<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057</id><updated>2011-12-21T01:29:11.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Storytelling</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-8209115666788980421</id><published>2011-07-08T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T09:28:17.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stalker</title><content type='html'>Do you know or have you met all the people whose blogs you follow? I haven't. Friends recommend this or that blog or I find a link to a blog or random blogs come up in a google search. Anyway, I read alot of blogs written by people I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this make me a stalker? I kinda feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago I saw this girl at the country club who writes a blog in Lubbock. She attends my &lt;a href="http://jacobandgeorgia.blogspot.com/"&gt;friends'&lt;/a&gt; church and is good friends with one of my good friends' brother. Make sense? Good. Anyway, I walked on over and introduced myself and explained how I found her blog thru &lt;a href="http://www.saraspartyperfect.com/"&gt;Party Perfect&lt;/a&gt; and then stayed interested because she lives in Lubbock and we know alot of the same people. She might be shy...or she thought I was a stalker. She said, "Okaaaay." And smiled. That was it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the fall I was leaving the grocery store and saw this man get out of his car with a little boy. I knew that I should know them but couldn't place them. Then here comes the mom and one of her adopted babies that she's been blogging about. I knew instantly who they were and were so surprised to see them in my neighboring town because I honestly thought they were from Arkansas or Tennessee. I thought her blog was one I found through &lt;a href="http://www.kellyskornerblog.com/"&gt;Kelly's Korner&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://angiesmithonline.com/"&gt;Bring the Rain&lt;/a&gt; and couldn't believe she was from Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled and continued walking. Then turned right back around and walked up to her. I said, "This is so random..." then explained that I read her blog. She was very friendly and introduced me to her family. Then we went our separate ways. (She doesn't put alot of personal information on her blog like where she lives or her children's names or the church they attend. So I won't connect you to her to keep her privacy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago I saw her again at formal fundraiser but I was upstairs looking down from the balcony when I recognized her but was too far away and too high up to speak. Can you imagine? Me yelling from the second floor? "Hellllloooo? You! Down there! I read your blog!!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw her AGAIN yesterday... She was at the same grocery store with her kids. AND I didn't say anything!!! I smiled and admired the cuteness of her kids, albeit silently, and kept going. That makes me feel like a stalker. Watching from a distance...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure why I didn't say anything. I guess because I feel like I know alot about her and she's only seen/met me once and it was quick. in a parking lot. in the cold. a long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's stupid not to say anything. So I commented on her blog this morning explaining my 'situation' and apologized for not speaking and warning her that I would speak the next time I randomly see her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about you? Does reading random peoples blogs seem weird? Stalkish? Have you randomly met a one of these bloggers in real life?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-8209115666788980421?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/8209115666788980421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2011/07/stalker.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/8209115666788980421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/8209115666788980421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2011/07/stalker.html' title='Stalker'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-6781303456435751307</id><published>2011-06-22T15:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T15:00:50.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Single Girls</title><content type='html'>I'm linking this post up to &lt;a href="http://www.kellyskornerblog.com/"&gt;Kelly's Korner&lt;/a&gt; for her "Show Us Your Life - Singles". The point is for bloggers to use their own blogs to introduce "Singles" in their life and then link up to Kelly's blog so all the singles can browse thru the various posts. Kinda like &lt;a href="http://match.com/"&gt;Match.com.&lt;/a&gt; Apparently Kelly's blog has been successful. She's done this Singles thing twice and there's been one marriage and a proposal and maybe a few serious relationships. Anyway, I talked to TWO favorite Singles in my life and they said, "Why Not?" So without further ado, here's "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4m1EFMoRFvY"&gt;All My Single Ladies&lt;/a&gt;"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISCLAIMER - I imagine that it will be mostly girls reading these blogs and then calling their single guy friends to check out this or that blog about different girls. I had a hard time "marketing" my cousins as dating material versus really great girl friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm introducing you to Katy and Amanda. Both of these ladies are my cousins. One from my Mom's side and one from my Dad's side. Which means that though they are both so much alike they are not blood related! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621530565288678354" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TYxLSlM-RJU/TgOwQ9YIU9I/AAAAAAAAAH0/0s1bM7wuqYs/s320/DSC02570.JPG" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Amanda, me and Katy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;They both are intelligent independent women in their early thirties. Both girls were raised in loving Christian homes in Texas and inherited a legacy of faith in Jesus Christ. Katy and Amanda both have an incredible sense of humor and the ability to laugh at themselves. Travelling, reading and movies are things that they both enjoy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I could blabber on and on about all their wonderful qualities but I want to zero in on what makes them unique from each other and from other girls on today's 'Singles' posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621533536153927762" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Jr6pdgCyKkg/TgOy94tmgFI/AAAAAAAAAH8/8tFHq33E3oM/s320/katy.jpg" /&gt;Katy lives in Illinois but travels home to Texas frequently. All the kids in our family love their Auntie Kate who is never too busy to play with them. Katy is honest and creative. Her niece calls her "Fancy Fancy" as she's a fashionista by her own right. Katy is always up for fun and has great ideas for parties and get-togethers. She's a good hostess making people feel welcomed and at home. Katy gives the best advice whether it's for fashion, travel or how to deal with friends. She always seems to say exactly what I need to hear. Katy is a prayer warrior and one of those people that if I called and needed something she'd move heaven and earth to help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621529671028266194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PvMNtccJvl4/TgOvc5_1VNI/AAAAAAAAAHs/OUVrdMn4jbc/s320/Amanda.jpg" /&gt;Amanda lives in the DFW metroplex and has impeccable taste and style. She quite possibly has more friends than any person I know. People love to be around Amanda because she is an encourager and always makes people feel special. She spoils her nephews and helps so much when she's around our kids. I often hang up the phone after talking to Amanda and realize I know nothing of what's going on in her life because she'd asked me dozens of questions and I did all the talking. She genuinely has a servant's heart and not only recognizes a need but sees that it's met. She too, is a prayer warrior and will drop to her knees whenever asked.&lt;/p&gt;I can't begin to tell you how much I love these two chicas. I feel like these short descriptions are an injustice to them but I'm no author!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They deserve only the very best so losers need not reply. ha! But if you're interested leave a comment with your email and we'll be in touch!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-6781303456435751307?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/6781303456435751307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2011/06/two-single-girls.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6781303456435751307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6781303456435751307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2011/06/two-single-girls.html' title='Two Single Girls'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TYxLSlM-RJU/TgOwQ9YIU9I/AAAAAAAAAH0/0s1bM7wuqYs/s72-c/DSC02570.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-5776642146837847748</id><published>2011-05-04T10:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T11:09:09.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Look</title><content type='html'>So yesterday I played around a bit and gave the ole' blogaroo a facelift. I added the picture of the girls but I can't figure out for the life of me how to edit it and make it smaller. Maybe my teacher friend that is about to be out of school (and never going back in order to stay home with her baby, yea!) can fix it for me? Hello? Can you hear me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a bit uninspired to blog. It takes forever for me to add pictures and what's the point without pics, right? Anywho, I entered a giveaway today to win a blog makeover. Lord knows it's needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Luck to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-5776642146837847748?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/5776642146837847748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2011/05/new-look.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5776642146837847748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5776642146837847748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2011/05/new-look.html' title='New Look'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-4044328575478111271</id><published>2010-10-31T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T07:48:50.847-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Halloween</title><content type='html'>Today is Halloween.  It's on a Sunday.  I guess Halloween has fallen on a Sunday during my lifetime but I don't remember it.  I was hoping &lt;a href="http://stuffchristianslike.net/"&gt;Jon &lt;/a&gt;would blog a list of possible Sunday sermon topics around Halloween but he disappointingly didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're not at church today.  Chris is working and my upper lip has broken out in a joyous display of blisters.  Lovely.  I'm curious if anyone dressed up?  Adults, probably not.  Kids?  Possibly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up in a home that didn't 'celebrate' halloween.  We never went trick-or-treating instead getting to go to the movies.  A rare treat!  I did, however, get to dress up for school.  Never as anything scary like a witch or a goblin.  Just happy, cute costumes.  A valley girl, a California Raisen, an old lady, an Ace of Spades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Since Halloween wasn't a holiday in our house I was shocked by my Mother's reaction to a statement I made one night in our kitchen.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was often holier than thou.  Not something I'm proud of but I know I had my share of judgemental thoughts and words toward those less spiritual.  It was in this spiritual (overly so) attitude that I declared to my Mom and sister the night before Halloween that, "I hate Halloween.  It's the devil's day."  Instead of my Mom declaring this fact along with me and insisting that we should pray for those celebrating this pagan holiday she totally shocked me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pounding the kitchen counter she firmly stated, "&lt;strong&gt;I rebuke that in the name of Jesus.  THIS is the day the LORD has made.  I will rejoice and be GLAD in it&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was embarrassed.  I made my statement knowing she would whole-heartedly agree with me but instead she convicted me.  It IS the Lord's day.  Everyday is the Lord's day and we shouldn't give any acknowledgement to anything or anyone declaring otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't celebrate Halloween in our home now.  We participate.  The girls dress-up, we go to carnivals and tonight we're trick-or-treating.  We're not celebrating.  We're participating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISCLAIMER:  I know this comes across that my Mom and our home was uber-spiritual.  Where my Mom is a Christian and a spiritual mentor in my life she most certainly isn't uber-spiritual in the weird tamborine shaking snake charming kind of way.  She never had rebuked anything I said before.  This is why, now, we laugh at this event in our life.  It was meaningful and a life-lesson based on biblical principals.  BUT it is funny!  And we laugh about it every year and Mom blushes and laughs too!  So today when Mom comes over for a haircut I'll answer the door and proclaim, "This is the day the Lord has made."  She'll laugh and roll her eyes and then she'll kill me for posting this on my blog.  Love you, Mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-4044328575478111271?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/4044328575478111271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/10/happy-halloween.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/4044328575478111271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/4044328575478111271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/10/happy-halloween.html' title='Happy Halloween'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-2016198918938386322</id><published>2010-10-06T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T12:59:00.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three</title><content type='html'>Jencee:  Is it time to go yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  No - we aren't leaving 'til 7 and it's only 3.  So we have 4 hours before we can go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jencee:  3?  That's like me!!  And I'm almost 4...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-2016198918938386322?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/2016198918938386322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/10/three.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/2016198918938386322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/2016198918938386322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/10/three.html' title='Three'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-663519183732199039</id><published>2010-10-05T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T11:30:21.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Change of A Dress</title><content type='html'>I once received a card from a friend that had a clothes-line on the front with a variety of dresses hanging from it.  The inside of the card announced her new address.  She'd moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized that I never told the blog world that we moved, AGAIN!  I was just re-reading my New Year's 2010 &lt;a href="http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/welcome-2010.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt;.  I focused alot on my new home in Levelland.  We'd moved in.  Painted, carpeted, installed a gas log etc.  I was so proud of my home.  And proud that it felt like HOME for my little family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to May 2010.  We moved again!  To Odessa, Texas.  Before Levelland we lived in Midland for 8 years but Chris mostly worked in Odessa.  We moved to LLand for a great job opportunity with a bank we had been doing business with for a few years.  After being there for 9 months &lt;a href="https://www.aimbankonline.com/#/home"&gt;Aim Bank&lt;/a&gt; decided to open a Loan Production Office in Odessa and asked Chris to run it.  Soooo - here we are!  We moved May 18.  Our house in Levelland is STILL for sale ;( so pray it sells soon! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our new house is soooo lovely!  I L-O-V-E love it!  We don't have any major projects - like carpet or knocking down walls.  Just paint here and there.  I hope to post pics of all the rooms as we improve!  And it too feels like HOME.  Like it's mine!  And it feels permanent.  My sister, &lt;a href="http://hughesheart.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jennie&lt;/a&gt;, was recently here for a visit and as I was giving her a tour of our new home she said, "This is YOUR house.  You realize that, right?"  She new that it was a perfect fit for us! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Odessa has been so good for us!  We swam all Summer - when we were home!  We've made lots of new friends and been able to catch up with some old ones.  We really like being back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-663519183732199039?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/663519183732199039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/10/change-of-dress.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/663519183732199039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/663519183732199039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/10/change-of-dress.html' title='Change of A Dress'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-6953732898595903225</id><published>2010-08-23T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T19:05:33.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pillows</title><content type='html'>I bought some pillows one day last week for my living room. I like them. They're not perfect but they basically with go with my stuff and they're bright and fun. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508789279767665698" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/THMmqcMIHCI/AAAAAAAAAGw/HACNSnhDC5U/s320/photo.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since they aren't perfect I decided to go back to Target today to see if there was anything else that would work better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found something better alright. My pillows on clearance. At lease $5 off the price I paid. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508789632076610162" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/THMm-8pH-nI/AAAAAAAAAG4/2o_bjbUUfJI/s320/pillow" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know at GAP that if you buy something and it then goes on sale within like 5-7 days then you can take in your receipt and get the credit back. I asked if they would offer me the same service. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I was told that if I returned the original pillows that I would get full price back and then should just purchase the pillows on clearance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a better idea. I had my original receipt in my purse so I thought I'd purchase the pillows on clearance and then go directly to the service counter and use the clearance pillows with the original receipt to return them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It didn't work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shocker.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, now I have two sets of pillows and will have to trek back to Target tomorrow to return the original set. Since they are light in color I haven't let the kids touch them so they ARE unused. BUT, I did Scotch Guard them already! Shhhhh. We'll just look at it like I'm doing a service for the next customer! Right?&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/904955122261304057-6953732898595903225?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/6953732898595903225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/08/pillows.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6953732898595903225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6953732898595903225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/08/pillows.html' title='Pillows'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/THMmqcMIHCI/AAAAAAAAAGw/HACNSnhDC5U/s72-c/photo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-8024337805470464449</id><published>2010-08-22T19:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T19:43:28.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer's Over</title><content type='html'>I remember always being so sad that Summer was coming to an end and the school year was starting.  Of course up until about my Sophomore year in high school I couldn't wait for school to start.  But once I was 15ish the end of Summer was depressing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially in my adulthood...there was no more pretending I was a kid.  With adulthood comes too much responsibility to waste the Summer days away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never felt like I sucked every ounce out of June, July and August.  I felt like I needed more time by the pool.  More time on fun vacations.  More time sleeping late, reading books, playing outside, spending time with family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I feel with this Summer coming to a close?  Good, actually.  We played at the pool almost every chance we got.  We got to go as a family to a friends' ranch for a long weekend and also to Ruidoso without the kids.  I've read several good books and Chris has let me sleep late a few times.  We've gotten to see both sides of our families at a wedding, an anniversary party and a "photo shoot".  And finally, being in a new town we've made new friends and gotten to catch up with some old friends too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds like a pretty good Summer to me.  How was yours?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-8024337805470464449?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/8024337805470464449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/08/summers-over.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/8024337805470464449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/8024337805470464449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/08/summers-over.html' title='Summer&apos;s Over'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-7043991676948393837</id><published>2010-04-17T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T21:57:02.011-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sweetest Thing</title><content type='html'>It's been one of those days.  Two days actually.  Yesterday Marlee was fussy and clingy and I couldn't pacify her.  Today, Jencee threw a dozen fits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've typed and re-typed the sequence of events from today and all that happened with my ever fragile firstborn.  The fits aren't important.  What's important is that I didn't manage her or myself well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I roared at my kid.  "Stoooooop Crying!!!"  She was upset about wearing shoes.  I'd explained myself over and over and tried to reason with her.  "We are going to a birthday party and it's 50 degrees outside.  You. must. wear. shoes."  I ran out of patience and me yelling over her wailing wasn't working.  So, I roared, "Stoooooop Crying!!!".  Her fit was eventually over.  We went on with our day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, after I put the girls to bed I did my nightly routine of loading the dishwasher, picking up toys, checking email.  I ran across this &lt;a href="http://www.incourage.me/2010/04/what-every-family-really-needs-to-be-strong.html"&gt;blog post&lt;/a&gt; and was hit in the gut.  I cried.  I asked God to forgive me.  To grant me discipline in controlling my frustration.  To help me be a better Mom.  A better person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to see if Jencee was still awake so I could apologize.  She was on the floor outside her room waiting for permission to go potty.  I brought her to my chair and sat her in my lap and cried.  I said, "Mommy's sorry for yelling at you today."  She touched a tear running down my face and asked what it was (sounds dramatic but that's really how it happened :)).  I explained that it was tears and that I was sad.  I told her that it made Mommy's heart hurt that I had yelled at her.  I said in a quivering voice, "Mommy loves you very much."  She stared at me a moment and then gave me the biggest tightest hug. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was truly the sweetest thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sweetest act of love that filled my cup to overflowing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does a three year old know compassion?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-7043991676948393837?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/7043991676948393837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/04/sweetest-thing.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/7043991676948393837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/7043991676948393837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/04/sweetest-thing.html' title='The Sweetest Thing'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-5205864584129285878</id><published>2010-04-12T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T13:27:28.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They Say It's Your Birthday!</title><content type='html'>Why yes.  Yes it is! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thirty...ahem...one.  Or as Jencee says, "firty-one".  This morning as she was picking out her clothes she asked what she was going to wear to my party.  We were both a little disappointed that there will be no party. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.  I'm one of THOSE people who want to celebrate everything.  Including myself.  :) I always want an excuse to get together with anyone I love and eat and play! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were going to have a party for myself it would be Greek themed.  I'd fly all my friends and family to Greece where we'd all wear togas and skinny dip off the island of Santorini.  &lt;em&gt;(You think I'm kidding.  I'm not.  You had no idea what being a friend of mine required.  Don't worry - a Greek trip paid for by me is never gonna happen.  And I won't ask you to skinny dip anywhere other than Santorini.)  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If ever you are invited to a party for me you won't see 'No Gifts Please' printed delicately at the bottom of the invitation.  I say "Bring 'Em!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are wondering what gift you should get me for my birthday here are a few suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Flying me and all my family and friends to Greece&lt;br /&gt;-a makeover and all new makeup from Sephora&lt;br /&gt;-a new camera that downloads itself onto my computer&lt;br /&gt;-a $13,000 dental workover&lt;br /&gt;-Long, thick, wavy hair&lt;br /&gt;-a maid&lt;br /&gt;-a personal trainer&lt;br /&gt;-Reese Witherspoon to be my BFF&lt;br /&gt;-new outdoor furniture&lt;br /&gt;-a double oven&lt;br /&gt;-a kitchen-aid mixer in a saucy color&lt;br /&gt;-Ree Drummond to live in my house and cook for me and take pics of my kids&lt;br /&gt;-a new wardrobe (but I'll keep my shoes thank you very much)&lt;br /&gt;-stationary&lt;br /&gt;-a fully loaded Suburban with two tvs and a driver&lt;br /&gt;-a winning lottery ticket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few simple suggestions.  That's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all seriousness, I have everything I need and most of what I want.  My beautiful family is gift enough this birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT if you feel you must send a gift, email me and I'll forward you my address.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-5205864584129285878?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/5205864584129285878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/04/they-say-its-your-birthday.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5205864584129285878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5205864584129285878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/04/they-say-its-your-birthday.html' title='They Say It&apos;s Your Birthday!'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-3041979824914246751</id><published>2010-04-09T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T08:22:11.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So...</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in awhile. Why? There's so much that I want to blog about but then I don't. And then I feel like I can't blog about the next thing because I didn't post about the last thing. Make Sense? Perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wanted to do cute blogs all about my girls birthday parties...in January. My friend, Georgia blogged about Jencee's and &lt;a href="http://jacobandgeorgia.blogspot.com/search?q=jencee"&gt;Marlee's&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://jacobandgeorgia.blogspot.com/2010/01/first-birthday-2.html"&gt;parties&lt;/a&gt; and posted tons of pics...because she was my photographer for the day. Thanks G-rock. You, well, Rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would've really liked to have posted about the life and death of my &lt;a href="http://hughesheart.blogspot.com/2010/02/two-hearts.html"&gt;Uncle Bob&lt;/a&gt;. But my sister &lt;a href="http://hughesheart.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jennie&lt;/a&gt; wrote about it on her blog and she's a much more eloquent writer than I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never posted all of our Christmas stuff, my brother's homecoming or more about our trip to New Orleans. Do I go back??? I feel like I shouldn't move forward without covering what's behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But alas! I shall. I'll move forward forgetting about the past. Well, not forgetting altogether just in this blog world. At least so I can blog again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend recently posted, "Why do we blog, anyway?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Why, indeed?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-3041979824914246751?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/3041979824914246751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/04/so.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/3041979824914246751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/3041979824914246751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/04/so.html' title='So...'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-5712999213224704539</id><published>2010-03-05T12:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T12:00:02.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lent</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lent&lt;/strong&gt; - in Christian tradition, is the period of the liturgical year leading up to Easter. The traditional purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer - through prayer, penitence, alms giving and self-denial - for the annual commemoration during Holy Week of the Death and Resurrection of Jesus, which recalls the events linked to the Passion of Christ and culminates in Easter, the celebration for the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a few weeks ago but did you give anything up for lent? This is the first year that I've given something up. A friend had told me what she gave up last year and it struck a chord in me. So there I went and gave something up for lent for the first time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love to read. It lets me enter into a different world for a little while! I enjoy most genres of fiction with the exception of sci-fi. I mostly enjoy general Christian fiction or romance novels. I do not read novellas but a good romance is always nice to pass the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chris is an avid reader as well but he chooses more educational and challenging books. He reads alot of biographies, histories, economic type books while I sit reading my breezy romances. I just don't enjoy non-fiction or self-help books. I've invested in many non-fiction books but if I have a moment to read I want to be entertained rather than challenged. Yes - I realize that I'm missing out on inspiration and education but so be it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So for lent I gave up fiction. It hasn't been ridiculously hard but there have been lazy moments here and there that I wish I had a lazy book. Not only did I give up fiction but I challenged myself to read some of the "investments" that have been stacking up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What am I reading?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444602280693885986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S48c7XQKbCI/AAAAAAAAAGg/j10RsZySDz8/s320/Untitled.jpg" /&gt;I have also caught up on the magazines I've been stockpiling for months am reading a few gossip rags that I pick up at the Wal-Marts ;) or the grocery store.  Don't count on full book reports but so far I'm enjoying myself and learning a thing or two.  Go figure!&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/904955122261304057-5712999213224704539?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/5712999213224704539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/03/lent_05.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5712999213224704539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5712999213224704539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/03/lent_05.html' title='Lent'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S48c7XQKbCI/AAAAAAAAAGg/j10RsZySDz8/s72-c/Untitled.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-6570544725120062117</id><published>2010-03-04T12:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T12:00:03.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Degrees of Seperation</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago when I attended the Lisa Whelchel conference in Littlefield I rode the church bus along with several other women.  I sat with my good friend Aimee who had been the one to invite me to the "Young Mom's Bible Study" and whose daughter ,Sophie, is in Jencee's class at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along the way I think I mentioned to her that Chris was from Littlefield and that my in-laws still lived there.  She mentioned that her Dad had grown up in Littlefield.  I thought I might know the name since I've come to know alot of people from there and certainly heard alot of names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out her maiden name is Reese.  I asked if they were related to Peyton Reese.  Yes!  Peyton Reese was her &lt;strong&gt;grandfather's brother&lt;/strong&gt;.  She asked how I knew Peyton and I explained that Peyton was married to my &lt;strong&gt;grandfather's sister&lt;/strong&gt;!  My Papa had a sister named Chloie that died when my mother was just a baby but for whom my mom, Chloie Jan, is named after!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I excitedly explained this to Aimee and she informed me that her daughter's name is Sophie Chlo also after my great aunt!!!  We were excited to learn that we are cousins by marriage and that someone as wonderful as my great Aunt Chloie has two namesakes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-6570544725120062117?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/6570544725120062117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/03/six-degrees-of-seperation.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6570544725120062117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6570544725120062117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/03/six-degrees-of-seperation.html' title='Six Degrees of Seperation'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-5840122314346130911</id><published>2010-03-03T12:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T12:40:42.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fasting</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I got an email a few weeks ago discussing the benefits of fruit. It encouraged a three day Fruit Fast to cleanse your body. The benefits would be better digestion and radiant skin. (I thought it was good for water retention but I can't find that info now.) I like fruit and thought it would be a good kickstart to healthier eating. We all need more fruit in our diet right? So I decided to eat fruit and only fruit for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm a loser.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By Tuesday at 2pm I decided I must have more sustenance and ate some cheese and crackers. For dinner Tuesday I ate a single piece of stuffed pasta and pineapple. Wednesday morning? I at all things related to food. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In retrospect I probably should've skipped my workout Monday night and maybe I would've had more energy yesterday. And once I'd crossed the boundary last night I decided today shouldn't be any different. Like I said, I'm a loser.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you fast ever or often? I fasted from food and prayed every Monday from the middle of March 2009 until the end of December on behalf of my brother. He was in Iraq sacrificing for me and my country so I sacrificed food on Monday's for him. It became a good way to start the week spiritually and dietically (I like to make up words!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But after he got home in December I began eating again on Mondays. I've truly missed the focus it brought to my prayer life and have been thinking about what I could do to bring that focus back. Even though I failed at this 3-day Fruit Fast I've decided to do fruit fasts more regularly. I plan to fruit fast most Mondays. I'd like to say all Mondays but every now and then there is a reason to eat something more than fruit on Monday. Like in April - my birthday is on a Monday and I KNOW I can't turn down all the goodies that will come my way!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, to bring focus to my fast I've decided to eat specific fruits on behalf of others who need prayer. This week I texted some dear and near to my heart and asked their favorite fruits. So Monday I ate green apples, strawberries, raspberries, pineapple and mango praying specifically for their needs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm excited. I'd love to go before the Lord in supplecation for you...just tell me your fruit preferences!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-5840122314346130911?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/5840122314346130911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/03/fasting.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5840122314346130911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5840122314346130911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/03/fasting.html' title='Fasting'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-1935243345390914608</id><published>2010-03-01T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T08:25:48.455-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Told Ya</title><content type='html'>So I sneeze loud.  Sometimes it's ridiculous but it feels so very good and even when I try to hold it back where it isn't quite as raucous it still comes out loud and violent.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ohhh&lt;/span&gt; nothing feels like a good sneeze.  I don't have allergies but I think when I'm overly tired I tend to sneeze more.  Probably just my imagination...I haven't done a thorough scientific study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People, namely my sisters and spouse, give me a hard time about my sneeze.  After years of ridicule I truly try to tame the beast but it almost hurts not to let it out.  I also think holding back a sneeze isn't natural.  I needed proof for my theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went as far as drafting a question/letter to Dr. Oz who now has his own show but used to appear almost weekly on Oprah.  Yes, I wanted answers to my sneezing questions but mostly I wanted to be on Oprah.  I enlisted my sis, &lt;a href="http://hughesheart.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jennie&lt;/a&gt;, who is a much more eloquent writer than me to compose the question so it would come across smart and funny.  She too wanted to be on Oprah.  I, however, was embarrassed by her wording and never submitted the question.  Regrettably.  Now Oz is never on Oprah and I don't really care to go on the Dr. Oz show.  Does anyone watch it?  I never have...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, who needs Oz anyway.  I found this snippet in the "Better Homes and Gardens" issue from October 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Question:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is it bad for you to hold back your sneezes?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Answer:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Easy one.  Yes.  Sneezing is to the nose what coughing is to the lungs.  It's your body's way of clearing out things that shouldn't be there, such as allergens and viruses.  Holding a sneeze in can also cause a rapid, intense buildup of pressure in your head and can propel germs deep into the sinuses or ear canals, causing infections.  That same pressure can damage delicate ear membranes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I told you.  Big sneezes ARE good for you.  I'm rarely sick.  With the exceptions of giving birth and having my wisdom teeth pulled I have only been sick in bed for an entire day only ONCE since Chris and I got married.  And even then I was 8 months pregnant.  Like I said, I don't have allergies-which admittedly contributes to most peoples sneezes-but I don't get colds all that often either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sneeze BIG and let it all out.  But cover your mouth &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;por&lt;/span&gt; favor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-1935243345390914608?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/1935243345390914608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/03/told-ya.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/1935243345390914608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/1935243345390914608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/03/told-ya.html' title='Told Ya'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-1443686163301634059</id><published>2010-02-04T17:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T17:27:00.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Geaux Saints</title><content type='html'>Chris and I got to go to New Orleans for the Saints NFC Championship game against the Vikings. We'd never been to New Orleans so were excited to get to go to the game to see my cousin, &lt;a href="http://www.neworleanssaints.com/Team/Roster/People/David%20Thomas.aspx"&gt;David Thomas&lt;/a&gt;, play and also just to vacation and see the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was only my second NFL game to attend. I had seen the Seahawks play in Seattle several years ago and it seemed there were only 500 people in attendance in comparison to the 73 thousand that were at the Saints game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434238568862996018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S2pLL8HOVjI/AAAAAAAAAFo/D9nOcVxe_tU/s320/DSC01888.JPG" border="0" /&gt; The Saints fans are a blast! When the Saints score they play a song (I'm sure it's a well known song) that says "We're gon-na get you! - Here we come to get you!" Everybody is dancing and singing. My favorite kind of environment!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When their team is on defense they yell/scream. I don't mean that they yell, "Defense" or "Geaux Saints". They just yell. And then take a deep breath and yell again! It's so loud. You can't yell at the person next to you to tell them their hair is on fire. It's nuts. The Superdome is enclosed so the noise just bounces off the ceiling right back at you. Did I mention it's loud? Okay, good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so interested in seeing the Superdome after seeing it in the news during Katrina coverage. It's a very nice facility. Of course we were on the club level so our concessions were in a club atmosphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434238068068032050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S2pKuygZnjI/AAAAAAAAAFg/isDrUxyCPa8/s320/DSC01877.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, it's probably not as fancy as Jerryville but considering how it looked post Katrina it was a palace!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat with David's wife, Kassidy and my Aunt Leasa and Uncle John. We cheered and yelled and jumped around the whole game but when David had a catch we went nuts! Everyone around us was high-fiving us and giving their congratulations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you didn't watch the game it was a nail-biter. Overtime. Interceptions. Ka-Ray-Zee-Ness. And then we won! Of course we were so excited for David and his team. Our row was hugging and crying. The fans around us were excited for their team and their city. Winning the NFC Championship and going to the Superbowl is a first for the Saints. It's such a boost for the city that's still rebuilding and recovering from Katrina. When the Saints coach spoke after receiving the trophy there were men behind me crying! It was a sweet moment. For the city and for Team David!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434239438943237778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S2pL-lahNpI/AAAAAAAAAFw/KbPlp_s3XyY/s320/DSC01897.JPG" border="0" /&gt; This is us with David in the parking garage after the Player/Family reception. Don't ask me why I didn't get a photo with David on the field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434239877155744002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S2pMYF4haQI/AAAAAAAAAF4/53ufN1Tm4To/s320/DSC01934.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, the Superbowl is this Sunday when the Saints face the Colts. Be sure you watch AND CHEER for David. #85 Tight End/Full Back. Geaux Saints!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-1443686163301634059?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/1443686163301634059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/02/geaux-saints.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/1443686163301634059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/1443686163301634059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/02/geaux-saints.html' title='Geaux Saints'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S2pLL8HOVjI/AAAAAAAAAFo/D9nOcVxe_tU/s72-c/DSC01888.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-377396650531228283</id><published>2010-02-03T14:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T15:12:23.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Facts of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The fact of my life is that we have been busy. Thus, no blogging. However, there is much to be blogged ABOUT! Where to start??? I guess I'll start with the most recent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday night I went to hear Lisa Whelchel speak at FBC Littlefield. Lisa Who? Blair from "Facts of Life". She was fab! We had a lot of fun and I got a few really good ideas on disciplining and rewarding my kids! She's really funny and cute. In fact I'd really like her haircut and color but I think it'd make me look older.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;SIDENOTE: While purchasing a bottle of wine at Market Street in Lubbock I was asked to show my ID. The cashier took a second look and exclaimed, "There's no way you're this old!" Sigh. I'll take that compliment anytime!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to the topic at hand...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The best thing about her is her transparency. She seems very down to earth and real. I already had "Creative Correction" but I didn't realize she'd written it until I saw it on her display! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434156169791136498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 273px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S2oAPrpl4vI/AAAAAAAAAE4/RNJOFsOO7Dc/s320/creative+correction.jpg" border="0" /&gt;  &lt;div&gt;I bought "taking care of the me in mommy". (The official title is in all lower case so I'm assuming that's how I should reference it...correct me if I'm wrong.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434156232610565698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 273px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S2oATVq6TkI/AAAAAAAAAFA/nZEkBS3Zgh8/s320/meinmommy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;And, she signed it! I was the first in line like a big dork. I wanted her to sign the book "to Jencee and Marlee's Mommy - The Best on the Planet." but was too embarrassed to ask. So it's just signed "Abby - Lisa Whelchel." Although you can't really decipher her signature. Maybe she should've been a doctor.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434158367219231506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S2oCPltRqxI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KsBjMaIg30U/s320/DSC02069.JPG" border="0" /&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/904955122261304057-377396650531228283?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/377396650531228283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/02/facts-of-life.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/377396650531228283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/377396650531228283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/02/facts-of-life.html' title='The Facts of Life'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S2oAPrpl4vI/AAAAAAAAAE4/RNJOFsOO7Dc/s72-c/creative+correction.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-4648022788366475409</id><published>2010-01-13T18:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T20:09:43.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 3rd Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;My sweet girl turned 3 today. I can't believe how the time has flown! One minute she's a newborn snuggled in my arms and the next she's &lt;strong&gt;telling&lt;/strong&gt; me to put her down so she can run!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I really can't express my love for this child. She brings such joy and life into our home. What was this earth like before Jencee? What was my life before Jencee?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426442580348072450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S06YxruzcgI/AAAAAAAAAEw/_LKZp9UUqFg/s320/DSC01555.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She loves gymnastics and "school". She loves to draw and do "homeworks". She loves her baby sister and is good at sharing...most of the time! She is silly and sweet and all girl!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426440370171399794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S06WxCLnznI/AAAAAAAAAEo/EQk_L2bQKro/s320/DSC01729.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Happy Birthday, Jencee Sloan. You are my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/904955122261304057-4648022788366475409?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/4648022788366475409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-3rd-birthday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/4648022788366475409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/4648022788366475409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-3rd-birthday.html' title='Happy 3rd Birthday'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S06YxruzcgI/AAAAAAAAAEw/_LKZp9UUqFg/s72-c/DSC01555.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-7231640425078900415</id><published>2010-01-12T12:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T12:08:35.540-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Solitude</title><content type='html'>Sunday evening Chris agreed to keep the girls so I could go to Lubbock.  I went to see "It's Complicated" and ate dinner at Carino's.  By My Self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you enjoy going out alone as much as I do?  I would always prefer for Chris or a friend to go along with me but I don't mind going it alone.  At all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a people person.  I like to be with people all the time.  I'm social.  I'm outgoing.  Why do I like a date night with myself so much?  Really, people.  I need answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When is the last or the first time you've gone out alone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-7231640425078900415?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/7231640425078900415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/solitude.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/7231640425078900415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/7231640425078900415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/solitude.html' title='Solitude'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-7885280261943689869</id><published>2010-01-07T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T08:43:19.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Peach and Mustard-Glazed Pork Tenderloin</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;1/2 cup peach preserves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;2 tablespoons Dijon mustard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;2 teaspoons vegetable oil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;1/4 teaspoon dried thyme leaves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;1/4 teaspoon salt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;2 pork tenderloin (about 3/4 pound each)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;1. Mix all ingredients except pork. Place pork in resealable plastic food-storage bag or shallow glass or plastic dish. Pour preserves mixture over pork; turn pork to coat with preserves mixture. Seal bag or cover dish and refrigerate at least 1 hour but no longer than 8 hours, turning pork occasionally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;2. Heat oven to 450 degrees.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;3. Remove pork from marinade; reserve marinade in 1-quart saucepan. Place pork in shallow roasting pan. Insert meat thermometer so tip is in thickest part of pork.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;4. Bake uncovered 25 to 30 minutes or until thermometer reads 155 degrees. Cover pork with aluminum foil and let stand 10 to 15 minutes, brushing once with reserved marinade, until thermometer reads 160 degrees. (Temperature will continue to rise about 5 degrees, and pork will be easier to carve.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;5. Heat marinade to boiling. Boil 1 minute, stirring constantly. Cut pork into slices. Serve with marinade.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Chris and I really want to start entertaining more often in our home. I'm good with appetizers, salads, bread and side dishes for the most part. Meat intimidates me a bit. If it's ground beef or sausage I'm good. But actually cooking a piece of meat for someone other than myself or Chris makes me nervous. I found this recipe for pork and thought it sounded really easy and I think pork is usually pretty forgiving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were having my parents and brother over for dinner because Matthew hasn't seen our house and we wanted to spend time with him before he reports back. I thought this was as good a time as any to try the new dish and impress with my culinary skills!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Chris assures me that the pork tenderloin was tasty. I didn't try it. Why? you ask. Note in step 3 that it instructs you to insert meat thermometer. I followed the step. I always follow the steps. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;To my detriment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom could smell something burning but I didn't notice. Chris made a joke about my Mom recognizing the smell of burn. The pork was almost done so I went ahead and checked the oven. This is what I found.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424039042968777794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S0YOxZQA9EI/AAAAAAAAAEY/qXmcfaKTHo4/s320/DSC01829.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The thermometer exploded. We didn't know if it contained mercury or not and after much discussion decided not to risk it. So we tossed the dish and Chris and my brother went to get a bucket at KFC. The chicken was fine and my salad and the bread were exactly like they were supposed to be. But the pork. Ohhh, the pork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The pork was beautiful. And like I said, Chris said it tasted good. I'll try it again next week sans the thermometer.&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/904955122261304057-7885280261943689869?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/7885280261943689869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/peach-and-mustard-glazed-pork.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/7885280261943689869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/7885280261943689869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/peach-and-mustard-glazed-pork.html' title='Peach and Mustard-Glazed Pork Tenderloin'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S0YOxZQA9EI/AAAAAAAAAEY/qXmcfaKTHo4/s72-c/DSC01829.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-8623506314520240044</id><published>2010-01-03T19:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T20:28:51.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Treadmill</title><content type='html'>Chris and I got a babysitter yesterday and made our way to Lubbock. We had many an errand to run and needed, truly needed, to eat at one of our favorite haunts. One of our stops? Sears. We found they had a much better selection of workout equipment and a more knowledgeable staff than Academy. Anyway, Chris bought me (us) a treadmill!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was too long to fit in our vehicle so we drove home with the back door half open and tied to the bumper. It was cold and long. Really it wasn't so bad but don't tell Chris I said that ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon whilst both girls were sleeping Chris began the chore of putting it together. He's handy like that. It fell on his toe. I heard a few grunts. But it was worth it! Wasn't it Chris?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422732530778807250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S0FqgYEGm9I/AAAAAAAAADw/-3c_xkswG7E/s320/DSC01823.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After putting it together he ran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422733477514571410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S0FrXe7f7pI/AAAAAAAAAD4/7lxWizYDMw4/s320/DSC01826.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Doesn't he look athletic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the girls were put to bed, I ran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422735000236557106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 207px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S0FswHgtgzI/AAAAAAAAAEI/mCUYxCSqwqM/s320/Koeln-Marathon-2007-76-Susanne-Pumper-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Don't I look awesome?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually, no pictures were taken because the THUD THUD THUD of the treadmill was causing not only me and my thighs to jiggle to high heaven, but also everything in the house. If a picture had been attempted I'm sure it would be blurry as there is no possible way that a photographer could keep a steady hand with all the jiggling going on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I digress. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm very excited about my new piece of equipment and was pleased with the outcome of my first workout. We've placed the machine in our enclosed sun porch. We have a TV and DVD player and will soon have cable connected so I can watch my shows and workout at the same time. It only makes sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I lost at least 5 pounds today. Surely. I mean, I sweat out at least 5 pounds of water weight! Good Lord. I need some water.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-8623506314520240044?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/8623506314520240044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/treadmill.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/8623506314520240044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/8623506314520240044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/treadmill.html' title='Treadmill'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/S0FqgYEGm9I/AAAAAAAAADw/-3c_xkswG7E/s72-c/DSC01823.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-2714029140785159161</id><published>2010-01-01T10:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T11:20:01.895-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome 2010</title><content type='html'>2009 was a crazy year. Marlee was born in 2008 but the adjustments started in 2009! What a way to start a year! My brother graduated from basic training, shipped to Iraq and came home in time for Christmas. I learned to sew! I lost 11 pounds and have since gained 12. Chris changed jobs and we moved to a new community. I travelled to Seattle, Louisville, Dallas, Killeen and Ruidoso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The better part of 2009 was devoted to my kids and our new home! I'm so proud of the little lady Jencee is becoming and am constantly amazed by the changes in Marlee's day-to-day development! I can't wait to see the leaps and bounds my girls will make in 2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love our new home and am pleased with the progress we've made. We still have a few projects but this house feels like a home. It feels permanent. We've begun to plant roots in this house and I'm imagining the years to come in THIS house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't do much for myself in 2009. Don't get me wrong. I saw plenty of movies, slept in plenty a Saturday morning, had plenty of pedicures. But I didn't challenge myself in new ways. Yes, the move was a challenge. Leaving friends and attempting to make new was and is challenging. Adding a baby to the family in a 2 bedroom house and sharing your bedroom with an infant was a challenge. All these "challenges" are just part of life. Am I better for them? Absolutely! But they aren't goals or resolutions. They're just "dealing with life" challenges. Am I making sense at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, for 2010 I'm choosing to challenge myself with goals and resolutions. I usually shy away from New Year's resolutions because I feel like I'm setting myself up to fail. But this year, I don't really care if I fail. I want to attempt! I want to succeed! And I want accountability. Even if no one is holding me accountable I'll feel like it because I shared the goals here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So without further ado:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goals for 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Lose 15-20 Pounds/Eat Healthier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Workout at Least 3 Times a Week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Train for and Run a Half-Marathon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. BLOG More Consistently&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Join a Ladies Bible Study&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Join a Sunday School Class&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Make New Friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7a. Have a Party with my House Full to Overflowing with Friends and Family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Continue Learning to Sew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Learn a New Craft/Hobby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Learn to Bake Bread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I have more goals and resolutions for my house and family like, keep a neater house and cook kid friendlier vegetables. The list could go on. BUT the ten goals I listed are for ME. They're to make me a better Mommy, a better Wife, a better Woman, a better follower of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really excited about 2010. It will be challenging. But that's the point, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-2714029140785159161?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/2714029140785159161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/welcome-2010.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/2714029140785159161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/2714029140785159161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2010/01/welcome-2010.html' title='Welcome 2010'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-1526360752282070350</id><published>2009-12-30T20:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T21:00:37.314-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thompson's Eleven</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Between the two of them, my girls received ELEVEN dolls for Christmas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421260177894933570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SzwvaKJmBEI/AAAAAAAAADo/uOIr5CVF3m4/s320/DSC01805.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aren't they all so cute!?! The girls love 'em and have been playing with them all except the one in the middle.  She went right back into her box until her owner is old enough to play with her!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-1526360752282070350?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/1526360752282070350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/thompsons-eleven.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/1526360752282070350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/1526360752282070350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/thompsons-eleven.html' title='Thompson&apos;s Eleven'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SzwvaKJmBEI/AAAAAAAAADo/uOIr5CVF3m4/s72-c/DSC01805.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-6915003228440374532</id><published>2009-12-29T07:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T19:36:25.991-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Marlee Mouse</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Today is my sweet baby's birthday. She's one today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I can't believe a year has already come and gone. It happened too quickly. I don't know how it's possible but the the first 12 months of her life went faster than my nine months of pregnancy. Not that I'm complaining. It was an easy pregnancy and even easier delivery. I think I pushed twice with the nurse and twice with the doctor. And then she was here. Pink and Perfect. 7 lbs 5oz and 20" long. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Precious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420867023018472466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SzrJ1iGlNBI/AAAAAAAAADg/Ky_6QmsdMzM/s320/DSC00886.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;She's still pink and perfect. She still has her blue eyes. She's still precious.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;She gives the slobberiest kisses and is easy to laugh. She is joyful and brings much joy to our home. I can't imagine what life was like before she was here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420865440815050674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SzrIZb7477I/AAAAAAAAADQ/AC-YcJHuntY/s320/DSC01816.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;Happy Birthday, Marlee Jan. You are my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-6915003228440374532?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/6915003228440374532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-birthday-marlee-mouse.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6915003228440374532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6915003228440374532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-birthday-marlee-mouse.html' title='Happy Birthday, Marlee Mouse'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SzrJ1iGlNBI/AAAAAAAAADg/Ky_6QmsdMzM/s72-c/DSC00886.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-2803125869096637046</id><published>2009-12-23T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T11:00:02.844-08:00</updated><title type='text'>'Tis the Season</title><content type='html'>I can't believe Christmas is almost here.  Tomorrow!  Well Christmas Eve starts it all, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the weekend in Ruidoso with Chris' family sans one brother.  The weather was so nice and the kids played so well together.  Truly, they did great.  It's always nice when you can leave the kids to entertain each other and have adult time!  And where Mouse didn't really "play" she stayed entertained. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was vacation.  We mostly ate out so there was no cooking except for breakfast.  I didn't have laundry to do or anything.  Awesome!  We took the kids to Winter Wonderland where they played in the snow and tubed and rode kiddie carnival rides.  They were so cute.  I have loads of pics and video from all of it and just don't have the time/energy to download the camera right now :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're planning on spending Christmas Day with Chris' family and will have our tree then.  I can only imagine how fun it will be to watch four little girls opening gifts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Santa is coming to Levelland this year and Chris and I are excited to have Santa in our home!  I tried really hard not to go overboard and think I did pretty well.  I did end up taking some presents out of the Christmas pile and moved them to the Birthday pile.  Jaybird has been asking for a castle.  I didn't buy a castle.  This has been a new development over the last week and a half.  My shopping was done.  (However, her Nana is giving her a pink princess tent so we're calling that a castle.)  I had already gotten her golf clubs.  Pink ones!  And Mouse is getting the 2008 American Girl Doll.  She'll love it...someday...like 5 years from now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going to my parents on Christmas Eve and then again the day after Christmas.  My kids will get to play with their cousins and I'm hoping I'll get to play with all my cousins too!  The food will be awesome but the fellowship even better.  I'm truly hoping for lots of belly laughs! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday will just be our immediate family at my parents.  Did I mention that my brother is home from Iraq this week?  I think you can imagine what our Christmas will be like!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are your Christmas plans?  Have you been good this year? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas, friends.  Much love and many blessings to you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-2803125869096637046?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/2803125869096637046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/tis-season.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/2803125869096637046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/2803125869096637046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/tis-season.html' title='&apos;Tis the Season'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-9057319051508398162</id><published>2009-12-22T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T11:00:01.188-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Boy</title><content type='html'>In my last post I said, "Put a big red bow on the boy..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was referring to my brother as "The Boy". I should have made it a proper noun and capitalized it! Seriously. My whole life my Mom has called him "The Boy". I can't recall my Dad calling him that or really my sisters but I do on occasion as well. Not really when I'm talking about him to anyone else except my Mom. Weird? Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it isn't "Boy". It's THE Boy. I guess because he's the only boy in our family. So maybe Mom would refer to "the girls" and "the boy". I don't really know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417916133751195602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SzBOBK8ZB9I/AAAAAAAAADI/uXUn3gxqMgA/s320/DSC00801.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He isn't called that all the time. It's a pet name. A term of endearment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention the Boy is coming home from Iraq this week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-9057319051508398162?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/9057319051508398162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/boy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/9057319051508398162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/9057319051508398162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/boy.html' title='The Boy'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SzBOBK8ZB9I/AAAAAAAAADI/uXUn3gxqMgA/s72-c/DSC00801.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-5331461127804662157</id><published>2009-12-21T20:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T20:28:44.908-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't Wait</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It started at January 7th -ish. But then we got word that it would be December 18. And that's what we planned around. Then we were told December 19 then December 22 then December 20 then 21 then 22 then 23. It's been set for December 23 for over 24 hours so we're very optimistic!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417912138831764306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SzBKYotYG1I/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpqhqIKGDBg/s320/DSC00827.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, my brother is coming home from Iraq this week and we've literally been on the edge of our seats for over a week waiting for word of when his arrival would be. We don't want any of that "Estimated Time of Arrival" business. We want the &lt;strong&gt;real&lt;/strong&gt; time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As frustrating as it has been for us at home I can't imagine how my brother and his comrades must feel getting the run-around and their redeployment date getting pushed further back. Even getting pushed back by a measly 12 hours totally sucks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BUT he's coming home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I do. not. care. that they've changed the dates seven bagillion times. He'll be home safe and sound! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He'll be home for Christmas! How exciting is that? Put a big red bow on the boy and sing "Deck the Halls". I'm getting my Christmas present December 23rd this year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-5331461127804662157?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/5331461127804662157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/cant-wait.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5331461127804662157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5331461127804662157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/cant-wait.html' title='Can&apos;t Wait'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SzBKYotYG1I/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpqhqIKGDBg/s72-c/DSC00827.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-8524460480125429098</id><published>2009-12-18T08:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T08:50:00.327-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This picture was taken back in May but it ALWAYS makes me smile!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416435017532519346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SysK83EDM7I/AAAAAAAAACw/QhKlc-GUmp0/s320/DSC00856.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;TGIF&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-8524460480125429098?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/8524460480125429098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-friday.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/8524460480125429098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/8524460480125429098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-friday.html' title='Happy Friday'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SysK83EDM7I/AAAAAAAAACw/QhKlc-GUmp0/s72-c/DSC00856.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-6953669319282219572</id><published>2009-12-15T14:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T17:10:48.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Be Mad</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The first part of this video may anger some of you.  Apologies!  The second half is cute but alot of "Go get the ball...go get the ball!"  I don't know how to edit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-66c64000b2e45eb0" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D66c64000b2e45eb0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331394066%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1742486EFC75BE0C5A8D3C97B798107655E78D18.17AE7543EA41DAADF2E5612D67A5DD944270AD74%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D66c64000b2e45eb0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D3C6pRvS1KyXAu4pr4Aic0axom2c&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D66c64000b2e45eb0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331394066%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1742486EFC75BE0C5A8D3C97B798107655E78D18.17AE7543EA41DAADF2E5612D67A5DD944270AD74%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D66c64000b2e45eb0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D3C6pRvS1KyXAu4pr4Aic0axom2c&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-6953669319282219572?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/6953669319282219572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/dont-be-mad.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6953669319282219572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6953669319282219572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/dont-be-mad.html' title='Don&apos;t Be Mad'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-6291556195711265068</id><published>2009-12-14T10:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T10:48:09.147-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gearing Up</title><content type='html'>I'm gearing up for my holiday baking!  I'm very excited about my yummy treats but a little nervous about the timing of it all.  You see my plans are up in the air at the moment and I'm not sure when said treats will be needed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've emailed my Mom to find out which items need to be frozen before they're cooked and which should be cooked first and then frozen.  I'm still waiting for answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I signed up to take a sweet treat for J's class party on Thursday so I'll be starting with Tea Cakes - also known as Sugar Cookies!  I bought sprinkles this year which is kinda new for me because I usually just go with colored icing.  We'll see where the frosting spirit leads us! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also on the list are Sausage Balls, Cinnamon Pinwheels, Cranberry Poppers and Pumpkin Bread. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I'll be able to share pics and recipes this week as I'm baking along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of these recipes are new for me or my family so why the excitement?  Because they are so stinkin' good I can't wait to partake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you have planned for your holiday cooking/baking?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-6291556195711265068?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/6291556195711265068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/gearing-up.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6291556195711265068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/6291556195711265068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/gearing-up.html' title='Gearing Up'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-4118115478388265594</id><published>2009-12-08T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T13:20:01.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Award</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/Sx6wDq2jT4I/AAAAAAAAACo/4DmdMn0BF-c/s1600-h/lemonadestandaward.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412957379235106690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 126px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/Sx6wDq2jT4I/AAAAAAAAACo/4DmdMn0BF-c/s320/lemonadestandaward.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been "given" the &lt;strong&gt;Lemonade Stand Blog Award &lt;/strong&gt;by my fellow blogger friend, &lt;a href="http://jacobandgeorgia.blogspot.com/"&gt;Georgia&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But unlike most awards where you receive a plaque and go merrily on your way this blog award comes with strings attached!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, here are the strings...er, rules attached to the award: I have to pass on the Lemonade Stand Award to 10 other amazing blogs and link back to the blog that gave me the award. Then, I’&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;ve &lt;/span&gt;gotta leave comments on all the 10 blogs informing them about the award.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually I think this is a great way to get more exposure for my blog so that maybe someday I'll become a super rich blogger making loads of cash just by telling stories and posting them on this silly blog.  Also, it's good exposure for my ten recipients.  Who doesn't want more readers?  Oh, you don't?  You wanted to keep your blog private?  Sorry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here are the recipients for the &lt;strong&gt;Lemonade Stand Blog Award&lt;/strong&gt; in no particular order&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jennie at &lt;a href="http://hughesheart.blogspot.com/"&gt;Heart of the Matter&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tai Ann at &lt;a href="http://taiannmcclendon.blogspot.com/"&gt;Timely Rantings&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emily at &lt;a href="http://mommysrevelations.blogspot.com/"&gt;Milestones &amp;amp; Memories&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amberly at &lt;a href="http://athansjourney.blogspot.com/"&gt;Athan's Journey&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jen at I &lt;a href="http://jeremynjenprice.blogspot.com/"&gt;Believe in Love&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amanda at &lt;a href="http://amandaj-martin.blogspot.com/"&gt;Great Things Start with F&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ummm, I'm only giving the award to six people because I feel like a blog stalker in reading blogs that I don't comment on or reading blogs that I don't actually know the writer like this &lt;a href="http://morebonkiesplease.blogspot.com/"&gt;one&lt;/a&gt; or this &lt;a href="http://audreycaroline.blogspot.com/"&gt;one.&lt;/a&gt;  So if you feel the need to give the award to all 10 people that you're supposed to, go right ahead!  But I, Abby Lynn Wells Thompson, people pleaser deluxe, am breaking the rules today (gasp) and only doing 6!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Congrats fellow bloggers!&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/904955122261304057-4118115478388265594?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/4118115478388265594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-award.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/4118115478388265594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/4118115478388265594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-award.html' title='Blog Award'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/Sx6wDq2jT4I/AAAAAAAAACo/4DmdMn0BF-c/s72-c/lemonadestandaward.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-4645824647216194084</id><published>2009-12-07T08:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T08:19:26.031-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pink Glove Dance</title><content type='html'>I hope this video makes your Monday a good one.  I love this.  I watched it twice and couldn't stop smiling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OEdVfyt-mLw"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OEdVfyt-mLw&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-4645824647216194084?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/4645824647216194084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/pink-glove-dance.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/4645824647216194084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/4645824647216194084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/pink-glove-dance.html' title='Pink Glove Dance'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-27427493750350340</id><published>2009-12-02T13:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T13:46:35.004-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Girl Effect</title><content type='html'>Let me preface by stating that:  Yes, I am an Oprah fan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I'm a discriminating fan.  I don't watch every single show.  I only watch the ones of particular interest to me and I don't take everything she says as gospel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me also say that this is the first time I've EVER given to a cause publicized by Oprah.  It's worth your time to check out these causes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished watching an Oprah episode with 2 time Pulitzer Prize winner Nicholas Kristof .  The stories he and his wife told regarding the injustices to women across the globe were heartbreaking.  They told of women dying in childbirth, child prostitution, and rape.  They also discussed the discrimination against women in developing countries.  In many countries little girls aren't given vaccinations because they are saved for the boys.  Girls don't get educations that boys get.  Girls don't get the time of day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't eloquently blog here about all the injustices.  So go &lt;a href="http://www.oprah.com/package/oprahshow/oprahshow/pkgregistry/20090925-tows-registry-girls-women"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to educate yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick asked viewers to think about their daughters in similar situations.  I have been blessed with two of the most precious gems you can imagine.  And I can't imagine them going through the things that were discussed in this episode.  It made me nauseous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I posted &lt;a href="http://www.oprah.com/media/20090925-tows-girl-effect"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; video on Facebook entitled "The Girl Effect".  I don't know if it makes sense if you didn't see the Oprah episode but it's still interesting.  It's kind of the "Give the boy a fish and he'll eat for a day.  Give a boy a fishing pole and he'll eat for a lifetime." theology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point Nick Kristof and Oprah were striving to make is that everyONE can make a difference.  Small donations can provide school supplies or textbooks.  Larger donations can provide farm animals or tuition to school.  You can even LOAN money to women in developing countries to start their own businesses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked out Oprah's website and found all the ways I could make a difference.  I chose to donate $14 to buy two girls textbooks for a whole year of school.  It's Christmas after all and that's the least I would spend on a secret Santa gift.  So why not give it to &lt;a href="https://my.care.org/"&gt;CARE&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-27427493750350340?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/27427493750350340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/girl-effect.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/27427493750350340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/27427493750350340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/12/girl-effect.html' title='The Girl Effect'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-5321790162030326693</id><published>2009-11-30T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T19:39:12.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sawwww-reeeee</title><content type='html'>Well - I totally messed up last week's plan of blogging about the things I'm thankful for every day. This blogging thing takes up more time than I'd imagined. Once I post my blog I always find things I don't like so I go back and edit. And edit. And edit again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite things is finding errors in print. I like finding misspelled words. I like spotting the misuse of punctuation. I like when people totally use the wrong word or bad grammar. It somehow makes me feel superior and smarter. Who doesn't like feeling that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT it's made me totally self conscious of my own writing since I'm so hard on others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes. Blogging takes longer than I'd imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm having trouble coming up with topics that I think random people and my family/friends would enjoy reading. I had tons of ideas before starting this blog. And even in my sleep or in the car I'll come up with several blogging topics. But then I sit down to write and I'm blank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So apologies for boring you and many thanks for staying with me. Stick around. I assure you it will get better...or more consistent at least.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-5321790162030326693?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/5321790162030326693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/well-i-totally-messed-up-last-weeks.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5321790162030326693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/5321790162030326693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/well-i-totally-messed-up-last-weeks.html' title='Sawwww-reeeee'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-2577189401216484748</id><published>2009-11-23T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T20:29:34.951-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doin' the Rachael Ray</title><content type='html'>This Thanksgiving I'm thankful that I have a garbage disposal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been cooking ALOT more since we've moved to L-town. There aren't as many places to eat out. We don't have many friends that we're meeting and eating with. My kitchen is HUGE! I have so much counter space it's ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have dishwasher!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have a garbage disposal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of which I've been without for the last 10+ years!!! So, I'm enjoying being in the kitchen much more often. And as a side note: I'm pretty good at this cooking business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in the last few months I've been taking a few moves from one Rachael Ray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a TRASH BOWL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's life changing. Okay - that's dramatic. It isn't as life changing as the dishwasher or the disposal but it certainly changes the preperation of meals. Who knew? Besides Rachael, anyway? I just use any ole bowl out of the cabinet but I'd really like one of hers just cuz it's kinda fun...and funny.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407516873828267970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/Swtb8k1298I/AAAAAAAAACg/n4KrVZz6a4M/s320/51765717711001r87.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Don't ask me why but the use of a trash bowl reminds me of the scrap bucket at my grandparents house. Grandma didn't have a garbage disposal so all the food left on our plates went into the scrap bucket for Grandpa to take to the dog that stayed on the farm. I've been wracking my brain today trying to remember that dog's name. Myrtle. I wonder if poor Myrtle ever got any real dog food or if it was just scraps. I assure you she (he?) was well fed and well taken care of. And I'm sure the scraps were probably pretty tasty considering how good Grandma's cooking was. I don't really know but I'm thinking she was a lucky dog, that Myrtle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the bucket... To say the least, it was &lt;strong&gt;disgusting&lt;/strong&gt;! Truly. My trash bowl isn't nearly as awful considering it isn't actual food all mixed in together. It's just egg shells and cans and paper and onion peel. And I'm not feeding it to anything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think it ever occurred to me at the time how truly foul that bucket was. But now, I'm gagging just thinking about it. So yes. This Thanksgiving one thing I'm thankful for is my garbage disposal (and many many other things we can cover later)! What are you thankful for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SwtbFYGWhZI/AAAAAAAAACY/d9DFMvbnM98/s1600/DSC01490.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407515925514978706" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SwtbFYGWhZI/AAAAAAAAACY/d9DFMvbnM98/s320/DSC01490.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Can you tell from the items in my trash bowl what I was preparing?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-2577189401216484748?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/2577189401216484748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/doin-rachael-ray.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/2577189401216484748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/2577189401216484748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/doin-rachael-ray.html' title='Doin&apos; the Rachael Ray'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/Swtb8k1298I/AAAAAAAAACg/n4KrVZz6a4M/s72-c/51765717711001r87.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-36722509361315681</id><published>2009-11-15T20:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T21:09:18.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Toasty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;We have a gas log in our fireplace and I L-O-V-E love it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404546988175274210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SwDO2eoYMOI/AAAAAAAAACA/h5iGQlpoF-c/s320/DSC01471.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;We have central heat so it's not like we &lt;strong&gt;need&lt;/strong&gt; the fireplace. But it's oh so lovely. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I light it almost every morning because living in West Texas, it's 40 degrees at 8am and 80 degrees at 4pm. I'd be switching the thermostat from heater to air conditioner daily. Would that be considered high maintenance? Anyway...it's as nice and easy as the hair color. I can just light it with the turn of a knob and then turn it off just as easily when I need to run to the store.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;NOTE: It's like a candle in that you shouldn't leave it burning when unattended.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;If I had a wood burning fireplace it would hardly ever be used. Chris would have to bring in the firewood and light the fire and then put it out and then sit around to make sure it went out...Chris would do all the work. But with this gas log, it's all me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Besides all the ease and convenience of this baby, it gives me a great feeling of home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I love standing in front of it watching the girls play or watching tv. It reminds me of standing in front of the fire at Grandma's. If it was freezing cold outside then it would be freezing cold inside because she didn't have central air. But all you had to do was stand or lay in front of the fire for a few minutes and warm up. For some reason I feel like I always shared the space in front of her fire with either Dad or Grandpa. I'm sure there were others but those are the two that stand out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I loved the fire at Gana's too. It was always burning on Christmas Eve. Most years it was TOO hot for a fire but one was lit anyway. I think the ceiling fan was usually on at the same time but by golly, it was Christmas. We needed a fire. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404554174491567634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SwDVYxvsphI/AAAAAAAAACQ/nWFshaUR0wA/s320/DSC01413.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Memories of fires in those two homes create coziness and warmth in my soul. I hope my girls will relate someday. I hope they'll make memories around my hearth. And that simply standing in front of a fire will evoke such sweet memories for them too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404553948373813570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SwDVLnZBiUI/AAAAAAAAACI/kM_YncVAjxU/s320/DSC01415.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &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/904955122261304057-36722509361315681?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/36722509361315681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/toasty.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/36722509361315681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/36722509361315681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/toasty.html' title='Toasty'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SwDO2eoYMOI/AAAAAAAAACA/h5iGQlpoF-c/s72-c/DSC01471.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-7705838042495447564</id><published>2009-11-09T15:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T16:44:56.004-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fondue</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My cousin, Katy, turned 29 again last week. She wanted to celebrate this special occasion that only comes once by having a girls' night at her parents home in Tahoka.  Captain Awesome kept the kids and shoved me out the door a few hours early so I could buy a gift for the birthday girl and shop a little. I didn't get a whole lotta shopping done except paint at Lowe's and a snack mix at World Market. I did however find a birthday present. AND, I treated myself to a mani. I needed fresh polish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After driving to Tahoka and changing into this dress I was ready to par-tay. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402265757812229826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/Svi0FZSnhsI/AAAAAAAAABw/q5-kNW6fPwA/s320/IMG_3069.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After some yummy apps and a glass of wine, we sat down at the dinner table for a Fondue feast. Katy has been to Switzerland and a few dinner guests had been to The Melting Pot &lt;a href="http://www.meltingpot.com/"&gt;http://www.meltingpot.com/&lt;/a&gt;. This however was my first experience with Fondue. We had sausage, potatoes and bread for the cheese/entree and then out came the chocolate and caramel (pronounced car-mul) dessert. I dipped apples, stawberries and angel food cake into these oh so yummy sauces. Truly, it was a great night of fun. I even ended up spending the night so the fun could last longer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402267749496127666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/Svi15U5EALI/AAAAAAAAAB4/61VnhLLApB4/s320/DSC01465.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;I definitely recommend Fondue for your next get together. It's casual and family-like since you're all eating from the same pot! I didn't even experience any germ issues...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402253168609226066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/Svioom2ubVI/AAAAAAAAABg/4DgsQvOQC2M/s320/DSC01466.JPG" border="0" /&gt; And all through the night my inner actress kept saying, "Yo, Fondue" from the Grease song "Look at Me, I'm Sandra Dee". I'm so glad I was saying it in my mind because when I looked up the lyrics here: &lt;a href="http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/g/grease/look_at_me_im_sandra_dee.html"&gt;http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/g/grease/look_at_me_im_sandra_dee.html&lt;/a&gt; I discovered that the words are actually, "Hey, Fongul..." Who is that anyway?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-7705838042495447564?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/7705838042495447564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/fondue.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/7705838042495447564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/7705838042495447564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/fondue.html' title='Fondue'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/Svi0FZSnhsI/AAAAAAAAABw/q5-kNW6fPwA/s72-c/IMG_3069.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-1830505403771312078</id><published>2009-11-05T13:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T19:41:53.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading Rant</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Chris sent me on an errand this morning to get a book at Barnes and Noble in Lubbock. Their new location opened just yesterday at the mall. It's ginormous. It's new and clean. It's spaced out with lots of room between the aisles. The cafe has more to offer and the children's section is much improved with toys and games and puzzles. They carry movies on blu-ray and are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;promoting the "nook" which is the new computerized book. There are several areas with comfy chairs to cozy up and read in...unless you have germ issues like me and choose the un-comfy wooden chairs ;0)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;This bookstore is impressive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But it's AT the mall...it's at the front of the mall right next to the main entrance. For those of you familiar with South Plains Mall, it's in the old Luby's. So on the occasion that I'm at the mall it will be nice to mosey on over and shop at Barnes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But on the days/nights that I have just a moment and want to grab something quick (like Tuesday afternoon when I found myself in Lubbock without a thing to read and headed to a solo lunch) there's no way I'm gonna want to fight mall traffic and hunt for a parking place just to run in and grab a magazine. That quick run could take forever. It will be faster to go in a gas station and get the latest "People" or other gossip rag I feel like wasting my time with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Although I've always considered books as an investment, I think this may be a sign that I should stop buying as many books and start checking more out from the library. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And on that note...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;When we first moved to Levelland the girls and I made our way to the city library to get a few reads and apply for a library card. The clerk wasn't very friendly and didn't understand why my driver's license didn't have my current address. Uhhh, cuz it's a new address. I had to give an emergency contact and phone number. I didn't know anyone in Levelland so had to give my mother-in-law's info. The clerk was perturbed that she's not a Levelland local. Seriously, I felt like I was applying for a job with the FBI. But perhaps they take great pride in their books here at the Levelland library. They want to take great steps to ensure the enjoyment and &lt;u&gt;education&lt;/u&gt; of our citizens. That's why my shiny new library card says in all caps, "The patron is responsible for all items borrowed with this card, to PROMTLY report any address change or lost card....". Seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/904955122261304057-1830505403771312078?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/1830505403771312078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/reading-rant.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/1830505403771312078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/1830505403771312078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/reading-rant.html' title='Reading Rant'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904955122261304057.post-689328821588059632</id><published>2009-11-04T12:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T12:46:11.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Not?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"&gt;So, why not? Everyone, well almost everyone, has a blog these days. I've been debating starting a blog since I saw "Julie &amp;amp; Julia" and was encouraged by a blogger friend to start one. I read several blogs that I've been introduced to by friends, Google Reader, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; etc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"&gt;Lots of blogs are really interesting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"&gt;Most. are. not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"&gt;I'm not sure what you'll find here. I'm not sure what I'll write. I'm not the most eloquent of writers. I don't have the deepest of thoughts or insights. I'm not the funniest girl in the classroom or in my own house for that matter. I don't have the most interesting life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"&gt;BUT, I'm a good storyteller.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"&gt;So starting tomorrow, I hope to treat readers with the stories of my life. The day-to-day mundane, the hysterical/emotional/chaotic present and past. I'm sure I'll embarrass myself and those dear to me along the way. Apologies. Maybe I'll change the names to protect the innocent, er, guilty parties! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"&gt;Anyway, I'd like to share recipes, movie and book reviews and general stories from the goings on of all things Abby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"&gt;Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"&gt;PS - I don't scrapbook so I'm looking forward to getting my blog all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cutiefied&lt;/span&gt;. Any helpers???&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/904955122261304057-689328821588059632?l=abby-storytelling.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/feeds/689328821588059632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/why-not.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/689328821588059632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/904955122261304057/posts/default/689328821588059632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abby-storytelling.blogspot.com/2009/11/why-not.html' title='Why Not?'/><author><name>Abby</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042823815783289631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_95C0lKMZa6Y/SvIqTlMuUMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pKyK-_qOjuM/S220/DSC01168.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
