tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24304350464139966952024-03-14T00:38:10.551-07:00My Empty ShellWhen things are just too important not to write them down.Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-42017404153923515492013-03-18T08:20:00.003-07:002013-03-18T08:20:32.063-07:00A Fear...or DisorderI have been dealing with something for the past 17 years of my life, that not even my extended family knows about. The only people that know is my kids and husband. I don't talk about it, cause I can't handle it if someone don't believe me. In a large degree, I feel like I am just crazy and how can others believe it.<br />
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This disorder I have, started as a minor thing. And today it has grown into a monster that takes over part of my life. A large part. Before I tell you my story, I simply ask for you not to judge me, and try to understand it. Chances are you know someone the same way.<br />
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I was in an abusive marriage as some of you know. In this marriage a lot of things happened to me that even I am still learning. The more I learn, the more this disorder grows.<br />
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I have Agoraphobia. For those that don't know what this is....<br />
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Panic disorder with agoraphobia is an anxiety disorder in which a person has attacks of intense fear and anxiety. There is also a fear of being in places where it is hard to escape, or where help might not be available.<br />
Agoraphobia usually involves fear of crowds, bridges, or of being outside alone.<br />
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For more information you can visit here: <a href="http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/agoraphobia/DS00894" target="_blank">http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/agoraphobia/DS00894</a><br />
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My disorder started with a fear of people. A fear that they are judging me, making fun of me. Then it spiraled out of control with thoughts that they all want to harm me. Lucky for me I have a very supportive husband now. A husband that helped me through this major disfunction in my life. Because of him, he made me get out among people, with him close to my side, and showed me that nobody wants to hurt me. Although I still feel these things, I can control them much better. <br />
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He would work 12 hour shifts at a physically demanding job, and then come home, only to go back out to run to the grocery store because I wouldn't leave my home. Only to go to my parents house. So now that has gotten better, but I still go to very few places without him. Well, the better I get at controling this, the more new fears begin to emerge. <br />
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I now can not go anywhere unless I am in constant view of the exits. I can not sit in the back of a crowded room, because they will trap me in should anything happens. I can not talk to people face to face. If I do, I never look them straight in the eye. I constantly back up or move over. I don't want them in my space. <br />
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When someone knocks on my door, I'm off to the races. I have injured myself more times then once trying to get away from the knock. Why do I feel this way... because this home is MY HOME. YOU CAN NOT HURT ME HERE. It is my safe haven. The only people that are allowed inside these walls are people I trust and know that love me. If you are knocking on my door, you are wanting in to my safe haven, and I don't trust you not to hurt me or my family. And I don't have to face you inside these walls. <br />
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A true example of this and what happens to me is a day I will never forget. That is the day I truely realized, I have a problem. My son and daughter wanted to go to church camp. So my husband took them over and signed them up. My son met a boy that he instantly became friends with. He asked if the boy could come over. My husband said yes, and he didn't prepare me for this. The boy walks in and I instantly run for another room. They go into his bedroom to play the game and I start to feel more at ease. The boy wasn't too much of a problem because he was young. But then my husband tells me that his parents will be over to pick him up. I instantly go into panic mode. How could he do this to me. how can he open my doors to complete strangers that he has only met for a matter of 5 minutes. He tells me he would like for me to meet them. He begins to prepare me. Telling me he will be there with me and it will be ok. He wont even ask them to sit down.<br />
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The knock at the door...it took every fiber of my being to keep my feet planted in one spot. Now, at this time my front door lead into the living room and there was a divider that separated the kitchen from the living room. I stood leaned up against this divider. It was my protection with Rob standing almost infront of me. He introduced me and things were going ok. Then she made a comment about my stand next to my couch. Saying her husband needs something like that, I instantly felt judged because it was a old jeloppy that Rob made in 10 seconds. I felt myself withdrawing. She then made the statement that she wants a floor like what was in my kitchen. Because it is dark and don't show dirt when it's dirty. That sent me for a headspin. Was my floor dirty, was she judging my cleaning ability. My mind the thoughts were, how dare her come into my home and judge me. By the time the people left, I found myself hidden behind the divider now and only my head was visable. I kid you not, I looked like a floating head. I came out when they left and knew then, this was a serious problem.<br />
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I do have a job. After a year of being there, I am just now starting to talk to people. Which even surprises me cause I work in a Nursing Home. But I still get up every morning and my anxiety kicks into over drive. It takes me all day or night to prepare to go in. Even when I get there, there are certain situations that put me into a talespin.<br />
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My newest fear, is about to cause a divorce. For 17 years I have considered Rob my security blanket. I have felt that he is the ONLY person that will never hurt me. I know this to be a fact. But I cant stop what my head feels. <br />
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We recently went on a road trip up to Ohio from Georgia. I drove down so everything was ok. I could keep things within my control. On the way back I was too tired to drive so it was left up to him. As soon as we hit the highway, all bets were off. If he blinked, it was too long. If he hit the breaks, it was too hard. Anything and everything he did....was wrong. He was going to kill us. Or he was going to flip the car and I was going to get trapped inside. I fought with him. It got so bad he pulled over to the side of the highway and told me to get in the back seat. So I reluctantly agreed. but just getting into the back seat was not good enough. I had to lay down. If I sat up I was going to throw up everyone. If I hadn't laid down, I would have never made it home, and if it wasn't someone I trust, I would have killed them to save myself.<br />
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I need help. I know I need to see someone to help me get over this, but I don't know if I trust someone enough to go talk to them about my entire life. To sit there with another human being, one on one, talking about me....lets put it this way...I have always been a better listener then a talker. This causes high anxiety with me. Even the thought makes me sick to my stomach. <br />
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Which is a whole nother thing. I found out now, why I am always sick to my stomach. Why I sweat so bad in public places, why I feel so hot...and the dizzy spells. <br />
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Anyway, I am telling you this now, becasue I am going to go get some help. Because Rob's surgery is coming up next month and I am feeling guilty because even though he is going to go throguh a life or death surgery, my mind keeps going to a place I HATE. If he dies....I will be....alone. So I need to get this fixed so I can be at my best for him. <br />
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Ok so wish me luck on this new chapter of my life. The one where I admit that I have a problem. The one where I will have to take medication, that I don't want to take. The one where a therapist will make me face my fears head on. I am going to need all the luck I can get.<br />
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BEmpty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-13027645377132077902013-02-27T09:42:00.000-08:002013-02-27T09:42:31.758-08:00So Much To Tell...So Little Time<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last night I got a little tipsy. It made me look at things through different eyes. Was this a good thing...I think so. It got me thinking about things that are going on in my life, and how I can change them. I have done nothing but the last couple of months to change everything. Rob's health, my work, my kids, my home...everything. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Last night I came to the conclusion that I am not going to try and change things anymore. I cannot control everyone and everything. I just can't. So I stop. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Rob is not healthy. Not at all. In fact he is going in for a life or death surgery in two months. They are going to re-graft him a whole new aorta. But there is two catches. He needs to stop smoking and gain 50 to 60 pounds. The problem is, he hasn't even tried to stop smoking, and we are down to less then two months before the surgery. They made it perfectly clear they will not do the surgery if he don't stop. I even went and bought him a 50 dollar E cig to help him. I have begged him to at least slow down. He wont even leave the house now. He is not active at all. He gets no exercise, he is sick to his stomach all the time and he wont eat what I give him. Gotten him Boost, Ensure, Med Pass, Muscle Milk, milkshakes...everything I can think of to put some weight on him. He will drink a couple of sips and the rest goes to waste. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Bottom line is he has given up. There is no doubt in my mind. He has stopped doing the things that made him who he is. He use to wash his hair daily, never failed, even if there wasn't enough time for a shower. He use to check his money daily. He use to move around the house and never liked to sit still for long cause it hurt. All stopped. Now he is like a veggie on the couch. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Now don't get me wrong. I know he has a lot on him right now. More then his share and it would stress even the strongest person out. But he needs to try. He needs to try and save his life. Are me and the children not worth it? He has sat on this couch for 2 straight weeks. He has litterally wasted away. Instead of gaining he has lost 7 more pounds...putting him at a whopping 156 pounds. Now, Rob has never been a small man. He is 6 ft. tall and been heavy his whole life. This is skin and bones to Rob. He he let his beard grow back to a full beard just so his face looks more full. His cheek bones are errie. I for the life of me can't even figure out how his legs are holding him up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I ask him to exercise with leg weights on his arms and legs, cause he can't do much. But he can sit here and lift his legs and arms with the weights on, but he wont do it. And the frustrating part for me is, I CAN'T BE HERE 24 7 TO MAKE SURE HE DOES IT. He wont let me quit my job, but if I don't do something this surgery is NOT going to happen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I love him just too damn much to let him just give up. I can't control him and I can't make him change. I realized that last night, but I damn sure can control myself. So I think wheather he likes it or not, I am going to quit my job and stay home with him. I have to. At least until after his recovery. Things are going to be tight, specially cause I am going to have to rent out a hotel room for the two months he is in Gainesville hospital recovering. But, his life is MY LIFE..and I don't like him messing with it. I have too much invested in him to just let him go. yeah that may sound selfish....But...DAMN IT I AM WORTH IT!!! MY KIDS ARE WORTH IT!!!! AND I THINK HE IS WORTH IT!!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I have to get an up to date picture of Rob to show you, but I will show you how he has changed over the years and the rapid change.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is Rob when I first met him. We were not even married here yet. This isn't a good picture either. Let me tell you, this man was built like no other man I have ever met. His chest was like a brick wall. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l3ZVdi-VVbw/US4_fREiwtI/AAAAAAAAALA/zVx81MS-umY/s1600/Fujifilm+042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l3ZVdi-VVbw/US4_fREiwtI/AAAAAAAAALA/zVx81MS-umY/s320/Fujifilm+042.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> 2 years before his first rupture.(above)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"> About 5 months after his rupture. (above)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These pictures were in 2009 just about 3 years ago. And 1 year after his rupture. (above)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> And this...just a short Year ago.(above)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And the most recent ... about a month ago and he looks so much more different then this now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">How does change happen this fast. HE IS NOT HEALTHY!!!!!! I am not saying he has let his self go, as far as him still matching his shoes to his belt is still important to him. Matching his hanky to his shirt is still important. No he hasn't let him self go....he just has stopped caring wheather he lives or dies.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I love this man with all my heart, soul, passion, life. I can't stand seeing him do this to his self. I guess I am just venting. I just wish he cared about himself as much as I care about him. Stop seeing me as trying to help as degrading you. COME BACK TO ME ROB...more importantly...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Don't make me live here without you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-61439798646289442912013-02-26T21:45:00.002-08:002013-02-26T21:45:50.233-08:00Long Time No See...Hello world,<br />
It's been a long time since I last made a post. And honestly I haven't had much time to make one either.<br />
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A lot has been going on in my little corner of the world. Some good and well, some not as much. The good news is I am almost completely over what my child has done to me. It has been a long road but my healing is almost done. <br />
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One that that has changed is, that same child, made me a grandmother. That's right everyone...Me...a mamaw!!!!!! That's the best news of the year. I wasn't happy about it at first but who could not be happy with a face like this:<br />
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(I HAVE NICKNAMED HER BUBBLES :)</div>
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Her name is Rayne Sue-Marie Rue. Yep she put my middle name on this child...can you believe it after all she has put me through. I now have a name sake. Although I think it is more after my mom then me, but I am taking it and running with it.<br />
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It seems to have been a long winter here. Back and fourth with the cold and warm weather. I miss Florida at times like this. Can't wait to get back to the warm weather, on a boat, on the water. Yes, my friends that is where I am the happiest...on the water. I think I was a fish once ;)<br />
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But this year, it's going to be the lake and not the ocean....but I CAN'T WAIT!!!!!</div>
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I am back now, and I am going to keep up on my blog. I HAVE MISSED IT SO. I have a lot to tell, past and future. Stay tuned...<br />
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BEmpty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-34608222821979579342011-07-17T12:43:00.000-07:002011-07-17T12:43:14.122-07:00New Old Friends and Reliving Guilt...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A couple of days ago I found a long lost friend. She was one of the first friends I ever made as a married adult. She worked with my husband when we lived in Chicago. I found her after about 11 years of losing contact. Today she called me and it was as if her voice had never left my memory. As soon as she spoke I knew in a moment is was Lynda, my long lost friend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">It was nice to hear her voice again. But it also saddened me because for me to have a conversation with someone on the phone or face to face takes some prep time for me. I am very shy and I hardly ever know what to say to someone when I have known them and talk to them daily. There is lots I want to say but never know what is appropriate to say after so long. So I do hope that she don't think I was rude. She just don't know the me that I have come to be. She thought I was shy and withdrawn before...she has no idea how bad it has gotten now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Now on to reliving old guilt. Was it my friend that made me do it...no. It was my wonderful daughter, who lives in Ohio. She felt to the need to call me out of the blue and start having me relive my abusive life with her real father and relive the fact that he had an affair on me and had a child with another woman...while i was married to him. After the wonderful little day full of memories that I thought I had long forgotten, she called back that night to inform me that she missed her brother, sister and me and it was all my fault because I took them away from her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Needless to say, I have been really down for the last couple of days and have cut myself off from the world basically. I haven't even called my best friend because I am just too down right now.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Even tho it was she that left us, and not the other way around, she still sees it completely different then it all happened. I guess that is the pill one must swallow. How does one deal with all this. How does one deal with the same mind numbing pain over and over again. If you have the remedy, please share. I am even willing to pay for it. I would rather be broke then to keep living with the guilt that shouldn't be my guilt to bare.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-44115626404424030752011-06-20T11:34:00.000-07:002011-06-20T11:34:42.751-07:00Mommy Rhapsody...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A friend of mine shared this on Facebook and I am adding it here so I don't lose it.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/80olbDws8r0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-67205050946365338262011-06-19T16:25:00.000-07:002011-07-21T14:28:31.561-07:00Love...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love is a word that is used very loosely in today's English language. I love you is thrown around so much, that it is no wonder why people get so confused in relationships. And it isn't only intimate relationships that get messed up in that little 4 letter word that causes so much havoc. It's any kind. A love between two friends or many, a love between to soul mates and a love between family or more specific a mother and daughter.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">When did love become such a hard thing for people to grasp? Anymore it isn't I love you all the time...it's I will love you when it is convenient for me. It can bring so many people close together, and yet tear them apart at the same time.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Then there are different kinds of love. There is a love for finer things in life. A love for friends, a love for family, a love for material things, and BEING IN love. They all cause just as much trouble as the next. And just because there are different kinds of love, really doesn't make the hurt really any different.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">It is confusing. I try to teach my daughter, a teen girl that goes around telling everyone she loves them, even people she has never met, that you can't just throw that word out there to people. Reason being...there are so many people out there that is only looking for love. To be loved by someone, anyone. Yet, she still throws it out there like it is an everyday word. And it isn't. Love is a word that should be used with extreme care. A word that should only come out of your mouth when it is unconditional, no doubt about it and truly meant by the sayer. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I can honestly say that I am IN LOVE with one person. I can honestly say that I truly love 5 people unconditionally. I can honestly say I love 6 people that I would never want anything bad to happen to them. And I can honestly say I love the items around me that I would hate to lose but it's OK if I ever do. Every single one of these people I tell I love you to. And when I tell them I love them, I truly mean I love them. I love them so very much that my life would never be the same without them. If I have told you, then I mean it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">But the problem with love is...it isn't always given back with the same amount of enthusiasm, with the same amount of passion, with the same amount. You can never tell or show someone exactly how much you really love them, but you can always try to show them and tell them. Never stop trying. But don't ever say it, unless you mean it. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I am a mother, and I starve for love from my children. I need love from them. I HAVE to have love from them. And to a large degree, they love me as much as they can or as much as they know how to. But I don't ever want them to love me when it is convenient for them. No matter what they do, no matter what they say, no matter what they become, I will always love them as much, if not more then the day they were laid in my arms. I may not like what they do, or what they say, but I can honestly say I love them UNCONDITIONALLY. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Love hurts, love feels great, love makes you cry, it makes you laugh. But one thing it should never do...is make you CRAZY!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">To my daughter, I love you. Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow...I love you. Let me know when it is convenient again for you to love me. </span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-49078961421571089362011-06-07T13:24:00.000-07:002011-06-07T13:25:55.861-07:00A Story With Pictures...<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Once upon a time there was a....</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5gOZ361HOR8/Te5a9QTI9bI/AAAAAAAAAEk/L-n0KE-gZQY/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5gOZ361HOR8/Te5a9QTI9bI/AAAAAAAAAEk/L-n0KE-gZQY/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Billirella)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">named Billirella who worked very hard at her job at...</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xH1NmI8YZIU/Te5vdCYo9qI/AAAAAAAAAE0/5A1vMdIBCAw/s1600/SpeedwayLogo.gif" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" t8="true" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Speedway)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She was a slave to her...</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FUDjF2sjVHM/Te5wzz23BbI/AAAAAAAAAE4/QHBtu2Xqqzg/s1600/boss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="168" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FUDjF2sjVHM/Te5wzz23BbI/AAAAAAAAAE4/QHBtu2Xqqzg/s200/boss.jpg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Boss)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">that worked her poor....</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Zt__IQFbPgM/Te5xN23kjOI/AAAAAAAAAE8/u1UpPbn22KE/s1600/untitled.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Zt__IQFbPgM/Te5xN23kjOI/AAAAAAAAAE8/u1UpPbn22KE/s200/untitled.bmp" t8="true" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(fingers)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">to the... </span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DKdjWk4_hQI/Te5xriVH21I/AAAAAAAAAFA/F4Vzn4fXEmA/s1600/imagesCA9ZW6NH.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DKdjWk4_hQI/Te5xriVH21I/AAAAAAAAAFA/F4Vzn4fXEmA/s200/imagesCA9ZW6NH.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Bone)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As much as she hated her...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2VpdcTcRkCw/Te5x1GYn53I/AAAAAAAAAFE/h0wFI_UCDGo/s1600/job2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2VpdcTcRkCw/Te5x1GYn53I/AAAAAAAAAFE/h0wFI_UCDGo/s200/job2.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> at ... </span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xH1NmI8YZIU/Te5vdCYo9qI/AAAAAAAAAE0/5A1vMdIBCAw/s1600/SpeedwayLogo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xH1NmI8YZIU/Te5vdCYo9qI/AAAAAAAAAE0/5A1vMdIBCAw/s1600/SpeedwayLogo.gif" t8="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">there was one ....</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gux0BtuZYKA/Te5yIqElBTI/AAAAAAAAAFI/9FyvUy2WPlM/s200/imagesCAN5D1RG.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" t8="true" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Silver Lining)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">to her day. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Thier was a...</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YWjfAQW1Jks/Te5yg4Me4jI/AAAAAAAAAFM/LvLEuKHZCR8/s1600/imagesCA1V77T7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YWjfAQW1Jks/Te5yg4Me4jI/AAAAAAAAAFM/LvLEuKHZCR8/s1600/imagesCA1V77T7.jpeg" t8="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prince Charming</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">that entered into her...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xH1NmI8YZIU/Te5vdCYo9qI/AAAAAAAAAE0/5A1vMdIBCAw/s1600/SpeedwayLogo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xH1NmI8YZIU/Te5vdCYo9qI/AAAAAAAAAE0/5A1vMdIBCAw/s1600/SpeedwayLogo.gif" t8="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">each and every day. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">The...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oKKMks8N0tA/Te5y3YNqfYI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/KkB5IygIo48/s1600/imagesCADOYQ8E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oKKMks8N0tA/Te5y3YNqfYI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/KkB5IygIo48/s200/imagesCADOYQ8E.jpeg" t8="true" width="149" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">part to her was that Prince...</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GXXAKWfykz4/Te5zU0-ygcI/AAAAAAAAAFU/A0R_VoMxd88/s1600/249197_1572156882757_1800586894_981128_246271_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GXXAKWfykz4/Te5zU0-ygcI/AAAAAAAAAFU/A0R_VoMxd88/s200/249197_1572156882757_1800586894_981128_246271_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="178" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> Charming didn't even know she exisited. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbvWEA21t0/Te5zfDgTV4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/sNBTROy0izE/s1600/248162_1571604508948_1800586894_980545_5668813_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbvWEA21t0/Te5zfDgTV4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/sNBTROy0izE/s200/248162_1571604508948_1800586894_980545_5668813_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="156" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">would come in everyday to get his...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FlFaghifEHk/Te5zyUvgQsI/AAAAAAAAAFc/I-YJVowm5SU/s1600/imagesCAXUQMTE.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FlFaghifEHk/Te5zyUvgQsI/AAAAAAAAAFc/I-YJVowm5SU/s200/imagesCAXUQMTE.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">and...</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8VgJCealCQA/Te50ElPrFlI/AAAAAAAAAFg/MMJeQHBGYo4/s1600/imagesCAN3JS9E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="137" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8VgJCealCQA/Te50ElPrFlI/AAAAAAAAAFg/MMJeQHBGYo4/s200/imagesCAN3JS9E.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">snacks</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">walked up the the ...</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qJNh5YIOYWw/Te50SChJ_6I/AAAAAAAAAFk/khJOKlnxZbc/s1600/imagesCARV4FJZ.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qJNh5YIOYWw/Te50SChJ_6I/AAAAAAAAAFk/khJOKlnxZbc/s200/imagesCARV4FJZ.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">register</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> flopped out his...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pQS501B1TLY/Te50lH1mWqI/AAAAAAAAAFo/0W9ZC8NmXu4/s1600/imagesCAOMSEXD.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pQS501B1TLY/Te50lH1mWqI/AAAAAAAAAFo/0W9ZC8NmXu4/s200/imagesCAOMSEXD.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">money</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> but never spoke a word to...</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Billirella</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">As time went on...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> continued on in her...</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b5ASG_5Azxs/Te51Tk09BrI/AAAAAAAAAFw/WCmWCOT1ubE/s1600/imagesCAX2F6T1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b5ASG_5Azxs/Te51Tk09BrI/AAAAAAAAAFw/WCmWCOT1ubE/s200/imagesCAX2F6T1.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">unhappy</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">marriage to a... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iTn-WxgrG_U/Te51k4d1E6I/AAAAAAAAAF0/RSoit-rB4gk/s1600/imagesCASJZTRF.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iTn-WxgrG_U/Te51k4d1E6I/AAAAAAAAAF0/RSoit-rB4gk/s200/imagesCASJZTRF.jpeg" t8="true" width="146" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evil Villian</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Wishing each day that her...</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r1mIM2nweZ8/Te51tB-rhqI/AAAAAAAAAF4/j-j95muaIm8/s1600/5940_1023796214083_1800586894_51564_263770_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r1mIM2nweZ8/Te51tB-rhqI/AAAAAAAAAF4/j-j95muaIm8/s200/5940_1023796214083_1800586894_51564_263770_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="181" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prince Charming</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">would...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PywDVbdr-W8/Te517bY7s3I/AAAAAAAAAF8/3O4gdY8Iqpw/s1600/imagesCAKC6309.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PywDVbdr-W8/Te517bY7s3I/AAAAAAAAAF8/3O4gdY8Iqpw/s200/imagesCAKC6309.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sweep</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> her off her...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mTGXP_OKbNw/Te52HD7gibI/AAAAAAAAAGA/fW7ALG4-dh8/s1600/imagesCA4FOA0Z.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mTGXP_OKbNw/Te52HD7gibI/AAAAAAAAAGA/fW7ALG4-dh8/s200/imagesCA4FOA0Z.jpeg" t8="true" width="168" /></a>.</div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">finally decided it was...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4bkhJJemIj8/Te52bBvM7tI/AAAAAAAAAGE/lj80qIw8yO4/s1600/imagesCABHA2RC.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4bkhJJemIj8/Te52bBvM7tI/AAAAAAAAAGE/lj80qIw8yO4/s200/imagesCABHA2RC.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">to leave the evil...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iTn-WxgrG_U/Te51k4d1E6I/AAAAAAAAAF0/RSoit-rB4gk/s1600/imagesCASJZTRF.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iTn-WxgrG_U/Te51k4d1E6I/AAAAAAAAAF0/RSoit-rB4gk/s200/imagesCASJZTRF.jpeg" t8="true" width="146" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">and moved back...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vUVhTfUzyoY/Te525_8glnI/AAAAAAAAAGI/bunsekc60RI/s1600/imagesCA0TYV7D.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="138" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vUVhTfUzyoY/Te525_8glnI/AAAAAAAAAGI/bunsekc60RI/s200/imagesCA0TYV7D.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">with her King...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zjIGQbNI-dk/Te53Imk0HNI/AAAAAAAAAGM/YMjefxzPrqw/s1600/Daddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zjIGQbNI-dk/Te53Imk0HNI/AAAAAAAAAGM/YMjefxzPrqw/s200/Daddy.jpg" t8="true" width="155" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">and...Wicked Queen...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kD0tha_4giQ/Te53wCLASqI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/iEPRpzM_jG0/s1600/imagesCA6BFM47.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kD0tha_4giQ/Te53wCLASqI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/iEPRpzM_jG0/s200/imagesCA6BFM47.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">But...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">was not...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GsCxZufUx9w/Te54DXFuWzI/AAAAAAAAAGU/7m9RmF6xwOo/s1600/imagesCAE3CWN9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GsCxZufUx9w/Te54DXFuWzI/AAAAAAAAAGU/7m9RmF6xwOo/s200/imagesCAE3CWN9.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">because the...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iTn-WxgrG_U/Te51k4d1E6I/AAAAAAAAAF0/RSoit-rB4gk/s1600/imagesCASJZTRF.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iTn-WxgrG_U/Te51k4d1E6I/AAAAAAAAAF0/RSoit-rB4gk/s200/imagesCASJZTRF.jpeg" t8="true" width="146" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">did give her the most precious...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cnio9mCjuOE/Te54VTZDPlI/AAAAAAAAAGY/yv6g5zAxfEk/s1600/imagesCA7DUL91.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cnio9mCjuOE/Te54VTZDPlI/AAAAAAAAAGY/yv6g5zAxfEk/s200/imagesCA7DUL91.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">A bundle of joy...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVeWMVBV8M4/Te54krq2T2I/AAAAAAAAAGc/EsJUJ0r6YGQ/s1600/34452_1462901526352_1047895012_1312787_6885324_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVeWMVBV8M4/Te54krq2T2I/AAAAAAAAAGc/EsJUJ0r6YGQ/s200/34452_1462901526352_1047895012_1312787_6885324_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="150" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Day by Day and Year by Year, </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P9exlptMRX8/Te5447m9CBI/AAAAAAAAAGg/iC_yj_Y-DPk/s1600/imagesCAUUBK52.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P9exlptMRX8/Te5447m9CBI/AAAAAAAAAGg/iC_yj_Y-DPk/s200/imagesCAUUBK52.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">passed by. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aGtf2M9odW0/Te55JIuJzWI/AAAAAAAAAGk/-2c2dx_6Pws/s1600/imagesCAZDXMD1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aGtf2M9odW0/Te55JIuJzWI/AAAAAAAAAGk/-2c2dx_6Pws/s200/imagesCAZDXMD1.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">years pasted, and her wicked...Step Sister...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s1600/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s200/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="75" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">decided it was ...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xVQErWNhn3M/Te564egQzTI/AAAAAAAAAGs/tBAMss9x0xI/s1600/imagesCAB8K1XV.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xVQErWNhn3M/Te564egQzTI/AAAAAAAAAGs/tBAMss9x0xI/s200/imagesCAB8K1XV.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> to go out and... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bmf01_7pqkM/Te57GyucwII/AAAAAAAAAGw/Gd06ENtq1mk/s1600/imagesCAJ6O96E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="146" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bmf01_7pqkM/Te57GyucwII/AAAAAAAAAGw/Gd06ENtq1mk/s200/imagesCAJ6O96E.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">They ended up in a...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NZPztcvhk9k/Te57QRCLHCI/AAAAAAAAAG0/BFJXUClVLHY/s1600/imagesCAO2OQBM.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NZPztcvhk9k/Te57QRCLHCI/AAAAAAAAAG0/BFJXUClVLHY/s200/imagesCAO2OQBM.jpeg" t8="true" width="163" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">little...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iUXF0qEGDbk/Te57fzoipvI/AAAAAAAAAG4/SBgFiHMPHLI/s1600/imagesCAROYAJP.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iUXF0qEGDbk/Te57fzoipvI/AAAAAAAAAG4/SBgFiHMPHLI/s200/imagesCAROYAJP.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">The..</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D1ScRPycSbw/Te575ZyTdKI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ynGe0jRHoMY/s1600/imagesCA08JL6A.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D1ScRPycSbw/Te575ZyTdKI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ynGe0jRHoMY/s200/imagesCA08JL6A.jpeg" t8="true" width="158" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">of them...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6rnQ79ja-lU/Te58IYoIUgI/AAAAAAAAAHA/9437LFcIvBk/s1600/untitled.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6rnQ79ja-lU/Te58IYoIUgI/AAAAAAAAAHA/9437LFcIvBk/s200/untitled.bmp" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">until their...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I5njD9cGXzA/Te58UWnBoRI/AAAAAAAAAHE/TDH2iZtwzHk/s1600/imagesCAYRE9QM.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I5njD9cGXzA/Te58UWnBoRI/AAAAAAAAAHE/TDH2iZtwzHk/s200/imagesCAYRE9QM.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">were sore. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">But...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iUXF0qEGDbk/Te57fzoipvI/AAAAAAAAAG4/SBgFiHMPHLI/s1600/imagesCAROYAJP.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iUXF0qEGDbk/Te57fzoipvI/AAAAAAAAAG4/SBgFiHMPHLI/s200/imagesCAROYAJP.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">just wasn't as...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--tzoBHcc8N0/Te58nUm7VGI/AAAAAAAAAHI/5pGrBCImBfU/s1600/imagesCA5YFXKE.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--tzoBHcc8N0/Te58nUm7VGI/AAAAAAAAAHI/5pGrBCImBfU/s200/imagesCA5YFXKE.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">as they thought it would be, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">and got the...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6BNyDn7zY3I/Te58yMifnGI/AAAAAAAAAHM/NczKZOb8NBw/s1600/imagesCA2M98JI.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6BNyDn7zY3I/Te58yMifnGI/AAAAAAAAAHM/NczKZOb8NBw/s200/imagesCA2M98JI.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">to move on to the next... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iUXF0qEGDbk/Te57fzoipvI/AAAAAAAAAG4/SBgFiHMPHLI/s1600/imagesCAROYAJP.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iUXF0qEGDbk/Te57fzoipvI/AAAAAAAAAG4/SBgFiHMPHLI/s200/imagesCAROYAJP.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">On their way out the...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f5uDwzj_rrs/Te59HIQKFiI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/q2BKFOciw9Y/s1600/imagesCALTX6CN.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f5uDwzj_rrs/Te59HIQKFiI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/q2BKFOciw9Y/s200/imagesCALTX6CN.jpeg" t8="true" width="149" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">ran right into the center of...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r1mIM2nweZ8/Te51tB-rhqI/AAAAAAAAAF4/j-j95muaIm8/s1600/5940_1023796214083_1800586894_51564_263770_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r1mIM2nweZ8/Te51tB-rhqI/AAAAAAAAAF4/j-j95muaIm8/s200/5940_1023796214083_1800586894_51564_263770_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="181" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tRfnVWj_V7Q/Te59c4_AEeI/AAAAAAAAAHU/hfXOjKBfRyI/s1600/imagesCAVGRWYM.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tRfnVWj_V7Q/Te59c4_AEeI/AAAAAAAAAHU/hfXOjKBfRyI/s200/imagesCAVGRWYM.jpeg" t8="true" width="177" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbvWEA21t0/Te5zfDgTV4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/sNBTROy0izE/s1600/248162_1571604508948_1800586894_980545_5668813_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbvWEA21t0/Te5zfDgTV4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/sNBTROy0izE/s200/248162_1571604508948_1800586894_980545_5668813_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="156" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">flashed his beautiful white...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DaqcP9FHY24/Te59xVtkyxI/AAAAAAAAAHY/2wK8E-_kJoE/s1600/untitled1.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DaqcP9FHY24/Te59xVtkyxI/AAAAAAAAAHY/2wK8E-_kJoE/s200/untitled1.bmp" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">and...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">melted to...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eHF5WYz_XIk/Te5-Ac_uiCI/AAAAAAAAAHc/-acd_wlZMwU/s1600/imagesCAPYUMC9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eHF5WYz_XIk/Te5-Ac_uiCI/AAAAAAAAAHc/-acd_wlZMwU/s200/imagesCAPYUMC9.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">in his...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qFlt1gSTDfc/Te5-RP24_QI/AAAAAAAAAHg/P1PUxLbi-u4/s1600/imagesCAMJ4OEA.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qFlt1gSTDfc/Te5-RP24_QI/AAAAAAAAAHg/P1PUxLbi-u4/s200/imagesCAMJ4OEA.jpeg" t8="true" width="147" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">As the two...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-saTzwGE-zDU/Te5-x-mMEFI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Ry-yhTgIWws/s1600/imagesCAN18PM5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="146" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-saTzwGE-zDU/Te5-x-mMEFI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Ry-yhTgIWws/s200/imagesCAN18PM5.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: Verdana;">turned on their...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BN3avLi3694/Te5_B5nrHKI/AAAAAAAAAHo/LCWYxcd8JkQ/s1600/imagesCA1AAQR4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="109" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BN3avLi3694/Te5_B5nrHKI/AAAAAAAAAHo/LCWYxcd8JkQ/s200/imagesCA1AAQR4.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">to return to their...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-map0O4d00l0/Te5_R1NESyI/AAAAAAAAAHs/QvKdrwvFEGw/s1600/imagesCAX3BHS7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-map0O4d00l0/Te5_R1NESyI/AAAAAAAAAHs/QvKdrwvFEGw/s200/imagesCAX3BHS7.jpeg" t8="true" width="185" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">the wicked...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s1600/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s200/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="75" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">had her...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sVZOjYIi1WU/Te5_q8jRIAI/AAAAAAAAAHw/9tW7kf0K0P8/s1600/imagesCA2H30ND.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sVZOjYIi1WU/Te5_q8jRIAI/AAAAAAAAAHw/9tW7kf0K0P8/s200/imagesCA2H30ND.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">trained on...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GXXAKWfykz4/Te5zU0-ygcI/AAAAAAAAAFU/A0R_VoMxd88/s1600/249197_1572156882757_1800586894_981128_246271_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GXXAKWfykz4/Te5zU0-ygcI/AAAAAAAAAFU/A0R_VoMxd88/s200/249197_1572156882757_1800586894_981128_246271_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="178" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">began to...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rlEtNHikAWE/Te6AEh5G2jI/AAAAAAAAAH0/tKFN_obT_-I/s1600/imagesCA0XIVY3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rlEtNHikAWE/Te6AEh5G2jI/AAAAAAAAAH0/tKFN_obT_-I/s200/imagesCA0XIVY3.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">inside, the...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EUnEqxcoCKo/Te6AUWv-tpI/AAAAAAAAAH4/WBzcT4BX0w8/s1600/imagesCAAJI9IB.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="123" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EUnEqxcoCKo/Te6AUWv-tpI/AAAAAAAAAH4/WBzcT4BX0w8/s200/imagesCAAJI9IB.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">of losing...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbvWEA21t0/Te5zfDgTV4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/sNBTROy0izE/s1600/248162_1571604508948_1800586894_980545_5668813_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbvWEA21t0/Te5zfDgTV4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/sNBTROy0izE/s200/248162_1571604508948_1800586894_980545_5668813_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="156" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">to the...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s1600/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s200/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="75" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">was just too much to... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EpQE6I-gjqI/Te6AtD_InPI/AAAAAAAAAH8/_SvYQ5eYga0/s1600/imagesCAMCF3UH.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EpQE6I-gjqI/Te6AtD_InPI/AAAAAAAAAH8/_SvYQ5eYga0/s200/imagesCAMCF3UH.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">The...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s1600/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s320/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="121" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">walked over to...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r1mIM2nweZ8/Te51tB-rhqI/AAAAAAAAAF4/j-j95muaIm8/s1600/5940_1023796214083_1800586894_51564_263770_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r1mIM2nweZ8/Te51tB-rhqI/AAAAAAAAAF4/j-j95muaIm8/s200/5940_1023796214083_1800586894_51564_263770_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="181" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">and asked him to...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0JEVrXFq-DI/Te6BDeXGFkI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pqyE25xayhc/s1600/imagesCAT1RTHF.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0JEVrXFq-DI/Te6BDeXGFkI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pqyE25xayhc/s1600/imagesCAT1RTHF.jpeg" t8="true" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">sat and...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cuk8m-rTARg/Te6BW7d6mNI/AAAAAAAAAIE/OblOmCea1sI/s1600/imagesCAT5Y0A7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cuk8m-rTARg/Te6BW7d6mNI/AAAAAAAAAIE/OblOmCea1sI/s200/imagesCAT5Y0A7.jpeg" t8="true" width="193" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">at the sight of them...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v0dgLCZ7QNI/Te6BphysEqI/AAAAAAAAAII/PJjzsDWYDdE/s1600/imagesCAZK15M8.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v0dgLCZ7QNI/Te6BphysEqI/AAAAAAAAAII/PJjzsDWYDdE/s200/imagesCAZK15M8.jpeg" t8="true" width="125" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">in each other's...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ylRvNxgOWt8/Te6CDnad3nI/AAAAAAAAAIM/z7Oj6rSO6iU/s1600/imagesCAMVOV9M.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ylRvNxgOWt8/Te6CDnad3nI/AAAAAAAAAIM/z7Oj6rSO6iU/s200/imagesCAMVOV9M.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">knew she had...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vpWb3VvXdro/Te6CUThGDXI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/iYTMqwp4CBI/s1600/untitled2.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vpWb3VvXdro/Te6CUThGDXI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/iYTMqwp4CBI/s200/untitled2.bmp" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">As they made their way back to the...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-map0O4d00l0/Te5_R1NESyI/AAAAAAAAAHs/QvKdrwvFEGw/s1600/imagesCAX3BHS7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-map0O4d00l0/Te5_R1NESyI/AAAAAAAAAHs/QvKdrwvFEGw/s200/imagesCAX3BHS7.jpeg" t8="true" width="185" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">where...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">sat, </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbvWEA21t0/Te5zfDgTV4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/sNBTROy0izE/s1600/248162_1571604508948_1800586894_980545_5668813_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbvWEA21t0/Te5zfDgTV4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/sNBTROy0izE/s200/248162_1571604508948_1800586894_980545_5668813_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="156" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">began to make...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d1W6d0U-DTc/Te6CxyW86ZI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Ejj5jak3qjg/s1600/imagesCAJACH41.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d1W6d0U-DTc/Te6CxyW86ZI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Ejj5jak3qjg/s1600/imagesCAJACH41.jpeg" t8="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">at the young... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OPZtaIWaRbY/Te6DCZz3lOI/AAAAAAAAAIY/z5bf0YxxB48/s1600/imagesCASZL3H9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OPZtaIWaRbY/Te6DCZz3lOI/AAAAAAAAAIY/z5bf0YxxB48/s200/imagesCASZL3H9.jpeg" t8="true" width="122" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">The wicked...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s1600/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s200/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="75" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: Verdana;">grew tired of the small...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ejlq9_-cM-o/Te6DVK3JvPI/AAAAAAAAAIc/zN1NC0xVv_0/s1600/imagesCA8J2RJ4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ejlq9_-cM-o/Te6DVK3JvPI/AAAAAAAAAIc/zN1NC0xVv_0/s200/imagesCA8J2RJ4.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">between the...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JtOHltOpuAM/Te6DgMw9ZGI/AAAAAAAAAIg/ur3dEWW8hcA/s1600/imagesCA9T0KBB.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JtOHltOpuAM/Te6DgMw9ZGI/AAAAAAAAAIg/ur3dEWW8hcA/s200/imagesCA9T0KBB.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">and made her way about...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iUXF0qEGDbk/Te57fzoipvI/AAAAAAAAAG4/SBgFiHMPHLI/s1600/imagesCAROYAJP.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iUXF0qEGDbk/Te57fzoipvI/AAAAAAAAAG4/SBgFiHMPHLI/s200/imagesCAROYAJP.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">began to explain to...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GXXAKWfykz4/Te5zU0-ygcI/AAAAAAAAAFU/A0R_VoMxd88/s1600/249197_1572156882757_1800586894_981128_246271_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GXXAKWfykz4/Te5zU0-ygcI/AAAAAAAAAFU/A0R_VoMxd88/s200/249197_1572156882757_1800586894_981128_246271_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="178" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">how she seen him every day at... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xH1NmI8YZIU/Te5vdCYo9qI/AAAAAAAAAE0/5A1vMdIBCAw/s1600/SpeedwayLogo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xH1NmI8YZIU/Te5vdCYo9qI/AAAAAAAAAE0/5A1vMdIBCAw/s1600/SpeedwayLogo.gif" t8="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">She also explained how he would never...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aqlUNRNjUGo/Te6EJNcTPKI/AAAAAAAAAIk/c6jssciY3oc/s1600/imagesCAF6PYIO.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aqlUNRNjUGo/Te6EJNcTPKI/AAAAAAAAAIk/c6jssciY3oc/s200/imagesCAF6PYIO.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">or...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KjNVylczBxM/Te6ES36qF2I/AAAAAAAAAIo/FcBI5pCZhTc/s1600/imagesCA7IV71J.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="100" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KjNVylczBxM/Te6ES36qF2I/AAAAAAAAAIo/FcBI5pCZhTc/s200/imagesCA7IV71J.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">in her... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HPJBThj5m5g/Te6EfkIntEI/AAAAAAAAAIs/mRA-S1JZhFY/s1600/imagesCA785IJB.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HPJBThj5m5g/Te6EfkIntEI/AAAAAAAAAIs/mRA-S1JZhFY/s200/imagesCA785IJB.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbvWEA21t0/Te5zfDgTV4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/sNBTROy0izE/s1600/248162_1571604508948_1800586894_980545_5668813_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbvWEA21t0/Te5zfDgTV4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/sNBTROy0izE/s200/248162_1571604508948_1800586894_980545_5668813_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="156" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">apoligized, and he realized what he had been...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rIVcFKJs8sk/Te6EwAGmVoI/AAAAAAAAAIw/ncJSeNgVTcI/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rIVcFKJs8sk/Te6EwAGmVoI/AAAAAAAAAIw/ncJSeNgVTcI/s200/images.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">They carried their...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IJRWlmrUzYw/Te6E6_HCJ6I/AAAAAAAAAI0/SPC2TMapGL8/s1600/imagesCAX59UJ0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IJRWlmrUzYw/Te6E6_HCJ6I/AAAAAAAAAI0/SPC2TMapGL8/s200/imagesCAX59UJ0.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">on late into the... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8TByukSJR9c/Te6FDysC0SI/AAAAAAAAAI4/fC2SzEtJ-wY/s1600/imagesCAEMS1U7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8TByukSJR9c/Te6FDysC0SI/AAAAAAAAAI4/fC2SzEtJ-wY/s200/imagesCAEMS1U7.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">They talked about so many...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QVdkCVP5LGE/Te6FN_kwDtI/AAAAAAAAAI8/FkrFRFmMkJs/s1600/imagesCAIVBJ9W.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QVdkCVP5LGE/Te6FN_kwDtI/AAAAAAAAAI8/FkrFRFmMkJs/s200/imagesCAIVBJ9W.jpeg" t8="true" width="142" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">in their lives. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">They instantly fell in... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pBZzJUJdGrg/Te6FaEINJiI/AAAAAAAAAJA/SwE5piAtV4o/s1600/imagesCAXGBXOA.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pBZzJUJdGrg/Te6FaEINJiI/AAAAAAAAAJA/SwE5piAtV4o/s1600/imagesCAXGBXOA.jpeg" t8="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r1mIM2nweZ8/Te51tB-rhqI/AAAAAAAAAF4/j-j95muaIm8/s1600/5940_1023796214083_1800586894_51564_263770_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r1mIM2nweZ8/Te51tB-rhqI/AAAAAAAAAF4/j-j95muaIm8/s200/5940_1023796214083_1800586894_51564_263770_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="181" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s1600/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEsAdgryqHM/Te507t4UzUI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Qs66SCeQVsk/s200/253806_1753513239350_1284483040_31487143_2362980_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="183" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">have lived...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-flUsbd3EcNE/Te6F8h8t69I/AAAAAAAAAJE/zlg5RQ_naXc/s1600/imagesCA6JSWS6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-flUsbd3EcNE/Te6F8h8t69I/AAAAAAAAAJE/zlg5RQ_naXc/s200/imagesCA6JSWS6.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">for...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NNRH8poHsbU/Te6GJD92egI/AAAAAAAAAJI/czHdaTxqnzg/s1600/imagesCAW9HM4P.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NNRH8poHsbU/Te6GJD92egI/AAAAAAAAAJI/czHdaTxqnzg/s200/imagesCAW9HM4P.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">years and went on to have a little Prince</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yvEhwlS92Oc/Te6Gq4_HVuI/AAAAAAAAAJM/Mm433tIFZNU/s1600/63034_159786210701273_100000096855358_505671_1160267_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yvEhwlS92Oc/Te6Gq4_HVuI/AAAAAAAAAJM/Mm433tIFZNU/s200/63034_159786210701273_100000096855358_505671_1160267_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="180" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> and Princess...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lV8n9Xnommg/Te6G2QkDisI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/EnMDrJkknHA/s1600/IMG04502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lV8n9Xnommg/Te6G2QkDisI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/EnMDrJkknHA/s200/IMG04502.jpg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Oh and as for the wicked....</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s1600/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iQQZRIm2cps/Te56eekpo6I/AAAAAAAAAGo/6Di0XlNl5b0/s200/5249_101374453208690_100000084075345_39885_4498321_n.jpeg" t8="true" width="75" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">she is still waiting for her </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-flUsbd3EcNE/Te6F8h8t69I/AAAAAAAAAJE/zlg5RQ_naXc/s1600/imagesCA6JSWS6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-flUsbd3EcNE/Te6F8h8t69I/AAAAAAAAAJE/zlg5RQ_naXc/s200/imagesCA6JSWS6.jpeg" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">...bwahahaha!!!!!!!!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="http://youtu.be/fRamB30E9mU">http://youtu.be/fRamB30E9mU</a></span></div>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-78298944718224648542011-06-01T15:16:00.000-07:002011-06-01T15:16:45.385-07:00Time Alone<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ok, I am sitting here alone, which I have been for the last 3 days and to be honest with you...I HATE IT.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I haven't been alone in years. And I haven't been without any of my family members since Beth left 4 years ago. I haven't let any of my kids or my husband out of my sight since. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">My husband and my son have left and went to Joplin, MO. They left Monday to help with the tornado victims. And my daughter leaves every day at 5:30 to go to Vacation Bible School. She usually don't return home until 9:00. In the three and a half hours that I am alone, it is complete torture. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I always thought, man it would be nice to have the house all to myself for a little while, or boy it should would be nice if Rob could just get out of the house for a little while..my opinion has changed. I want him back home. I want my son back home. I know they are there helping and the needs of the many out weight the needs of the few, but I am just dying without them. I am constantly scared that something is going to happen. I am scared my son is going to get hurt and I am not going to be there to take care of him. I am scared something might go wrong with Rob's heart since I am not there breathing down his neck every second of the day...telling him to sit down. And I am scared they just wont return home.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Rob did call me last night and told me the transmission gave out on the van they went in and they are telling him there is no money, let alone no place to get it fixed. Is this going to put them off coming home this weekend? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">They told my son that there was an age limit on things he can do. So they have him passing out food and boxes of clothing and things like that. He said he really is enjoying what he is doing and he feels it is more rewarding then anything else cause he gets to interact with the victims personally. Oh and he has a girlfriend. A little old lady has just completely taken him under her wing and taking really good care of him. God, thank you for her!!!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Ok just wanted to come on and say that I miss them. My husband is my life line, and when is is absent..so is my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-31702433337621603342011-05-25T06:44:00.000-07:002011-05-25T06:44:36.979-07:00Through The Years<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was sitting here going through some old pictures, because a friend of mine wanted to see some old photos. It got me looking through them and remembering some of the good times. While scanning through these pictures I found some of me growing up and I thought I would share with you. Only a few people read this, if any, so I figure it was safe to post them here without too much humiliation...lol</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">OK on with it then.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4WzPk3QV8ao/Td0BgorPLxI/AAAAAAAAADQ/wTA5-21wjmU/s1600/scan0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4WzPk3QV8ao/Td0BgorPLxI/AAAAAAAAADQ/wTA5-21wjmU/s320/scan0024.jpg" t8="true" width="218" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was my very first picture taken professionally. I was 3 months old in this picture and in my opinion...the cutest I have ever been..lol</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JNrHQlAAOnA/Td0BossZKvI/AAAAAAAAADY/xGitBh6OVGI/s1600/scan0035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JNrHQlAAOnA/Td0BossZKvI/AAAAAAAAADY/xGitBh6OVGI/s320/scan0035.jpg" t8="true" width="221" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you see that hair...my mom use to style it like a cupie doll I had. I have seen the pictures, and well...I looked just like the doll. 8 months old.</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ncs-YlrTjJI/Td0B6IGfDhI/AAAAAAAAADg/ndz8wzufCi4/s1600/scan0038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ncs-YlrTjJI/Td0B6IGfDhI/AAAAAAAAADg/ndz8wzufCi4/s320/scan0038.jpg" t8="true" width="235" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is me at one year old with one of my most favorite people in the world..My grandpa. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r0m43IkAWy4/Td0BZyChgKI/AAAAAAAAADM/hG1mnP0DyHg/s1600/scan0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r0m43IkAWy4/Td0BZyChgKI/AAAAAAAAADM/hG1mnP0DyHg/s320/scan0002.jpg" t8="true" width="216" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">A year and 10 months old here. This picture is stuck forever to a piece of glass. Ok I think I was pretty cute here too.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NZkZtvXw_To/Td0B4L1GnkI/AAAAAAAAADc/SYRUEBk-HYA/s1600/scan0039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NZkZtvXw_To/Td0B4L1GnkI/AAAAAAAAADc/SYRUEBk-HYA/s320/scan0039.jpg" t8="true" width="224" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here, I am the ripe old age of 5. Funny story with this picture, besides the clothes...don't get me started on that. It was the morning of pictures. I wasn't in school yet, but my older sister was. Back then you could take your other kids in on picture day to get theirs done too. Well Mama thought it would be great fun to dress me up and get mine done too. Only, this very same morning, I got up all sleepy, and tripped I guess over air, and hit the side of my face on the coffee table. It swelled up like you wouldn't believe and turned yellow black and blue. You can see it on my left side. Instead of calling off the picture, mama still had to get it done..lol</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mBs1LcHy56c/Td0B9GLNdZI/AAAAAAAAADk/dS21n28o2JU/s1600/scan0040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mBs1LcHy56c/Td0B9GLNdZI/AAAAAAAAADk/dS21n28o2JU/s320/scan0040.jpg" t8="true" width="223" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yep made it to kindergarten safely. Age 6. My hair use to be really long. I didn't get it cut until my 3rd grade year. It use to hand down over my bottom. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mRzQO0954cM/Td0CAn15BRI/AAAAAAAAADo/kHfJe-n5LbA/s1600/scan0041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mRzQO0954cM/Td0CAn15BRI/AAAAAAAAADo/kHfJe-n5LbA/s320/scan0041.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is my husband's all time favorite. I was in fourth grade..age 9 I believe. This was our second week of school. I got transfered from my nice teacher into the wicked witch of the 4th grades class cause the nice teacher had too many kids...only 3 kids got transfered and I was one of the lucky ones. But I was so nervious. I was biting my lip..lol</span></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qfAT-Wt6yN8/Td0CDJYaT2I/AAAAAAAAADs/beCirUKe7t0/s1600/scan0043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qfAT-Wt6yN8/Td0CDJYaT2I/AAAAAAAAADs/beCirUKe7t0/s320/scan0043.jpg" t8="true" width="234" /></a></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Beginning of my fifth grade year before we moved to Laura. 10 years old and my freckles popped out with them big teeth...Lordy!</span></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiXRTaCm8Dk/Td0CFQfSuKI/AAAAAAAAADw/sLCNde8x_dc/s1600/scan0044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiXRTaCm8Dk/Td0CFQfSuKI/AAAAAAAAADw/sLCNde8x_dc/s320/scan0044.jpg" t8="true" width="252" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">6th grade, hated my new school, hated the people, hated the way I looked, hated the town, hated the teachers and so on and so on! Age 12</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yjDSY1f0xzI/Td0CIHNP0PI/AAAAAAAAAD0/p2LMDQSf-3o/s1600/scan0045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yjDSY1f0xzI/Td0CIHNP0PI/AAAAAAAAAD0/p2LMDQSf-3o/s320/scan0045.jpg" t8="true" width="257" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am not sure what I was thinking here. What is with that square hair. I thought I was looking good that morning and even my sister told me I did...why didn't I learn not to listen to her back then! My junior year and my very last year of high school.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q334vK10_CE/Td0Hfn8_xXI/AAAAAAAAAD4/CEPxbUgIJAE/s1600/B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q334vK10_CE/Td0Hfn8_xXI/AAAAAAAAAD4/CEPxbUgIJAE/s1600/B.jpg" t8="true" /></a></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me now, well, this was about 4 years ago, of coursed lightened so you don't see all my flaws. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Enjoy the laughs and get it out of your systems...I wont be doing this again..lol. In my eyes I don't see that I have changed a bit, I still look like the big toothed, freckle faced kid I was back then.</span></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><br />
B</span></div>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-80873156961310041112011-05-23T21:52:00.000-07:002011-05-23T21:56:33.418-07:00Helping Someone Find Someone...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tonight a girl I use to go to school with posted a link to this article...</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HN8hmAqPqak/Tds2qfCaq9I/AAAAAAAAADI/XxWhStZXqvQ/s1600/endtimes.jpeg" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.end-times.info/">http://www.end-times.info/</a></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She then asked if someone would read it and help explain it to her in Kindergarten terms. I had seen that nobody had answered her. So I went and read it, and I must say it was an interesting article. I even learned a few things myself. And I would suggest it to anyone that is curious.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I wont go into our conversation but this lady is terrified of death. Which told me right away that she is not saved yet. I helped her as much as I could, and I hope I did help her in finding what she was looking for. One of the things she did want my opinion on was did I think 2012 was going to happen.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">This is a hard subject for me to explain but I am going to try. I don't know if I am right and I am not claiming to but here goes.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I have said before, that I don't believe anything will happen as far as the world ending on Dec. 21, 2012. Not Dec 21, 2012 anyways. Could the world end next year....yes. It could also end tomorrow. Something may happen on Dec. 21, yes it could because the planets lining up is a fact. They will, and it has never been seen before. So it very well could have some impact..but it might not either.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">What I explained to her was that if she was saved, she would no longer worry what is going to happen next. She just had to focus on the here and now. And God and Jesus are here and now. I told her the same thing I am going to tell everyone else out there that might read this cause they are wanting to be saved. If you are one of those people that want facts, that need cold hard evidence, you may not ever find what you are looking for...specially if you don't know what to look for. God is not going to appear before you and say, I AM. He is in our hearts, in our every day life, He is that voice that tells you all will be fine, He is the arms that wrap around you when you need comforting. He is in EVERYTHING...that's where she should start looking for the facts. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I will leave you with this...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Clothing yourself in the Lord, happens one sock at a time. And by asking questions, is how you become fully clothed. And when you are, that's when you can take that leap of faith. It's like jumping off a cliff and it is very scary, but once it does happen you will be clean and it is a fresh start, and you wont fear what is coming next or death.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span></div>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-80496983215543940402011-05-22T09:39:00.000-07:002011-05-22T09:58:18.057-07:00Just My Two Cents About 5/21/11<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here is it Sunday May 22, 2011 and I am here to write to you all and give you my opinion of what Mr. Harold Camping did to the world by saying it would end yesterday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Many of the things I am seeing on Facebook is, "I was left behind" in a joking manner, "Nobody knows when and time it will end." And so on and so on. I even seen this picture.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jrwuv1AWAjw/Tdk0eGqTTMI/AAAAAAAAADE/oX8jZcP5WAQ/s1600/247048_10150249582198064_502018063_8865768_7061651_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jrwuv1AWAjw/Tdk0eGqTTMI/AAAAAAAAADE/oX8jZcP5WAQ/s320/247048_10150249582198064_502018063_8865768_7061651_n.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have seen this picture several times today, and people that have posted it seems to be right with God.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Here is my view on it. Some of you may agree with it, and others my send me hate mail every day of my life but here it goes.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Mr. Camping, believed whole hearted that his prediction was true. He believed it so much that he sent his church out into the world, the last days that they knew of, and handed out leaflets and preached and posted billboards telling everyone to prepare themselves. To find God before it is too late. The rapture would happen and they didn't want to be left behind.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Well, where I am from, where is this wrong. I didn't fall into the beliefs of this man, but I did, as a Christian, see where he was coming from. He believed in his faith so much that he put himself out there for the world to poke fun of, to hate on and to laughed at so. He knew that the consciences of his action could land him in a world of criticism, yet again for failing to predict the worlds end.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">When 6:01 p.m. came around, and nothing happened that we know of, imagine how Mr. Camping felt. Was he upset knowing that he was wrong...or was he glad. Mr. Camping must have felt the turning in his stomach that he was wrong and would be seen as a fool in worlds eyes, but then glad that he was wrong, and still with his children and family. But yet, even though there was a fear of his that he was wrong again...he continued to stand up for his faith and what he believed in. REMEMBER: Jesus was crusified for standing up for what he believed in. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">And honestly where was he wrong. Yes wrong in knowing when and time it will happen, but what harm did he do? Did he bring people into the Lord? I would say more then likely someone was saved during all that...and is that not worth it. Did he get someone to pick up their Bible for the first time and start to read it? I would say probably so. Did he put fear into people's hearts? Yes, of that I am sure. But isn't this stuff a true Christian is suppose to do. Teach, lead, help, and help people find what they have been missing.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I do know that even though I didn't believe the rapture or end of the world would happen, I did do something yesterday that I have never done before. I sat my family down and asked them to pray with me. Isn't it to be better to scare people to help them get right with God, then to sit by and do nothing? I read my Bible and I know the chain of events to come just as everyone else that has read it. And if you have read it, then more then likely you were not scared. But I had two children that have never read it before. Only have they had it read to them. I wanted to make sure that they were ok, and see if they had any questions. So yes, I took into consideration that Mr. Camping could be right, and I wanted to prepare my family, just in case. One of these days someone is going to be right...think about that. Every day someone is predicting it is the last day...soon, one will be right.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I have a 14 year old daughter that would stand up and leave the room anytime the end of the world was talked about. It would scare her so bad sometimes she would end up in tears. Let me tell you about Madison's story.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Since this talk has come about, and it was all she was hearing, she decided to talk to her teacher at Wednesday night church. They sat her down and explain some things to her. That night, my daughter came home with a huge smile on her face. When I asked her what she was smiling for, her reply was "Mama, I believe I was Saved tonight." My heart lite up. I sat her down and talked to her about how she felt and what was going on inside her mind and heart. We talked about this for a little while and I have come to the faith that she has been saved. I was hoping and praying that she had been. I can't say for sure if she was or not, it's not my soul...it is hers and only she and the Good Lord know for sure.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">But what I do know, is that, that same little 14 year old girl that ran out of the room every time the world's end was mentioned, sat down yesterday when the world was suppose to end, and read the entire book of Revelations. A child that was so scared of seeing the world end, sat down and read what would happen when it does end.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">So, I just let people say what they want. I say that the Bible has told me to never call anyone a Fool. So, Mr. Camping, I don't believe you are a fool. Thank you for taking that leap and actually leading some people to God. No, you shouldn't have put a date and time stamp on it, but I wont criticize you. And I witnessed miracles during this time, and for that...thank you. And to those fellow Christians out there, I only have one thing to say to you. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">"Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." Mark 7:1-2</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span></div>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-53072696688767058552011-05-19T13:36:00.000-07:002011-05-19T13:36:30.433-07:00To Hickory North Carolina<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hello Hickory North Carolina! I notice you have come here several times but have never said a word to me. I don't know who you are but I thought I would say hello and say I have noticed ya coming back a couple times a week. I wanna say thanks, although I don't know if you keep coming back because I am entertaining or you go through some of the same stuff or you just get here by complete accident! Say hello sometime, I'd like to hear from ya! =)</span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-8341323970302597192011-05-19T13:30:00.000-07:002011-05-19T13:30:36.240-07:00Hitting The 40 Year Mark<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was born in 1972. That means that I am right now 38 and will be turning 39 in November. What does this mean? Well, to me it means that I am quickly approaching my 40's and really nothing to show for it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I have no home that is mine, no career, no savings, no anything else that I should have at this age. I promised myself that by the age of 40 I would be set, should anything happen and I am left alone. Right now if I was left alone I am afraid I would sink faster then a paddle boat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">The best part about turning older is the fact that your sex drive, in women anyway, hits a high gear and you start to wonder what in the heck has happened to you. The bad part about that is, you must make sure your husband is in the best shape of his life, cause he isn't that eager young teenage boy as before.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Another bad part of that is the start of that unforgiving M word. Yes you know what I am talking about. Sweating is the worst part. And it is so embarrassing. When you are wringing your shirt out and your hair is soaking wet and you look around and nobody else looks even remotely hot. Then the emotions. One day up, three days down. Depressed, Depressed, ok but Still depressed, to has perky as a 14 year old. Menopause is a roller coaster of which seems there is no end in sight...and the kicker....its ONLY PRE-MENOPAUSE!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Oh yeah, being a woman and getting older isn't easy. When I worked at a nursing home, I always wondered why the older women were mostly bitter. They hated the aids. It was like they were pissed off at us cause we were younger. The older men...such a delight. The majority of them were just as sweet and kind. Now, being a woman and getting older...I now know why the older women were so bitter. We have to go through a lot!!!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Men get up, take a shower, swipe a comb through their hair, put on deodorant if your lucky, get dressed and out the door they go. Never to have their friend visit monthly, sometimes not at all, which causes more emotions, never go through the pain of child birth, no menopause...no nothing. Sometimes I think to myself...I CAN'T WAIT TO MEET EVE!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I guess I am not being fair to the men, they do have the hard job of bringing enough money home to support the family, then hold the couch down so it don't go anywhere. Oh yes I am not dumb to the fact that men have midlife crisses...but it is usually just because they realize they are getting old. That's another thing, why is it that men get more handsome when they get older? My husband, his greying hair is just as soft and whispy as it was when it was all one color. My greying hair is so corse it wont even dye. His wrinkles are in his forehead...the worry lines, and can be covered with his hair..Mine..around my mouth. He is still as thin if not thinner then the day I met him....Me..my butt is bigger, my belly is bigger and I AM SHIRINKING! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">So I guess my point is this. As 40 gets nearer, my dreams of being thin and beautiful with a house and sweat free gets farther. I am becoming...my mother.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-35332774866273267162011-05-16T08:01:00.000-07:002011-05-16T08:01:25.260-07:00Home Sick<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I woke this morning with incrediable pain in my heart. I had been crying in my sleep. This made no sense to me on waking, until I tried to remember my dream.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">In my dream everyone I have ever known was around me. Ones from my past and my present, dead and alive. I remember looking upon their faces and crying. Then I realized it was a place that was fimilar to me. Home...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">The way things use to be, mama was there with a big smile and looked so happy to see me. Daddy's face was stern but love filled his eyes. My sister, my brothers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends, cousins. They all looked like they did...when we were a family.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I am so very home sick. I don't even know if home sick is the right words, but I miss people. Not just any people, but the people that use to love me. I use to be so very loved. To lose a loved one is hard, but to lose every single person you have loved for 38 years is devastating.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I long to see a fimilar face. This is the longest I have ever went my entire life without seeing someone I know. I don't know anyone anymore. I see three faces every single day, and don't get me wrong, I love those 3 beautiful faces...but I need a new, old face. I need someone to hug me, someone to just really hug me til I feel I wont be able to breath. I need someone to look me in the eye and tell me how they have missed me...and mean it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Seems like I always talk the same stuff on here. I have nobody else to talk to. I guess I keep hoping that someone out there will respond, and tell me they know what I am going through. Even though I know I am not the only one, sometimes I just can't help but feel like I am the only one that has ever gone through this because I can't really explain my emotions to make people truely understand.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I want to be a little girl again. I want to wake in the morning to my mama in the kitchen cooking for her family of 8 with love in every spoon stoke. To daddy hollering at my mama to make him a cup of coffee. He never could get out of bed until that first cup. And every morning for 39 years she would have it ready to take to him. I wan't to sit at the breakfast table with all 5 of my brother's and sisters. I want Joey to steal my sausage from my plate because mine lasted the longest. We would all see who could make our sausage last the longest cause it was a treat for us. And Joey would steal from everyone's plate..lol. He had too...if you would have seen him, it took a lot of food for that Giant. I want John Paul to grunt at me instead of talking because we waited on him hand and foot and he didn't need to talk. I want Phillip singing "Killing Time" and playing along on the broom. And Autum...I will just take her at anytime our life together. She was fun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Ah, but time changes, people are lost, and time goes on...sometimes...without you. My family just had a big party and my brother said they were doing Karaokee and he missed me. I was always the entertainment for the family. It was something I did, and I thought it was something that I couldn't be replaced doing, but I guess I was..cause they had fun, and it was without me. I am glad they had fun, and I am glad they had everyone around them...I just wish I was there to see it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-53316698693259305432011-05-15T16:57:00.000-07:002011-05-15T16:57:34.142-07:00What Has Been Going On Around Here...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hello Blog readers. Not a whole lot has been going on around here but I will fill you in on what has.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Well last night on May 14th, my beautiful daughter had her 8th grade formal. She was so very pretty. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TCMcApeIIUo/TdBh__lnw5I/AAAAAAAAACE/DV4Z61tFTwE/s1600/IMG05255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TCMcApeIIUo/TdBh__lnw5I/AAAAAAAAACE/DV4Z61tFTwE/s320/IMG05255.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b_cb_fXjrKM/TdBiDwzDTWI/AAAAAAAAACI/mBmIyYt_TBw/s1600/IMG05256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b_cb_fXjrKM/TdBiDwzDTWI/AAAAAAAAACI/mBmIyYt_TBw/s320/IMG05256.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2HW4SjqIL0M/TdBiHwq0VyI/AAAAAAAAACM/duP3StLXy3M/s1600/IMG05257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2HW4SjqIL0M/TdBiHwq0VyI/AAAAAAAAACM/duP3StLXy3M/s320/IMG05257.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> (I did her hair...pretty good for someone that has never done it before)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0nBLJttuWeU/TdBiLhZHzgI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Zl9xX-1qBeI/s1600/IMG05258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0nBLJttuWeU/TdBiLhZHzgI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Zl9xX-1qBeI/s320/IMG05258.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tsuketwzHXs/TdBiPo7nFGI/AAAAAAAAACU/grW7ufhkE4E/s1600/IMG05259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tsuketwzHXs/TdBiPo7nFGI/AAAAAAAAACU/grW7ufhkE4E/s320/IMG05259.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--nOfj7oTgqM/TdBiZf7L19I/AAAAAAAAACc/8VhUSEPCgvk/s1600/IMG05249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--nOfj7oTgqM/TdBiZf7L19I/AAAAAAAAACc/8VhUSEPCgvk/s320/IMG05249.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">(the dress she decided not to wear)</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">She brought tears to my eyes as I watched her walk off and into the dance. It has only reminded me how fast time has gone by. I rememebered that little baby girl that use to run around with a blanket on her head but never, but once, ran into anything. I am so very proud of her. She has her moments where I want to back hand her, but all in all, she makes me proud.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">My son is pretty proud of himself too... He changed the brakes on our truck while his dad supervised...</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TrPi4GBBK4g/TdBi7WgNKbI/AAAAAAAAAC0/fYW_SiwcJyk/s1600/IMG05208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TrPi4GBBK4g/TdBi7WgNKbI/AAAAAAAAAC0/fYW_SiwcJyk/s320/IMG05208.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s78g-zTQJFo/TdBjAvXgXcI/AAAAAAAAAC4/IDgxMJyxQrw/s1600/IMG05212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s78g-zTQJFo/TdBjAvXgXcI/AAAAAAAAAC4/IDgxMJyxQrw/s320/IMG05212.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">He was filthy, but I was so happy that he took the interest and did it! When he was done he was so happy. Said he had a blast. He went and grabbed my camera phone with those dirty hands and insisted that I take his picture so he could remember it. I do believe that he is going to be a good man, and a woman is going to be lucky to have him. Although last night, his entire future flashed before my eyes and I have to admit...I didn't like his wife ;)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And then there is this man...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bUJMuB5Ke3w/TdBjH81O4hI/AAAAAAAAAC8/HWBWrRlNJFw/s1600/IMG05185.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bUJMuB5Ke3w/TdBjH81O4hI/AAAAAAAAAC8/HWBWrRlNJFw/s320/IMG05185.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>He just wont slow it down. Well, it has all caught up with him and he has been in bed now for three days. Aches and pains running all through him. Throwing up and very weak. As much as I like being his nurse ;) I feel so bad for him when there is nothing I can do. But a big part of me wants to yell out...I TOLD YOU SO! Men don't listen. He is wanting to go back to work so badly, and even though his illness prevents it, I am scared it is going to kill him if he don't go back. Even though he is having feelings of being less then a man...is still all the man I need!<br />
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We went for a ride on Mother's Day, which was this past Thrusday for me. I asked them to take me up to the Appalachian Trail. I just love the view from there.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jsGnnvz0xcs/TdBm_baOb5I/AAAAAAAAADA/4VYJndTQSn0/s1600/IMG05241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jsGnnvz0xcs/TdBm_baOb5I/AAAAAAAAADA/4VYJndTQSn0/s320/IMG05241.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y_t0cKJzeSU/TdBioaGzgtI/AAAAAAAAACo/HBYbDzF6nHQ/s1600/IMG05243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y_t0cKJzeSU/TdBioaGzgtI/AAAAAAAAACo/HBYbDzF6nHQ/s320/IMG05243.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B9N-n1KGEuU/TdBikVCjIXI/AAAAAAAAACk/dCP5DIpwn-o/s1600/IMG05242.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B9N-n1KGEuU/TdBikVCjIXI/AAAAAAAAACk/dCP5DIpwn-o/s320/IMG05242.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The view just makes me feel so close to God. One day, when we move up to Blairsville, I want to find my own little spot, where I can write, pray, think and just be by myself...Someplace that looks just like this.<br />
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There is a little store here as well. You can stop and rest, take a shower, eat, sleep and all that good stuff. But the neatest thing I like to see when I go is this...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l3TVy8aicWE/TdBit7uZBrI/AAAAAAAAACs/LqXVKO2HqFY/s1600/IMG05245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l3TVy8aicWE/TdBit7uZBrI/AAAAAAAAACs/LqXVKO2HqFY/s320/IMG05245.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_0SYY_c1ko8/TdBi1MB3IsI/AAAAAAAAACw/_e5sp8lrYlQ/s1600/IMG05246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_0SYY_c1ko8/TdBi1MB3IsI/AAAAAAAAACw/_e5sp8lrYlQ/s320/IMG05246.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">You can't see them very well, but a lot of people that come through here, throw their hiking shoes up in the tree. It is just filled with shoes with soles falling off, duct taped together, and just flat out filthy. But they left their mark that says...I hiked this trail and I was here. I just think it is so much fun to see. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Well, that about wraps up my week, and probably the month so far. We don't do a lot, but you know what....I enjoy what we do get to do!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">B</div>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-91922047006322479282011-05-13T11:05:00.000-07:002011-05-13T11:05:24.643-07:00Don't Know Why This Matters...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am not exactly sure why I am going to write about my illnesses and surgeries, but for some reason it is on my mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I was thinking about it last night and woke this morning and there it was still on my mind.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">When I was in my younger years the first accident I had that I can remember very clear was when my mom took me for a walk down the side walk to a yard sale. I was roughly 5 or 6 years old. I use to love to go around barefoot and that day was no different. As I was walking down the sidewalk, I stepped on something and I can still remember the pain shooting all the way up my leg. I dropped to the ground and mama looked at my foot but she wasn't sure what it was. She picked me up and carried me home. When we got home she looked at my foot and said it was a needle..but not to worry she got it and it was a part of a needle. When I stood up the pain was still shooting up my foot. She decided to take me to the ER and when they did an x-ray on my foot, there was two other parts of the needle left. The cut my foot open and found two rusted needles. Got three stitches and that was done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">A couple years later when I was around 8 or 9, there was a rock pile of little pebbles I use to like to play on. There was a couple of large rocks but I never worried too much about it. I would go to the top of the pile and slide down. Well my luck ran out one day and as I was coming down the pile my wrist went across a Sharp rock and it slit the pinkie side of my wrist. My hand came up and there was blood everywhere. The slab of skin was laying open and I ran home. Mom rushed me to the hospital and ended up with 5 stitches.</span><br />
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Around that same age, there was also a building down from our house that had an opening where the semi's would back up to unload stuff. Well this ramp would fill up with water every time it rained. My cousin and I thought it would be fun to go play in it. Well we had a heck of a good time. But that night we became very very itchy. We both broke out in hives and red rashes all over our bodies...Hello...Infantigo. We had to put purple medicine on us for a little over a week.<br />
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No other accidents until the age of 16. I was dating a guy, Chad, and just thought the world of him. Well Chad, me and my cousin became close. We hung out all the time together. Well, my cousin and Chad became a lot closer then I would have liked, but didn't find out until after the night that ruined my career. One night, this cousin got hit by a car. And when Chad came over to my house I asked him to take me to the hospital to see her. But I first wanted to stop over at her house and check on my aunt, because the girl that hit my cousin was out in front of my aunts house yelling at my aunt. Long story a little shorter, on the way over there, I don't know if Chad thought there was going to be trouble or what, but he stopped at the road that turned off to her house. Just stopped right in the middle of the road. Like he was sitting there thinking. Next thing I know he turns the corner super fast. I grab the dashboard of the truck to brace myself, but I still fell over sideways. My hands slide across the dash and over onto his lap from falling sideways. When I sat back up, the part of the hand that is between my thumb and my index finger was cut and blood was shooting out of it every time my heart would beat. I screamed bloody murder, wrapped my hand in my shirt and screamed at him to get me to my aunts house. When we get there I am covered in blood from head to toe. My aunt about fainted she said cause of all the blood. She thought I had be stabbed all over. Well we wrapped my hand in a towel and my aunt called the cops. Because come to find out I was stabbed. Chad had gotten a knife out when he stopped in the road. Had it between his legs sticking up. When I fell over my hand landed right on top of the knife. At the hospital I was in the next room where my cousin was laying. The reason I say it ruined my career, was because I had been talking to a woman and she had offered me an internship when I became a senior in Fashion Designing. She had seen my drawings and was really impressed. But, I haven't been able to draw since. When it happened, it went in through the thumb and index finger and straight down through my hand...like slicing it in half. It cut all the ligaments in my hand and when it healed, still to this day I can not move my thumb all the way backwards, like before. Anyway, it went to a lawyer and I got a nice lump sum of money that I got when I turned 18, but I never got to spend it...my sister such had a nice time with it though!<br />
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Had a gallbladder attack and had to have my gallbladder removed, but not before my pancreas returned to normal size, a week later.<br />
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When I was married the first time I was in and out of the hospital all the time when I was pregnant. Pains in my stomach. Come to find out when they cut me open due to an emergency C-section, I had a large cyst on my ovaries, so after I had her, they kept me in the operating room for 2 hours afterwards to remove the cyst.<br />
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Second C-section, I was cut open while not fully numb. The pain became so unbearable that I threw up everywhere on the operating table. They finally knocked me out.<br />
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Hospitalized for Migraines, while pregnant with my daughter.<br />
After I had my daughter, and released from the hospital, I had to return back to the ER because I was having HORRIBLE headaches because the spinal fluid was leaking out of my spine from where they did my spinal tap. They injected a huge needle into my spine and drew out fluid and shot it back in where it was leaking....Headaches instantly gone.<br />
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Another C-Section and a couple months after that a Tube ligation.<br />
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The last time I was in the hospital with anything seriously wrong was when my left breast swelled up to the size of a small watermelon. No joke. It was so painful, I think it was the most painful thing I had ever had to go through. The ER cut it open right there on the table and the most nastiest stuff went everywhere. Long story short, 3 lumpectomies later it never returned. Over the course of a year it came back 3 times. <br />
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PreDiabetic but lost weight and it took care of itself. And I believe that is it. Again not sure why it was important for me to write this but my mind wouldn't leave me alone until I did. Any questions..just ask!<br />
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BEmpty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-86200641543685042912011-05-10T20:58:00.000-07:002011-05-10T20:58:02.699-07:00We Don't Like What You May Do, BUT....<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Every time I try to straighten myself out and my emotions, something or someone else will come along and just throw me so far into a loop that it is going to take me another year to sort through it all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I posted tonight on my Facebook, a status of... My heart is hurting for a very large group of people, and I don't know how to make it stop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">This status was directed toward a very disturbing sermon I clicked on about a preacher teaching his church that there was no Father, Son and Holy Ghost....Only One God.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">This really bothered me and my heart really hurt for these people. When a cousin of mine came back with the reply that if I would just come home things would be fixed. I replied back, even though I couldn't think of why she would respond like that, that I would love to come home, but this status was about something much larger.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Her reply was this and I am quoting, bad typing and all...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">"well i kinda no how it is and maybe one day we can sit down and talk about it. j<u><strong>ust remember we might not like what u do but we still love u</strong></u>. just always live day by day and life on life's terms i know it sound easy but only u know ur hurt and pain just no u dont have to do it alone. no matter what billi im here i no we lost touch for a long time but we are still family and thats all that matters. so head up u have to keep going u have a husband and 2 other kids that needs u to be the best u can. sometimes somethings are just better left alone. and only god is the one to judge. no one eles."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Oh yeah she did. Made all the other nice things she said just invisible to me. We don't like what you may do but... I am sorry, not like what I do...can you please be specific for me?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I am a stay at home mother and pretty much have been my kids whole life. I have not left their sides nor have I ever pawned them off on anyone to watch. They have never even had a babysitter. I am a faithful wife to my husband, never cheated on him and have stood by his side. I have nursed him back to health as he laid on his death bed. I am a God fearing woman that has had her share of demons but have chosen to work through them without bringing everyone around me into them or bringing them down. I don't drink, I don't do drugs, have only had a total of 4 sexual partners my entire life and I was married to two of them. I don't start fights among people, I hurt for people, I try my darnedest not to judge anyone for any mistakes they may have made in their lives...and trust me, my family have made plenty of them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">So I am sorry they don't like the things I may do...should I try to change to fit in with them more? I am far from an angel, but even farther from being made into some sort of evil person. So I am sorry, thanks for the offer dear cousin of mine...but I think I will just stay right where I am and remain who I am. Cause even though you may not like who I am, I love me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-52875327530152803412011-05-08T19:27:00.000-07:002011-05-08T19:27:30.420-07:00Happy Mother's Day<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was a nice Mother's Day. My daughter called me from Ohio, which was a very nice surprise. My children cleaned my house for me and cooked dinner. We are not offically celebrating Mother's Day until Thursday but the best Mother's day gift I got today was....</span><br />
<div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">My own mother wished me</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">a Happy Mother's Day,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">AND, she said she loved me!!!</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span></div>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-4698327760683012942011-05-06T18:37:00.000-07:002011-05-06T18:37:22.615-07:00Brushed by the hand of God<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I went for a walk this evening, up toward the mountain through the forest. Such beauty. Looking all around at all the wonders...the lush grassy floor, the stream, the different plants just starting to bloom. I am blessed to have such art brushed by the hand of God, right outside my back door.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I wanted to just take pictures of everything. Everywhere I turned there was something more beautiful. I feel closer to God begin out there. Looking at all those things, it is my sign from Him that He is indeed there, watching over me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">My husband and I sat down yesterday morning and had a nice long talk. A talk that I needed so very badly. I have lost my way in a large degree. I remember when I was younger, God's light shown through me. I was so close to him. When I got saved, oh that feeling that you can just float, it was the best feeling. Unlike anything I can really explain. I don't feel that feeling anymore. I know I have lost my inner light. So he and I talked about finding our way again. I am going to start looking for a little church. It has to be a little one, with my fear of people, which is a whole nother blog, it has to be as small as possible. I am ready to get back on the right track. I miss it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I was telling my husband that I feel that Satin has just completely taken me over. He asked me why and I was ashamed of my answer. I didn't want to tell him. But I began to explain...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">If you have read any of my earlier posts, you will know I am not an avid sleeper. Sleep for me is far and in between. I lay in bed thinking of everything from my graying hair to the worlds problems. In this time I will stop my thinking and begin to pray sometimes. And in the middle of those prayers, I fall right off to sleep without a moments notice. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, it is the Devil putting me right to sleep, keeping me from speaking with God. The bad part is, that sometimes I am so completely exhausted and not thinking straight, I will begin to pray, just because I KNOW I will fall off to sleep. For this I hate myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I am now back on a prayer routine, and instead of just laying there praying, I will either speak the prayer allowed, or kneel at my bedside to assure myself of not falling asleep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Now I know Satin will be working harder on me now then ever before, because he knows I am getting closer to God. So I still have a major battle ahead of me. But at least now I know I am in the battlefield with my God, instead of in a mine field with Satin.</span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-2431122536270856352011-04-30T12:34:00.000-07:002011-04-30T12:34:23.588-07:00Took Control<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Take I took control of this life of mine that has gotten me tied to a computer. I got up this morning and jumped right onto the computer. I stopped and said to myself..what are you doing. Get up off your ass and do something constructive. You say you want to live..well you aint going to do it on the computer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">So I got up off my ass, cleaned my entire home, made an awesome dinner, Helped my daughter get ready for a party, took care of a sick husband, and settled my son in to watch a movie. And you know what...I felt better about myself. I really did.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I slept good last night, and had energy to do something today. I feel like I took control of what I wanted to do. I like it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-43208367433988902702011-04-29T10:28:00.000-07:002011-04-29T10:28:30.339-07:00The Little Things<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ok I know this is my third post..but it was a long night last night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Even tho I want to start LIVING, I am so very blessed. I complain, yes sometimes too much, but I am so busy complaining about the thorns, I often miss the roses.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">God has blessed me. He has blessed me by many things most people pray for their whole lives.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I was first of all blessed with a mother and father that brought me up in a home that gave me, respect, morals and love. They were together when they had me and still together now...39 years! Even tho things in my home wasn't perfect...it wasn't a broken home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I was blessed to have 5 siblings that were of my flesh and blood. I have 6 siblings, yes, but one of them..they are not of me and I will never again claim her as my own. So I had plenty of kids to play with growing up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I was blessed with 3 beautiful, and I do mean BEAUTIFUL children. God entrusted me to these 3 people. And I feel I must have done something right in my life to be given such a wonderful gift. I know they are not mine..God is only letting me borrow them for a short time, so I need to make the short time I have, count.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I have been blessed with a marraige people only dream of. No I may not have a fancy house, with all the furnishings. I may not have dimond rings on each finger or a wardrobe in every closet...I was blessed with someone that sees who I truely am. I was blessed with someone that loves me for all of my faults and all of my good. He is not in love with my clothes, or my body, or my mind...it is my soul that he has loved. I was blessed with a man that will tell me how beautiful I am even when my hair hasn't been washed. I was blessed with a man that don't need me to wear make up for him to hug me, a man that runs a bath for me with candles, a man that buys me everything I may say I want. It may not be today that he buys it, I may not get it for 3 years, but it is the fact that he remembered I wanted it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I was blessed with waking in the morning and getting to spend another day with my family.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I blessed to have been hurt so very badly, that I believed my world would crash and burn around....Only to have been blessed to be able to see when things are really really good.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I have been blessed to live in some fantastic places and see so many beautiful sites in my life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">And, I was blessed to be one of the very few people that can wake up and see God in everything I see.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">It's the little things people...no matter how small, no matter what trial you go through...it is a blessing...straight from God. Don't get so caught up, in this short life, with all the thorns...make sure you see the roses.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-57033748731053638472011-04-29T10:14:00.000-07:002011-04-29T10:14:27.175-07:00My Mama<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Someone I haven't talked about before on here is my mama.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hKsFxwUPE6Y/TbroF6PiGFI/AAAAAAAAACA/lKFKzzcGi0E/s1600/mom.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hKsFxwUPE6Y/TbroF6PiGFI/AAAAAAAAACA/lKFKzzcGi0E/s320/mom.bmp" width="320" /></a></div>My mama has had a very hard life. She grew up in a divided home. My grand-dad was a wonderful man. He meant the world to both my mother and I. I think I was my grand-dad's favorite because I reminded him so much of my mama when she was younger. He loved her dearly. My grandma, bless her heart, wasn't a very good mother to her, in her younger days. Grandma was, what some would call, a free spirit. She cared more for men in her younger days then her children. But I do have to say, that she tried to make up for it when my mom got older. And even tho they weren't that close when she was growing up, they got really close when she grew up.<br />
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My mama hasn't had the best life a woman could have. My daddy, though you all know how much I adore and love this man, didn't make it easy on mama. We were very poor growing up. There was 8 of us living in a small 2 bedroom trailer for a long time. Daddy loved Mama, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn't give her all the things she wanted or deserved for that matter. <br />
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Daddy was very strict on us kids, some more then others. He believed that you have to raise a kid according to their personalities and not raise them all the same. No that don't sound right, cause we all were raised the same, but he treated each kid to their personalities. Well because he was strict on some and not others, it caused friction between us all. And poor mama would be put in the middle of it all. She would hear all the complaining about daddy and she would try to make up for it. She would try to baby us. Comfort us. And sometimes she would talk to daddy about it, and well that just wouldn't go over too well.<br />
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When I was a kid, lets say around 14 or so, I became very disrespectful to my mama. I would yell at her and talk back. She never scared me. Until the age of around 16, my mama gave me the what for and I tell you..I deserved it. She just couldn't take it anymore and she brought her hand back, and landed it right upside my mouth. From that day on, my mom became one of my best friends. Something changed that day. I seen her through different eyes. <br />
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My mama and I became so close. She and I was always together. She couldn't go someplace without me. When I got married the first time, she was always at my house or I at hers. And if we weren't together we were on the phone. <br />
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When I got pregnant with my oldest daughter it was by my first husband. When he kicked me out, I was 8 months pregnant. My mama was right there for me with arms held out to take me and my baby in. When I went into labor with my daughter my mom stayed up all night long watching me until it was time to take me to the hospital. I sit here and cry thinking about how close we were. I miss my mama.<br />
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She later on lost my granddaddy and something in my mama changed. We were still very close but she just wasn't the same. Understandably so too. Her Father was everything to her. I soon after that got married again, and I left her as well. Not only me this time...but I took my daughter too. Mama didn't handle that too well. She loved my daughter as her own, and she didn't feel she was losing one daughter, it felt like two. To make matters even worse, she didn't like my husband. Mama and my husband has had some of the worst arguements. And this killed me. I was always, ALWAYS, put in the middle of it all. <br />
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Mama decided she needed to go back to work. She went to work for Wal-Mart and she loved it. She, for the first time since I was a small child, finally got to get out of the house and away from it all. She worked there for 3 years I believe, but my father fell very ill and she had to stop working again. Mama took this very badly. Mama changed after working. She no longer was the mama that I knew. Some for the bad and some for the good. She was more independant, more confident, more out spoken...and this is where she and I became not as close as before.<br />
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See mama and I haven't talked now for about 4 years. I mean we have talked, but not REALLY REALLY Talked in about 4 years. See my husband and my mama got into a huge fight. Both of them saying things that shouldn't have been said. I again in the middle try to defend each that I love. This was a losing fight. I tried so very hard. I just couldn't do it anymore...so I let them both go at it. I felt so far away from both of them...they both became people I didn't know. I seen sides to both of them that I didn't like. So I knew that, that would be the last time they saw each other...and I was right. They have not talked or laid eyes on each other since.<br />
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I didn't talk to mama a long time after that. But she doesn't know that I really never talked to my husband much after that either. I was mad at both of them. Because as much as they hated each other..they both still had something in common they loved and meant something to both of them...ME.<br />
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During that same year, a lot of stuff happened. OMG, the mess that was created. My daughter left home, my husband left home, I was alone with two small children and I felt so totally alone. My daughter blamed my husband, my husband blamed my mama and it was a total mess. During this time, some things were said from my mama that, I do forgive now, but I have a hard time forgetting. She said some not so true things, and one of the biggest things I have a hard time forgetting is she wont tell my child she knows she lied. Mama will tell me, but she wont tell her. So my child thinks everyone is backing her up and believes her..which makes me look like the bad guy in my child's eyes. That hurts me. I forgive the lies that were told. Some of the things she don't even remember saying. But thats ok. I remember enough for the both of us. I remember because it was my life that was taken away. That's my problem...I can't forget. <br />
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So I sit here and type all this because I miss her so. My mama. I miss her laugh. I miss her jokes, I even miss that cowardly lion impression..lol. But I know, as long as I love my husband, and as long as I can't forget, things will never be as before. I miss how simple life use to be. I wish that mama and my husband could love me as much as they hate each other. <br />
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Mama if you happen to read this..please know that it isn't my husband keeping me from you. It is I that must keep myself away. I can't be put in the middle any longer. I love you both, and to see the harm you two do to each other, I can't allow it. I know you hate him...but mama you never did know what I know about him. He isn't perfect...God I will be the first to say it...but he isn't the monster you make him out to be. And I say the same to him. He don't know you as I know you. If either of you were monsters, I wouldn't love either of you. I still to this day defend you to him, as I would defend him to you. But I can't keep living to defend you two. He is a good man, or I wouldn't be here. And know that he did at one time love you as a mother. I miss and love you..and you will always be my mommy.<br />
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BEmpty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-27567294353582873552011-04-29T09:24:00.000-07:002011-04-29T09:24:28.118-07:00Have I Lived?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Laying in bed last night while the rest of the free world was watching the Royal Wedding, I was thinking of my life. Thinking of things I have done and haven't, the things I have said and things I should have. It got me wondering...Have I lived my life, or merely survived it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I started to think about the places I have been. I have lived in a lot of different places in the last 15 years of my life. There was Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, back to Ohio, Alabama, Back to Ohio, several Towns in Ohio, Florida, now Georgia. That is a lot of moving around. I have owned a few homes and sold them to move on to the next place. I have rented a fair share as well. In all of my travels I haven't been able to settle down. Why? I have no clue. I love the adventures my life has taken me on. I get bored easily and to be able to just pack up and leave it all behind when I want a fresh start is something of enjoyment to me. I know a lot of people do not understand this type of behavior, but I am not asking anyone to understand it. I met friends, and I have left them, I have had jobs, and left them, I have even had my share of some decent money and left it. So why do I get so bored? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">The picking up and moving to a fresh start is something that thrills me. I mean, it feels as though it is the only thing I have left that will ever have that new feel to it. I am with my spouse of 15 years, a man that I love so dearly, so I will never again feel the newness, that feeling of what it is like to start a new relationship. The feeling of walking around on a cloud. Don't get me wrong, I still feel the weakness in my knees when my husband kisses me...but sometimes...I just wish I could find that look in his eyes..that look he had when we first met. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I will never again feel the newness of a baby in my arms, and looking into it's eyes and making new promises that I will always be there for it. The excitement that comes with being with child. The glow, the amazement, the feelings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">So the newness of moving is something I can control. I have forgotten where I was going with this...lol. I get to thinking and my mind fly's away at a speed of 150mph or more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Life, bored..Ok...back on track now. Part of me feels I am trying to find life. I am looking for that one place that I can actually Live...instead of surviving.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I have only been on one two vacations with my family. Yeah, I know, moving as much as we do that is a vacation in itself..but it's not the same thing. One of those vacations was to Buena Vista, Colorado. Did I enjoy the trip? I did, I enjoyed looking at the huge mountains, that at the time I have never seen before and seeing all the amazing sights...but still...we didn't actually get to live it up there. It was a business trip and not a pleasure trip. I had two babies in the back seat..who were very good, I must say..but we didn't get to go rafting or hiking or eat at fantastic restaurants. No, it was a hotel and senic view.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">The other was to Canada. Now, this was so very much fun for me. My husband and I went for our 7th year anniversary weekend. My husband took me on a huge ship that took us to a little island, we like to call Our Island, called PeLee Island.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TCncOlHP5lo/Tbri65kI3dI/AAAAAAAAAB8/JvfmH2h9TEQ/s1600/aerialpeleeisland.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TCncOlHP5lo/Tbri65kI3dI/AAAAAAAAAB8/JvfmH2h9TEQ/s320/aerialpeleeisland.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>This was a beautiful little place, yes there is a but... But when we went, it was freezing that day. The wind felt like knives cutting threw us. We decided that since it was just a little tourest island, we would not take our car over on the ship. We would rent a bike or something. On the main island it was not freezing, so we took no coats, no gloves, no nothing. So we get there and the bike place was closed because it was so cold. We called for a taxi, but the price was like $18.00 per head, but since it was a bus and not a taxi, the price was going to increase if others didn't want to join us. So, we got to nothing. The vineyard was closed. So we sat inside a little restaurant as long as we could, and then out by the water....4 hours..to wait until the ship came back for us. But, although it was a desaster...I loved spending the time alone in a new place with my husband.<br />
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So that's it. Those are the only two. I also look at living in Florida for a year was sort of like a vacation, but it was still too much surviving to really enjoy all that Flordia had to offer. But, I did get to see the Dolphins that I so dearly love and the ocean for the first time at age 37. <br />
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But I now want to live my life. I want to have beautiful, fun vacations with my children. I want to own a home that my kids and grandkids can come to on Christmas. I want to make traditions. I want nice things. I want to get to know my neighbors and make friends that I have long into my old age. I want to go to a Honky Tonk and let my hair down and dance all night long. I want to be so busy during my day that I collapse from all the fun I have had. I want to go skating! I want to go on a senic drive because I want to..not because it is the only thing we can afford. I want to travel. I wanna go to a weekend concert. I want to take a cooking class. I want to bake huge cakes. I wanna fly in an airplane. I WANT TO LIVE DAMN IT! I don't want to be comfortable anymore. Comfortable is nice, yes, but I want it when I have had just too much of the world!!!!<br />
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Have I lived...no. I have only survived.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"></div>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-57732727688653817172011-04-21T18:47:00.000-07:002011-04-21T18:47:01.148-07:00Hating Country Music<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today's country music SUCKS! They have begun to let anyone in the country music profession and they have ruined it for me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">First let's start with little miss Taylor Swift. Can someone please give me a break with this girl. Little Miss Can't sing live, about kitties and rainbows, hating country music herself. I mean this girl can not sing a lick live. If it wasn't for all the editing done in the studio she would laughed off the shelves. She hates country music and wants to be a pop star. It is a sad sad day when Taylor Swift beats out all the great country music singers like Reba, Martina and others just because kids are running the votes. Sad. And by the way, if that girl don't stop flipping her head around, by the time she hits 25 she is going to whiplash!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Kid Rock...seriously. This is what I mean by letting anyone in. Don't get me wrong, I like Kid. But not as a country music singer. I like his music, Picture, All Summer Long. But I just don't get how they can let him in the country world. Oh yeah, Hank Jr...that's why.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Darius Rucker...ok love love love this man's voice....WHEN HE WAS HOOTIE! Even tho I like to sing along with his songs, "It wont be like this for long" or "Alright" but I just don't buy it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">What happened to the good ole' beer drinking, tear jerking country we older ones have grown up with. What happened to having to pay your dues to be on the Grand Ole' Opry. Look how long it took Elvis to get to play on that stage. I just don't get it. When did country music become more about looks then real singing? How does a girl win a reality show and less then a year later win Entertainer of the Year? Seriously?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I have lost my passion for country music. I am not old, nor am I young one...but I grew up listening to good ole' George Jones, Merle Haggard, Conway Twitty, Don Williams, George Strait and Garth Brooks...which is another thing...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I believe that is where it all started going wrong. When Garth Brooks concerts became more of a carnival then a concert. What is so wrong with just getting on the stage and singing what everyone loves...why you gotta go jumping on ropes and slinging water all over everybody? Just sing....JUST SING! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">And if you are going announce you are going to retire...then retire...Brooks and Dunn, Alabama, Garth Brooks...all retiring. Ok Alabama announced years before they actually retired. Brooks and Dunn announced theirs about 2 or three years before hand...and now Garth Brooks retired...and now coming back. Nah man...just stay gone. Don't bring that crazy stuff back to country...they need real music and singers...not more clowns.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">When Garth started out...oh man could he sing. He was so beautiful to watch, specially when he did "The Dance". I went and seen him in concert when he did tour with The Judds for the Farewell concert. I have to admit...I bawled like a two year old baby when he walked out on stage. I loved him so much. And he just came out and sang his heart out. That's it...just sang, and it was awesome! Then he became this clown, selling tickets to a circus, cheated on his wife with Trisha Yearwood and retired...just stay gone man.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">All I am trying to get at is, bring back the heart felt music. Music today isn't sung from the heart anymore, it is sung and see who can have the best dance, stage display or biggest fan base. That's not what it is about. It is about the music..nothing more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">May I recommend some artist for you to listen to. The ones listed here sing...I mean really sing, from the heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Sugarland</strong>...that girl can sing her little heart out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Reba</strong>...of course..we all know that woman can sing a tune like nobody else.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Martina McBride</strong>...She really has come a long way. She makes me cry sometimes listening to her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Geroge Strait</strong>...that man could make a fart sound good..lol.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Zac Brown Band</strong>...these guys are fairly new to country and they can really sing. They can be silly at times but when he sings...he sings it well! Not to mention...he is from right here in Dahlonega, Ga...yes he is!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Brad Pasley</strong>...ok..he don't do too well live, but he sings from the heart and loves what he does.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Alison Krauss</strong>...beautiful, beautiful voice. Very unique and nobody else has her voice or style.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">And some oldies for ya, Dolly Parton, Loretta Lynn, Tanya Tucker, George Jones, Conway Twitty, just to name very few.</span>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2430435046413996695.post-73810211303495907182011-04-04T12:15:00.000-07:002011-04-04T12:15:47.791-07:00Hurt...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I heard something today from someone. This someone I hold very dear to me. What he said, I will forever hear in my head. He said, I don't lead my children by example. He has hurt me. I am not angry. Simply hurt. How could he say such a thing to me. To me, of all people. I am a woman that has been with her children every second of every day of their life, besides school. I punish them, I hug them, I lecture them, I nurture them. These children that I have gave up my life for, to be at home with them. These children that do have their share of issues, normal issues. These children that are so polite to other people, these children that wear their hearts on their sleeves. They are well mannered, healthy, kind, generous and loving. These are the children that I helped mold. No, mostly molded. How dare he hurt me like this. How dare he put those words in my head. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CugNuxRbaL4/TZoX-RU0dXI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7JaerC_93wQ/s1600/67280_1543895610948_1641720065_1263979_4981567_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" r6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CugNuxRbaL4/TZoX-RU0dXI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7JaerC_93wQ/s320/67280_1543895610948_1641720065_1263979_4981567_n.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(My beautiful daughter Beth..who has issues but all in all is a good girl)</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0NM7T0Kv1T4/TZoW00sraMI/AAAAAAAAABw/jQvqv8Bfc7U/s1600/IMG04502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0NM7T0Kv1T4/TZoW00sraMI/AAAAAAAAABw/jQvqv8Bfc7U/s320/IMG04502.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(My sweet beautiful Madison...who is the closest thing to perfect I know)</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dkdjgFPbk74/TZoXcLSxV0I/AAAAAAAAAB0/RwKrDWa_0o4/s1600/IMG04390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dkdjgFPbk74/TZoXcLSxV0I/AAAAAAAAAB0/RwKrDWa_0o4/s320/IMG04390.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">(My son Mitch..who is so handsome..who has issues but is so very loving and kind)</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I grew up believing that people say things in anger. And even though they are said out of anger, there is always a bit of truth behind them all. I also know that people say things they can never take back. He says he is sorry. In a way I know he is, but he said it. It is out there. And he has planted that seed in my head. I have begun to doubt my every move with my children. Have a failed them in some way? I don't claim to be a perfect parent, and Lord knows I have my faults, but I have only doubted my parenting skills one time in my whole life. And just when I start to get over it, one group of words from someone you love, can make them all come flooding back. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I say to those of you listening, be careful of what you say to loved ones out of anger. Be angry about what it is you became angry for, and never meld into the problem with something that has been on your mind for awhile. Instead if there is something that you feel you must say to someone, something they may not like, don't say it in anger. Sit them down, talk with them about your feelings or concerns, before they come out in words that are hateful. They hurt so badly. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I don't even know if he truly understands what he has done. And I will forgive him, in time. But I will never be able to forget. I have been hurt so much, mentally and physically my entire life. But to be hurt by someone you love so very much, it's different. It is a pain that isn't any different them someone punching you in the heart. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">So...I smoked today. Guess the new ritual wont start for a couple of days. Not until I can go on and pretend like nothing happened....once more.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">B</span></div>Empty Time Bombhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01208762015088382150noreply@blogger.com2