron around it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dIT4iDfwbyc/TxczS7uKjHI/AAAAAAAAICQ/qwQuUYlAj1M/s1600/jae2"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699080253822635122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dIT4iDfwbyc/TxczS7uKjHI/AAAAAAAAICQ/qwQuUYlAj1M/s400/jae2" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (With much zooming in and scrutiny, we decide the dress looks just fine. No ironing necessary).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee: Lawd, she don't need to send her boyfriend no picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texts Play Mama A&lt;/em&gt;: Tell Jae don't send no picture to her man. That is all. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mama A Texts back: She already did! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;O_O &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Trouble. Gotta keep that young fella from sniffing around.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Lee takes baseball bat and drives to Alabama and knocks Jae's man upside the head*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;LOL!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been another edition of Comments from the Peanut Gallery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congrats Jae on your&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;2nd place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; finish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you should've gotten first place!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vRcjBI9pp1U/TxdOwE3vUKI/AAAAAAAAICw/hk2lGh8mimY/s1600/jae10.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699110441308868770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vRcjBI9pp1U/TxdOwE3vUKI/AAAAAAAAICw/hk2lGh8mimY/s400/jae10.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll win first place next year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;(for videos and pictures from the pageant, &lt;a href="http://adrienneslittleworld.typepad.com/a_glimpse_of_me_a_peek_in/2012/01/its-pageant-time.html"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-346756176862665350?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/346756176862665350/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=346756176862665350&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/346756176862665350?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/346756176862665350?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/comments-from-peanut-gallery-pageant.html" title="Comments from the Peanut Gallery... The Pageant Edition" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e0_-ybM1rZI/TxczSgopgjI/AAAAAAAAICA/93ImHRtJi-0/s72-c/jae1" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8ESX0_eip7ImA9WhRVGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-3271340402420068016</id><published>2012-01-18T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T00:00:08.342-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-18T00:00:08.342-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="wordless wednesdays" /><title>Wordless Wednesday: My Fridge's Deli Drawer Contains a lot of ____</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LahDetAAhkI/TxY95WMxj1I/AAAAAAAAIB0/YommCCuRt6I/s1600/citrus1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698810433904938834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LahDetAAhkI/TxY95WMxj1I/AAAAAAAAIB0/YommCCuRt6I/s400/citrus1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-3271340402420068016?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/3271340402420068016/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=3271340402420068016&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/3271340402420068016?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/3271340402420068016?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/wordless-wednesday-my-fridges-deli.html" title="Wordless Wednesday: My Fridge's Deli Drawer Contains a lot of ____" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LahDetAAhkI/TxY95WMxj1I/AAAAAAAAIB0/YommCCuRt6I/s72-c/citrus1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUANSHY6eCp7ImA9WhRVF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-1051767157750172154</id><published>2012-01-16T12:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T12:09:59.810-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-16T12:09:59.810-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>Monday Food For Thought: MLK Day.</title><content type="html">&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Special Food for Thought for my friend in my head, reader Lisa B., since she requested more food for thought&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ThZ576StMcw/TxRQ-sEXBFI/AAAAAAAAIBo/HyCcv7sLubw/s1600/MLK_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698268466442077266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 143px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ThZ576StMcw/TxRQ-sEXBFI/AAAAAAAAIBo/HyCcv7sLubw/s200/MLK_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For many of us, it is a day off. I like the whole idea of "Not a day off, but a day on". Uh, I am gonna let that soak in. I ain't there yet. I like the idea. I will get there eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I use it as a day of reflection. A day where I go and read and ponder black history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I ponder my own family and our history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of the King Holiday, I think of my Grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because she is the same age as he would've been this day. She was born on January 14, 1929. Dr. King was born on Janurary 15, 1929.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's just say I always remember her birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is an interesting lady. She tells good stories. She was the first to get a degree in our family, a degree in Bible Psychology. (Maybe that's where I get my highly analytical biblical tactics from). She knows Hebrew and Greek. She told me in order to interpret my bible well, I should learn it. I said it's too hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said "You mean to tell me, you have a Ph.D. in chemistry, and you can't learn greek and hebrew?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Grandma. I probably could. I'm just lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's a great lady. Very kind. She use to pick on me on the sly for my spiritual choices. You know me, I could care less. I do what's best for me. But as the years go by, she will tell me "Sugar, i watched your pastor on TV the other day. He is good. And funny." And we will discuss her thoughts on the sermon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I guess I'm not a heathen afterall. Yay me.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, she is the subject for my food-for-thought today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spoke with her on New Years day, calling just to wish her a Happy New Year. We always joke about age. I always ask her how old I will be this year, and she goes through her whole story of how she remembers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You were born in 1970, Lisa. So I count from there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine her surprise when she figured out in 2010, that I'd be turning 40.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ooooo little girl. Forty years old. Forty years old!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was amazed. She remembers carrying me around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we figured out this year that I am about to be the age now that she was when I was born. So I was born when she had just turned 42.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(That created a whole conversation within itself).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she is turning 83 this year. What an age. I told her she is getting up there. She has seen it all. World wars, presidents, everything. She has seen it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her I am happy to always see a new year. Good to see a new year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happy New Year!" I hollered again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, Lisa. It's not Happy New Year."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was puzzled to hear that. "What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happy New Day! Each day is brand new. We always say 'Out with the Old, In with New' every January 1st. When actually, each day is brand new. So it's Happy New Day!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's a thought," I said. "A good way to look at it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lisa, imagine," she said, "If you could wake up each DAY and say 'Out with the Old, In with the New', instead of waiting til the beginning of a new year to make your goals and resolutions. Imagine the possiblities."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Never thought of it that way. You're right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happy New Day," she said. "Yes, it is Happy New Day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are right, Grandma. Absolutely right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would happen if we could get up each morning and wish ourselves and those around us a "happy new day"? What would happen if we would resolve to be rid of the old- those things which depress us, confuse us, and/or are detrimental to our lives- and, in with the new - new and fresh attitudes, hopes, direction, and dreams?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. But I tell you, I've been pondering that conversation since Janurary 1st.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words of wisdom from a woman who has seen over 30,000 "new days" on this earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could only hope to see that amount of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That amount of New Days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you a Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you a Happy New day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-1051767157750172154?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/1051767157750172154/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=1051767157750172154&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/1051767157750172154?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/1051767157750172154?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/monday-food-for-thought-mlk-day.html" title="Monday Food For Thought: MLK Day." /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ThZ576StMcw/TxRQ-sEXBFI/AAAAAAAAIBo/HyCcv7sLubw/s72-c/MLK_1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ABQHk5fCp7ImA9WhRVFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-4977960327977716540</id><published>2012-01-13T12:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T12:29:11.724-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-13T12:29:11.724-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Freestyle Friday" /><title>Freestyle Fridays...</title><content type="html">Good Friday Morning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought I would just pop in for a minute and say a hearty HELLO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been super busy at work. Just trying to keep up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was looking at the news the other morning and saw something concerning my area of work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hollered "NOOOOOO!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Hope I don't get assigned to that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*lee cringing when she sees the junket of emails coming her way*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's one of those things where, maybe if I sit at my desk and close my eyes, then no one will see me, and I will be left alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... I immediately go put it all on my resume. (Gotta be positive and proactive, man!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Food-For-Thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I would like to thank you all for riding along on the "Food-For-Thought" Train... It was such a wonderful feeling to end my year with what was heavy on my mind and to begin my new year with what's heavy on my mind. I think about such things all the time. I am doing well in my understanding in some areas, and in others, I am still creeping along, making a little progress. So it helps just to write things out. And I have organized my food for thought posts in a way that I can come back and read them if I need to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I do that often. I will pull up posts from years ago, just to refresh my heart and soul on a few matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Writing Progress&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I have been doing MUCH writing this year. Yes the year is young, but it feels good to really sit down and crank out good words every night, and learn new and interesting things about my charactres. That is what I truly love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to thank that Quadroon orthapedic chicken Mzinspiredmind for reading my daily writing offerings and for our deep discussions. She sees a couple of things that I just can't see, and she asks some really good questions. Thanks, Chicken!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You never know... we may have a story week soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Milk and Cookies galore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Oh, Milk and Cookies 3.0 is home. Everyone is fine. I snuck this picture off of Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9W8OjQlEehg/Tw-yFouLbqI/AAAAAAAAIBc/hGo3DINx76o/s1600/milkcookiesall_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696967863547162274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9W8OjQlEehg/Tw-yFouLbqI/AAAAAAAAIBc/hGo3DINx76o/s400/milkcookiesall_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy I tell you... Father and Son have toothy smiles. I see all of their teeths. ALL. Turn down the wattage, ya'll!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Milk and Cookies 3.0 is fast asleep. I am sure he will have a toothy grin one day too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;That is all for now... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ya'll have a great weekend... on purpose!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-4977960327977716540?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/4977960327977716540/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=4977960327977716540&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/4977960327977716540?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/4977960327977716540?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/freestyle-fridays.html" title="Freestyle Fridays..." /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9W8OjQlEehg/Tw-yFouLbqI/AAAAAAAAIBc/hGo3DINx76o/s72-c/milkcookiesall_1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcFQX49cCp7ImA9WhRVEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-2737281582764649293</id><published>2012-01-11T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T00:00:10.068-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-11T00:00:10.068-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="wordless wednesdays" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cooking" /><title>Wordless Wednesday: Holiday Gumbo in Pictures</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i6Hd7tNa3ok/TwyrAgZFXyI/AAAAAAAAH_w/UBIvX6oDVyo/s1600/gumbo_8"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696115653900328738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i6Hd7tNa3ok/TwyrAgZFXyI/AAAAAAAAH_w/UBIvX6oDVyo/s400/gumbo_8" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d-KpNyarjc0/TwyrBBXOIyI/AAAAAAAAH_8/zS-d9tkJoiE/s1600/gumbo_9"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696115662750884642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d-KpNyarjc0/TwyrBBXOIyI/AAAAAAAAH_8/zS-d9tkJoiE/s400/gumbo_9" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZE63PatF9Hs/Twyq_9eUr-I/AAAAAAAAH_o/Lq7VuCt7QGM/s1600/gumbo_7"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696115644527063010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZE63PatF9Hs/Twyq_9eUr-I/AAAAAAAAH_o/Lq7VuCt7QGM/s400/gumbo_7" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HdqZhWmxjXo/Twyuk-MtLRI/AAAAAAAAIBQ/DP8ES9N1g1U/s1600/gumbo_98"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696119578911649042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HdqZhWmxjXo/Twyuk-MtLRI/AAAAAAAAIBQ/DP8ES9N1g1U/s400/gumbo_98" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QzQPqSmUkmI/TwyudMRE-MI/AAAAAAAAIBE/H2Ks0-Ypgjc/s1600/gumbo_97"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696119445249128642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QzQPqSmUkmI/TwyudMRE-MI/AAAAAAAAIBE/H2Ks0-Ypgjc/s400/gumbo_97" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-46X3OvW_X_c/Twyub3ndljI/AAAAAAAAIA8/1cpvxJKENP8/s1600/gumbo_96"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696119422526002738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-46X3OvW_X_c/Twyub3ndljI/AAAAAAAAIA8/1cpvxJKENP8/s400/gumbo_96" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XbT0eh9uoiY/Twyubpwip_I/AAAAAAAAIAs/fDZjaA8Nv8w/s1600/gumbo_95"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696119418805987314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XbT0eh9uoiY/Twyubpwip_I/AAAAAAAAIAs/fDZjaA8Nv8w/s400/gumbo_95" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fkhrtHFtbfQ/TwyrBpDmgNI/AAAAAAAAIAI/oThd0rsw6dk/s1600/gumbo_99"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696115673406013650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fkhrtHFtbfQ/TwyrBpDmgNI/AAAAAAAAIAI/oThd0rsw6dk/s400/gumbo_99" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YstI4-_Bumo/Twyp957gzSI/AAAAAAAAH-0/MHmaHPjmgNU/s1600/gumbo_3"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696114509704383778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YstI4-_Bumo/Twyp957gzSI/AAAAAAAAH-0/MHmaHPjmgNU/s400/gumbo_3" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d3ucMp7Ngv8/Twyp-3gkdFI/AAAAAAAAH_Q/MI-pQ1-5U48/s1600/gumbo_5"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696114526234375250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d3ucMp7Ngv8/Twyp-3gkdFI/AAAAAAAAH_Q/MI-pQ1-5U48/s400/gumbo_5" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dmd8CLkz228/Twyp9NZTpLI/AAAAAAAAH-c/z7H0Tc3NGRM/s1600/gumbo_1"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696114497749755058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dmd8CLkz228/Twyp9NZTpLI/AAAAAAAAH-c/z7H0Tc3NGRM/s400/gumbo_1" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iX49FqAgdqw/TwyuanctNwI/AAAAAAAAIAk/fI64Hd_CqOM/s1600/gumbo_94"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696119401006053122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iX49FqAgdqw/TwyuanctNwI/AAAAAAAAIAk/fI64Hd_CqOM/s400/gumbo_94" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YkD3yR2tZaM/Twyq_fFDHrI/AAAAAAAAH_Y/ujr9KaDr4U0/s1600/gumbo_6"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696115636367990450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YkD3yR2tZaM/Twyq_fFDHrI/AAAAAAAAH_Y/ujr9KaDr4U0/s400/gumbo_6" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mIf9vbRfhhI/TwyuaUzsrOI/AAAAAAAAIAU/yCvR3Mdhhg4/s1600/gumbo_93"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696119396002213090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mIf9vbRfhhI/TwyuaUzsrOI/AAAAAAAAIAU/yCvR3Mdhhg4/s400/gumbo_93" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s10uC-zOl5A/Twyp-Wq4dxI/AAAAAAAAH_A/sduf4eOtDM8/s1600/gumbo_4"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696114517419259666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s10uC-zOl5A/Twyp-Wq4dxI/AAAAAAAAH_A/sduf4eOtDM8/s400/gumbo_4" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-2737281582764649293?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/2737281582764649293/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=2737281582764649293&amp;isPopup=true" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/2737281582764649293?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/2737281582764649293?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/wordless-wednesday-holiday-gumbo-in.html" title="Wordless Wednesday: Holiday Gumbo in Pictures" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i6Hd7tNa3ok/TwyrAgZFXyI/AAAAAAAAH_w/UBIvX6oDVyo/s72-c/gumbo_8" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMARHY9fSp7ImA9WhRVEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-1612764152952639616</id><published>2012-01-09T22:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T22:34:05.865-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T22:34:05.865-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>Food for Thought: Microwaves and Crockpots</title><content type="html">Last Food for Thought... just for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late last year I was reading a very interesting book on Fasting: The Fasting Edge by Jentenzen Franklin. Actually, he has 3 books on the subject, and he's considered one of the best authors on the subject. This one was his latest book. I bought one of the others for a friend, and I plan on reading it in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was a great book. It really delves deep into the personal relationship with God, and different aspects of it, and talks about where fasting fits in with it. Great book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was one statement in there, in Chapter 3, that has stuck with me pretty strongly. Probably because it is something that has been on my mind for several years now. I just really haven't seen it put in words. But when I read it I knew it was the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;"We have been blighted with a microwave mentality, but we serve a Crock-pot God."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Microwaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XeJoOqc49VQ/TwutWOKK3iI/AAAAAAAAH-I/RUPfhvgiMTk/s1600/microwaves1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695836751009603106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XeJoOqc49VQ/TwutWOKK3iI/AAAAAAAAH-I/RUPfhvgiMTk/s400/microwaves1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crockpots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O7-KfOBZgZA/TwuuH2MyHGI/AAAAAAAAH-Q/hUb74YEfZUo/s1600/crockpots1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695837603571571810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 313px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O7-KfOBZgZA/TwuuH2MyHGI/AAAAAAAAH-Q/hUb74YEfZUo/s400/crockpots1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I use one more than the other. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I bet you do, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when we got our first microwave, back in the early 80s. Big boxy thing. Yes, we always had a crock pot around, for as far back as I remember, but it was NOTHING, and has nothing on microwave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And over the years, microwave ovens have become more compact. They have higher wattages too. They are more stylish. I like the stainless steel ones. My kitchen has black appliances, so of course I have a black one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I use it everyday. I may use my crockpot once a year these days. I use to slow cook my meats in them - oxtails, neckbones, turkey wings, and the like. I don't eat those things anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence, no need for me to break out my crockpot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this post isn't about that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That quote above was in a paragraph, wrapped tightly in the following quote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;"If God doesn't speak to us in 5 minutes, we decide he isn't talking today... We want everything overnight, including maturity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I am utterly shocked at how fast my world is going. How fast things are done. 20 years ago, you could have NEVER told me that I would have a computer that rested on my lap, this laptop. I would have called you a liar if you would've told me way back then that I would have a phone, a smartphone, that would work faster than my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do believe I would've laughed in your face. Laughed really hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, in 2011, here we are. Here we stand. Life is FAST. With a push of a button, information is at my fingertips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have a fit if that which is at my fingertips doesn't work fast enough. A literal conniption fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast fast fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hence... my bible, it's at my fingertips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And me? I know I have four or five laying around the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even have websites where I can bring up 35 versions of the Bible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is at my fingertips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But... I am finding that certain things in life must be taken real slow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crockpot slow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Placed on a low setting. Cooked super slow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flavors have a chance to meld, blend, and mature into something very rich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something very rich indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am finding out, and have understood for awhile that somethings are not microwaveable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And somethings don't go in a crockpot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look around me, and notice that many things we want, we want it now, and we want it fast. And a lot of the things of life just don't work that way: relationships with people, internal growth and change for the better...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a relationship with God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those things cannot be just thrown in the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just don't come out right at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want that mature relationship with God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I understand, like with that crock-pot, it is something that has to be slowly developed. It has to grow and mature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the only way to get something good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am happy for that. It can't be cheapened and obtained by a mere snap of the fingers, or in the blink of an eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be blighted- damaged, frustrated, injured, marred, messed up, spoil, tainted, withered, trashed, or wreck- by this microwave mentality that I am not ashamed to admit that I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to respect the slow development of the relationship with God... hoping that it is well rooted, well matured...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And something that lasts. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thank you for tuning in to my Food-For-Thought blowout. I think about these type of things the majority of the time. I needed to end my 2011 and begin my 2012 with some great thoughts, concening things heavy on my mind, and even on the direction I want to go in my spiritual life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We now return to our regular House of LadyLee programming.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-1612764152952639616?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/1612764152952639616/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=1612764152952639616&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/1612764152952639616?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/1612764152952639616?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/food-for-thought-microwaves-and.html" title="Food for Thought: Microwaves and Crockpots" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XeJoOqc49VQ/TwutWOKK3iI/AAAAAAAAH-I/RUPfhvgiMTk/s72-c/microwaves1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8GQ30_eCp7ImA9WhRVEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-8567948074295200811</id><published>2012-01-08T21:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T22:47:02.340-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T22:47:02.340-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>Food For Thought: Spiritual Inkpens</title><content type="html">More Food for Thought...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 2 left to do. And I suppose I will do them and finish up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard something a couple of weeks ago in one of my morning Bible Studies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;"Your tongue is a spiritual inkpen. You use it to write things (words) on your heart. And out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is mad interesting. I've heard that before. But... never brought together like that. I found it interesting enough to jot down in my notes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And man... sometimes, I wish folks would run out of ink. Don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I wish I would run out of ink. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the tongue is interesting. With our mouth we speak words. And those words can build up... or cause mad problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see it every day. Just look at the political races right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When is YOUR state gonna be bombarded with commercials... full of words. Why do you think they pay MILLIONS of dollars on commercials? They are writing those words on your heart. And you are gonna start talking and discussing those words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing that as being true, then it is easy to see, well for my ownself and looking at my past: I really have to watch over what I speak over my own life and how I feel about my ownself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And watch over it like a hawk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will never hear me say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I will never be anyone special."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I will never be successful."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"This situation will never work out the way I want it."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I am lonely. I will always be alone."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NERP. First of all, I don't think I have felt that way in over 20 years. At least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if I did, I shut up until I get my head straight. I find that if I get to verbalizing that stuff, I have been feeling that way for a minute. It has been wound up tight in my thought life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shoot, man.. go back to the last post. NONE of that can be true. You can't see five minutes in front of your face. Anything can happen. Even in the next breath you take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I found myself in a couple of situations in the past six months where I had to just shut up. I was nervous and afraid about a couple of things, and I have had to learn to be still and examine those feelings really closely... and not give voice to them. Yeah, I prayed about it. BUT I didn't get into that hard wail and whine about them. If I did talk about them, it would be with someone who knew me well and could relentlessly combat my negativity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought much about how I wanted things to be. About what would be the best outcome for me in the situation. And THAT's what I decided to talk about, if I talked at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is tough at times, since all my life I've been doing something different. My whole childhood, negative words were spoken over me, moreso that positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parents, your tongues are like spiritual ink pens. You are writing words on the hearts of your children. Make sure they are good words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know now to do differently now. Write good words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And things turned out just fine. And that's the way I need for it to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone told me the other day... "Lee, you really know people."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not really," I said. "I just listen to what they are talking about. Their words are the overflow of their hearts. I listen hard enough, I can define their true motives, purposes and intentions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you listen close enough, you will hear it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It amazes me that we will take much time and care in selecting our fruit at the grocery store - making sure it's ripe and not blemished. Making sure there are no holes, and they're not rotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet we don't take the same care with the words that come out of our mouths... making sure they are good and not blemished or rotten. Making sure those words are sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our words are more important than that fruit. For we write those words on our hearts. Take a little time to make sure they are fruitful words. Productive words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take heed... we are doing much with your spiritual inkpen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ink is hard to blot out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold that ink pen correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Use that ink pen wisely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-8567948074295200811?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/8567948074295200811/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=8567948074295200811&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/8567948074295200811?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/8567948074295200811?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/food-for-thought-spiritual-inkpens.html" title="Food For Thought: Spiritual Inkpens" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUDSXY6cSp7ImA9WhRWGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-840042237061805822</id><published>2012-01-05T22:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T22:57:58.819-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-05T22:57:58.819-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>Food for Thought: Five Minutes, Part II</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/food-for-thought-5-minutes.html"&gt;Click here for Part I...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... on Wednesday afternoon, I went to morning bible study. It was interesting. Never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;seent&lt;/span&gt; the minister who preached today. She was a lady minister, and I like them. I learned some interesting things. She's an older lady, maybe a church mother. She had some INTERESTING Celie Color Purple type stories (and you know I like that type of thing, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my mind was on making a thrift store stop since I was on that side of town. I needed some cookie tins. I like to buy them cheap from one particular thrift store, clean and bleach them out good, and use them for cookie gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was going to run in there. Takes me about 5 minutes to run in there, get my tins, and BOUNCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I somehow got the most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;noisest&lt;/span&gt; buggy ever. It was so noisy that people were looking at me. You could hear my empty buggy coming your way, man. So what. I was only going to be there for 5 minutes. I did what I had to do in about 2 minutes. I know exactly where they keep the tins, I know what size I like... all that. Throw them suckers in the buggy and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOUNCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got side-tracked, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw something I hadn't seen before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had some enormous rugs hanging from rafters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dGl7ERM86SE/TwUgOk7WNuI/AAAAAAAAH9k/s6n9ToykVug/s1600/thrift_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693992738682713826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dGl7ERM86SE/TwUgOk7WNuI/AAAAAAAAH9k/s6n9ToykVug/s400/thrift_3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Huge rugs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uNn3bZjPnh8/TwUgOA7m73I/AAAAAAAAH9U/2C2JEAjg32w/s1600/thrift_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693992729020133234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uNn3bZjPnh8/TwUgOA7m73I/AAAAAAAAH9U/2C2JEAjg32w/s400/thrift_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wheeled my noisy buggy that way. (Much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;noiser&lt;/span&gt; now, as it was filled with empty aluminum tins- all clanking as I moved). I'd been coming in there for years, and that was something new. I had to investigate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I decided to investigate. They were NICE rugs. Most 8' x 12'. Very clean. And they were going for $100 or less. Even though I didn't want to buy one, I spent time perusing them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I looked to the right at a shelf in front of the rafters of rugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iuP-Oy2RTxE/TwUjA_Szn8I/AAAAAAAAH9s/RkK8LiXc8PY/s1600/thrift_4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693995803777146818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iuP-Oy2RTxE/TwUjA_Szn8I/AAAAAAAAH9s/RkK8LiXc8PY/s400/thrift_4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that was funny. Not a doggone name brand amongst them. And they were all dirt cheap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to ask one of the workers who walked by... "&lt;em&gt;'&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Scuse&lt;/span&gt; me, do you have the Lysol Brand? Some Formula 409, perhaps? What about some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Chlorox&lt;/span&gt; products?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I glanced over them. There were some interesting names... brands I never heard of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is NO way I'm cleaning my kitchen counters with Bang cleaner. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Nerp&lt;/span&gt;. Not gonna happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a good 5 minutes looking around. So much for doing a 5 minute drive-by cookie tin run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was interesting. I took pictures to pass along to &lt;a href="http://www.adrienneslittleworld.typepad.com/a_glimpse_of_me_a_peek_in/#tp"&gt;Play Mama&lt;/a&gt;, since she is a thrift store fanatic. I wanted to show her that our thrift stores are high class! If I need a nice rug, I know where to go. (Still passing on the cleaning products).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I had my cookie tins. And I was about to head to check out. I wanted to make sure I copped ALL the good cookie tins. I wheeled my noisy buggy back down that aisle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I saw a woman about 15 feet from me. She looked familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*lee's eyes go wide*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wasn't looking my way. Her back was to me. Then she turned to the side. She was perusing the women's shirts. She held one up in the air and considered it. She apparently didn't like it, and placed it back on the rack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*lee backing noisy buggy backwards up the aisle*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have, like, complicated &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Mommie&lt;/span&gt; issues. She is someone that I do not deal with. Haven't since 2005 or 2006. If you have read my blog over the years... no explanation needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*lee backing noisy buggy backwards up the aisle hard and fast...grimacing at the noise I was making*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother is unpredictable. She may or may not go verbally postal in public. And I was thinking about that. I know I would get jumped on about something, even though I stay out of her way. (I am like a UFO). But I made it out of my aisle and was headed for the cashier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I thought better of it. I sent Play Mama a text: "Okay... I see my Mama in the thrift store. I suppose I should speak." To which she replied, Um yes please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that gave me the courage to go and speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was talking to one of the workers, and had opened her purse and pulled out a notebook to show her something. I slowly made my way her way, noisy buggy and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was in front of her. She and the thrift store worker looked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, Mama," I said. "How you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She yelled out, "Lisa!" (my family nickname).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she bust out crying. Just collapsed on her buggy and and boo-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;hooed&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and the thrift store worker were puzzled to say the least. I was just glad I wasn't getting cussed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why are you crying?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said "I am just happy to see you." Then she ran over and hugged my neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird, weird, weird, weird, weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hugged her back. Even though I had no idea what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went back to her buggy and retrieved some cards. Apparently she had printed out her new grandson's pictures from the computer, and had taped them to cards with the birth information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's okay," I said. "I already have pictures. Kari sent a bunch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went back to her buggy, told the thrift store worker that I was her oldest child. The thrift worker oohed and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;aaahed&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;(I told you, seeing me is like a UFO sighting. Rare).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;*lee feeling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;uncomfy&lt;/span&gt; about all of this*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I thanked her for the Christmas gift that she sent via my younger sister Kentucky and told her I had a gift bag at home for her. (There was much discussion between me and Kentucky about this. She told me exactly what to buy in order to stay out of trouble. I was almost finished buying stuff.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was enough for me. I said good-bye, and wheeled my noisy buggy to the cashier to check out my tins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I paid for my tins. And headed out the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And pondered this whole experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the whole 5 minute postulate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had meant to run in the store and do what I had to do in 5 minutes time. That's about how long it takes over the years to make it do what it do in that store. I ended up spending 5 minutes extra time in there playing with soft rugs, and laughing at off-off brand cleaning products.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I spent 5 minutes talking to my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You can't even see five minutes in front of your face, people."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No I can't, sir. I must agree with you. No I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a couple of text &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;convos&lt;/span&gt; about my feelings concerning this that evening. Serenity23 had questions, and we talked about it. Play Mama and I talked about it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I called my sister and asked her to explain what THAT was all about. She had her theories. Our conversations about our mother as of late have been centered on me trying to keep my sister from not throwing in the towel. Kentucky is getting to the age where she don't tolerate unnecessary drama from out Mother, so there are battles and blowouts. (It doesn't help that I holler how my Mama live in Alabama and I don't have to deal with ratchetness. Kentucky kicks the hard eyeroll at me when I get going. She knows I hate ratchetness and drama). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I will just leave this crossing paths with my mother as a chance meeting. Pleasant. A rarity in my 42 years on this earth. Thankful for pleasant moments. And leave it at that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such can occur when you spend five minutes too long in the store. Anything can happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Minister Phillips message concerning the 5 minutes was simple. Stop being all glum about the future. You don't know what the future holds. Tomorrow isn't even promised. You can't even see 5 minutes in front of your face. Plan wisely, live wisely. Believe God. Pray. No bad days, no sad days. Have faith in God and trust Him to lead You. He has good thoughts and plans for you. Get in line with it. Line your mind and thoughts up with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that's right. Good advice indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be thinking about that for the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;2012&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; season.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-840042237061805822?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/840042237061805822/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=840042237061805822&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/840042237061805822?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/840042237061805822?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/food-for-thought-five-minutes-part-ii.html" title="Food for Thought: Five Minutes, Part II" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dGl7ERM86SE/TwUgOk7WNuI/AAAAAAAAH9k/s6n9ToykVug/s72-c/thrift_3.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08FRnY-fCp7ImA9WhRWF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-540308118734197127</id><published>2012-01-04T23:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T00:03:37.854-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-05T00:03:37.854-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>Food for Thought: 5 Minutes</title><content type="html">&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Walk with me... as we continue the Food-for-Thought blowout extravaganza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;So...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was listening to a CD of my favorite minister from my church, Minister Phillip. I've written about him before. His sermons are usually on &lt;a href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2009/01/post-9-mystery-of-identity-crisis.html"&gt;identity crisis issues&lt;/a&gt;. That's a really complicated and hard topic, and he does a great job with it. He is from the islands, has that hard carribean accent so I have to pay attention, especially if he get to talking fast, lol. I don't wanna miss nuthin.&lt;br /&gt;I come out of his sermons understanding my complicated self just a little better, feeling uplifted and equipped with a written plan of action!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't catch up with sessions much, as the ministers are on rotation for morning bible studies. A couple of months ago, I happen to see one of his recent messages on CD so I copped it. I like to listen to things like that when I have to be in the car for awhile. (for me that means anything longer than 20 minutes. I only put 5000 miles a year on my car).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I happen to be listening to this message, and he said something very interesting. I'll have to paraphrase it. The part in red is the most important...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You worry about the future. You wail about tomorrow. Get all depressed, let the circumstances get to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth of the matter is that you don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. Tomorrow isn't promised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;You can't even see 5 minutes in front of your face, people.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Hmm... I know he serious when we ends a sentence with "people".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He talked of how you don't know what's going to happen in the next 5 mintues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now hold on, I thought to myself while rolling down the freeway listening to this. He done gone to far with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, LadyLee, can see 5 minutes in front of my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, when you spread time out wider, I can't say that I can see what's going to happen. I mean, I don't know what I will be doing 5 years from now. I can say what I &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; to be doing 5 years from now, but honestly, I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 months from now becomes a little clearer. 5 weeks from now a little more clearer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we get over into times periods closer to the present: 5 days, 5 hours...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;You can't even see 5 minutes in front of your face, people! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been off from work, including weekends, for 13 days. Oh me, oh my... man, I had all these vainglorious plans to do all these wonderful things when I was off. Cleaning my house from head to toe, get a bunch of writing done! Just all kinds of stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man. I didn't get half that stuff done. I did a lot of cleaning, but not all that I wanted to do. I may have laid a little over 3000 words on paper. And that was just since January 1st.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all the plans I had, I didn't get done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really couldn't see 5 days in front of my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And 5 hours ago, I thought by now, by the time I wrote this post, that I would have my clothes together for work tomorrow and my lunch prepared. Just to save myself some time. Here we are, and I only have my lunch prepared (basically I put the leftover fragrant potato and chickpea stew from dinner in tupperware container and that is lunch for tomorrow).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still gotta get my clothes together, though. &lt;em&gt;(*lee listening out for that dryer buzzer*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see where I'm getting at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I was having a bit of trouble with this 5 minute statement:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;You can't even see 5 minutes in front of your face, people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;This 5 minute thing... I get what he was saying, but dang man... &lt;br /&gt;I, LadyLee, can see 5 minutes in front of my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I KNOW what's gonna happen in the next 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sir! You can't tell me that I don't know what was going to happen in the next 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or do I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't fully understand what he meant until I went to the thrift store today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fully understand that today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after morning bible study, I went to the thrift store. I was only gonna be in there for 5 minutes. That's my usual time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But... But...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;~echoing in my head~&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;You can't even see 5 minutes in front of your face, Ladylee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Should I make this a 2 part post? Yeah, man... I'll make it a two part post... To be continued.) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-540308118734197127?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/540308118734197127/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=540308118734197127&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/540308118734197127?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/540308118734197127?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/food-for-thought-5-minutes.html" title="Food for Thought: 5 Minutes" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYCSHg5eip7ImA9WhRWFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-1754212515648366435</id><published>2012-01-03T21:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T22:02:49.622-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-03T22:02:49.622-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>Food for Thought: The Singing of Songs</title><content type="html">&lt;em&gt;When Adam and Eve ate from the tree of knowledge of good and evil in the Garden of Eden, they heard the voice of God, and they hid themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When God asked why they were hiding, they replied they were...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he asked them a question...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One He asks me when I get to feeling low, fearful, or in some sort of way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just feeling bad about life and where I am, and all the shoulda, woulda, couldas:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who told you this, Adam and Eve?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who told you this, LadyLee?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words, "Who told you this, Oldgirl? What have you been meditating on, pondering, and considering that would have you come to these conclusions about yourself, your life, your worth, your place in this world, and your purposes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because it sure wasn't Me (God)!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not what My Word says about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard that many years ago. Found it, fascinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much sticks with me. But THAT sticks with me. In all its simplicity, it delves into the human psyche and nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I text it to a friend a little while ago. Another friend a few months ago. And yet another friend some time before that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"When Adam and Eve ate from the tree..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I know they were all like... What the world?? What the heck is this chick getting at?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I text it... right when someone gets crunk and gets to wailing hard. They've examined their past, or something that just happen, or some circumstance or problem and just start wailing negative things about themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you, Man... Guilt and self condemnation and fear sho do move us to acting out in some interesting ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of like when a puppy gets all excited or distressed... you know how they get crunk, get to whining... and then pee all over themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got to stop life's pissy moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I text that in italics above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I follow up with my own thoughts on it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the trials of life - circumstances, bad decisions, the cares and worries of life, our checking accounts, detrimental people, and any other tomfoolery you can think of - sho nuff know how to lock arms and sang an interestingly LOUD song to us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With some mighty strong choruses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we listen closely to the song, humm right along, memorize the words...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And start singing right along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting in agreement with it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get in agreement with that song... it might lead you to a place of fear, it may lead you in the wrong direction...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sing a different song!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One that won't make God go O_o, but one that He can join in on and tap His foot to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and I have long rich histories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long laundry lists of wonderful accomplishments... peppered with some mistakes and unfortuante issues...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just remember who you are truly... and go with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Focus on that... Sing THAT song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our feelings will fall in line with that good song, sooner and faster than you and I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that passage above has deeper meaning. And you know me. I can go on and on. But this is the primary one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I refuse to get in agreement with feelings that have me going down the wrong road. If I make mistakes, I will acknowledge them, and get back on the right track... lickity split!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I am shifting into 5th gear with that for the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;2012&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; season. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-1754212515648366435?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/1754212515648366435/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=1754212515648366435&amp;isPopup=true" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/1754212515648366435?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/1754212515648366435?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/food-for-thought-singing-of-songs.html" title="Food for Thought: The Singing of Songs" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08MSH04eip7ImA9WhRWFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-1062353209079106101</id><published>2012-01-02T15:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T15:24:49.332-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-02T15:24:49.332-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="monday randomness" /><title>First Monday!</title><content type="html">Whelp! It is the first Monday of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit... I wrote "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;2012&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;" in my journal yesterday and it looked mighty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I can get use to it. Gimme about a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The New Year is bright already. If you didn't see the last post, my brother Kari aka "Milk and Cookies" welcomed son #2 into the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a couple more pictures. Milk and Cookies Jr. and Milk and Cookies 3.0!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3yFQMpoGZSM/TwICJp9dk8I/AAAAAAAAH8M/CTabHxKkC1M/s1600/milkcookies_06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693115243855451074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3yFQMpoGZSM/TwICJp9dk8I/AAAAAAAAH8M/CTabHxKkC1M/s400/milkcookies_06.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Milk and Cookies, Jr. is cheesing down! And Milk and Cookies 3.0 is knocked out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o1u0f0xla0k/TwICJ19q6BI/AAAAAAAAH8Y/7QJ31__F2AY/s1600/milkcookies_07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693115247077550098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o1u0f0xla0k/TwICJ19q6BI/AAAAAAAAH8Y/7QJ31__F2AY/s400/milkcookies_07.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL. I can tell right now he's going to be a great big brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing I finished his baby blanket!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RheJooYisIg/TwIQmNPM08I/AAAAAAAAH84/knceLOsTohg/s1600/blanket_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693131127524217794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RheJooYisIg/TwIQmNPM08I/AAAAAAAAH84/knceLOsTohg/s400/blanket_3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They got it on Friday, baby born on Sunday. That was a close one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cgr0XeHUseI/TwIQl1XuP0I/AAAAAAAAH8w/_hex8JzGDLc/s1600/blanket_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693131121117511490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cgr0XeHUseI/TwIQl1XuP0I/AAAAAAAAH8w/_hex8JzGDLc/s400/blanket_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-12Njk447-Rc/TwIQJrDIFOI/AAAAAAAAH8k/Q0w8_rlRqOU/s1600/blanket_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for more pictures!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, i am off today. I am suppose to go back to work on Wednesday. I have been cleared to take the rest of the week off, but honestly, I just don't have much else to do. I rather just go head on and go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am not going to feel like that on Thursday morning. Sigh. But that is okay. Work 2 days, and then it's a 2 day weekend! *cartwheels*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have spent cleaning. And there is a 227 marathon on. I use to love that show 20 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sunny and cold outside. I should try to get out and do something today. We will see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see you all have enjoyed the Food for thought posts.... I have a couple more, so we will keep that going for the rest of the week. I think it was a good way to end my year, and it will be a good way to start my week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's to the 1st week of the year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make it a good one... on purpose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-1062353209079106101?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/1062353209079106101/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=1062353209079106101&amp;isPopup=true" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/1062353209079106101?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/1062353209079106101?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/first-monday.html" title="First Monday!" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3yFQMpoGZSM/TwICJp9dk8I/AAAAAAAAH8M/CTabHxKkC1M/s72-c/milkcookies_06.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUMRHY8eyp7ImA9WhRWFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-5424343160348438880</id><published>2012-01-01T14:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T14:48:05.873-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-01T14:48:05.873-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Milk and cookies 3.0" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="milk and cookies" /><title>Milk and Cookies 3.0</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="center"&gt;Look who showed up overnight at 1:35 am Pacific time out in Seattle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;New Years Baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Milk and Cookies 3.0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RCKyNg7isb8/TwCc1b-SAmI/AAAAAAAAH8A/WmP0g8rnsIQ/s1600/milkcookies_05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692722370852291170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RCKyNg7isb8/TwCc1b-SAmI/AAAAAAAAH8A/WmP0g8rnsIQ/s400/milkcookies_05.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*lee shouting hard enough from Atlanta for the baby to hear out in Seattle*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;HAPPY FIRST DAY ON THE PLANET, MINI MILK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY NEW DAY TO YA, NEPHEW!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR, BOY!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;*throws glitter*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-5424343160348438880?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/5424343160348438880/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=5424343160348438880&amp;isPopup=true" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/5424343160348438880?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/5424343160348438880?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/milk-and-cookies-30.html" title="Milk and Cookies 3.0" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RCKyNg7isb8/TwCc1b-SAmI/AAAAAAAAH8A/WmP0g8rnsIQ/s72-c/milkcookies_05.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UESX45fSp7ImA9WhRWFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-6190636225795133933</id><published>2012-01-01T01:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T02:00:08.025-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-01T02:00:08.025-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="new year" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;STAR DATE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2012.1.1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ALAS&lt;br /&gt;THE FIRST DAY OF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;THE SECOND YEAR OF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;THE SECOND DECADE OF THE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;21st CENTURY IS AT HAND.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT BEGINS TODAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;(((((((&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;)))))))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;From your Friendly Neighborhood Oldgirl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LadyLee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1777/1424/1600/girl%20jacks2.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1777/1424/400/girl%20jacks2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-6190636225795133933?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/6190636225795133933/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=6190636225795133933&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/6190636225795133933?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/6190636225795133933?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year.html" title="" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04GQXY7eCp7ImA9WhRWE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-336980575762505052</id><published>2011-12-31T20:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T20:38:40.800-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-31T20:38:40.800-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>Food for Thought: This Year...</title><content type="html">Oh well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2011 is just hours from being history... from being in the past, from being behind us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have spent all week thinking, as I usually do at the end of every year, of that year, and what I learned, what I found to be significant...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I succeeded and where I failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I want to take this time to look back on a few things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I did better with my finances this year.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I met my savings goals and set some new ones. Matter of fact, I was looking back at a &lt;a href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2011/01/me-and-my-finances-2011.html"&gt;Finance post &lt;/a&gt;I did back in January 2011, and I actually did quite well. I began setting and implementing new financial goals for the new year around December 1st, so I am happy about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished a manuscript this year. Earlier this year, I finished my manuscript &lt;em&gt;Watch&lt;/em&gt;. It was short for me, around 240 pages. Very complicated stuff. A bunch of bloggers read through that draft and I had some AMAZING discussions with people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say that I have written much more this year. I really hate long form things, like novel length, works. Many of you have read Sweet Heat and Watch, and I can't thank you for all the help and feedback I received. It was wonderful. But like I said, I don't like long form. I love very short pieces, much of which has been placed on this blog. I know I had to have written 10 short-shorts this year for your enjoyment. That's what I enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when I complete something long, I am happy for it. There are nice touches throughout, and I always write with a good underlying moral to the story. I think I would love writing long form if I didn't have the distraction of working my job everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have about 10 novels in my head. Wouldn't you like to read all that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;My relationship with my sister has grown this year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I tell you, if you have ever met my sister, you will notice that she is 10 times quieter than me. AND she is 10 times funnier than me. I must say I really love talking to her because she REALLY makes me laugh. But this year, we have had good heart-to-heart talks. She has had to encourage me, and she gives great advice. I have been angry about a few things in the latter part of this year, and she has been good about setting my head straight, and hearing my frustrations. She explains things very well. I would have never thought that would happen, sense there is an 11 year difference in our ages, but I guess we are just getting older now. I am more thankful for her, each and every day. We are not part of a close knit family, but she makes me feel like I have some family, and that I am a part of something special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I met a bunch of bloggers and readers this year&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Jennifer, Mzinspiredmind, Marille, Lisa B., Singlema, Tazzee, Remnants, and whoever else I left out. I even ran into bloggers I've met in the past, like Southern Black Gal and Serenity again this year. Phenomenal people. I tell you, the depth of wisdom that has been imparted into me... man, I wouldn't trade it for theeworld.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One such blogger who has had a daily impact on my life, virtually all year is blogger &lt;a href="http://adrienneslittleworld.typepad.com/a_glimpse_of_me_a_peek_in/"&gt;Adrienne.&lt;/a&gt; This year she has been my online Mama. Funny how that happen. She &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6QtKX8jQGDc/Tv-e2lLln_I/AAAAAAAAH70/HYumNA3SILc/s1600/lee_4.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692443114550435826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6QtKX8jQGDc/Tv-e2lLln_I/AAAAAAAAH70/HYumNA3SILc/s200/lee_4.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;would be on twitter talking about how she really loves her husband and children and how she loves being a mother and wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought this was HILARIOUS. Why? Because my mother never thought of me as such. I went and told my sister about this. We were O_o. We have never heard of such of thing. Our mother does NOT feel that way about us. We couldn't even imagine our mother saying such a thing. WOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I would holler "Can you adopt me? Can you be my Mama?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the running joke began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny. I don't call her by her first name. I call her Mama. I am suppose to work on that for 2012. We will see. I know her family thinks I am a bit.... special. Because I call her brothers, "Uncle". I call her Mama "Grandma". I call her husband "Uncle Tony". (He is NOT my daddy. He better roll with the Uncle. LOL). And her childrens are my siblings. They know I am the eldest child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL. (They tend to be polite and smile at me. I know she has sat them down and told them that I am... special. LOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember LadyTee saying one day, "But she is, like, younger than you, girl. But-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She almost got tackled and thrown to the floor for that observation. "BE QUIET, LADYTEE," is what I yelled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I can't even explain the impact she has had on my life. She helps me work on my spiritual growth. She has such an interesting depth of wisdom, from which I have benefitted greatly. There is so much to her than meets the eye. Just a degree of multifacetness that I have rarely seen in people. I can tell her things, and there is no judgment. She has kept me out of some potential messes. Overall, she is a very kind person. I consider her not only a friend, but a much undeserved gift from God. Just a fascinating Oldgirl indeed. And I am glad to have met her. And she continues to have a daily impact on my life. I hope that is not for just a reason or for a season, as God tends to place people on my path for specific purposes and to solve specific problems. I hope it is ongoing. I really do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You's good people, Mama. And don't you ever forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But overall, it was great to meet so many readers and bloggers. Ya'll are some PHENOMENAL people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;I gave more this year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. No, not to church. I suppose I need to work on that. I am a tither, but funny on the offering side of things, meaning, I don't have a set offering goal. I don't keep up with that. Not sure what that is about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I mean I gave more into people's lives. I have a set figure I give to people per year. I didn't meet that in 2010. But I more than met it this year. I enjoy being able to be part of meeting a need or a dream. I really do. And you know why? Because I am always working on my selfishness issues. Always. To the point where I am a bit more sensitive to when I am being selfish, and I make note to correct it. And that is all I can ask for: to be sensitive to the needs of others, and to be quick to correct myself when I am being selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From selfish to selfless. That is important to me. Because we are living in a strange time. A time of what can I get from you and how much can you do for me. I want NO parts of that. NONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the goal. And I made some strides in that manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am growing. I always tell my sister, "It's like walking from Atlanta to California. Just get started. We will eventually get there. The important thing is to walk in that direction."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am walking in the direction of selfless. I have far to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I will get there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I prayed more this year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. My goal this year was to get up and pray for an hour every morning, every day this year. Sometimes that worked out. Sometimes it didn't. I would say I had a 90% success rate on that goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that works out to around 330 out of 365 days out of the year. That is ALOT. And I pray every day, it just that a few days, it was less than an hour. I am talking about a FULL hour. So I think 90% is not bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you will not believe the answers I got, or the personal revelations. You wouldn't believe it if I told you. I've posted a few things here on blog, mostly because I really need to go back and read it when I need it. Most things I refuse to post, but I tend to talk about it offline if it comes up in convo (Trust, it always does. There is some situation that the answer fits, if not for me, for someone else.) There had been, one time, a 2 hour turn around on a prayer (which was odd, since I was a bit ticked about something, and was a bit sarcastic... uh, that got shut down).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I must say, the majority of the time, the answers are never what I would think they would be. It got to a point where I started keeping a written record of answers. Not as stringent as I would have, but there have been some intangible things that have helped me gain a better understanding of some personal issues that I have been dealing with. For that I am thankful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know one thing: any answered prayer comes with asterik.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;*this answer is NOT subject to or takes into account people's opinions and approval.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know me, I ain't a "gimme" type of chick. I don't pray with any type of motive. For me, it was all about working on my relationship with God. It was about increasing my level of commitment, spirituality, and growth. It has gotten to the point that I SO look forward to waking up in the morning and praying. That is the very first thing on my mind. Not all the work drama, not the things going on in my life, not the news, none of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing on my mind each day is to get up and spend time with the Father. And that right there, sets the tone for my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing about it here because it was something important to me. Moreso in the vein of finding a level of consistency. I find that if I am consistent when it comes to God, it spreads out into my being more consistent with myself, and with others in life. And it also increases my level of personal peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will continue. And it will get deeper and better. And I will grow in my character. I know I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Biggest Realization of the Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. If I see people who are working on their personal growth and character, those are the people I need to get to know and pay close attention to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who think that they are all that, and they don't need to work on themselves... the people that I like to think of as "perfect people", are a trip. These seem to be the people who wreak havoc in other people's lives. Seems like when they are around, even the dogs, cats, goldfish and cockroaches' lives get worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't believe me? Pay close attention and you will see what I am talking about. That is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when these people walk out of the room and out of our lives, seems like we can all stand up and recover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Biggest realization of the year #2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I spend 1% of my time per week in Church. If that much. 99% of my time is spent doing something else. So I am not sure what all the religious fighting is about. I am who I am truly when I ain't in church. I am who I am when no one is looking. Character is what you are doing when no one is looking. My goal is to work on THAT. I will leave the arguing to everybody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, I don't care where you go to church. As long as you are happy. Don't hate on me for where I go to church. I am happy. Do an Oldgirl a favor and come at me with something that you learned, that will bless me and help me grow. I would really apprecitate that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Biggest ralization of the year #3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I realizing that I am getting older. Every morning when I wake up, and look in the mirror, I notice more and more gray hair, scattered all about my hairline. It's odd to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still feel young. I am still a young chicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't worry about it. You won't hear me whining about it. Man, it is SO much more important that I &lt;em&gt;woke up&lt;/em&gt; to see a new day, especially with this lupus. I have MANY more good days than bad. And I was looking at some bloodwork paperwork the other day, and I am actually in the very light category. I have been moderate for years, so that is a plus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if I wake up in the morning and my hair is completely gray? So be it. I am just a day older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happy to see a new day. And each day is such a wonderful gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So those are my personal ponderings for the year 2011. There's much more. But I won't go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just know that this has been a very rich year for your Friendly Neighborhood Oldgirl LadyLee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Man oh man... I can't wait to see what the year 2012 will bring&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-336980575762505052?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/336980575762505052/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=336980575762505052&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/336980575762505052?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/336980575762505052?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2011/12/food-for-thought-this-year.html" title="Food for Thought: This Year..." /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6QtKX8jQGDc/Tv-e2lLln_I/AAAAAAAAH70/HYumNA3SILc/s72-c/lee_4.bmp" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUBSXc4fCp7ImA9WhRWEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15388809.post-7546693358863245923</id><published>2011-12-30T08:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T08:54:18.934-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-30T08:54:18.934-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food fo thought" /><title>Food for Thought: A Pretty Gift</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WTlJRi9WoFQ/Tv0wxicU1-I/AAAAAAAAH7o/cf5I6fyg_gg/s1600/gift_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691759131683510242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 156px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WTlJRi9WoFQ/Tv0wxicU1-I/AAAAAAAAH7o/cf5I6fyg_gg/s200/gift_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;We tend to see a pretty gift...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrapped all nice, pretty paper and bows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see it, we want it, we imagine in our thoughts all of what wonderful things are inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta be something nice inside, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because look how beautifully it's wrapped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I GOTTA HAVE IT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, we spend time opening it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carefully removing the expensive paper, removing the expertly applied tape and untying the bows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We open the box and what we find inside is NOT what we were expecting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We frantically try to close the gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now it's too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because we've seen it, smelled it, heard it, tasted it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Felt it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hurry and try to close the box, but it is too late...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The damage is done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's on us. It's in us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the residue, it's hard to rub off. We rub so hard that we rub our skin raw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The residue... the consequences are latched to us like a leach...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking us to unknown places, directions unseen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the regret, it settles in for the ride...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the ride...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The ride is long. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... Interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I got that one day, maybe a week or two ago, after some of my ussal morning prayer. I am not particularly sure what was on my mind that day. But that came up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't understand it until I wrote it all down. Even now, it is still pregnant with revelation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can look back over my year, and well, really, my whole life and I can see how I went after things that were very appealing to me, but once I realized what was really going on, those things and people were not good for me at all. As a matter of fact, those people and things were a detriment to my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And once I realize this, it isn't so hard to walk away. I have made the decision to walk away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the residue of the interaction... it is long lasting. The thoughts, memories, regrets, decisions, etc... stays with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this little parablish story goes a long way to explain something I've been trying to understand all week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can control what decisions we make, but we can't control the consequences of those decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching a program on TV, and the person said that we make around 200 decisions per day. Just on a daily basis. Decisions on what to do, what to say, where to go, who to interact with, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a LOT of decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But with those decisions come consequences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consequences are built into the decisions. They, these consequences, are the results of decisions. They come with the package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are what is inside the pretty gift box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I get older, I am learning, in all my decision-making, to think about the consequences of the decisions. If I don't like the consequences, I most likely will squash the decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I have a long long way to go in that. Sometimes, I get it wrong. Sometimes I get it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think for myself, the goal now, is to be sure to be brutally honest with myself. I am learning to examine the root of my decisions. It is at times, a painful process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because we want what we want, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We want that pretty gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is painful to realize that gift, although appealing, may not be the best for us. Too much mess can result from embracing it. And sometimes the sheer memory and thought of it... the residue left behind after we have gotten rid of what we thought was a great gift, is so hard to rid ourselves of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little something I've been thinking about concerning this "pretty gift".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I could go on and on. I will be pondering it for awhile indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will be sure to examine my pretty gifts more closely...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And what could possibly be inside.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15388809-7546693358863245923?l=ladylee35.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/feeds/7546693358863245923/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15388809&amp;postID=7546693358863245923&amp;isPopup=true" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/7546693358863245923?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15388809/posts/default/7546693358863245923?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ladylee35.blogspot.com/2011/12/food-for-thought-pretty-gift.html" title="Food for Thought: A Pretty Gift" /><author><name>LadyLee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14895667783148669410</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwMJ7ystFJo/S6oEQ3_MecI/AAAAAAAAF6M/Pa5eT2VafHo/S220/DSCF0525.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WTlJRi9WoFQ/Tv0wxicU1-I/AAAAAAAAH7o/cf5I6fyg_gg/s72-c/gift_1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry></feed>

