tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-203765952024-03-07T00:13:50.499-05:00Through His Eyes"Behold, I will do something new,
Now it will spring forth;
Will you not be aware of it?
I will even make a roadway in the wilderness,
Rivers in the desert.
The beasts of the field will glorify Me,
The jackals and the ostriches,
Because I have given waters in the wilderness
And rivers in the desert,
To give drink to My chosen people.
The people whom I formed for Myself
Will declare My praise."
Isaiah 43:19-21 NASBMrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.comBlogger288125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-82728110303925860832011-02-19T18:25:00.000-05:002011-02-19T18:25:51.894-05:00Girls and Their ToysOk, I'll admit it... I used to be one of those girls that just didn't understand the appeal of toys.... You know, the "<a href="http://hiseyes.blogspot.com/search/label/toys">boys and their toys</a>" kind of toys. The ones with motors and tires and throttles. THOSE toys. But something has changed.... I own one of those toys. I see the appeal now. The appeal is GREAT. <br />
<br />
The last three days of Spring-like weather threw me headlong into Spring fever, and surprisingly, not just for the warm weather, or <a href="http://hiseyes.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-just-realized.html">the flip flops</a> (shocking, I know), or the ability to wear skirts on a regular basis. I want to smell the exhaust of bikes and four wheelers, I want to hear the roar of the engines, and get on my own little yellow four wheeler and RIDE. Batman spent today changing the oil and the brakes to get it all up and ready. I. CANNOT. WAIT. <br />
<br />
Dear Spring, <br />
<br />
Please stop teasing us and just get here and STAY. I have sun to soak up, and skirts and flip flops to wear, and a four wheeler to drive.<br />
<br />
Love, <br />
me<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="-moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-87358442748325340112011-01-26T12:57:00.000-05:002011-01-26T12:57:39.208-05:00Disappointments and AddictionsYes, I have been absent. For a very long time. I know. I do apologize, but will not start dishing out lame excuses. I just have been absent from this little blogging world. So absent, in fact, that Batman suggested the other day that perhaps I should just shut this page down. Oh no!! He is certain that no one reads this. I pointed out that we do still have seven followers. Whether said followers read, well, I can't attest to that, but, they are followers nonetheless. So, the page will remain. Fear not, you seven!! <br />
<br />
Because of the ridiculously long absence from blog world, I feel like I don't know where to start. Oh, I have had PLENTY that I could have written... Thoughts, lessons, happenings... But I just... haven't. Plus, I'll admit, the world of Facebook makes it SO EASY to pop a quick thought in my status, and then move on. Not much time or thought or effort required. <br />
<br />
Rather than trying to play catch up here, I'd rather just deal with my thoughts for today. Lately I have been dealing/struggling/whatever with my expectations and the many disappointments that we face in life. A person disappointing, or things not turning out the way it was expected, or things not happening fast enough, or at all. I realized, I have allowed disappointment to become an excuse for closing myself off from the things around me. I've allowed disappointment to steal joy. Uh oh. It's not about whether or not I am happy today, or the sun is shining, or things are all falling into place... Because, let's face it, there are days that are NOT happy, are NOT sunny, and things just don't seem to fall into place... according to OUR expectations. (Ok, maybe that should read "MY" instead, but I know there has to be at least one of you that gets that....) So why let it steal my JOY? Hmm... I think my answer is found in this devotional from earlier this month. The moment I read the first sentence, I laughed... and I cried....<br />
<blockquote><b>ADDICTED</b><br />
<br />
My kind relatives gave me a coffee maker for Christmas <i style="color: magenta;">{my mother- and father-in-law REALLY did this year!! The first phrase had my attention!}</i>, which is in one sense like giving a heroin addict a syringe and in another like giving a Christian a devotional book and saying, "Here, I know you're going to need this." (Hold on, cowboys: I don't use metaphors lightly.) <i style="color: magenta;">{Second sentence, equally hooked... I could SO RELATE!!}</i> My family knows I'm addicted to caffeine, which is clear when I go without it it for even one morning. I feel foggy and crabby and get a headache by mid-afternoon. If I'm traveling someplace where coffee isn't on hand for breakfast, it's something of a crisis until I find a drive-through Starbucks or whatever - and then of course there's always a long line of irritated junkies just like me. Sad, really. <i style="color: magenta;">{I read this to Batman, and told him, "Hey, at least I'm not THAT bad!" He just looked at me. Maybe I am.}</i> </blockquote><blockquote> <br />
The funny thing about it is I hated coffee for a long time and couldn't understand why people drank the stuff. <i style="color: magenta;">{Yep, the writer is still referring to <b>ME</b>. I just <b>KNOW</b> it.}</i> It's the kind of thing you have to develop a taste for. It doesn't come naturally, but then when it's finally part of your routine, you'll move mountains to get your hands on it. <i style="color: magenta;">{Yup!!} </i><br />
</blockquote><blockquote>Kind of like spiritual life, when you think about it. We know it's important to spend time every day reading the Bible and praying, but it's not the kind of thing that comes easily to us at first. We have to develop a taste for it. But once we get in the habit of it, life feels out of sorts if we go without it for any length of time. We can't think straight. We feel crabby and start growling at the people we love. Then, when it finally occurs to us what the problem is, we wonder, <i>How could such a tiny ritual be so important?</i> And yet it is. We're not really content again until we've spent some time each day nurturing our spirits with the revitalizing presence of God. <br />
</blockquote><blockquote>What would happen if I got as addicted to God as I am to coffee? How can I move heaven and earth to carve out time for Him every day? <br />
</blockquote><blockquote> Psalm 63:1-5 </blockquote><blockquote>~ The One Year Daily Grind by Sarah Arthur</blockquote><br />
Um, OUCH? Wonder if that might have something to do with that joy problem. Maybe if I was so addicted to God, disappointment of any sort wouldn't really matter. Because, disappointment IS a guarantee. People WILL let you down. Things will not always work out as planned. But God will never ever ever disappoint. No matter what. I think that is something I need to seal in my heart again.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-16635299747955434262010-11-09T11:39:00.001-05:002010-11-09T12:34:30.811-05:00November 9, 1996For most, it is just another normal day. For others, it is a day to rejoice in the birth of a new little one. Others yet may remember this day with sadness... perhaps someone was lost. For this girl, however, November 9, 1996 is a day of wonder and surprise and love. <br />
<br />
*** CAUTION: Mush ahead. Proceed at your own risk. ***<br />
<br />
You see, nine months earlier, I realized something... I was in love with my best friend. Trust me, I tried talking myself out of it... Problem number one, I had decided that I was done with guys... they were all jerks, they would only hurt you... Problem number two, he was five years older than me, and at a couple weeks shy of 17, that is a pretty big age gap. However, there was no talking myself out of it... I KNEW that someday, I would marry him. <br />
<br />
On Saturday morning, Batman came to pick me up... We had plans to go hiking. After saying goodbye to my parents, we drove to G------ and parked at the trailhead. We walked down the trail into the gorge to the foot of a beautiful waterfall. There, he sat me down and proceeded to hike BACK up to the car. Someone "forgot the camera." Whether he ever actually brought down the camera, I don't know... I absolutely cannot remember. When he did return, he knelt in front of me, and held out a little black box. I remember thinking, "what on earth is he DOING?!?!" He opened the box, looked me in the eye, and asked, "E, will you be my princess forever?"<br />
<br />
* Quick side note for anyone wondering why on earth I would think I am a princess... Read that question again. I'll wait. Ready? Good. Moving on.*<br />
<br />
It took a moment for all of it to sink in. My initial split second thought was, "this must be fake, he's teasing me, this is just practice.....," but then reality set in... As much as reality can set in at that moment, anyhow. With tear filled eyes, I told him yes, with all my heart, I'd marry him. <br />
<br />
That was fourteen years ago today. We've had our good times and our struggles, our sunny days and our dark nights. One thing that is certain: Batman, I love you with all my heart and I'd marry you all over again. Thanks for being a good man, a good husband and my best friend.<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-53117482652680413702010-09-13T11:40:00.000-04:002010-09-13T11:40:14.799-04:00Train up a child....The Girl's Language work today had the following directions:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>On a separate sheet of paper, use each of the following words in a declarative sentence: <br />
<br />
<i>princess<br />
rose<br />
wish<br />
castle</i></blockquote><br />
For "princess"... (wait, I need a moment to compose myself and wipe the tear from my eye. I am SO PROUD......) <br />
<br />
Ok... The Girl wrote: <br />
<br />
<blockquote><b>"I am a princess."</b></blockquote><br />
Yes, my love, you are. I am so glad that all the girlie training is paying off. You are a girl after your momma's own heart. Would you like to go to the salon later? We could paint our nails this afternoon with matching colors if you'd like..... <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-37645910174496357332010-09-09T15:05:00.001-04:002010-09-10T06:04:00.500-04:00Changing SeasonsMy house smells like cinnamon.<br />
<br />
I know, that is a strange introduction after an absence nearly three months long. What can I say? I've been wrapped up in my love affair with summer - with the sun and the warmth, with flip flops and polka dots, with garden fresh veggies and all things grilled. Despite the love and enjoyment of this summer, I have to admit, every time I've looked at this page, I have had ZERO inspiration. Don't fret, I still have been stopping at your pages. I haven't been ignoring everything. :)<br />
<br />
Now I am ready to settle back in, bake, soak in the heat from the wood stove, and find some inspiration to blog. Bean-bag school is in session and routine is back. All of us at the "Guthrie homestead" are looking forward to what is in store for us this season. What I heard from the littles today while they did school is perfect: <blockquote>"But God's plans are not always the same as man's plans."</blockquote><br />
I'm glad His plans are not mine. He is far more creative and caring (and all knowing!!) than I am. Here's to new seasons, God's bigger plans, and the beauty of autumn.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-27858326068690480722010-06-16T09:30:00.000-04:002010-06-16T09:30:30.692-04:00I am...I am Batman's wife.<br />
I am The Boy's and The Girl's mom.<br />
I am an EMT.<br />
I am F-town's ambulance captain.<br />
I am a daughter.<br />
I am a sister.<br />
I am a best friend.<br />
I am an aunt.<br />
I am a girlie-girl.<br />
I am my Daddy's child - the Father's little girl, <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%2017:7-8&version=NIV">apple of His eye</a>.<br />
<br />
Why isn't that last one first? Of the myriad of things that I identify myself as, why isn't the most important first on the list? Here's a story I can relate to, and maybe you can as well....<br />
<br />
<blockquote>As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"<br />
<br />
"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." - Luke 10:38-42.</blockquote><br />
Martha spend so much time being a good hostess (another identifier I strive for) that she misses it, yet Mary sits at His feet. She laid everything else aside. God said that her time at His feet was <b>NEEDED</b>. It's not just something nice to do, it is a necessity. Priorities.<br />
<br />
My heart wants to get it all lined up the right way, but my persistance to get it done? Well, that's not really my strong suit. I read <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%2011:9-13&version=NIV">Luke 11:9-13</a> - ask, SEEK, knock - then jumped up a couple verses and read. This is when I seemed to "get it" a little more. This clicked for some reason.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Then he said to them, "Suppose one of you has a friend, and he goes to him at midnight and says, 'Friend, lend me three loaves of bread, because a friend of mine on a journey has come to me, and I have nothing to set before him.'<br />
<br />
"Then the one inside answers, 'Don't bother me. The door is already locked, and my children are with me in bed. I can't get up and give you anything.' I tell you, though he will not get up and give him the bread because he is his friend, yet because of the man's boldness he will get up and give him as much as he needs.<br />
<br />
"So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened." - Luke 11:5-10</blockquote><br />
I say to my friends, "call me <i>anytime</i> you need me - even if it's the middle of the night!!" And I do mean it. Really. But, in all reality, they will probably have to be pretty persistent about it. They'll have to call at least twice. My phone is in the living room - far far away from my sleeping head so my brain cells don't fry, but close enough to hear through a sleep induced fog. Probably. So, this little excerpt in Luke about Friend A going to Friend B's house at midnight grabbed me. That act in itself is pretty persistent. I can't picture myself showing up on <a href="http://www.waasup.blogspot.com/">your</a> doorstep at midnight needing something. Eight or nine o'clock and needing a place to crash, you bet! Midnight, not so much. BUT, if I did get that far, I imagine that I'd keep banging on the door til I got my answer, just like Friend A did on Friend B's door. And, "I tell you, though he will not get up and give him the bread because he is his friend, yet because of the man's boldness he will get up and give him as much as he needs." ... Immdediately following that verse is God's instruction to ask - keep asking, <b>SEEK</b>, by all means, keep seeking! Keep knocking. Persistence may not be everything, but it sure is a lot. <br />
<br />
Did you screw up or falter today? Pick yourself back up, dust yourself off and keep seeking. He <b>WILL</b> be found. That much I do know. I am The Father's daughter, and I will seek Him.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-51305906191320520122010-06-08T09:39:00.000-04:002010-06-08T09:39:31.447-04:00Lesser LoversRecently, God has been speaking to us about our time, our hearts, and our affections. A dear friend was in town and cautioned us about having "lesser lovers." Lesser lovers?!?! What?!<br />
<br />
Reading, surfing the net (Facebooking!) racing, keeping "house", etc. - there is nothing wrong with any of these activities, but when they become more important than my time and relationship with God, they are out of order - they are lesser loves. Not one of them is even remotely as worthy as God, but taking my time and attention and affection nonetheless. This morning I picked up <a href="http://hiseyes.blogspot.com/2010/01/ive-been-slapped.html">my devotions</a> and read this:<br />
<br />
<blockquote><b>Again</b><br />
<br />
I've been reading through the book of judges - or rather, reading a chapter now and then as time and memory allow (you know how it goes) - and recently the opening line of chapter 13 got my attention: "Again the Israelites did evil in the Lord's sight..." It was the <i>again</i> that jumped out at me. Obviously there was a pattern developing there, but I'd been reading the book so slowly that I'd lost track of the thematic thread.<br />
<br />
So, I skimmed back through Judges from the beginning and realized what I'd been missing was a phrase that's used over and over to introduce each new episode - "Again the Israelites did evil" (see Judges 3:7, 12; 4:1-2; 6:1; 10:6-8; etc.) - always paired with this curios little phrase: "So the Lord handed them over to [insert enemy here]." This is significant. The point isn't just that the Israelites kept messing up. The point is that every time they did, they lost their freedom.<br />
<br />
How many <i>agains</i> are to be encountered in our lives? We turn away, and God steps in and helps us - He brings people into our lives who tell us the truth, for example - and for awhile we repent and attempt to get ourselves on track. But then the material attractions of the world glitter before our eyes, or we receive the attentions of popular people, and before long we are no long interested in spiritual things but start chasing after the things of this world. <i>Again</i> is a lifestyle, an ongoing pattern of resistance to the living God. And it's not without consequences: Sooner or later He turns us over to the things we crave. He hands us over to other masters who do not love us - to what we thought we wanted.<br />
<br />
Are material possessions what you're chasing after? Fine, God says - I'll hand you over to those things until you're a modern-day slave trapped in bondage to credit card debt. Is it sexual pleasure that you crave? Okay, God says - I'll hand you over to every indulgence until you can no longer feel anything at all. Or what about romance? Sure, God says - I'll hand you over to another human being until you experience how similar love can be to hatred in the end. Is it popularity you want? Go for it, God says. I'll hand you over to your heroes until you can no longer speak or breath without needing their permission. <br />
<br />
And so on and so forth. How many <i>agains</i> are they re to be in my life before I recognize my worthless idols for what they are? <br />
<br />
Judges 13:1<br />
</blockquote>Hmm... What in my life is a lesser lover? What is keeping me from taking that time with my King? What is my "again"? Am I so consumed throughout the week with making my house what I feel it should be? Cleaning, or laundry, or dishes, or school work? Other peoples children? Recouping from the weekend for the first half of the week and preparing for the weekend for the second half? What am I allowing to take precedence over that quiet time with the Father? My time to worship, to listen, to feed, to pray, to draw near to His heart?<br />
<br />
I don't want any lesser loves in my life. I want "again" to cease being a lifestyle. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-71372661468767014452010-05-21T11:06:00.000-04:002010-05-21T11:06:06.095-04:00Breaking the SilenceYou might be wondering where on earth we have been, and even perhaps if we fell off completely. Fear not, we didn't. I've been right here all along, just feeling rather busy. I definitely have the post on what God has been teaching us all ready and written, but Batman said that it really would be better if our "story" was posted first... Then what God has been speaking would be more pertinent... Since this post hasn't been written and ready, I have to admit, I've been avoiding it. Well, no longer! Here I sit, in the quiet, worship music in the background, gathering my thoughts so you can be brought up to date. <br />
<br />
It all started on a Friday evening... Friday, April 9, to be exact.... It went something like this:<br />
<br />
Bruce - "Hey, there is a racetrack about an hour away from here. They have practice runs all day tomorrow. We should take the boys and see how they do."<br />
<br />
Batman - "Yeah, why not? I'll go home and let the wife know and meet up with you in the morning to head up there."<br />
<br />
Bruce - "Sweet. See you latta."<br />
<br />
Batman (upon returning home, to me) - "Hey, Chub and I are going to take the Boy and the BFF racing tomorrow."<br />
<br />
Me - "Oh, ok. How long will you be gone?"<br />
<br />
Batman - "I dunno, probably all day."<br />
<br />
Me - "That's fine. The Girl and I will be going with you. I refuse to sit home alone every weekend. I know this is just to check it out, but I know where it's going, and we are a family, so we go as a family."<br />
<br />
Batman - "Ok, you can go. I'd rather have you with me anyway."<br />
<br />
The next morning, we got up and while I gathered everything together at home, Batman ran downtown to do some errands. When he came home, he informed me that the Boy and the BFF had a sponsor. Wait, what?? They haven't even started yet! Cool, God!!! :D We finished packing up and away we went. The boys had a blast and decided that, yes, they did in fact want to start racing officially. We left Silver Springs and returned home, fell into bed, and awoke V.E.R.Y. E.A.R.L.Y. the next morning to return to Silver Springs by 7:00... AM... Ack!! We looked around at all the campers and decided that staying overnight in a camper really was the way to go... But we didn't have a camper. <br />
<br />
That afternoon <a href="http://waasup.blogspot.com">the brother</a> was at the track watching the Boy race, and commented that we should get a camper. My response was along the lines of not being able to buy one, someone would have to have to give me one. Hear that, God? The next evening, I called him to tell him that in the morning I would be picking up my camper... that had been given to us. Hmmm.... Reason number 7,098,234,987,987,001 why I know God hears my every thought and word.<br />
<br />
Batman has wanted to race all of his life, but his parents didn't have the money to put him in it. Since the Boy was an official racer, Batman was REALLY feeling the itch. He hopped on <a href="http://www.craigslist.org/about/sites">craigslist</a> and found a motorcycle to race... The kid selling it was willing to trade it for a car. Batman had a car that he didn't need or use anymore... Hmmm..... They were in contact with each other and set up a time to meet. He loved the bike and the kid loved the car. Away we went with the bike in the back and we signed Batman up the following weekend. <br />
<br />
In order to race, you need riding boots and jersey and pants and chest protector. A friend of ours handed Batman a jersey and pant set. (WHAT?!?!) We found boots and a chest protector for great prices (at first he was borrowing his cousin's). Our whole racing adventure has been a series of things just like that... Sometimes a very big deal to us, and other times something small yet still very tangible. Throughout this journey, we have prayed for God's guidance, direction, and protection, for Him to continue to open the doors if this was the right direction, and to shut it right down if it wasn't. It's good to know when you are on the right track. :) <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-44207751206261402762010-04-13T12:04:00.000-04:002010-04-13T12:04:44.310-04:00Taking the ShotHere's a taste of our new life. The story will follow... Shortly. I promise. :)<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-15127767524199533692010-04-07T17:18:00.000-04:002010-04-07T17:18:13.744-04:00The Girl's Observation of the DayWhile watching the new baby bunnies out the window with mommy, colors, sizes, and fuzziness levels were all noted. As the babies played and grazed next to their mommy, The Girl made this observation:<br />
<br />
"That mommy bunny must have married a Wild One (bunny)."<br />
<br />
Yes, dear girl, there are girls in the world that are inexplicably drawn to the Wild Ones. Bunnies included. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-53263434931739354672010-03-31T23:46:00.002-04:002010-03-31T23:50:24.076-04:00Climbing on top of the pile of strawWhen one straw falls on you, it is no big deal, but what about when the next one falls, and the next, and the next? Eventually, you can find yourself buried under a pile of straw. One piece is lightweight and small - no big deal, but if you don't brush off and essentially conquer that one piece as it falls, you have the possibility of being buried under it all. Once your are under the pile rather than on top of it, getting back on top can feel like such an insurmountable task. I know. I feel it all too often.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, in this great big blog world, encouragement and helpful tools can be found. One <a href="http://trintje.blogspot.com/">blog-buddy</a> has encouraged me and given me helpful tips and ideas, and kept me entertained as well with her own stories of <a href="http://trintje.blogspot.com/2010/01/kcf.html">KCF</a> - otherwise known as <a href="http://trintje.blogspot.com/2010/03/more-relief-for-kitchen-combat-fatigue.html">Kitchen Combat Fatigue</a>. Problem number one - I D.E.F.I.N.I.T.E.L.Y. had KCF. No doubt about it. I firmly believe that you don't have to be an expecting mom to get it. Not even a homeschooling mom. Hey, you probably don't even need to be a mom, or even a homemaker, or married to get Kitchen Combat Fatigue. I imagine that ANYONE that actually COOKS in their kitchen can easily get it. But enough about the requirements. I was worn out, frustrated and downright discouraged in my kitchen. I am not naive enough to think that as soon as our kitchen remodel project is finished, those frustrating feelings will magically disappear. I needed to reevaluate and reassess the goings-on in my kitchen. <br />
<br />
Problem number two: I have such a hard time with jobs that you do once (yes, this is an issue in the kitchen as well, but for this part, we are covering the rest of the house), and then no later than the end of the day, you have to do the same job over! Solution one? Buy disposable clothes, and locate a self cleaning bathroom and a robot vacuum cleaner. Back to the real world, though. I am a person of FANTASTIC intentions and plans. Oh yes. I can make a list for anything, make a schedule and hang up a chart for anything, but if I am not remaining on TOP of the little pieces of straw, those lists, schedules and charts do me no good at all. I also have a very difficult time thinking OUTSIDE the box. I think that is why my schedules and plans and charts ALWAYS look the same and ALWAYS end up failing me. Or maybe I am failing them. I am great at the start, but then I falter. Hmm... What is that verse about running the race with perseverance? Yeah... <br />
<br />
Spring cleaning "season" has helped me dig out from under the pile, but the last thing I want is Fall to roll around (or worse yet, next Spring) and some of those jobs that are done rarely are back on the list of things that REALLY need to get done, but I am frustrated because they R.E.A.L.L.Y. needed to get done a long time ago. I'd rather just stay consistent with all of it, but is cleaning my ENTIRE living room from the ceiling to the floor and EVERYTHING in-between every Monday really feasible? Not if I intend to cook, do dishes and laundry, and attend to school needs that day as well, it isn't. And I KNOW this, but really, I would LOVE to have my living room - and the dining room - be cleaned that way every single Monday. Then the bathroom on Tuesday, the kitchen on Wednesdays, bedrooms on Thursdays and the bathroom again on Friday. That isn't too much to require of myself, is it? Maybe not if it was a quick dust job, run the vacuum, and make sure everything is straightened, but, I tend to be an all or nothing person. We are either going 100mph or standing still - which is also something I need to work on - slow and steady wins that race. Because I can't keep up that schedule on my terms, I started looking around for not only encouragement because I was honestly feeling like such a failure as a wife and mom, but I needed ideas on how to fix it as well. One day I was visiting <a href="http://quesarah-sarah.blogspot.com/">Sarah</a>'s page and came across her post on <a href="http://quesarah-sarah.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-secret-to-clean-house.html">how she keeps a clean house</a>. I followed the link she provided and went ahead and grabbed my very own <a href="http://www.motivatedmoms.com/products.html">Motivated Moms schedule</a>. (See, I told you I'm a sucker for schedules.) Why did I grab yet ANOTHER schedule? Thinking Outside The Box, people out of the box. See, I can Spring Clean and organize and perfect like nobody's business, but keeping it all together and not getting discouraged or worn out with the day to day maintaining is where I lose it. This new perspective was part of what I needed. (You mean to tell me I don't have to clean the entire room that day? Really??)<br />
<br />
The last problem? I'll admit it. Lack of sunshine. This girl desperately needs the sun, and by the time winter is winding down, a few good days of sunny, warm brightness do wonders for my winter blues funk. <br />
<br />
So, here I am, on top of my pile of straw. I will continue to put one foot in front of the other, and with the help of The Son, I will<i> "throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let (me) run with perseverance the race marked out for (me)." ~ Hebrews 12:1</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-9417300038022158762010-03-22T11:32:00.000-04:002010-03-22T11:32:12.199-04:00Adventures with The BoyHave I ever said life was dull? No? Didn't think so. Over the last week, the weather has been so accommodating, so The Boy has been able to take his motorcycle out and about. After returning home from a very nice afternoon spent with Grandma and Grandpa, <a href="http://waasup.blogspot.com/">the Aunt, Uncle and cousins</a> and the other Uncles, The Boy got together with his counterpart to go riding. After all, racing season will be upon us soon (next month?!?) and the boys need to practice up. <br />
<br />
Around and around they went, engines roaring. First one boy was in front, then the other, then back again. The Boy's best bud went through, then the best bud's cousin. We all looked back up the hill and waited. No Boy. I glanced toward the back of the hill where The Boy should have come down and then around and saw a red clad arm pop up. "He's down!" I cried to Batman. Immediately all the momma-bear instinct in me rose up, while the level head in Daddy instructed me to stay put. He was going for him. See, Daddy knows me all too well. He is completely aware of the fact that I am a competent EMT, but he also knows full well that when it comes to the littles, "Mommy" comes first, and there would be no such thing as a level head. I remained down at the house with our friend, staring up at the hill. M smiled and told me it was ok, Daddy and the Best Bud's daddy were up there. I quickly responded that was great, but it was completely against my nature to stay away. That's my baby up there! The Girl then piped up and informed me that The Boy isn't exactly a baby. Ah, to explain again that no matter how old they are, they will always be my babies and I will always love them and want to protect and shield them and make everything all right. She'll get it someday. :)<br />
<br />
When the entourage made it's way down to the house, I pounced. I knew that Daddy had undoubtedly checked every single finger and toe and everything in between, but now it was my turn. After ensuring that nothing was broken, I pulled out the light and checked his eyes. Two beautiful brown eyes. Check. Pupils reacting and equal. Check. We said goodbye to the guys and took The Boy inside and deposited him on the couch. <br />
<br />
Suddenly, he began repeating the same phrase OVER and OVER and OVER. We would tell him that he just told us that - ten times - and his response was, "oh, that is probably a problem." Pause. "I had a dream. It was all a dream." *deep breath in. and out.* Boy, you told us that. Ten seconds ago. "I did? I don't remember." Pause. "I had a dream..." Ack! To the car. We knew he had a concussion, but with the repetition, we weren't going to play around. Down to the ER we went. Again. <br />
<br />
By the time we got down there, The Boy's head seemed to be on straight again, but getting checked out was still a good idea. Dr. R was on - the same one The Boy saw for his lip, so of course, he was immediately harassed. We promised that this time his helmet had been On. His. Head. The Boy was handed one of those very attractive <strike>dresses</strike> hospital gowns to wear for the duration. He was checked head to toe again and thumbs up were given. He looked fantastic and was sounding like himself again, but it was one of those "better safe than sorry deals." Afterbreaking his helmet, not remembering a good half-an-hour to forty-five minutes long chunk of time and repeating himself, a scan was definitely in order, so, we sat back to wait for the CAT scan tech.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdCUU5QiNE2-XTutfnceD2Z_hyPPqfrSLx5M7WDLjh_4wi226ZFPpqBTB6e3uyql1UUSopZxrN3LMtAuon3_lYi_UytX4JTIx-Ebr_sYcNjktqYBwLtGJiB9LCZfARpZXe82WGQ/s1600-h/March-Boyandhelmet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdCUU5QiNE2-XTutfnceD2Z_hyPPqfrSLx5M7WDLjh_4wi226ZFPpqBTB6e3uyql1UUSopZxrN3LMtAuon3_lYi_UytX4JTIx-Ebr_sYcNjktqYBwLtGJiB9LCZfARpZXe82WGQ/s400/March-Boyandhelmet.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
While we waited, we finally got to the bottom of "the dream." It seems that a month ago or so, The Boy dreamt that he and the Best Bud were out riding and he wrecked and hurt his head. He said that right before he went up the hill, he remembered the dream, but thought that was a funny thing to remember - everything was fine. Hmm... Didn't we JUST talk about this in church that very day? Why, yes, we did! It's all about learning to listen (and follow) that still small voice. We told him that if something like that ever happened again, by all means, LISTEN! That was God speaking into his ear and warning him. <br />
<br />
The tech came in and took The Boy away, and we waited. He was brought back <strike>after what felt like hours</strike> in short order. We were given two thumbs up once again, signed the release papers, and made our way home. <br />
<br />
The results of the CAT scan?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-AiH2esy77lwvb_nxIQHUKSzfLyE8KUytFHXLcSB80t0FiuUkB0Va8s-Ca5iwO6-kXuGi8KCX5zbL6s67233jfEcuQY0nldRHoN5kT9EuphyA8YDt5ZLPiu_D4lCHKD91sdw5Q/s1600-h/March+049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-AiH2esy77lwvb_nxIQHUKSzfLyE8KUytFHXLcSB80t0FiuUkB0Va8s-Ca5iwO6-kXuGi8KCX5zbL6s67233jfEcuQY0nldRHoN5kT9EuphyA8YDt5ZLPiu_D4lCHKD91sdw5Q/s400/March+049.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Kitty says he's just fine. Incidentally, so do the doctors.<br />
<br />
We kept him up until after two in the morning (not supposed to let them sleep for a few/several hours with a concussion), so this morning he is understandably tired.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8h8VeZPhHs9R3KUrQTvdf31XmUdWXC8tvPoyOPhD79fOnM-i-ltqXvmcqPV04Fl6oMM6WEvOblm3C2TO61HItCI02SKjWdIvxFf8VuBz17mtuRxzZJQCV6fL0a6A-rvnQ90Txkw/s1600-h/March+052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8h8VeZPhHs9R3KUrQTvdf31XmUdWXC8tvPoyOPhD79fOnM-i-ltqXvmcqPV04Fl6oMM6WEvOblm3C2TO61HItCI02SKjWdIvxFf8VuBz17mtuRxzZJQCV6fL0a6A-rvnQ90Txkw/s400/March+052.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Other than that, he is no worse for the wear and is ready to jump back on the bike. 'Atta boy. I guess. Helmet? Check. Riding boots? Check. Every.Single.Other. piece of riding equipment? Check. I know one mommy that is quite grateful for the hand of God and for helmets, chest protectors, neck braces, riding gloves, pants and boots. And for a level headed and caring daddy. And for the protecting hand of God. I mentioned that one already? Sorry, I figured it was worth mentioning again. :)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-87697761424622595852010-03-21T08:57:00.000-04:002010-03-21T08:57:07.955-04:00Thought for the day..."There is no one so good that he can save himself;<br />
Neither is there any so bad that God cannot save him."<br />
<br />
~ Unknown<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-42137048402898384672010-03-04T12:19:00.002-05:002010-03-05T10:30:54.457-05:00I just realized...It's almost flip flop season!! :D (Yes, <a href="http://bugandeye.blogspot.com/">Eye</a>, there IS a chick flail involved here.) Let me just say: <br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="color: magenta;">I ♥ FLIP FLOPS</span></b></i>. Of every kind. Fancy flip flops, plain flip flops, flat flip flops, heeled flip flops (although, then I think they are technically called "thongs" but it's the same concept, so I love them.) Yes, I even have a <a href="http://www.liasophia.com/sites/corporate/productcatalog?page=productdetail&sku=105C51301&showCrumbs=true">flip flop charm necklace from Lia Sophia</a>. I'll admit, Batman thought I'd lost it when I actually bought a flip flop charm, and lots of people see me wearing it, stop, stare, then ask, "um, are you REALLY wearing a single flip flop on a necklace?!" Yes, thankyouverymuch, I am. Other flip flop lovers see my flip flop necklace and appreciate it just as much as I do. Flip flops - my warm weather weakness. One of them, anyway. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8TDQvvLTuH7zYdgR3fGthUi1ny4YqYrFpQl0gPT5smswgMAbTCcjn7t9G7_ri1BhwVgybQP36HKvxrJEJCZVezMR9kkW29FTLx8LPUuZXSXr0cKS22XlX9ulG86ZWtGyoI_C5Q/s1600-h/mosaicflipflop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8TDQvvLTuH7zYdgR3fGthUi1ny4YqYrFpQl0gPT5smswgMAbTCcjn7t9G7_ri1BhwVgybQP36HKvxrJEJCZVezMR9kkW29FTLx8LPUuZXSXr0cKS22XlX9ulG86ZWtGyoI_C5Q/s400/mosaicflipflop.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I love flip flops. And Spring. And Summer. Very very very very much. Just in case you couldn't tell. I know, it is really cold out today, BUT the sun is shining so brightly and the sky is so blue and the clouds are so white and fluffy. The forecast for the weekend? Forty degrees (peeps from the South, don't say a word. This is the beginning of Spring. Forty is SIGNIFICANTLY nicer than ten. Just sayin'.) and SUNNY! It's officially Spring Cleaning season and I L.O.V.E. it! For now I'll only wear my flip flops inside, but it won't be long and they'll be on my feet every. single. day. Amen.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-22977952574152926552010-03-02T11:52:00.000-05:002010-03-02T11:52:50.407-05:00More Winter FunSince we are surrounded by beautiful and enormous mounds of snow, I thought today would be the perfect day to post about Batman's ice races. Yes, I said ice races - for the three wheeler (or four wheeler or motorcycle, but since his baby is the three wheeler, that's what he races). Now, since I do my best to never even STEP on ice unless ice skates are on my feet (even then it isn't a pretty picture), the idea of RACING on the ice is a very foreign one to me. To Batman, though, it was something he looked forward to ALL. YEAR. LONG. Literally. As soon as we found out that they were being held on Superbowl Sunday this year (*ahem*, yes, I am playing catch-up, here), we called our friends and rearranged our Superbowl party schedule just a tad so he could still go. The littles and I packed up in the truck with him <strike>at some ungodly hour</strike> bright and early and away we went!<br />
<br />
When we arrived, I was surprised at the number of people there and at the condition and quality of the place that we were at. We were in Podunk Wh---ville! Needless to say, for insurance purposes, we are now members of the Wh---ville Rod and Gun club. Huh. Batman says it would be a perfect place for a summer picnic with friends out by the pond/lake/marsh thing. I hold out that it is a little far from H--- and that we don't have any friends that live there, anyway. As far as using it for the gun club, um.... well.... it isn't like we can't just go out in our own back yard for some target practice. But whatever, I digress. Back to the ice races.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIMdXWyNllXCKshsPmlT1tzMqCs6S6jqiBSpikL9n86mgox_d168wLMwwISTBk4fuhsbSPcbQqwP7tSbvRyfQHwsUkcHm2HQClbv-bO9hgW1zPG5-l4u7nl9WAbgvzzAFXfUbSg/s1600-h/January+ice+races.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIMdXWyNllXCKshsPmlT1tzMqCs6S6jqiBSpikL9n86mgox_d168wLMwwISTBk4fuhsbSPcbQqwP7tSbvRyfQHwsUkcHm2HQClbv-bO9hgW1zPG5-l4u7nl9WAbgvzzAFXfUbSg/s400/January+ice+races.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Batman had A BLAST, the kids thought it was terrific, and one of their favorite parts was watching the remote control cars race around the pond. Not kidding. They also loved watching all the vehicles with actual drivers, and the boys made plans to practice up on their motorcycles and enter the races with daddy next year. The Girl, however, held firm. She plans on standing at the edge and watching with mommy. Driving and slipping around in circles on the ice? No, thank you. Watch other <strike>idiots</strike> adventuresome people do so? Sounds like fun.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-77016517306063407702010-02-22T16:40:00.000-05:002010-02-22T16:40:04.039-05:00The Boy's bike comes homeThe Boy L.O.V.E.S. riding. Really, really loves it. He even dreams of racing someday. Mommy will be <strike>hiding her eyes</strike> supporting him the entire way. Both the Boy and the Girl very gratefully received new dirt bikes two years ago. The Girl is happily keeping hers for one more summer, but the time had come for the Boy to get an upgrade. <br />
<br />
So, Mommy and Daddy packed up in the truck and made the trek to PA. Not, mind you, right over the border, PA, but deep into the underbelly of the backwoods, PA. Like, backwoods of Tennessee, underbelly of the backwoods. All of the houses that we saw were either in gated "communities" or had bleached out skulls over the doors. Literally. Upon seeing these... houses.... I realized that we had no cell phone coverage. At. All. It was a tiny bit nerve racking. <br />
<br />
We finally made it to the house where we would be purchasing the Boy's new motorcycle, and I was pleasantly surprised and relieved! The owner was not at all like Michael Meyers after all!! *whew* He was, in fact, very kind and refined and definitely knew his motorcycle stuff. As an added bonus, there was not a single skull hanging anywhere on his house. Batman and the homeowner talked motorcycles and racing and motorcycles and racing and more motorcycles for a long time, then we loaded up the Boy's new ride in the back of the truck and headed out. On the way home, I realized we were in the Poconos. <br />
<blockquote>*Note to self: DO. NOT, I repeat DO. NOT! EVER, under any circumstance, hop online and find a "nice cozy get-a-way" with one of those champagne glass hot tubs and heart shaped bed and tell yourself that it would be nice to rent it and go hide away with the hubby. DON'T DO IT.*</blockquote>Hey, maybe those places really are a nice, romantic get-a-way, but my first impression of the Poconos wasn't fabulous, so I'd really rather just not go back. I'm just sayin'....<br />
<br />
Back on the road, we started looking for gas stations with good prices and a snack. Spotting decent prices, we pulled in, filled up, and grabbed a picture or two of the bike so the Boy could enjoy it's journey home. Then, gas in the tank and snacks and coffee in hand, we were underway, headed home!<br />
<br />
It was dark when we pulled in, but it didn't stop the Boy from flying out the door, up into the truck bed, and onto his motorcycle. Could you hear his delighted squeals at your house?? In the morning, the bike was brought in to warm up next to the wood stove (no, I am not kidding), where Crumb-Crumb checked it out, ensured that it was a Suzuki, and gave his approval. It was then taken back out, started up, and the boys gave it a spin. Approval ratings? Quite high. Mommy went out in the cold to watch him climb on, but <strike>quickly retreated to the house so I didn't have to watch</strike> remembered a few very important things that I had to do to get ready for our guests that would be arriving later that evening. <br />
<br />
The bike is now home, the Boy has new boots and a chest protector to keep him safe (just so you know, that was Daddy's idea) and the special oil to mix with his gas has been ordered. All we need now is a warm day.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfnlEU1EX2bAhP3Y6aJAq9CsVG9gJoLvAWlmiDKGBuY63-QArmUIJpAYPsqwPNDDg2BoyMq2PK2TvH8BKuadFcY8dZyCIYQlOXj7W3IMylpUcbPnazIJnTVo7vJ1rKZ2CsX3qwIA/s1600-h/mosaic2abd02505b6fdb285a0e9dc578852f1605c0c81f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfnlEU1EX2bAhP3Y6aJAq9CsVG9gJoLvAWlmiDKGBuY63-QArmUIJpAYPsqwPNDDg2BoyMq2PK2TvH8BKuadFcY8dZyCIYQlOXj7W3IMylpUcbPnazIJnTVo7vJ1rKZ2CsX3qwIA/s400/mosaic2abd02505b6fdb285a0e9dc578852f1605c0c81f.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-76689637047201906652010-02-18T18:21:00.001-05:002010-02-18T18:24:01.139-05:00How does he love me? Let me count the ways....Batman is a great man. He is faithful, he is honest, he is trustworthy. He is a terrific father and he provides for us and cares for us. And let me just say, as husbands go.... W.O.W. Yep, he's pretty terrific.<br />
<br />
This man can make me laugh like no other. Sometimes it's a giggle, sometimes a smile and a roll of the eyes, and sometimes the laughter is that deep-down, can't-stop-even-if-you-wanted-to belly laugh. <br />
<br />
Batman makes me feel safe. I love the way my hand fits in his... Completely surrounded and covered. He makes me feel beautiful... That look in his eye and little smile he sends me, even when I feel rumpled and frumpy. I feel protected with him. I know that he always has my back and would do anything to make sure I'm safe. I love how tender he can be. People that know him some might scratch their heads at that one and question... Tender?? Absolutely. Time and a place for everything, and he absolutely can be tender, and it always makes me feel so cherished.<br />
<br />
The one thing he always said he WOULDN'T do is dishes... He did so many when he was younger that he said he was DONE. That was one of the prerequisites for a wife. One that would do dishes and not consider it her hubby's job. Um... I'm a stay at home wife/mommy. Of course it's my job. But do you know what he is doing right now? I am curled up on the couch with the laptop and the flu (yay) - everything hurts. My fingers are moving and that is about it. He is in the kitchen doing dishes so that I don't have to. The one thing that makes him cringe he is in doing so that I can rest. It may seem like a small thing, but to me, that is huge. I never even asked. He just tucked me onto the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. Batman truly is a great hubby (he would be without the dishes thing, but seriously, that just earned him like a dozen gold stars!)<br />
<br />
So, Batman, thank you. Thank you for your love and your tenderness and your humor and your hard work, and most of all today, for serving. I love you and appreciate you more than you can know. I am proud to be your wife.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-23584714845823900092010-02-17T21:10:00.000-05:002010-02-17T21:10:12.354-05:00Stalling and Gaining (Weeks four, five and six)Oh. Lord. Ack. Dear Father in Heaven, HELP. Amen. Let's just say the last three weeks have not exactly been... productive... in the weight LOSS department. If I was <a href="http://waasup.blogspot.com">her</a>, I'd get excited... She should now be ahead in the pound-for-pound challenge. By how much? Well, week four, I was at a stand still. Same with week five. Six, on the other hand.... Yeah...... Up 4.2 pounds. Grrrrrreeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaat. I'd love to say it is because we went out on a date. I'd love to attribute it to pizza. Or being tired. Or a multitude of other things. But I need to be real. Yes, those things happened, but I can't make excuses. Those things are just life. I need to be able to follow through even when "life" happens. Otherwise it will just be a yo-yo forever. So, back to square one. Twelve pounds to go. What do you think, <a href="http://waasup.blogspot.com/2010/02/counting.html">E? Can you gain 12 in the next seven months?</a> Ready, set, GO!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-89597495305956558392010-02-14T20:56:00.000-05:002010-02-14T20:56:16.175-05:00Catching up and suchOnce again, I've disappeared. Not for an insanely extended amount of time or anything, but long enough for Batman to begin to worry that all our faithful readers will disappear. Ha. <br />
<br />
I've just been laying low for the last week or so, feeling very tired. And no, not because the pregnancy epidemic has spread to our house. Rest assured, it has not. I've just been quite pooped. A visit to the doctor (you know, that once-a-year kind. *shudder*) has verified that everything is hunky dory. Weight (*scoffs*), blood pressure, general health... And the normal blood work results to tell about cholesterol and all the other <strike>nonsense</strike> very important blood level readings - lovely. Every last one of them is lovely. Yay. So why I am so utterly exhausted is still in question. Answers will be forthcoming, soon, we hope.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, what I really wanted to say was this:<br />
<br />
I love my hubby. Now that I've said that, allow me to grant you a little window into why:<br />
<br />
Growing up, my daddy not only showed my mom how much he loved her, he never hesitated to show me. I grew up with the knowledge that little girls (and grown-up ones, too) are to be cherished, and every Valentine's Day, my dad would do something special for me. The most memorable Valentine's Day for me is February 14, 1997, just four months and three weeks before our wedding. My dad came in to the house and gave me a bouquet of flowers (don't worry, mom got one, too, and hers were always bigger ;) ). I remember tears in his eyes. I know there were tears in mine. He gave me my flowers and told him they would be his last Valentine's Day present to me. The next year my husband would get to take over.<br />
<br />
Batman has done a great job. Not only does he shower me with love, but he has carried on the tradition of showering that love on his own daughter as well. I firmly believe that a large chunk of a little girl's feelings of self-worth stem from her relationship with her daddy. I am so thankful that my little girl is cherished by hers. Both The Girl and I are immensely grateful that Batman knows the way to our hearts.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuloVRnna_fR1-ncIl4Xf-RCpvXwGWPqX6yuizzZi_EdTYnwMVh0_sDnro2qo9ja0CF9B1u5SJf9vauFWqeoObNwfXQBoKzTo2mYkWlPSyTK48uY2SE8atc9eoQUEeoLMUYroAA/s1600-h/January+162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuloVRnna_fR1-ncIl4Xf-RCpvXwGWPqX6yuizzZi_EdTYnwMVh0_sDnro2qo9ja0CF9B1u5SJf9vauFWqeoObNwfXQBoKzTo2mYkWlPSyTK48uY2SE8atc9eoQUEeoLMUYroAA/s400/January+162.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
One for each of us. He's a great man, I tell ya. No, I'm not sharing. Well, ok, maybe just one.<br />
<br />
What I WILL share is this: a post about another race, one about the adventures of a motorcycle, a weigh-in, even though I'd really rather not, and maybe a few others. Stay tuned! I will be back! :) <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-67985564149552423042010-02-02T23:49:00.002-05:002010-02-03T01:51:32.577-05:00What is that sound?A few days ago, I was driving down the road with The Girl and The Baby. I had errands to run and couldn't very well leave The Baby at home, so he had to tag along. For the sake of a quick trip, The Girl joined us so she could sit in the van and occupy The Baby while I ran into the bank. As I drove, I heard the sweetest little baby belly laugh. Every parent and big sister or brother or aunt or uncle out there knows the one. That darling, infectious, innocent laugh. All The Girl was doing was playing peek-a-boo with The Baby, but he loved it, and giggled with pleasure. <br />
<br />
Today while visiting my parents, we were all in the kitchen talking about a kitchen.... mishap... and the laughter started. Something silly and random was said, and the three of us just laughed and laughed.<br />
<br />
This laughter prompted a thought: How much laughter is in your home? Is laughter a normal sound or is it foreign to your ears? I realized how important laughter is and how, sometimes, we might take it for granted. Laugh a little today, even at the simplest and smallest things. While you laugh, remember the Source of our joy. Even in the midst of a tough day, we have that joy and laughter. Remember, the joy of the Lord is our strength.<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote><b><i>Psalm 126:1-3</i></b><br />
<br />
<i>A song of ascents.</i><br />
<br />
<i>When the LORD brought back the captives to [a] Zion,</i><br />
<i>we were like men who dreamed. [b]</i><br />
<i>Our mouths were filled with laughter,</i><br />
<i>our tongues with songs of joy.</i><br />
<i>Then it was said among the nations,</i><br />
<i>"The LORD has done great things for them."</i><br />
<i>The LORD has done great things for us,</i><br />
<i>and we are filled with joy. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><b>Job 8:20-22</b> (New International Version)</i><br />
<br />
<i>"Surely God does not reject a blameless man</i><br />
<i>or strengthen the hands of evildoers.</i><br />
<i>He will yet fill your mouth with laughter</i><br />
<i>and your lips with shouts of joy.</i><br />
<i>Your enemies will be clothed in shame,</i><br />
<i>and the tents of the wicked will be no more."</i></blockquote><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-22043600713252024972010-01-28T08:00:00.000-05:002010-01-28T08:00:24.536-05:00Excuse me, sir, have you been taking any recreational drugs?What that really means is, "dude, are you HIGH?!" On the ambulance, that is not a question I particularly love asking. At home one day, though, I didn't even need to ask...<br />
<br />
I could see the evidence. Toys were strewn everywhere. The sound of thundering feet tearing through the house could be heard. Even a few branches had been broken off of my palm tree. <br />
<br />
When I finally caught up to him, I could see it. His little eyes were dialated. He was breathing fast and hard and could barely sit still. Then and there, I knew the answer......<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrL67uB3svT0z95OQxKM2XcRaW2r2-mVG_fqW1_Dhc64wlNNz6PzrwBAB2OqwkF78Tkqezc7GvGFI6zkxr5Blfd4p_1JHIJ4FsShfRlSVlRbpj08PWKPi9U-2nFt2rLsv6EGxIag/s1600-h/Crumoncatnip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrL67uB3svT0z95OQxKM2XcRaW2r2-mVG_fqW1_Dhc64wlNNz6PzrwBAB2OqwkF78Tkqezc7GvGFI6zkxr5Blfd4p_1JHIJ4FsShfRlSVlRbpj08PWKPi9U-2nFt2rLsv6EGxIag/s400/Crumoncatnip.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
He had been into the catnip.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-6662994193888835572010-01-27T11:05:00.000-05:002010-01-27T11:05:40.249-05:00Progress Report (Weeks two and three)Just in case any of you noticed that I didn't post anything on this last week, take heart: I did not quit. :) Last week I was pretty much in hiding due to being sick and very worn down. Posting anything just was not on my list of things to do. I also ended up moving the "official weigh in day" from Mondays to Wednesdays. I've noticed weekends are not so great, and <a href="http://hiseyes.blogspot.com/2008/02/new-beginnings.html">when I first started counting points</a>, I actually started on a Wednesday, and it went SO. MUCH. BETTER. Monday and Tuesday allow me to recoup from the weekend. <br />
<br />
Last Wednesday I weighed in 2.6 pounds down. Yay! For the most part I drank my water, although, I'll admit, with a very sore throat, the thought of drinking anything wasn't a pleasant one. Most of my water intake was probably in the form of Theraflu. *shudder* Exercise? Hahahahahahahahaha- oh. Extending the week by two days actually allowed me to get four workouts in. Also not bad considering. <br />
<br />
This week I am down 1.6 pounds. I'm noticing a pattern here: <a href="http://hiseyes.blogspot.com/2010/01/at-end-of-week-one.html">Week one</a> was 3.6, week two, 2.6. week three, 1.6. Time to break the cycle. A 0.6 pound weight loss for next week just WILL NOT be acceptable. :) As far as inches lost, I have no idea what last week was, but since the last check in with you guys, I've lost a total of two and a quarter inches. Slow and steady, wins the race, right?<br />
<br />
How would I rate the success of this week(s)? Gotta admit, I'm sticking with that 5. I'm still not mastering exercising five times a week, and I definitely need to! I also need to get back on track with drinking two FULL Nalgenes a day. I did find some great songs for my iPod, though, and good tunes are a must! Last night while I was sweating my <strike>over-sized</strike> little hiney off, I was transported away to memories of being a love-struck teenager holed up in my room... What was playing on the iPod? <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Best_Rock_Ballads..._Ever%21">The Best of Rock Ballads</a>. Absolutely classic. Not exactly get-your-blood-pumping-workout-music, but great tunes, nonetheless. What amused me more was talking to Batman and discovering that I knew more of the songs than he did! How did that happen?!?! I'm certain that all of those songs were more from when he was a teen than when I was.... Hmm.... <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-59779407841826951082010-01-26T17:57:00.001-05:002010-01-26T17:57:40.347-05:00A Little Me TimeIt's three o'clock, the dishes are done, the house is clean, the bedroom is spotless - even the bed is made! (Sad to say, on a day that I don't have "off" the bed doesn't get made before Baby leaves... By the time Batman gets up, it's time for Baby to lay down, so... yeah....). The original plan for this day off was to head to W-ville today, but, The Boy wasn't ready for travel and a day away from home yet (another story for another day... perhaps when prettier "after" pictures could be posted with the original "not-so-good-when-it-happened" pictures.) Anyway, since we didn't travel to W-ville with Batman today, I was able to accomplish all of the normal day activities. A mug of coffee poured, I ventured out to the mailbox to find:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOqozkpY2poYs4TFHCWTSh0XGYnK604ykpDZcd4vhux6kVGWcRH4cBoxgJ-kNiBCLJzIoe4vMxqqxjZ67vKj9mR9DH2cpjFfxEScDTmKBNp9B4XR9v_c_sW4xe2eh1qZIrWoUUEQ/s1600-h/January+066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOqozkpY2poYs4TFHCWTSh0XGYnK604ykpDZcd4vhux6kVGWcRH4cBoxgJ-kNiBCLJzIoe4vMxqqxjZ67vKj9mR9DH2cpjFfxEScDTmKBNp9B4XR9v_c_sW4xe2eh1qZIrWoUUEQ/s400/January+066.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://hiseyes.blogspot.com/2010/01/ive-been-slapped.html">IT CAME IN!!</a> YAY!! :D<br />
<br />
Now I am off, mug of coffee in hand, to curl up in the rocker in said clean bedroom (kinda hard to curl up in the rocker if the extra pillows are on it when the bed isn't made...) and spend some refreshing quiet time. Just for me and God.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-60747513362345717072010-01-25T14:46:00.000-05:002010-01-25T14:46:45.643-05:00I've Been SlappedRecently I came across a devotional on <a href="http://allyouhavetogive.blogspot.com/">All You Have to Give</a>. Fascinated by <a href="http://www.allyouhavetogive.com/2010/01/ive-had-countless-devotionals-but-this.html">what Lori had to say about it</a>, I opened up the excerpt she had at the bottom of her post. And I was sucked in. I'm great at starting, I'll admit it, but oh, the follow-through... It gets me every time. What makes this time different? I don't know. I do know I'll keep plugging away until I get it right. <br />
<br />
The same day I saw it on Lori's page, I went on various sites and found my very own copy for just a couple bucks (yep, you read that right!!), including shipping. Each day I pop back over to Lori's page, open the excerpt and read the next day's (or two) devotional, while I am <strike>im</strike>patiently waiting for my own to arrive via media mail. What I read today struck such a chord with me, that I thought I'd share it with all of you. A little food for thought. While you are reading, I think I am going to go carve out some time for Him.<br />
<br />
(Excerpt taken from <a href="http://www.saraharthur.com/writing/dailygrind/dailygrind.htm">The One Year Daily Grind by Sarah Arthur</a>)<br />
<blockquote><br />
JANUARY 5 <br />
<b>Addicted</b><br />
<br />
My kind relatives gave me a coffeemaker for Christmas, which is in one sense like giving a<br />
heroin addict a syringe and in another like giving a Christian a devotional book and saying,<br />
“Here, I know you’re gonna need this.” (Hold on, cowboys: I don’t use metaphors lightly.)<br />
My family knows I’m addicted to caffeine, which is clear when I go without it for even<br />
one morning. I feel foggy and crabby and get a headache by midafternoon. If I’m traveling<br />
someplace where coffee isn’t on hand for breakfast, it’s something of a crisis until I find a<br />
drive-through Starbucks or whatever—and then of course there’s always a long line of irritated<br />
junkies just like me. Sad, really.<br />
<br />
The funny thing about it is I hated coffee for a long time and couldn’t understand<br />
why people drank the stuff. It’s the kind of thing you have to develop a taste for. It doesn’t<br />
come naturally, but then when it’s finally part of your routine, you’ll move mountains to<br />
get your hands on it.<br />
<br />
Kind of like the spiritual life, when you think about it. We know it’s important to<br />
spend time every day reading the Bible and praying, but it’s not the kind of thing that<br />
comes easily to us at first. We have to develop a taste for it. But once we get in the habit<br />
of it, life feels out of sorts if we go without it for any length of time. We can’t think<br />
straight. We feel crabby and start growling at the people we love. Then when it finally<br />
occurs to us what the problem is, we wonder, How could such a tiny ritual be so important?<br />
And yet it is. We’re not really content again until we’ve spent some time each day<br />
nurturing our spirits with the revitalizing presence of God.<br />
What would happen if I got as addicted to God as I am to coffee? How can I move<br />
heaven and earth to carve out time for him every day?<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">Psalm 63:1-5<br />
</div></blockquote><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/131/3B20B8074B7EB4BA596AA75511764814.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>Mrs. Guthriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07180155901745114728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376595.post-54902155155685186652010-01-23T13:13:00.005-05:002010-01-23T13:44:26.885-05:00How To TutorialRecently, it has come to my attention that I have readers that I didn't know I had... How cool!! That got me thinking... how many more are out there that I don't know about? So, I turned to my stat counter (I had ignored it for MONTHS) and realized there are quite a few of you lurking out there... checking in, reading all of the nonsense posts that I write, and then disappearing again. There are some of you that leave me an occasional note on the sidebar, and I have to say, I love those little notes!! :) Keep 'em coming!! But, do you want to know what every blogging girl L.O.V.E.S?? I'll tell you.....<br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">C</span>OMMENTS!!</span><br />
<div style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">I </span><style>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">♥</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Comments!!</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Really, I do!! </span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><span style="font-size: small;">You see, when no one comments on a post (or, only a daddy, a cousin and a sister-in-law do comment), a blogging girl can feel a bit like maybe she is just talking to herself. I'm just sayin'... Really. So, since I see you lurking out there, I thought I'd give you a tutorial on how to leave a comment, because, just maybe, you didn't know that you COULD leave comments on the posts. Maybe.</span><br />
<ul><li><span style="font-size: small;">First, read the post. That's easy. You should have that part down by now. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">Next, at the bottom of the post, you should see a line that says "X people have left their two cents." That is a link. Click it!! The link takes you to the little comment window. There you can leave your comments for this blogging girl to read so she no longer feels like she's talking to herself. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">After you write your comment in the box, choose your identity. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">Last, type the letters you see in the verification box and hit the "publish your comment button."</span></li>
</ul><span style="font-size: small;">It's as simple as that!! :) Happy reading and commenting, everyone! :) </span><br />
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