tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29758761176854177912024-03-05T18:10:33.628-06:00Beside Still WatersAnitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.comBlogger189125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-49163624298199759232017-07-22T06:45:00.003-05:002017-07-22T22:34:55.455-05:00CheekwoodMy daughter and I recently drove up to Nashville to see the "Downton Abby" exhibit of many of the clothes and costumes worn during the series. It was at the Cheekwood mansion, and my first visit there. It was a beautiful day and we arrived early to walk around the gardens before the heat became too unbearable. We took the self-guided tour through the many rooms of the mansion where the clothing was displayed.<br />
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-4079972270026063372017-04-09T11:38:00.001-05:002017-04-09T12:48:49.481-05:00Pictures<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Growing up in my era we didn't take a lot of pictures. Of course, there were the school pictures, which I dreaded, and Mom rarely bought because they were so hideous. And then there were the obligatory holiday pictures with the siblings in front of the Christmas tree, but not a lot of random photos were taken. With marriage and children I became the photographer in the family and always had my Kodak 35 mm camera handy and the photo albums filled up fast. Still, we did</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">n't take as many pictures as people do today with their smart phones. After going to a visitation of an old neighbor of mine I realized you can't ever take too many photos. Because those photos leave a legacy of love and family. And one of these days those photos will hold the memories of your loved one. So take all the pictures you want.</span><br />
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-77481533625300194622017-01-22T15:22:00.000-06:002017-01-22T15:22:43.493-06:00The WorldThe world goes on<br />
and people get up<br />
day after day<br />
and go to work, go to the market<br />
the doctor, the dentist,<br />
to get their oil changed<br />
and hair cut<br />
and meet old friends for lunch<br />
<br />
They stop at red lights<br />
turn on their lights in rainy weather<br />
wave at their neighbors<br />
and stop for yellow school buses<br />
<br />
they go to church on Sundays<br />
and choir practice on Wednesday nights<br />
Bible study once a week<br />
say grace before meals<br />
say the rosary if they are Catholic<br />
believe in God and his son, Jesus Christ<br />
Amen<br />
<br />
The world goes on<br />
the war continues<br />
and yet we will vote again, soon<br />
and try to make sense of the world<br />
as we pay our taxes<br />
take out home equity loans<br />
and build a compost bin in the back yard<br />
doing our part to help the environment<br />
<br />
The world goes on<br />
as our children grow up<br />
and we grow old<br />
our grandchildren learn to walk,<br />
start kindergarten and lose their baby teeth<br />
and start to ask grown-up questions<br />
<br />
Who is God?<br />
Why did Grandpa die?<br />
Where is heaven?<br />
We read stories about the three little pigs<br />
and Cinderella, but they are smarter than we are<br />
and the questions get harder.<br />
<br />
And suddenly, one day,<br />
we cannot hide the gray hair<br />
nor put off that knee replacement<br />
and we wonder where did the years go<br />
where are all the people?<br />
What happened to them?<br />
The faces in our scrapbooks and photo albums<br />
in college yearbooks<br />
and class pictures<br />
from decades ago?<br />
The world goes onAnitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-63552422672182978492017-01-04T12:21:00.001-06:002017-01-04T12:21:19.051-06:00Grandchildren Stories<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/47/0BA8233F5F9A482E3F13AD5E0F855DB1.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0;" /></a><br />
<br />
I always say that grandchildren are cheap entertainment. Out of the mouths of babes come the most profound or funniest sayings.<br />
<br />
Four of my grandchildren spent the night with me on New Year's Day. They were out of school until today, January 4th.<br />
<br />
My eight-year old grandson, 'Luca,' loves to draw. His favorite character is Charlie Brown and Snoopy. One of his presents was the Charlie Brown book, the 1960's edition (which is the one he wanted). They have them for the other decades, as well.<br />
<br />
On New Year's Day, after breakfast, he wanted to go to the library.<br />
<br />
"Honey, the library is closed today because it's a holiday."<br />
<br />
"Oh, man! I wanted to check out "War and Peace" by Leo Tolstoy." he replied.<br />
<br />
"Where did you hear about <i>that</i> book?"<br />
<br />
"Charlie Brown. I figured if he could read it, so could I."<br />
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Luca loves history (like his grandmother) and is also a sentimental child. Since he lived with me for almost three years, he was looking through a dresser drawer where I saved a lot of his baby items. His little blankie with the bear head wasn't there.<br />
<br />
"Nemaw, do you know where my blankie is from when I was a baby? That was my favorite."<br />
<br />
"No, you probably took it with you when you and Mom moved. It may be put away in a box."<br />
<br />
"Do you think she could find it if I called her?"<br />
<br />
"Why don't I buy you another one if it's that important to you?"<br />
<br />
"No, it wouldn't be same. I had that from the time I was a baby."<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think the blankie is in there somewhere.</td></tr>
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My younger granddaughter, "Mae-Mae" was looking through a picture album of her mother and aunt when they were children, Five-year Mae-Mae was asking lots of questions. She asked about her grandfather, who is in heaven, and wanted to know all about him.<br />
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When I was doing something else she brought me the album to show me a picture.<br />
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"Look, Nemaw!" "There is Grandpa standing in front of God." It was a picture of my husband taken in Crete many years ago. I have no idea where that came from, but it warmed my heart.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A picture of my husband when he went to Crete while he was in the Army.</td></tr>
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<br />Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-6845978045276849172016-12-11T20:00:00.000-06:002017-01-22T09:21:46.861-06:00My Christmas List<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<em>Dear Santa, </em><br />
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<em>I am writing you early in hopes that you will receive my letter in plenty of time before your trip.</em><br />
<em>You may not remember me, the little German girl in a knitted shawl and cap, blonde hair and a couple of missing teeth. I wrote in crooked letters back then, learning my alphabet. That was about 50 years ago. </em><br />
<em>I wanted a doll, some chocolate candy, and some new mittens to keep my hands warm during the cold winters in Germany. I remember the oranges that I received, wrapped in delicate tissue paper. Oranges were rare in winter and we only had them at Christmastime.</em><br />
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<em>Before I make out my list I want to thank you for the presents I received last year. The robe keeps me warm and cozy and fits perfectly. I love my fuzzy slippers! I loved my gift card to the book store. The kitchen gadgets come in handy. I truly appreciated all the pretty and thoughtful gifts I received.</em><br />
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<em>I'm keeping my Christmas list simple this year. Christmas is about the kids, so don't run yourself ragged over a middle-aged woman who has everything she needs. Please, no new kitchen appliances to clutter up my already crowded cabinets. Come to think of it, I don't really need a new waffle iron. And, please, no more lotions, bath oils, or spray colognes. I am highly sensitive and besides, I already have enough lotions to satisfy the moisturizing needs of an entire nursing home! </em><br />
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<em>Christmas is about the children. Please fill their stockings with a home full of love. Bring them lots of smiles and presents of overflowing joy. Give them hugs and kisses and stories to read. Bring them lots of goodies, too. And of course, honor their little lists of toys and games and dolls, but also teach them that it is good to give, as well as receive.</em><br />
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<em>What I really want for Christmas is for children and adults to believe. Believe in good things, believe in the impossible, believe in hope and love. There are gifts we can give to one another that don't have to be wrapped and tied with pretty ribbons. The gift of love. The gift of forgiveness. The gift of understanding. The gift of hope. The gift of encouragement. The gift of friendship. Practical gifts wear out and break down, but the gifts of the heart are eternal. And most of all, the gift of the baby Jesus should not be forgotten amidst the tinsel and strings of lights.</em><br />
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Sincerely,<br />
Anita </em>Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-27513027282151240332016-12-04T14:19:00.001-06:002016-12-04T14:19:38.878-06:00Gatlinburg WeddingIt is been a busy Fall. The end of October my daughter and I drove to Gatlinburg to see my nephew get married. We were there for only a short while, but managed to take a few pictures before we came home. Gatlinburg is only a four drive from where I live. Of course, hearing about the fires in the recent days is heartbreaking, as my family has so many memories from the Smokies.<br />
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The view from our hotel room.</div>
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The wedding chapel in the woods.</div>
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The tunnel going to Gatlinburg.</div>
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At Pidgeon Forge</div>
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On the way home</div>
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-15515983964549901832016-09-07T02:55:00.000-05:002016-12-04T13:34:41.999-06:00On the Lake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
My granddaughter had ankle surgery last week. "Mommy, take my chair on the pier, so it feels like I'm on the lake," she asked my daughter, while her sisters were jet-skiing with their Dad.</div>
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So Mommy did. </div>
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-34523902783897776122016-07-21T16:47:00.001-05:002016-12-04T13:37:26.947-06:00The Things that Children SayI am constantly entertained by the things my grandchildren say. And sometimes they teach me things I didn't know that I needed to learn. I think that every grandparent feels this way.<br />
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Recently, my seven year old grandson asked me,</div>
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"Mamaw, do you ever get lonely?" </div>
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"Why do you ask that?" I said.</div>
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"Because you call my Mom all the time."</div>
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Oh boy, did I learn a lesson there!</div>
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And when my daughter picked me up for lunch one day she chose a Chinese restaurant that I had never been to before. The boys, all three of them, were well-behaved and opened their fortune cookie at the end of the meal. I read Sam's fortune cookie, which said, "You will get lucky." Lucas told Sam, "You need to give that to my Mom, because she hasn't had any good luck lately." I almost died laughing!</div>
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My younger daughter has three girls. Allie is the middle child and has to share a room. The girls wanted a fish tank for their rooms, something small. The older sister teased Allie, telling her that she would have to share a fish tank with her baby sister. Allie wasn't having any of it and put her hands on her hip, " I have to share a room. I have to share everything with her! I am not sharing a fish!"</div>
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They each got their own fish.</div>
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-80529717718645394242016-07-21T16:34:00.002-05:002017-01-22T09:27:00.506-06:00Drive Through ZooYesterday, when I had the day off, I took four of my grandchildren to a local Safari. First, we went to swimming lessons for my grandson. At 8:00 in the morning it was already hot. When I picked them up bright and early the little ones were still rubbing the sleep from their eyes (it is summer vacation, after all), so after the lesson ended I took them to McDonald's for breakfast. Since Mommy wasn't picking up the girls until lunch time I decided to take them to the Safari animal park. We bought food at the gate and had to be careful feeding the animals. When I took my grandson the first time he got scared at the Emu that tried to poke its long neck into the car window. The children were fascinated by the animals and were able to pet the pony, the deer and even the Zebra. I wouldn't roll down the window when the bull or the buffalo came near, however! At the end we parked the car and went to see the reptiles, the snakes (even an albino Python), and fed the tortoises. It was lots of fun and the kids are ready to go back, but not until I vacuum the car out!<br />
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-76308334709728804922016-06-19T00:18:00.000-05:002016-06-19T08:21:58.931-05:00Father's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today is Father's Day. <br />
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My father was a career soldier. He joined the Army after he graduated from high school and knew nothing but hard work from an early age. My mother was a stay-at-home Mom. They were young parents and raised five children. Although they divorced when I was grown they kept us together for 20 years and always put the family first. When money was tight, my Dad would take extra jobs to put food on the table. My parents took cleaning jobs on nights and weekends and eventually started an antique clock and restoration business. At one time we had over 30 clocks hanging on the walls, many of them chiming on the hour and half-hour. <br />
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I remember my father sitting at the dining room table many nights as he polished his brass and spit-polished his boots. <br />
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I remember my father getting up before daybreak and dress in his uniform to make PT by 6 a.m.<br />
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I remember especially the time he returned from Vietnam, surprising us as a cab dropped him off in front of our house. He got to meet my baby sister for the first time. She was 9 months old.<br />
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I remember the many moves we made across the country and overseas, tackling the moves and keeping up with five kids, ages 2-12. When we went overseas we had to wait more than a month to get our household goods and all of our belongings, not to mention, the family car. My parents were champions to get us enrolled in new schools, find us temporary housing, and never lose any of us at the airport!<br />
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My parents always managed to get us what we wanted for Christmas. I had to have a guitar when I was 13 years old. Standing next to the Christmas tree that year was a real guitar, just for me. I needed money to go to London on a high school trip when we lived in Germany. He managed to come up with the funds. The older I get the more I appreciate what my parents did for us, too often with limited resources.<br />
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My Dad helped my buy my first car at the age of 19. I had saved $700.00 and he loaned me the other $700.00 to buy a red Volkswagen beetle. I paid the loan back.<br />
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When I was a teen-ager, like every young person, I thought my parents were too strict. My siblings and I didn't have the freedoms that young people now have. There was no dating or "hanging out" before a certain age. We had household chores to do. It was ingrained from an early age that we were a military family and our actions could influence my father's career. <br />
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My father wasn't a soapbox type of Dad. He didn't lecture us a lot. We knew what was expected of us. <br />
He showed us what it meant to have a work ethic. He didn't have to tell us what it is. <br />
He showed us what is meant to be patriotic by serving his country. <br />
He showed us what it meant to be responsible by taking care of his family.<br />
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I'm sure there are a lot of Dads just like him. Let us honor them today.<br />
<br />Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-81041106940262327262016-05-08T20:55:00.002-05:002017-01-22T09:34:52.768-06:00Mother's DayToday was Mother's Day. It was a perfect day. My daughters surprised me by taking me to lunch at a seafood restaurant about an hour's drive from here in a quaint little riverfront town. The kind of southern restaurant that sits on the river and serves sweet tea and hot cornbread in little iron skillets and tin plates for the appetizers. The food was good and the service was great. They were prepared for a busy Mother's Day, seeing all the servers in their matching polo shirts.<br />
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Afterwards, my granddaughters wanted to buy some potting soil and seeds, so we made a trip to Home Depot. They miss the garden, so my daughter told them that they could grow a few things in clay pots. They wanted strawberries and heirloom tomatoes and marigolds and even bought some watermelon seeds (the small variety), so we will see how it goes. I was excited that the girls, ages 5, 9 and 11, would show an interest in growing things. They are outdoorsy kids and would rather walk around the block instead of staying inside. </div>
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-15637039485456389972016-04-04T07:30:00.004-05:002017-01-22T09:36:53.269-06:00Say Hello to Spring<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Is it April already? I am glad to say say good bye to March. </div>
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I went to the park on Saturday to enjoy the weather.</div>
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It was still a bit chilly, but the sun was shining </div>
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and the cherry blossoms are starting to bloom.</div>
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<br />Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-83716664757258560532016-01-19T04:46:00.000-06:002017-01-19T19:58:26.802-06:00Morning Rituals<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"> I listen to your footsteps in the early morning</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">turning on the kitchen faucet</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">and starting the coffee</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">I listen as you unlock the door</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">and walk to the end of the driveway</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">to pick up the morning newspaper</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">I listen to the clock radio</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">as another Top 40 record plays</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">and as the DJ tells another silly joke</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">I pull the blanket over me</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">through the weather report</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">and the latest news headlines</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">You open the bedroom door, softly</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">to see if I am awake</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">I rub the sleep from my eyes</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">and reach for my robe</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">which had fallen to the floor</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">and wrap it close around me</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">You pour my morning coffee</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">as I hunt for my reading glasses</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">You chatter; I am quiet</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">the early bird and the night owl</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"> We are familiar with each other's habits </span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">especially in the early morning hours</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(c) 2005 <i>Anita M. Ashworth</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(I wrote this several years ago)</i></span></span></div>
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-21414411709635710362016-01-17T11:04:00.003-06:002017-01-22T09:53:55.102-06:00January BlessingsI celebrated another birthday this month. I am now 39 with 20 years experience, as I like to tell people. Although next year, when I change decades, I will have to confess to my true age.<br />
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Still, as many people say, every day above ground is a good day.<br />
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I have much to be thankful for. My two daughters. My six grandchildren. My son-in-laws who are good and decent men.<br />
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Have a blessed day!<br />
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Five of my six grandchildren. This was taken on my birthday.<br />
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<br />Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-59384630927921136752016-01-17T10:18:00.000-06:002017-01-22T09:52:39.153-06:00Footnotes in History<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I recently discovered new facts on my husband's side of the family. I was able to back to the 1700's and found out that one of his ancestors was baptized in the Old St. Paul's Church in Baltimore. The gravestone belongs to Jane Stansbury, the daughter of Thomas Stansbury. She married John Lemmon, who is a direct ancestor of my late husband. Genealogy is much like being a history detective and connecting the dots.</div>
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Another interesting story that I discovered in my brother-in-law's family tree is that one of his ancestors immigrated from North Carolina to Tennessee in the 1780's to one of the Cumberland settlements near Nashville. John Donelson brought a large party down the Cumberland and built Fort Nashborough (now Nashville). As a child we took a field trip to this fort and what was intriguing to me was that John Donelson's daughter, Rachel, became the wife of Andrew Jackson. "Andy" Jackson was a well-known frontiersman at the time and became famous for the infamous "Trail of Tears" legislation that sent the five Eastern civilized tribes to Indian territory (now Oklahoma). Sadly, Rachel died and never lived in the White House. Their marriage was actually quite a scandal back then because Rachel was previously married and her divorce was questioned by Jackson's enemies. </div>
Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-6939997480641156342016-01-10T23:20:00.001-06:002017-01-22T09:55:04.001-06:00On Being OrdinaryA friend shared a link to an article on her Facebook page regarding the younger generation and how they have been brought up to think that they are "special." It was an interesting perspective and although I don't (generally) like generalizations, there was a lot of truth in the article.<br />
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Let's face it, most of us are ordinary. Special is nice, but when I was growing up, there were very few special kids. You either had to be sent to the Principal's office on a regular basis or be the Teacher's Pet year after year to claim that title. There were the random kids whose brief claim to fame may have been doing something that the rest of us were in awe of (vacation, unusual pet, BIG Christmas present, etc.) They were special for that reason. But the rest of us, oh well, we rode the school bus, we fought with our siblings, we ate cereal and watched Saturday morning cartoons...in other words, our childhoods were pretty similar and ordinary.<br />
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We grew up to have ordinary lives; get jobs or go to college, pay bills, fix the car, have children. Along the way we faced our disappointments and frustrations. Perhaps life wasn't always that easy. Some of my friends went through divorces; some of us lost our spouses and buried parents and other family members. The things that we all go through. It doesn't make us special; it makes us ordinary, like the mortal human beings that we are.<br />
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I think the problem with thinking that we are special is that it breeds discontentment. To maintain our "special" title we may compare ourselves to others and see success through rose-colored glasses. We will never be skinny enough, or rich enough, or our house will never be big enough, our careers never fulfilling enough because we think that ordinary is so, well, ordinary and we don't want to be ordinary.<br />
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I know that I am "special" to a few people, my grandchildren, but I realize that as they grow older, my "specialness" may wear off like a fake tattoo, as they grow up and pursue their own lives. But, hopefully, I will maintain my "specialness" to them as much as they are special to me.<br />
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I believe that we are all special in God's eyes, but he has many, many children, so waving my hands or jumping up or down is not going to make a big difference. He knows I'm there. He knows you are there. And that's enough.<br />
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So make the best out of your ordinary life. I am.<br />
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-19732279318348043202015-12-24T14:10:00.001-06:002017-01-22T09:55:54.966-06:00Merry Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Wishing everyone a blessed and joyous Christmas!</div>
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-28098728811122821642015-12-21T20:41:00.001-06:002015-12-21T20:47:31.676-06:00Little Tree<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I decorated sparingly for Christmas, with a small, "Blue Christmas Tree"</div>
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perched in the corner of my living room. </div>
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But I did put out my snow globes and Christmas cards and Nativity. </div>
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With working full-time and trying to do it all, I have come to the realization</div>
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that I can't do it all, so I must choose and prioritize.</div>
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I choose to do things that bring me joy</div>
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during the Christmas season</div>
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Last week I had free tickets to take my two granddaughters to see</div>
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"The Nutcracker." It's not something that we do every year. This past Sunday I helped bake cookies and make food gifts with my daughter at her house. The girls watched Christmas movies and nibbled on the goodies and kept their pajamas on all day. The girls</div>
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decorated their Gingerbread House and wanted to eat it as soon as it was set!</div>
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It was a lot of fun!</div>
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Today I helped deliver a few food baskets to needy families. </div>
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To me, this is what Christmas is about.</div>
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However, I haven't been completely lazy, mailing out my Christmas cards on time and having wrapped most of my presents by now.</div>
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-13396055402782470912015-12-21T20:18:00.002-06:002015-12-21T23:16:27.624-06:00The Stars Up AboveLast Saturday evening a friend and I drove up to the mountain to the Planetarium to listen to a presentation of "The Star of Bethlehem", a historical and astrological view of the times during the birth of our Savior. My friend is more versed in Astronomy, but I am a complete novice and haven't been to a planetarium since I was a child.<br />
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It was quite an interesting program, with Biblical passages and bits and pieces of historical events that aligned with the birth of Jesus.<br />
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After the program we ventured outside to look at the stars through the telescopes that the astronomers guided us to and pointed out the Constellations visible in the clear, dark sky. Names like Orion and Andromeda. It was quite chilly and I was glad to have worn my warmer coat. Below the mountain we could see the city lights and above, the sky was clear for a winter's night, stars shining brightly.</div>
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We walked down the darkened path towards my car, flashlight in hand, having gained new knowledge about Nebulas and galaxies and light years. I am anxious to go back and take my grandchildren.</div>
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-72185303332142276422015-10-25T10:18:00.000-05:002017-01-22T15:06:03.908-06:00God's Masterpiece<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: start;">When God created the earth he took out his blue crayon and colored the sky. He then found another shade of blue and colored the ocean. He found a brilliant yellow and called it the sun. Black became night. He colored the earth brown. The many shades of green became the grass and the trees. He used the deep purples and violets and pinks and colored the flowers. By now he had used almost all of the crayons, but there were some crayons left; the burnt oranges, the rust reds, the copper browns. So God had a brilliant idea. He would also create different seasons. Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. And with the remaining colors God created his masterpiece, Fall.</span></div>
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Fall is my favorite time of the year. The colors are peaking right now, so I try to take advantage of my days off and explore our local nature trails. We also made a side trip to a local Pumpkin Patch. I took these pictures over the last two weekends. </div>
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-21436593760546254732015-10-08T22:30:00.001-05:002015-10-08T23:06:19.575-05:00The NailHave you ever had those days that seemed so out of kilter, when everything seems to go wrong? Yesterday was one of those days. Before I walked out of the door in the morning I heard my phone ring. I didn't answer it in time and had to listen to my messages. Normally, I do not listen to my messages before I go to work, but this one was important. A dear, elderly friend passed away yesterday morning and her husband called to give me the sad news.<br />
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Work was keeping me busy and we played phone tag a couple of times before I was able to reach him and offer my condolences.<br />
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At lunchtime one of my coworkers informed me that I had a flat tire. I pushed the thought aside because sometimes I can get panicky when things break down, especially since I don't have a man around the house and son-in-laws are usually at work and not available to help in a mother-in-law crisis. And then again, I work with a bunch of women and a busy day is hardly the right time to try to change a tire when there is a lobby full of members waiting to be seen. I adopted my Scarlett O'Hara attitude, "I won't think about it right now, for tomorrow is another day," (also known as "procrastination").<br />
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Finally, close to closing time I called my insurance company, and yes, I had roadside service, so they promptly sent a man to change my spare tire.<br />
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It was a nail.<br />
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The man noticed that my other tire was in need of service, and since my engine light had started coming on, I arranged to take my car to Firestone the next morning.<br />
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It was a good thing that I did. Apparently, when I had my oil changed last week something wasn't sealed all the way (I know nothing about cars, so please forgive my vagueness) and the mechanic told me that I had no oil! Engine light...red flag. My daughter told me that I was lucky.<br />
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Yes, all because of that dumb nail.<br />
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Oh, and to top it off I had two phone calls waiting for me at work regarding a possible compromise on my debit card, which turned out to be false.<br />
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I am thankful for that nail.<br />
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On our way to Birmingham this past Sunday. It was a beautiful day.</div>
<br />Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-40352783642655595152015-09-16T22:36:00.001-05:002015-09-16T22:36:15.997-05:00The End of Summer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Labor Day weekend seems to officially mark the end of summer, although the children have been in school for more than a month. My younger daughter and her husband have a camper, so I was thrilled to spend the day at the lake with my grandchildren. For a treat we went to an old-fashioned ice cream parlor. The town itself is right out of a vintage magazine.</div>
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The lake was quiet and peaceful. The children had fun riding on the golf cart with their "Paw Paw."</div>
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I came home that night and slept well after all the fresh air.</div>
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-676588101313386382015-08-21T22:06:00.001-05:002015-08-21T22:44:36.647-05:00Coincidence or God's Way of Remaining Anonymous<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">This is a picture of my grandparents, Karl and Anna, in 1923. I never knew my grandfather. He died from cancer a few years after the war, long before I was born. "Oma" lived for another 40 years. I remember a story that my mother told me about my grandmother, a story that could be called a coincidence, but not if you believe in something more. My mother had a picture of herself hanging on her bedroom wall. One night it was storming so badly that the thunderstorm caused the picture to fall and break on the floor. It woke her up. The next day my mother received a phone call from Germany that Oma had passed away that morning. The time difference between Germany and the United States is around six hours. It was around the same time that my mother was awakened by the storm and the fallen picture. She called me in Texas to give me the sad news. Whether this was a coincidence or God's way of remaining anonymous, I will never forget that story.</span><br />
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Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-52310031633449007202015-07-10T21:08:00.000-05:002015-07-10T22:03:34.226-05:00Ten Places in My Heart<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here are some random pictures from my files. Some bring a tinge of sadness, some of joy, all of memories stored in my heart.<br />
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This is a castle near the German village that I was born in. Every time that we</div>
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went to visit my Oma we would pass this view and knew that we were almost home.</div>
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When my daughter and I went to Washington DC our very first stop was Arlington Cemetery. We walked to JFK's eternal flame, walked all the way to the top and toured Robert E. Lee's "Arlington House", which he lost during the Civil War and whose heirs were involved in a lawsuit to reclaim after the war; We watched the changing of the guard in awe and silence.</div>
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And we walked among the graves; the sky was a perfect blue above the thousands of white crosses.</div>
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There is a little cove in the Great Smoky Mountains, Cades Cove, where my spirit comes alive in the untouched landscape of hundreds of years ago.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpfKjFyMKRsb94g0Jvme8WzIS3ZIYaeYttiy-EgrAvAnBbXPwr64MrLbv84nPmjYmMVX0SuxJKaPo3f2VThfbS0s0-od36kI4yzQVuSCU93E8ac8nVGTYMu9NtVenehY1gMAU20xnu10/s1600/08-29-2014+07%253B03%253B17AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpfKjFyMKRsb94g0Jvme8WzIS3ZIYaeYttiy-EgrAvAnBbXPwr64MrLbv84nPmjYmMVX0SuxJKaPo3f2VThfbS0s0-od36kI4yzQVuSCU93E8ac8nVGTYMu9NtVenehY1gMAU20xnu10/s320/08-29-2014+07%253B03%253B17AM.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A fountain in Savannah, Georgia, a beautiful and historic city divided into</div>
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squares with gorgeous homes and Southern gentility. We came here on a trip to visit some old friends. I would like to go back someday.</div>
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This is a picture of the government housing, or "quarters" that we lived in while stationed in Germany in the 1960's and 1970's. Some of my fondest memories are from my 'Army brat' days, and later, Army wife.</div>
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London was my favorite city. I think I was British in my previous life:) We spent four days in London, took a side trip to Windsor Castle, rode on the Underground, and went to see three plays while we were there.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrHP6s9miS-vhQt4k5dPGp-mMvgqzFIfpvf4ObelXUZzX4B2aP4O2BGrBiTo3_ANh7X4zgs_NKCcAX9M3vj6LBLDnKxVqrV7xm3T7WLkJhR2XJhfLIGHErDPL9TkBwLY7O5BXIa7AHnU/s1600/08-13-2014+11%253B27%253B28PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrHP6s9miS-vhQt4k5dPGp-mMvgqzFIfpvf4ObelXUZzX4B2aP4O2BGrBiTo3_ANh7X4zgs_NKCcAX9M3vj6LBLDnKxVqrV7xm3T7WLkJhR2XJhfLIGHErDPL9TkBwLY7O5BXIa7AHnU/s320/08-13-2014+11%253B27%253B28PM.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The Mississippi River, picture taken in Hannibal, Missouri. </div>
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My sister and her husband lived here briefly and showed me around (Mark Twain)</div>
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Samuel Clemen's hometown. I fell in love with the little river town and was pleased</div>
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to see my niece graduate from high school.</div>
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The lighthouse in Biloxi, Mississippi. My husband's family lived on the Gulf Coast and for many years we made regular trips to the coast and rented a condo on the oceanside. Sweet memories of my husband and mother-in-law.<br />
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Paris in 1978, my husband and me.</div>
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My sweet mother, taken in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, on a trip to the mountains when</div>
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she was undergoing cancer treatment. We lost her seven months later.</div>
Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2975876117685417791.post-73005232682734097842015-07-10T20:19:00.004-05:002017-01-22T10:30:22.719-06:00Summer "Staycation"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Four of my grandchildren spent the night with me this week. I am the "crafty" Nemaw, so I found this</div>
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bird feeder idea on Pinterest. It is very simple. Cut up two oranges. Let the children eat the</div>
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oranges (which they did). Mix together oats, peanut butter and birdseed and pack it into the oranges. I used some skewers and twine to hang them up. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicOgOCDcc5PTm7evLgcfwlksRDC9n_AVbzItWzvL_qDcld3TXWFwUqPVGdlaT758po7jbq2AWsUTcgMxnBtEC0V8peCBKMnvsgggx0gjDhsBRKLvCZl7N1R5GQtHWzrJrbWP3Sl7o3t-M/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicOgOCDcc5PTm7evLgcfwlksRDC9n_AVbzItWzvL_qDcld3TXWFwUqPVGdlaT758po7jbq2AWsUTcgMxnBtEC0V8peCBKMnvsgggx0gjDhsBRKLvCZl7N1R5GQtHWzrJrbWP3Sl7o3t-M/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We went to a matinee to see "Max" the movie. Wonderful movie.</div>
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Afterwards, we walked around to see the fountains.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9kmFRvec8n6WJVODzb-Cn7FoPFHQOjgi2xCIKYD1DRwYp7DYzv7p16M2gKD6ZWZQ9Tl-j4iHKGzun2bwsL3MDt4oUsyZ5N6VXqLU49sDHuXVvCIA5GDhitkcK7MulqHpOQVdrg_OOGY/s1600/039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9kmFRvec8n6WJVODzb-Cn7FoPFHQOjgi2xCIKYD1DRwYp7DYzv7p16M2gKD6ZWZQ9Tl-j4iHKGzun2bwsL3MDt4oUsyZ5N6VXqLU49sDHuXVvCIA5GDhitkcK7MulqHpOQVdrg_OOGY/s320/039.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZYLDCSNwx11dUk7-y95Y_zTIGF8OG2CXRqrTH0Aaiirpky3sYC9C-92SQJfQ6uHKQMGrhMcKRsVS3bj9YzInbDa86xuWGqqfjcYmGa5d-wucVTP_AVRlRztqVNTj2o56A-dWqHuon7k/s1600/044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZYLDCSNwx11dUk7-y95Y_zTIGF8OG2CXRqrTH0Aaiirpky3sYC9C-92SQJfQ6uHKQMGrhMcKRsVS3bj9YzInbDa86xuWGqqfjcYmGa5d-wucVTP_AVRlRztqVNTj2o56A-dWqHuon7k/s320/044.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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It turned out to be a beautiful and sunny day.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPyitkFdQ7H279WQT2er690lrMHA7_fhb6R0KGdHE7qLDBujhuZjnCgrL2ay63WMFkjYhQepTxRTXAR7-ZC06LhXBUICby7BgbiisXj4sm_lZ4RK9Xmg_kGIvINepEN_a1PbvRrmvGyk/s1600/049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPyitkFdQ7H279WQT2er690lrMHA7_fhb6R0KGdHE7qLDBujhuZjnCgrL2ay63WMFkjYhQepTxRTXAR7-ZC06LhXBUICby7BgbiisXj4sm_lZ4RK9Xmg_kGIvINepEN_a1PbvRrmvGyk/s320/049.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Anitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03205461146035913939noreply@blogger.com0