<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMMR3w8fCp7ImA9WhdWFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588</id><updated>2011-09-08T08:58:06.274-07:00</updated><category term="Holidays" /><category term="saving money" /><category term="homemaking" /><category term="menu plan monday" /><category term="cvs" /><category term="children" /><category term="savings" /><category term="Christmas" /><category term="menus" /><category term="thoughts" /><category term="family" /><category term="funnies" /><category term="food for thought" /><category term="aprons" /><category term="projects" /><category term="greocery store deals" /><category term="gratitude" /><category term="health" /><category term="oamc" /><category term="misc" /><category term="daybook" /><title>Keeping A Home</title><subtitle type="html">Titus 2:3-5 
The aged women likewise, that they be in behaviour as becometh holiness, not false accusers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things; That they may teach the young women to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children,To be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>71</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/sMQo" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/smqo" /><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;A0EMRXo_eCp7ImA9WhZSFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-619836317328119098</id><published>2011-03-31T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T18:01:24.440-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-31T18:01:24.440-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gratitude" /><title>Gratitude</title><content type="html">60. Christian radio- so uplifting alone in the car 59. Good report from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pulminologist&lt;/span&gt; 58. Smiles from my children 57. Watching the sunrise while driving my son to track practice 56. Sharing conversations with him on these drives 55. Watching m&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;y&lt;/span&gt; husband and son working together on car repairs 54. My son wanting everyone to rub his fuzzy head after his haircut 53. The first spring flowers coming up 52. A good nights sleep 51. spring break&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-619836317328119098?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/619836317328119098/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=619836317328119098" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/619836317328119098?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/619836317328119098?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2011/03/gratitude.html" title="Gratitude" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08DRXwzeip7ImA9Wx9SGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-526178787459385760</id><published>2010-12-09T02:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T02:51:14.282-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-09T02:51:14.282-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Holidays" /><title>The Perfect Christmas Season..... or Not</title><content type="html">I LOOOVE Christmas. I love the traditions, the smells, picking out the perfect gift, decorating, Christmas carols and everything else that goes along with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually for Christmas I am very organized. I have a holiday jourmal where I keep my menus, (they are usually the same from year to year) keep a list of everyones gifts- so I don't forget where hid it and who it's for, and our lists of daily things to do for the holiday. Yes, everyday we do something Christmasy.  I have a list of things to do on each day of December- make first snow cocoa, read different Christmas stories, decorate ?, bake, go on Holy Walk, see Madrigale singers- you get the picture. This year I have done none of that. NONE! We do have a tree up with some decorations but that is about it in the decorating department. I am not sopossed to add things that can collect dust. I have barely sewn because I can't find the pedal to my sewing machine. I have lost my gift list twice now. But mostly because people have been sick. And it hasn't even been me for a change. We have had colds, broncitis, 3 children with pnemonia and now the stomach flu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead of baked goods it's been tea, 7-up and chicken soup. A lot of movies in bed, some of them Christmas instead of going away. And snuggling instead of activities. I do wish the children hadn't been and still aren't ill but it's okay to let go of expectations and let real life come in. I miss some of the extras but I find out a lot of the things I have thought I was doing for the children make me happier than them. And they really want to use paper plates instead of china.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-526178787459385760?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/526178787459385760/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=526178787459385760" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/526178787459385760?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/526178787459385760?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/12/perfect-christmas-season-or-not.html" title="The Perfect Christmas Season..... or Not" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cERn49cCp7ImA9Wx9TFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-369127553406871707</id><published>2010-11-22T16:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T16:10:07.068-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-22T16:10:07.068-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children" /><title>Dad's Little Helper</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TOsGFC7yhgI/AAAAAAAAAFM/YcQvLcdiwSg/s1600/100_1097.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542530450166285826" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TOsGFC7yhgI/AAAAAAAAAFM/YcQvLcdiwSg/s320/100_1097.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Zach wanted so badly to help change the tire, but it was all he could do to push on the jack.&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/4126800416975668588-369127553406871707?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/369127553406871707/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=369127553406871707" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/369127553406871707?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/369127553406871707?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/dads-little-helper.html" title="Dad's Little Helper" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TOsGFC7yhgI/AAAAAAAAAFM/YcQvLcdiwSg/s72-c/100_1097.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIHQXk7cCp7ImA9Wx9TFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-6912329402526820207</id><published>2010-11-22T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T16:02:10.708-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-22T16:02:10.708-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gratitude" /><title>Gratitude</title><content type="html">50. My Mom is Here Visiting!!!&lt;br /&gt;49. Cool showers&lt;br /&gt;48. Looking forward to family together on Thanksgiving&lt;br /&gt;47. Japanese cooking&lt;br /&gt;46. My son and grandaughter cuddled up for a story&lt;br /&gt;45. Sunday Dinners&lt;br /&gt;44. Being able to go shopping with Mom&lt;br /&gt;43. Comfy shoes&lt;br /&gt;42. Listening to my 7 year old read to me.&lt;br /&gt;41. My husband's meatloaf&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-6912329402526820207?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/6912329402526820207/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=6912329402526820207" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/6912329402526820207?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/6912329402526820207?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/gratitude_22.html" title="Gratitude" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MFQ3syfip7ImA9Wx9TEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-9066141343527280760</id><published>2010-11-19T18:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T18:16:52.596-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-19T18:16:52.596-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gratitude" /><title>Gratitude</title><content type="html">40. Pumpkin pie&lt;br /&gt;39. cookies in a jar&lt;br /&gt;38. Scrabble&lt;br /&gt;37. cinnamon sticks&lt;br /&gt;36. my laptop&lt;br /&gt;35. coupons&lt;br /&gt;34. getting ready for company&lt;br /&gt;33. my husband takes such good care of his parents&lt;br /&gt;32. a good nights sleep&lt;br /&gt;31. make ahead meals&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-9066141343527280760?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/9066141343527280760/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=9066141343527280760" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/9066141343527280760?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/9066141343527280760?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/gratitude_19.html" title="Gratitude" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cHQH0-eCp7ImA9Wx9TEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-38768366953308035</id><published>2010-11-19T17:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T18:10:31.350-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-19T18:10:31.350-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="homemaking" /><title>Confessions of a bad housekeeper</title><content type="html">I saw the funniest cartoon once. A mother walked in with a basket of clothes and said"Now the laundry is all done." The entire family were just wearing towels. I have felt like that mother, it seems impossible to get it all done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I have had all the rooms in my house clean at the same time . If we work on the upstairs it trickles down. And all the laundry is never all done. Even if I get caught up in the morning once 11 people take  showers it piled up again. Oh my, if the flu hits, its time to go to the laundry mat or risk never catching up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started cleaning out my kitchen cupboards a month ago. Each time I start I straighten up what I have done and then hopefully proceed before time runs out. I'm still not finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our dishwasher runs constantly. Do you know how many dishes it takes to make a meal for a family of 11? I know holiday meals that people have are not that many. My children went to the dentist this week and the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;hygienist&lt;/span&gt; was so nervous about making dinner for 6 it was hard not to say anything, let alone not laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love having a large family, but I love having a clean house too. I am wondering if the two are &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;incompatible&lt;/span&gt;? Especially with a sick mom and children doing most of the work at this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am much better than I was. My &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dh&lt;/span&gt; lived by himself when we got married. I had two children. So he went from himself to a family of 4. When we moved stuff he took down my Christmas tree. It was the last week in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;February&lt;/span&gt;. We had boxes for aisles for months. At least I knew how to cook. He gained weight our first year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am working on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;decluttering&lt;/span&gt; and cleaning. I have seen Don &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Asslett&lt;/span&gt; videos, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Flylady's&lt;/span&gt; email list,  read the Speed Cleaning book and the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;messies&lt;/span&gt; manual. I keep seeing improvement but I have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; not arrived. Maybe one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My children have asked again what I want for Christmas. I have the same answer for Mother's day and my birthday and Christmas. The house all cleaned and no children fighting. They usually laugh. I do know one day it will happen. But I think the house will be clean, but also too quiet. There won't be as many dishes or laundry because there won't be as many home. The floor won't have to be swept several times a day because there won;t be as many small or big feet running on it. So I'll still work on getting my house cleaner but I will remember why it's so hard to keep up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-38768366953308035?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/38768366953308035/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=38768366953308035" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/38768366953308035?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/38768366953308035?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/confessions-of-bad-housekeeper.html" title="Confessions of a bad housekeeper" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4HQ388eSp7ImA9Wx5aGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-5789855278561183356</id><published>2010-11-15T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T19:42:12.171-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-15T19:42:12.171-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="homemaking" /><title>Minimizing books</title><content type="html">Since I have been having trouble with my asthma and allergies I have been trying to minimize, declutter, get rid of stuff, etc.  We started by moving all the books out of our room. Still allergies. So I have been getting drastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got rid of all the books and one bookcase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Full. Hundreds of books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This bookcase was 8 feet tall and 6 feet wide and full top to bottom with books. It was so hard. I love books. But I love being healthy more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; And you know what? It looks great. So much more spacious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decluttered the rest of the room too. Dvd's pictures, knick knacks. It is so nice and clean and I am glad to have done it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do still have one bookcase with books in it. But all the new books are kindle so no dust.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-5789855278561183356?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/5789855278561183356/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=5789855278561183356" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/5789855278561183356?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/5789855278561183356?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/minimizing-books.html" title="Minimizing books" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMFRnsyeyp7ImA9Wx5aGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-5120844136235086730</id><published>2010-11-15T19:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T19:33:37.593-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-15T19:33:37.593-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gratitude" /><title>Gratitude</title><content type="html">30. Mom's Night Out&lt;br /&gt;29. Red Paint&lt;br /&gt;28. Smell of hot bread&lt;br /&gt;27. Sharing jewlery with my daughters&lt;br /&gt;26. a clean living room&lt;br /&gt;25. Shiny waxed floors&lt;br /&gt;24. A running hug that almost knocks me over when I get home&lt;br /&gt;23. A beautiful fall day&lt;br /&gt;22. The smell of fresh sheets off the line&lt;br /&gt;21. A new book&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-5120844136235086730?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/5120844136235086730/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=5120844136235086730" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/5120844136235086730?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/5120844136235086730?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/gratitude_15.html" title="Gratitude" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UCSH8_eCp7ImA9Wx5aFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-1480526390818397320</id><published>2010-11-08T03:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T13:34:29.140-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-11T13:34:29.140-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children" /><title>The power of touch</title><content type="html">It is so easy to go through the days with the hugs and kisses from the little ones in the house and be so overwhelmed with kisses that I can neglect it with the older ones unless I am thinking about it. My 3 that are 10 and under come up to me every day with hugs, kisses and cuddles. Right now my 7 and 4 year olds are there a lot since they are a little insecure about Mom being sick and have been in the hospital and away from them. Serene would sit most of her time right next to me, on top of me even to be as close as possible. So I have been making a point of giving my older children extra attention too. My 2 older sons 12 and 14 next week aren't as demonstrative unless I initiate it. I pat them on the back or shoulder, give them hugs, ask for a kiss and give them one when they or I am leaving, ruffle their hair. I can see them responding even thought they were still at first. How did I get out of the habit? By not making it a priority, I was getting all the hugs from the younger group and didn't notice. I have to tell you though it isn't as easy as it sounds. I have checklists to get thought the day, right now I am very forgetful. So I have my children on a checklist for me too. Did I say something positive to encourage this child today? Did I hug him or her? Which one needs some special mom time? I have to write it down or I forget. Some would thing it is because I have 10 children but I wasn't always this forgetful. My husband thinks it's all the meds I'm on. And yes, I have him on the list too. With older daughters it is easier, they accept hugs easier although one daughter I always have to point to my cheek at night after I hug and kiss her for a kiss back. She just grins and kisses me. I know she loves me , she is my daughter who is always bringing me hot tea too. So try and make the effort if you've gotten out of the habit. Older children need this too but just don't want to show it. I have so many things pulling at my time and energy this can easily fall by the wayside if I don't plan for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-1480526390818397320?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/1480526390818397320/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=1480526390818397320" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/1480526390818397320?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/1480526390818397320?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/power-of-touch.html" title="The power of touch" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UARHk4fCp7ImA9Wx5aFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-367291103049536615</id><published>2010-11-08T03:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T13:34:05.734-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-11T13:34:05.734-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gratitude" /><title>Gratitude</title><content type="html">20. A hot cup of tea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Wonderful healthy meals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. God's written Word&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Listening to my children read&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. 7 wonderful daughters to laugh with and talk to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.3 wonderful sons who are so helpful and kind to their mother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Sunrise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. A beautifully set table&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Smelling the fragrant banana bread my daughter is baking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Naps ( for me not the children) :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. My Mom's daily phone calls&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-367291103049536615?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/367291103049536615/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=367291103049536615" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/367291103049536615?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/367291103049536615?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/gratitude.html" title="Gratitude" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEEQH48fyp7ImA9Wx5aE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-5968458066260898555</id><published>2010-11-08T03:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T04:10:01.077-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-09T04:10:01.077-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gratitude" /><title>Gratitude and Blessings</title><content type="html">These are some things I am so grateful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Being able to read to my children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Watching my 4 year old sleep (it's the only time he's still)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Little arms wrapped around me in hugs to make me well, (big arms too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. To be able to sing even if I can not long always follow the tune, or talk afterwards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.10 wonderful healthy children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The ability to take a deep breathe this morning without coughing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My husband who in the last year has had a wife in much more sickness than health&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.My family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Christ's sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. God's Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-5968458066260898555?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/5968458066260898555/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=5968458066260898555" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/5968458066260898555?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/5968458066260898555?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/gratitude-and-blessings.html" title="Gratitude and Blessings" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYAQno7cSp7ImA9Wx5aEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-8776894897084562819</id><published>2010-11-08T02:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T03:02:23.409-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-08T03:02:23.409-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gratitude" /><title>Counting my Blessings</title><content type="html">I have had a lot of time of last night, this morning, to think... pray...(iv steroids are not conductive to sleep :-).) My daughter even suggested counting sheep. When I got to 1009 I &lt;em&gt;finally &lt;/em&gt;thought I could do a lot better than that. One song I remember my Grandmother singing is Count your Blessings. I have so many even in the midst of this health crisis I can look for the blessings. My daughter has made gifts of gratitude journals so I have decided to do the same. I thought if I could count sheep there had to be at least that many things I am greatful for. Don't worry I won't list them all at once. But first,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Count Your Many Blessings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When upon life's billows you are temptest tossed,&lt;br /&gt;When you are discouraged thinking all is lost,&lt;br /&gt;Count your many blessings, name then one by one.&lt;br /&gt;And if will surprise you what the Lord hath done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain&lt;br /&gt;Count your blessings, name them one by one.&lt;br /&gt;Count your blessings, see what God hath done!&lt;br /&gt;Count your blessings, name them one by one.&lt;br /&gt;Count your many blessings,  see what God hath done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you ever burdened with a load of care,&lt;br /&gt;Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bear?&lt;br /&gt;Count your many blessings, every doubt will fly.&lt;br /&gt;And you will keep singing as the days go by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you look at others with their lands and gold,&lt;br /&gt;Think that Christ has promised you His wealth untold,&lt;br /&gt;Count your many blessings- wealth can never buy.&lt;br /&gt;Your reward in heaven, nor you home on high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, amid the conflict whether great or small,&lt;br /&gt;Do not be discouraged, God is over all;&lt;br /&gt;Count your many blessings, angels will attend,&lt;br /&gt;Help and confort give you till your journey's end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-8776894897084562819?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/8776894897084562819/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=8776894897084562819" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/8776894897084562819?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/8776894897084562819?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/counting-my-blessings.html" title="Counting my Blessings" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcAQXw5cCp7ImA9Wx5aEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-5211843410106373434</id><published>2010-11-07T19:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T19:14:00.228-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-07T19:14:00.228-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>An Attitude of Blessings</title><content type="html">I have a choice on how I decide to view whatever happens. I can chose to look at it as a blessing or as not. This weekend I spent 2 evenings in the ER. That was not how I would have chosen to have spent them but I am &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;choosing&lt;/span&gt; to be thankful that medical care is nearby and available should  be needed. I am thankful at how kind the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dr's&lt;/span&gt; and nursed were there.  And that I could go home and spend tonight in my own bed. I would, should be sleeping but one of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; causes insomnia so I guess I have time to write this blog. Our circumstances may vary but each one of us can choose how to view them. Is your glass half empty or full. I have a member of my family that this is hard for and I am &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;accused&lt;/span&gt; of walking with rose colored glasses. But  I like the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;color&lt;/span&gt; rose so I think I'll stick with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-5211843410106373434?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/5211843410106373434/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=5211843410106373434" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/5211843410106373434?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/5211843410106373434?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/11/attitude-of-blessings.html" title="An Attitude of Blessings" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EBQ30_eip7ImA9Wx5WEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-6164125165680047441</id><published>2010-09-23T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T12:54:12.342-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-23T12:54:12.342-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="homemaking" /><title>Filling My Own Tank</title><content type="html">&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Because You are My Help. I Will Sing in the Shadow of Your Wings. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Psalms 63:7&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love early mornings. I am a "morning" person, I do naturally wake up early and get a lot more done then than any other part of the day. But that is not the main reason I like them. This is the time I fill my own tank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rise early, get dressed and a cup of hot tea and have time with the Lord. I read my Bible, prayer for my family and even sing, although quietly. Many times people have heard I have 10 children and ask "How do you do it?"  This is how, I make time for me, before anyone else is up and fill up, so I have something to give to my family. Sometimes I have time for other things, exercise (although not right now), email, writing, phone calls; but I make time for me first,  before any one else is awake. I have been learning if I don't take care of me I can't do a good job of taking care of anyone else. So I put this first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-6164125165680047441?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/6164125165680047441/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=6164125165680047441" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/6164125165680047441?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/6164125165680047441?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/09/filling-my-own-tank.html" title="Filling My Own Tank" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEGR3o7cCp7ImA9Wx5WEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-6685995324179343784</id><published>2010-09-21T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T16:43:46.408-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-21T16:43:46.408-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>My Refuge and Strength</title><content type="html">&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;God is my refuge and my strength;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;an ever-present help in a time of trouble.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Psalm 46:1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I spent 4 days last week in the hospital. Severe asthma, bronchitis, sinusitis, iv steroids. I have had enough steroids to make the Incredible Hulk seem benign. And this is the 2&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; time in the hospital in just over 3 months. The hospital was a safe place to be and recuperate, a refuge. But my refuge, Who I run to over and over is not a place but a Person. My God. I have not been strong through this but He is. I struggled simply to breathe. God can do all. When I struggle to breathe the thoughts are fairly consuming with all God can do. That even though hospitals are a great help, He is my Healer. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jehovah &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Rophi&lt;/span&gt;- God Who Heals.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever-present- I need to make God present in every thought , not just when sick or in times of trouble, although that is an easy time to think of Him. Didn't we as children run to Mom or Dad when we had a problem? Why is it so easy to just go on with our days without a thought when things are going well? Why do I want to be so self sufficient? What about God sufficient?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan on using this time to be more ever present of God, His Strength; my refuge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-6685995324179343784?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/6685995324179343784/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=6685995324179343784" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/6685995324179343784?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/6685995324179343784?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-refuge-and-strength.html" title="My Refuge and Strength" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QHSH0-fCp7ImA9WxFaGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-495237213718297906</id><published>2010-07-23T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T11:55:39.354-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-23T11:55:39.354-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food for thought" /><title>Schedules and order- mine or His</title><content type="html">I love lists and schedules. You can ask my family; I have numerous notebooks. My documents has files just for past schedules. I have a palm pilot, a datebook and a calender. I have post-it notes and clipping inside my cupboard doors and taped to doors. I love the order of it. Of having plans made and &lt;em&gt;followed? &lt;/em&gt;But they don't always work. Kids get sick, or in our house Mom is the one to get sick more often. Interruption's happen; the phone rings, someone stops by or a child just &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;has&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; to show you this &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;right now!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; But these are &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;my&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;plans, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;my&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; lists. I have been pondering a quote from a book for a few days now and trying to piece this into my life for what God wants. But maybe that is what is wrong. I can't piece in what I want from God, He wants the whole pie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The Lord is beckoning to me to rest in Him--to cease striving and allow Him to order my day. I had unknowingly placed more trust in my ability to manage than in God's plan for my life. I had allowed schedules and expectations to replace the assurance that God's Grace was sufficient - always and no matter what."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lorraine Curry-Easy homeschooling Companion&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So as a busy wife, mom, homeschool teacher, daughter, and homemaker  as I juggle all these roles I must also remember I have a role as a follower of Christ. And even though it is the quietest, it is also the most important. And while He doesn't clamor for attention, He still wants it but just quietly waits until I come to Him. And rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-495237213718297906?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/495237213718297906/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=495237213718297906" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/495237213718297906?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/495237213718297906?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/07/schedules-and-order-mine-or-his.html" title="Schedules and order- mine or His" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAARnw6fSp7ImA9WxFaF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-8183031348804546856</id><published>2010-07-21T04:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T08:39:07.215-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-21T08:39:07.215-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funnies" /><title>When I'm an Old Lady</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="left"&gt;I heard this poem on a Nancy Cambell cd and was able to find it. I love it, It reminds me of all the busy and wonderful things they did and I have told mine repeatedly someday when I am old I am staying with each of them 5 weeks a year. ( 10 children times 5 weeks just about covers that) Please enjoy this. Maybe, I shouldn't show this to them just yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When I'm an Old Lady&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;by &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Joanne Baily Baxter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When I'm an old lady, I'll live with each kid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And bring so much happiness just as they did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want to bring back all the joy they've provided.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Returning each deed! Oh, they;ll be so excited!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(When I'm and old lady and live with my kids.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll write on the walls with reds, whites and blues.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And bounce on the furniture....wearing my shoes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll stuff all the toilets and Oh, how they'll shout.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(When I'm and old lady and live with my kids.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When they're on the phone and just out of reach&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll get into things like sugar and bleach.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, they'll snap their fingers and then shake their heads.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And when that is done, I'll hide under the bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When they cook dinner and call me to eat,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll not eat my green beans or salad or meat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And when they get angry...I'll run...if I'm able.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(When I'm and old lady and live with my kids.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll sit close to the TV, through the channels I'll click.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll cross both my eyes, just to see if they stick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll take off my socks, and throw one away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And play in the mud "till the end of the day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And later in bed, I'll lay back and sigh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll thank God in prayer and then close my eyes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My kids will look down with a smile slowly creeping.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And say with a groan, "She so sweet when she's sleeping."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-8183031348804546856?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/8183031348804546856/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=8183031348804546856" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/8183031348804546856?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/8183031348804546856?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/07/when-im-and-old-lady.html" title="When I'm an Old Lady" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08DQngzfCp7ImA9WxFbFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-8100954232554547084</id><published>2010-07-09T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T08:37:53.684-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-09T08:37:53.684-07:00</app:edited><title>We The People</title><content type="html">&lt;object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/JVAhr4hZDJE/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JVAhr4hZDJE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JVAhr4hZDJE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-8100954232554547084?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/8100954232554547084/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=8100954232554547084" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/8100954232554547084?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/8100954232554547084?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/07/we-people.html" title="We The People" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8EQn4zfip7ImA9WxFbE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-3521177739253985881</id><published>2010-07-04T21:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T22:13:23.086-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-04T22:13:23.086-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="projects" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children" /><title>The roof - think and improvise</title><content type="html">Well, we now have boys that know how to put on a roof. Although it is a very small one compared to a house, the skills are the same. My husband taught them to tear off the old roof. Then they had fun using a chalk line to mark the rows for shingles. The only part they found hard was the peak as it was quite steep. Both for getting the roof off and getting the new one on.&lt;br /&gt;We went out to this sight. We only caught a small part on video but when asked what he was doing- he said my husband's  favorite saying; think and improvise!&lt;br /&gt;He has a tie down strap that he fastened to the telephone pole to keep himself from falling off the roof! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;btw&lt;/span&gt;, it was his very thoughtful big sister who was giving him such horrid advice.  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&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-3521177739253985881?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/3521177739253985881/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=3521177739253985881" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/3521177739253985881?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/3521177739253985881?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/07/roof-think-and-improvise.html" title="The roof - think and improvise" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UNQ3s8fip7ImA9WxFbE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-566629180420067813</id><published>2010-07-04T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T21:48:12.576-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-04T21:48:12.576-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="projects" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children" /><title>Our "Free" Playhouse</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TDFi6c1JUcI/AAAAAAAAAE8/1n3-emW_6Zw/s1600/100_3347.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490278177052381634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TDFi6c1JUcI/AAAAAAAAAE8/1n3-emW_6Zw/s320/100_3347.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We got this wonderful playhouse for our children on craigslist. It just needed a little TLC. Translation-$$$$&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TDFi57OEiAI/AAAAAAAAAE0/_FOGodMrWa8/s1600/100_3345.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490278168030119938" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TDFi57OEiAI/AAAAAAAAAE0/_FOGodMrWa8/s320/100_3345.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They are having so much fun fixing it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TDFh2xvnBYI/AAAAAAAAAEc/1JnnwyTIWcM/s1600/Picture+072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490277014435202434" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TDFh2xvnBYI/AAAAAAAAAEc/1JnnwyTIWcM/s320/Picture+072.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TDFh2b99TYI/AAAAAAAAAEU/MImAQUfMKjc/s1600/Picture+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490277008589802882" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TDFh2b99TYI/AAAAAAAAAEU/MImAQUfMKjc/s320/Picture+073.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the before pictures. We gutted the inside and the windows since it had lead paint. The boys pulled up all the carpeting and next step the roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/4126800416975668588-566629180420067813?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/566629180420067813/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=566629180420067813" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/566629180420067813?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/566629180420067813?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/07/our-free-playhouse.html" title="Our &quot;Free&quot; Playhouse" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/TDFi6c1JUcI/AAAAAAAAAE8/1n3-emW_6Zw/s72-c/100_3347.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUBQns4fCp7ImA9WxFVGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-3610016631177982641</id><published>2010-06-19T08:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T09:00:53.534-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-19T09:00:53.534-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><title>Health and rest</title><content type="html">I got out of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;hospital&lt;/span&gt; a week ago today and I can't believe how tired I still am. I went into the hospital for iv steroids to build my lungs back up. I had acute &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;bronchitis&lt;/span&gt;, acute &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ash ma&lt;/span&gt; and acute &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sinusitis&lt;/span&gt;.  I have been sick off and on, (mostly on) since March with these same things and finally saw an allergist for them. By my 3rd visit in a week to her I was in the hospital.  I do feel better than I have in months. I can take a deep breath without coughing. I am not wheezing when I walk, move, etc. I found out by the time you are wheezing your airways are already 80-90% &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;abstructed&lt;/span&gt;. So it was no wonder I was tired, I had so little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;oxygen&lt;/span&gt;. I have had 7 rounds of antibiotics and 7 rounds of steroids before this and it got a little better and then worse again. So into the hospital I went on iv steroids and I feel so much better. But there are a lot of lifestyle, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;environment&lt;/span&gt; changes that need to be done too. We have to keep our house at 71 or less. We needed to get 2 dehumidifiers to keep the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;humidity&lt;/span&gt; level at 40% or less. We needed a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;HEPA&lt;/span&gt; air filter for the bedroom. Thankfully, we already had all hard floors downstairs so we didn't have to pull up carpeting. We had to enclose our &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;mattress&lt;/span&gt; in an allergy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;mattress&lt;/span&gt; cover. We had to move all books and papers and shoes out of our bedroom. That was a huge job as we had an 8 ft long floor to ceiling bookcase in our room. And dust more, sweep more, etc.  And I could not help with any of it. I still can't. I am not to do housework for a month. Now my daughter told me she would be doing a happy dance if she was told not to do housework. I just feel &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;guiltily&lt;/span&gt; about everyone doing my work. Right now my job I was told is to rest.  My &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt; told me if medicine would cure everyone &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;drs&lt;/span&gt; would never be sick and live to a 100. Rest is the best medicine. This morning I straightened my room, made the bed, cleared off the top of the microwave and put a turkey on to cook &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; I was so tired I laid down to take a nap after that. That's not much. And I couldn't believe that was all it took to tire me out. So I will rest and try to return to health.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-3610016631177982641?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/3610016631177982641/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=3610016631177982641" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/3610016631177982641?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/3610016631177982641?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/06/health-and-rest.html" title="Health and rest" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAASXY_fyp7ImA9WxBaFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-6086428166325196771</id><published>2010-03-25T04:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T05:05:48.847-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-25T05:05:48.847-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="projects" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children" /><title>The house the children built</title><content type="html">&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452538726601927298" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6tPFUMrKoI/AAAAAAAAAEE/6xrYHy59wHs/s400/Picture+2241.jpg" /&gt;Last year during spring break, my children wanted to build a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;treehouse&lt;/span&gt; to play in. I didn't want them climbing the apple tree to build in so they built a play house/fort instead. The name depended on whether you asked the boys or the girls. I thought it would fall down in a day or so. But it was good experience and kept them busy and productive. I also limited them on hand tools only. The boys weren't quite happy with that but they managed. Sam was in charge cutting the boards to the same &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;length&lt;/span&gt;. Remember they are using scrap lumber so it was all very uneven. What I thought would be a week long project only took them 2 days, They were out there morning until night as long as I would let them. I kept them supplies with drinks and snacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And they kept busy. And no fighting either. Since they all had so much to do they got a long quite well. I think that is one of the secrets to harmonious living, a common goal and lots to do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They used a blanket for a door and my husband thought 10 pounds of nails. ( He went out one night after they went to sleep and either pounded or cut off the ends with a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dremel&lt;/span&gt; tool. It took him 2 hours. It also lasted over 2 months. They had quite a good time until a huge storm came, I also think it had a little help falling down. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They learned a lot from this playtime. They used both math and construction skills. I knew they were listening when helping their father because they had no help with this at all. From the plans? to finding a door they did it all on their own. They learned teamwork.  My oldest son said the best part was building it and now wants to do it again. He learned leadership and that it doesn't mean the same as bossiness or he would have trouble getting anyone to work with him. All in all it was a good experience that I hope to repeat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/4126800416975668588-6086428166325196771?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/6086428166325196771/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=6086428166325196771" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/6086428166325196771?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/6086428166325196771?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/03/house-children-built.html" title="The house the children built" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6tPFUMrKoI/AAAAAAAAAEE/6xrYHy59wHs/s72-c/Picture+2241.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUHR349fip7ImA9WxBaFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-3596834387746906994</id><published>2010-03-25T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T18:33:56.066-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-25T18:33:56.066-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="projects" /><title>DIY Jewlery Organizer</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6wO5i3w2nI/AAAAAAAAAEM/L6m0-IScG3M/s1600/Picture+3120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452749630614854258" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6wO5i3w2nI/AAAAAAAAAEM/L6m0-IScG3M/s320/Picture+3120.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I was looking for jobs I could do easily sitting. I'm still sick so I'm trying to take it easy and still get something done. I reorganized all my sewing drawers in my sewing machine cabinet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;decided&lt;/span&gt; to go through my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;jewelry&lt;/span&gt; and sort it. I had it in a traveling &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;jewelry&lt;/span&gt; pouch with little pocket but things were sometimes hard to find and get to. So I had both a frame and a shelf I liked and since the shelf already had &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;primitive&lt;/span&gt; nails for hanging things, it was a match. First I found some lace in my newly cleaned sewing drawers. Then I took the glass and picture from the frame and staples lace to the back. I left part of the bottom open for bracelets. Then the fun? part came. My daughter helped me sort all the earrings and the rest of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;jewelery&lt;/span&gt;.I say rest because most of it was earrings. It is bittersweet but I am no longer a mommy of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;toddlers&lt;/span&gt; and babies. I have had babies and toddlers for 15 years straight and they always &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;wanted&lt;/span&gt; to play, pull the necklaces so I rarely wore them. So mostly it was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;earrings&lt;/span&gt;. I gave some the the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;jewelry&lt;/span&gt; I didn't wear to my 2 younger daughters to play dress up with. They were quite happy and the hanging &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;jewelry&lt;/span&gt; holder for Polly Pocket clothes. I put all the earrings on the lace. Fastened bracelets and watches around the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;bottom&lt;/span&gt; of the frame and hung the necklaces from the nails. I put a small crystal dish for rings and earrings I have lost the backs for. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Great, now to hang on the wall. I love how pretty it looks and how easy it is to find just the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;jewelry&lt;/span&gt; I want to go with any outfit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-3596834387746906994?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/3596834387746906994/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=3596834387746906994" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/3596834387746906994?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/3596834387746906994?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/03/diy-jewlery-organizer.html" title="DIY Jewlery Organizer" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6wO5i3w2nI/AAAAAAAAAEM/L6m0-IScG3M/s72-c/Picture+3120.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcFQng4fCp7ImA9WxBaFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-4112877797371622175</id><published>2010-03-24T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T10:33:33.634-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-24T10:33:33.634-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="thoughts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children" /><title>Training Children in Quiet</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6pJBK-eVXI/AAAAAAAAADs/oIcViq_ysDg/s1600/Set70_02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452250583360492914" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6pJBK-eVXI/AAAAAAAAADs/oIcViq_ysDg/s400/Set70_02.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It can be so easy to call to our children to tell them to do this or that. To have them change what they are doing or not by directing them by command or statement. But most excellent parents I know I don't hear these from them. It is almost imperceptible how they are directing their children. A look, a nod in one direction and the child goes off and does what is needed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did you know the best horse trainers you can almost never see them directing their horse. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;A nudge&lt;/span&gt; with a knee, a slight pull on the reigns and this animal knows where it is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;supposed&lt;/span&gt; to go. Now I am not saying our children should be trained like animals, far from it. But it this behavior can be trained in horses, than how much better are children can be in this area.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, the parents I spoke of did not get this way overnight.  It took training when they were young and at home. I know other mothers who don't think children can sit in church. But I know it can be done. However, we don't practice at church, we practice first at home. I remember many times either my husband and I watching our younger children that we put in a row on the couch with a talking tape on and they practiced &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;siting&lt;/span&gt;, and not squirming.  But they were quite able to manage it. Even at a young age. We have also practiced blanket time and quiet time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right now we (or at least I) have a lot of quiet time in our home. Because I again have laryngitis. So I am practicing directing my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;children&lt;/span&gt; quietly. With most of them it is working well. We still have  holdout but mama is more &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;stubborn&lt;/span&gt; than he is so we will continue working at it. This is not just for my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;benefit&lt;/span&gt;, or the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;benefit&lt;/span&gt; of having a quieter home. Although with 10 people living here it is seldom quiet. Even soft voices multiplies by 10 is still noisy. This is for their &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;benefit&lt;/span&gt;. Because if they can't hear mom's quiet voice, how will they hear God's. And that is the voice I want them to ultimately listen for and hear.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4126800416975668588-4112877797371622175?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/4112877797371622175/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=4112877797371622175" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/4112877797371622175?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/4112877797371622175?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/03/training-children-in-quiet.html" title="Training Children in Quiet" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6pJBK-eVXI/AAAAAAAAADs/oIcViq_ysDg/s72-c/Set70_02.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYAR304fip7ImA9WxBaEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4126800416975668588.post-7434679753411513467</id><published>2010-03-21T05:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T05:55:46.336-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-21T05:55:46.336-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daybook" /><title>Simple Women's Daybook</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6YW8AdgwEI/AAAAAAAAADk/02uCcYkT3R0/s1600-h/Z+Man+153.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451069619150307394" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6YW8AdgwEI/AAAAAAAAADk/02uCcYkT3R0/s400/Z+Man+153.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For Today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Outside my Window I see crocuses peeking up from the grass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thinking how glad I will be when spring is here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for a husband who cooks breakfast while I talk to my Mom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;From the kitchen I smell bacon and eggs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am wearing jeans and a tshirt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am creating pillows for the daybed in the living room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am going to the fabric store later for more fabric for pillows with my youngest daughter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am reading First We Have Coffee, one of my favorite books. Mama Tweten is such a Godly example of Christian womenhood and to me. "ven we have vroom in the heart, ve have vroom in the house." It doesn't matter the size of your house as much as your heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am hoping to get a lot done today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am hearing birds chirping outside. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Around the house, we are rearranging living room furniture after painting yesterday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my favorite things is hearing my children work together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few plans for the rest of the week, sew, hopefully read aloud (if I get my voice back), paint the bathroom door with chalkboard paint.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is a picture I am sharing of Rachael.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For more daybooks go to &lt;a href="http://www.thesimplewomensdaybook.blogspot.com/"&gt;www.thesimplewomensdaybook.blogspot.com&lt;/a&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/4126800416975668588-7434679753411513467?l=keepingahome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/feeds/7434679753411513467/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4126800416975668588&amp;postID=7434679753411513467" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/7434679753411513467?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4126800416975668588/posts/default/7434679753411513467?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keepingahome.blogspot.com/2010/03/simple-womens-daybook.html" title="Simple Women's Daybook" /><author><name>In My Home</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131399377681713402</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jRmit8-rxt8/S6YW8AdgwEI/AAAAAAAAADk/02uCcYkT3R0/s72-c/Z+Man+153.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>

