<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sat, 02 Jan 2010 03:47:59 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Fresh Fixins</title><description></description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>390</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-682596805458279770</guid><pubDate>Thu, 31 Dec 2009 21:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-31T13:33:04.236-08:00</atom:updated><title>Getting Out of the Dog House</title><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0VWNKMTJI/AAAAAAAACeo/2Lz_NA8NKoU/s1600-h/Picture+614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0VWNKMTJI/AAAAAAAACeo/2Lz_NA8NKoU/s200/Picture+614.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My camera was out of batteries this morning. I was going to take a picture of my husband painting on his hands and knees. Something about seeing that, is getting him out of the doghouse.He is working on the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody was really relaxed. I missed the shot where he was lying with all 4 paws just sprawled. When I moved to get the camera, he turned to look at me, and moved his front paws. Tucker is somehow related to Garfield. I am sure of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0VQxdviUI/AAAAAAAACeg/MvQ5zSDWhfo/s1600-h/Picture+613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0VQxdviUI/AAAAAAAACeg/MvQ5zSDWhfo/s320/Picture+613.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0U5Kw4pyI/AAAAAAAACeI/VISH0aZbhnE/s1600-h/Picture+601.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0U5Kw4pyI/AAAAAAAACeI/VISH0aZbhnE/s200/Picture+601.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is what I plan to do today. Copy the cat and lay around and eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I have a cold so Happy New Year! I won't be drinking much or celebrating much. I went out today and bought my stash of cold drugs and Puffs. It's amazing how fast a nose can get sore. Kayla brought this mess home. She has been sick as stink. My hope is for a smaller version of what I saw her get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;*Washes hands wildly*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0VAUc2y5I/AAAAAAAACeQ/266iAsps4EU/s1600-h/Picture+602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0VAUc2y5I/AAAAAAAACeQ/266iAsps4EU/s320/Picture+602.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was my holiday baking in total.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0VKi8fLQI/AAAAAAAACeY/SVK3iyyMCvQ/s1600-h/Picture+603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0VKi8fLQI/AAAAAAAACeY/SVK3iyyMCvQ/s200/Picture+603.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;One grande home made banana pudding.&lt;br /&gt;One apple cider nut bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how then did I gain 5 pounds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Was it one large bag of mint chocolate M&amp;amp;M's? And 2 bags of Hershey's Mint Truffles Kisses? How about the holiday creamer for coffee? Pumpkin Spice or Chocloate Mint Truffle? You think so? How much did you gain? Go ahead and tell. I double dog dare ya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to the subject of, New Year's resolutions.&amp;nbsp; Actually I make it a resolution not to make resolutions. BESIDES losing weight has anybody thought of anything really inspirational for a New Year's Resolution? If you have a great one maybe I'll sign up.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-682596805458279770?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/12/getting-out-of-dog-house.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sz0VWNKMTJI/AAAAAAAACeo/2Lz_NA8NKoU/s72-c/Picture+614.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>12</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-6966389654983706862</guid><pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 19:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-29T11:56:23.265-08:00</atom:updated><title>OK I've Got A Proposition.</title><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzpX3JlD4-I/AAAAAAAACeA/A02T4jdRrLA/s1600-h/Picture+212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzpX3JlD4-I/AAAAAAAACeA/A02T4jdRrLA/s200/Picture+212.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I have noticed that we are all having postSANTAdepressionitis. That is a new word. Everybody is blue, well it seems like it. Everywhere I have been reading people are bleak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Santa skipped me completely this year. It is the first time on Christmas morning that I had no gifts. I had some early ones and I bought myself some. I had told my husband he didn't have to get me anything because of our finances. Wow big mistake. He took me at my word. Go ahead and say it, "you asked for it." Well being smart has never been a total state of being for me. I alternate between smart and insanely stupid. You just can't predict your emotional reaction to something. ZAP SMACK KAPOW, it was a total bust. Combined with the fact that said husband would not get up out of bed. He moped around and acted withdrawn and sappy; and the kid would not open her gifts until said husband was present. By then I was mad, yelling,&amp;nbsp; and every other negative adjective. Go ahead and give it a whirl, yeah that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; As Kayla opened each gift (at 10:30 after said husband's shower!)&amp;nbsp; she looked sweetly at Pa and thanked him. Once when she held up a pair of earrings he did actually speak. He said, "Never seen them before." That should have given clueless a clue as to WHO was responsible for her awesome Christmas morning; but nope. Clueless undauntedly continued smiling at that MAN. Ever seen Bill Cosby's skit (Bill Cosby Himself) about teaching his son to play football? When the kid is a star and all the glam is on him you know, the spotlight and the microphone; the kid waves to the crowd and says, "Hi Mom." Yeah, something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Did you get the idea that Christmas morning was a total bust at our house? The next day I packed up all the decorations and put them away.&amp;nbsp; I know the meaning of Christmas, but it didn't help. I had some great experiences prior and after. I did have a couple of nice gifts before.&amp;nbsp; The actual morning was not pretty. I'm still a kid, I like the magic and the fun. I wanted my husband to think about me and at least get UP out of bed early, and smile, and be sweet. He could have tried to make pancakes. Or a card with a promise for a date or something. that is the point SOMETHING not NOTHING! He could have least tried to be somewhat festive instead of a big grump. I could've killed him!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Anyway, it's done. So if you want to air your disappointment go ahead. OR...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; On the other hand. I have an idea and this is the proposal. How about we just move on and have some fun.&lt;br /&gt;Karen at &lt;a href="http://therockingpony.blogspot.com/"&gt; TheRockingPony.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; gave her kids an awesome gift. She painted their rooms and fixed them up the way the KIDS wanted them to be. I was thinking about some times when my Mom re did my room as a surprise and it was not such a great surprise. Once it was really bad. So did you ever come home to a room that was redone for you and what was your reaction to that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Well what do you think? Does it sound like fun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; If I was smart I would set up that Mr.Slinky so you can leave your story and all that. If you want to do this &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;maybe&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; I'll figure that out. If you really want to do this maybe I will pick my favorite best story and give a prize.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we better just have your story in the comment section or send it to me in an e-mail. I can post the best one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to play? Want to win something?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-6966389654983706862?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/12/ok-ive-got-proposition.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzpX3JlD4-I/AAAAAAAACeA/A02T4jdRrLA/s72-c/Picture+212.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>16</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-8482908501913323052</guid><pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 18:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-28T11:01:17.809-08:00</atom:updated><title>We've Been Watching Movies</title><description>What do you do when your tired of everything else? I go to the movies or go rent a pile of them. Lately we have done both. So move over Grandma J, I am going to do some reviews!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Cobject%20width=%22560%22%20height=%22340%22%3E%3Cparam%20name=%22movie%22%20value=%22http://www.youtube.com/v/cRdxXPV9GNQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;%22%3E%3C/param%3E%3Cparam%20name=%22allowFullScreen%22%20value=%22true%22%3E%3C/param%3E%3Cparam%20name=%22allowscriptaccess%22%20value=%22always%22%3E%3C/param%3E%3Cembed%20src=%22http://www.youtube.com/v/cRdxXPV9GNQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;%22%20type=%22application/x-shockwave-flash%22%20allowscriptaccess=%22always%22%20allowfullscreen=%22true%22%20width=%22560%22%20height=%22340%22%3E%3C/embed%3E%3C/object%3E"&gt;&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cRdxXPV9GNQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cRdxXPV9GNQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AVATAR. We loved this movie. We saw it in 3D and it was just awesome. EXCEPT for the story line of the old evil exploiting empire= us Americans. It's Dances With Wolves in space.&lt;br /&gt;The planet Pandora ( is this from the fable Pandora's Box?)&amp;nbsp; is a very beautiful place and all the creatures are very engaging to look at. Personally the riding of giant butterfly colored flying prehistoric birds is just way to cool, and very exciting. I really loved the movie, I'm just sick of this story line. I think it's terrible when a story makes us all hope that OUR marines get killed off so the other guy can win. You will feel that way because what is being done on this planet is soooooo wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for a really big surprise. This movie is old news; it is a new release at Blockbuster. When is the last time you read a blah book and the movie is better? Has Holly wood ever taken a book and made it better before?&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it ALWAYS, "they ruined this book"?&amp;nbsp; If you remember I wrote a pretty tough review of the book "Julie/Julia the project. I really loved the idea but the book was just trashy. There was so much in it that a really good editor would have cut out. Guess what? That is exactly what they did in the movie. I rented it and LOVED it! The movie develops the story of Julia Child in more depth. The movie cuts out all the profanity, the weird sex ideas, curiosities, and other thoughts that are not related to the overall theme of this story. The movie also cleaned up the Julie character giving her a more compassionate heart. In the book she is very cold and detached. In the book she is not just a bad housekeeper but a disgusting one. The movie cleans up the apartment, makes it inviting, including making you feel like you could go over and eat there. I loved the movie.&lt;br /&gt;I hated the book, and that ladies and gents is a first for Hollywood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else have we been watching? Thought you'd never ask. Every Hallmark movie on TV, and all the Christmas specials. Are you wondering if something is different? Do you remember we turned off our TV months ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some splainin to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a notice that our DSL bill would increase by $15 a month, our new subscriber special was completed. They also offered us basic limited cable for $5. a month and that would keep our current rate for the DSL at it's current price. So the question was to pay $5 more for more services or $15 for the same. They got me. I turned it back on. I have been like a junkie on a binge ever since. Me the person who said they didn't miss TV has been stinkin glued to the dang thing. I watched Holiday On Ice twice because I loved the music mixed with the skating and the alternative was to clean house or some other notion that I could easily talk myself out of. It seems that everything these days is distracting me from my blog. Today I got up and declared that I would post! So here it is! I know you are greatly relieved that I have not slipped into non blogger oblivion. I do however think it would benefit me greatly to go back to work and get a life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-8482908501913323052?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/12/weve-been-watching-movies.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>11</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-2002031570716706202</guid><pubDate>Wed, 23 Dec 2009 18:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-23T10:09:09.370-08:00</atom:updated><title>Merry Christmas to You!</title><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJZZgOPY6I/AAAAAAAACdw/pEbCJgVfGyI/s1600-h/Picture+580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJZZgOPY6I/AAAAAAAACdw/pEbCJgVfGyI/s320/Picture+580.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a been="" celebrating="" friends.="" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJZBian94I/AAAAAAAACdg/HYdZ1Y4vg3w/s1600-h/Picture+574.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" ve="" we="" with=""&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJZBian94I/AAAAAAAACdg/HYdZ1Y4vg3w/s200/Picture+574.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJY8WjMYJI/AAAAAAAACdY/ZMPciF8XfKM/s1600-h/Picture+575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJY8WjMYJI/AAAAAAAACdY/ZMPciF8XfKM/s320/Picture+575.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJYpPMDVfI/AAAAAAAACdQ/byXjbGMR-xI/s1600-h/Picture+599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJYpPMDVfI/AAAAAAAACdQ/byXjbGMR-xI/s200/Picture+599.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJZN_tAsZI/AAAAAAAACdo/ZNPvWig1opM/s1600-h/Picture+582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJZN_tAsZI/AAAAAAAACdo/ZNPvWig1opM/s320/Picture+582.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QgYbFpJ5sHw&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QgYbFpJ5sHw&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been celebrating with our friends and getting ready for the big day. Now it's almost here.&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to take a few minutes to say to my blogging friends; I wish you the merriest Christmas and may your hearts be full of joy and hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These little children are the grandchildren of our good friends. I asked permission from their mother to share this with you. These children are 4 year old twins. Maybe I am stating the obvious (which I am very good at) but it sure seems to me that kids are much smarter these days, much younger. Spoken like a real old lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The photos of the different nativity scenes were taken at a friends house she has over 75 of them. I shared a couple of favorites. I especially love the gourd, it is from Colombia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We enjoyed the Carols by Candlelight show with our friends. All that beautiful music gets my heart singing and in the right mood; it never fails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And believe it or not I have managed pretty well with the spending this year. I went a bit over board on the girls but you know how it is. Kayla doesn't have a single gift under the tree. (yet) Maybe she will believe in Santa Claus again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a wonderful spirit filled Christmas!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-2002031570716706202?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas-to-you.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SzJZZgOPY6I/AAAAAAAACdw/pEbCJgVfGyI/s72-c/Picture+580.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>16</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-8081011608144934907</guid><pubDate>Wed, 16 Dec 2009 17:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-16T09:26:17.695-08:00</atom:updated><title>It Makes ME Think</title><description>&amp;nbsp;What do you do with your "junk" mail? It seems like in December I get at least a half dozen requests per day for different charities and social causes. I usually toss them out, at least most of them. Not being a total Scrooge, there are a couple that I will open up and mail a check too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost tossed this one. But then I looked at it.&amp;nbsp; A little child in the snow in a shirt. Children that are freezing cold. No-- after what just happened to me; I cannot toss it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.worldvision.org/Clothing"&gt;www.worldvision.org/Clothing&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you love a good deal? Do you love to make your money stretch? Well how about this? Brand new beautiful warm clothes to freezing kids. Sounds like a way to say Merry Christmas to me. Even $15 will send $210 of warm clothes and shoes to someone who is COLD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think near freezing to death may have thawed my apathetic heart. It's easy to ignore in the warm comfort of my own home. I am still a bit traumatized. It is weird that if I feel the cold; I also feel a bit of panic. I have to talk myself down and remind myself that I AM ALRIGHT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;World Vision isn't asking me to do this. I'm not getting anything for it. I am just asking you, to take even a small amount or a nice big fat amount;&amp;nbsp; and send it to this very reputable organization so they can deliver all these nice new warm things to freezing kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said, "I was naked and you clothed me," when you did it to the least of these you did it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spread some Christmas love! ...and warm coats.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-8081011608144934907?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/12/it-makes-me-think.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-1635676501010028293</guid><pubDate>Tue, 15 Dec 2009 05:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-18T11:56:55.228-08:00</atom:updated><title>Verra Near A Catastrophe</title><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SycXj2YqVDI/AAAAAAAACdI/TbH5GnndvK0/s1600-h/Picture+540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SycXj2YqVDI/AAAAAAAACdI/TbH5GnndvK0/s320/Picture+540.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night we were invited to a wedding. I had really been looking forward to it. The wedding was in the evening and a year of preparation went into it. The mother of the bride is a friend of mine and she has a black standard poodle. We always talk poodles and of course the wedding. She had asked me if I would mind helping out, by coming by her home before the wedding to let her dogs out to have some "potty time." I said sure. I love dogs and it would be no trouble at all. She had a little fiest she is dog sitting, a new puppy of one of her relatives (a Chi-poo) and Jag the big pooda. She asked me to let them out one at a time.&lt;br /&gt;The baby puppy would be in the bath tub because he is 2 pounds and too tiny to be around the other dogs. He had his pee pads and food and water in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounded like too much fun too me. I love dogs and a baby one too. Puppy breath. I was feelin the love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got there and opened the back door, both the dogs scooted out before I could bat an eye. Oh well, they would just romp. I was going to look for the puppy as I was unsure of the location of this bath tub; when I heard the little fiest yelp. I thought I had better check them because Jag is a big dog now at least 50 to 55 pounds. I stepped out to look at them and-- the door closed by itself-- behind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to open the door and it was locked. The windows were locked. The place was locked up like Fort Knox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was locked out, in the back yard. In the dark with basically nothing but the porch light on. The yard was fenced with standard tall fences all the way around. I could not see any gates. There was no way out. It was 6:30 pm and very cold. VERRA VERRA COLD! I bet the windchill was 10 degrees. The temp was bout 30 and I was dressed up for a wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not belabor my misery. I did not cry at first. I used a plastic barbecue tarp to make a wrap and hunker down in. I tried to break the glass on the back door when I thought I might die out there of cold. Did you know that it is very hard to break a door? I think only the crooks know how, because I could not do it. Do you also know that a good boy scout always carries matches? There was a barbecue and a chiminea and a fire would have made the whole experience much better.&amp;nbsp; Then the dogs and I could have comfortably waited for a rescue. I knew eventually some one would come back home. They expected to return after midnight and I really hoped it would NOT be that long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have a cell phone. My husband didn't have their address or the code to the gate. He wasn't sure of how to find me,&amp;nbsp; and he freaked out when I didn't show up at the wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was one shorter iron fence I looked at, trying to figure out how to get over it. It had spikes on top. I imagined the spikes sinking into my fat flesh if I couldn't haul over them. Not a good plan.Then I would be cold and hurt too. They had some heavy iron patio furniture. I thought of taking two chairs down there and picking one up and setting it over the fence, and then climb on the chairs. It was dark over there and hard to see. The chairs were heavy. VERRA heavy! I thought I might shorten my time of being trapped and freezing only to suffer for weeks with a new back injury. I have a verra bad back. So I huddled by the door and shivered. I vetoed the heavy lifting escape plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of things go through your mind in an unexpected problem like this. Periodically I yelled for help. Then I realized that the neighbors were most likely at the wedding! I didn't know how long it had been because I didn't have on a watch. Some lights went on next door. I began hollering LOUD for help. I yelled and yelled and then sat down again about to despair into tears. My shivers had gone from little to big. Have you ever seen movies where cold people are convulsing with cold? I was having the big huge shakes. It was traumatic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had returned to the chair, my tarp, and the little fiest who had decided to get into my lap when he got cold. Sweet little rescue boy we cuddled each other and it helped. I was beginning to despair, tears threatened.&lt;br /&gt;Was I going to die out there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard a man's voice ask, "Is there someone there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instant freak! YES HELP ME PLEASE!!!! I began talking one-hundred miles an hour. "I'm here to take out the dogs and I got locked out hours ago- and I'm FREEZING TO DEATH!!!!!" PUHLEEEZE HELP ME!&lt;br /&gt;I was crying hysterically. All efforts to keep it together went right out the window. He said they had a key and would come right over. I asked him to call my husband and gave him the phone number. They didn't have a key it was the one I had used; and it was in the house. The door was open but nobody tried it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he got a flash light and figured out how to take that iron fence apart. We walked through it and he put it back together. He took me to his house where they had a fire going. I told them what happened, it was 10:30pm. I had been out there for 4 hours. He said," No good deed goes unpunished." I looked at him and asked, " Are you medical?" Yep a retired doctor. He was cool and calm that night and later told my friend he was worried about how cold I had gotten.He also told me that what took him awhile from my calling to answer me was he was looking for his pistol. Oh my God that would have done me totally in. I told him thank you for not pointing a gun at me in my dire straights. We did laugh. It felt so good to laugh. It wasn't long before my own knight in shining armor arrived to help me home. That man has never looked so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did take my temp when I finally got home, after a shower and under a mountain of blankets, with the electric on high; and I was OK. It took a long time to quit shivering. The next day all my muscles hurt and I was deeply fatigued. Very grateful not to be injured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brush with disaster. And do I have a flashlight and a book of matches in my purse today? No, but they are coming believe me. I do have an answer to this question. Which is worse to be too hot or too cold? Too cold. Burning up in a dessert would be pretty bad, but freezing is just horrid. I do realize it wasn't even that cold, this is after all the south, but it was cold enough to be really painful and scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My New Years resolution will involve some kind of survival kit and the boy scouts. Do they have scouts for Grandmothers? I want a basic survival back pack. I am serious. After the 1989 earthquake in California I kept a huge sterilite bin with emergency supplies in my car and took it everywhere. I still have 2 transistor battery operated radios and more flashlights than a person needs. One small purse light coming right up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is Christmas but if you want to share your disaster stories I am all ears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-1635676501010028293?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/12/verra-near-catastrophe.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SycXj2YqVDI/AAAAAAAACdI/TbH5GnndvK0/s72-c/Picture+540.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>21</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-4624673983475468783</guid><pubDate>Mon, 07 Dec 2009 19:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-07T11:17:32.256-08:00</atom:updated><title>Let It Snow</title><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1S7FjAZEI/AAAAAAAACc4/CdBOYnRSlg8/s1600-h/Picture+564.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1S7FjAZEI/AAAAAAAACc4/CdBOYnRSlg8/s200/Picture+564.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1SM9GWF2I/AAAAAAAACcI/_EDmk4Swgxg/s1600-h/Picture+536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1SM9GWF2I/AAAAAAAACcI/_EDmk4Swgxg/s320/Picture+536.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1SUX7nsBI/AAAAAAAACcQ/ukT2HcJREWM/s1600-h/Picture+558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1SUX7nsBI/AAAAAAAACcQ/ukT2HcJREWM/s200/Picture+558.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1SrocO40I/AAAAAAAACco/45f1POA4mbw/s1600-h/Picture+560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1SrocO40I/AAAAAAAACco/45f1POA4mbw/s320/Picture+560.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1Sa_qzUqI/AAAAAAAACcY/IJB_21HmUEE/s1600-h/Picture+537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1Sa_qzUqI/AAAAAAAACcY/IJB_21HmUEE/s200/Picture+537.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1SzH5l3jI/AAAAAAAACcw/1vYFdGYr87k/s1600-h/Picture+563.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1SzH5l3jI/AAAAAAAACcw/1vYFdGYr87k/s200/Picture+563.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1Sj5HME-I/AAAAAAAACcg/Lu8juyT5Ytk/s1600-h/Picture+534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1Sj5HME-I/AAAAAAAACcg/Lu8juyT5Ytk/s200/Picture+534.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;These pictures were taken at 11:00 at night. They are not black and white. Isn't this pretty? The snow was a nice soft dry powder and we went outside to play in it and play with snowballs.I know that if&amp;nbsp; you have lot's of snow all the time it's no big deal. We have heat. It was still 94 degrees in early November here. In the last ten years I have lived here we have never had enough snow to make a snow ball, so of course we had to go out and play in it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-4624673983475468783?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/12/let-it-snow.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sx1S7FjAZEI/AAAAAAAACc4/CdBOYnRSlg8/s72-c/Picture+564.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>19</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-3132721755158254713</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 Dec 2009 18:35:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-03T19:32:34.498-08:00</atom:updated><title>Always a LOT of Work.</title><description>I have been working on these. I have been painting and sanding and climbing on stepladders. I haven't been blogging much, because my body is working against my will. It just keeps going. I think I have those pink batteries in my innards. What would be nice is to sit down and have coffee. I would like to go blog visiting and reading, maybe even write a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf7ix5Md1I/AAAAAAAACbk/X7hycUXNqGM/s1600-h/Picture+475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf7ix5Md1I/AAAAAAAACbk/X7hycUXNqGM/s200/Picture+475.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead the work list is growing because now it is December again. What happened to this year? Didn't I just harvest my garden last week? How did this happen? I feel like Rumpelstiltskin.&amp;nbsp; Every year we haul out all this stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf61EXVkoI/AAAAAAAACa0/PrlFaZwiNVE/s1600-h/Picture+519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf61EXVkoI/AAAAAAAACa0/PrlFaZwiNVE/s200/Picture+519.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a chore that I dread doing, alternating schizophrenically between bah- humbug and ooh goody it's Christmas! Is anyone else that weird? My back may go out while wrestling the tree into one piece, or hauling those storage boxes out from under the stairs. One never knows what perils lie waiting to plague one while getting into the festivities. Then you may happen upon a loan dead cockroach ( it's the South)or a spider lurking in the tissue paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when it's done....and the music is playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf6-oO0gwI/AAAAAAAACa8/jbbn5QWDz9k/s1600-h/Picture+520.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf6-oO0gwI/AAAAAAAACa8/jbbn5QWDz9k/s200/Picture+520.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I shout halleluiah I am finished let's celebrate!&lt;br /&gt;Bring on those libations!&lt;br /&gt;Yeah libations--spiked eggnog--hot toddies--Ben &amp;amp;Jerry's&lt;br /&gt;OK--a glass of wine will suffice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf7GY_bL-I/AAAAAAAACbE/up7sdE2xW7M/s1600-h/Picture+521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's ready for Santa if he should happen to be in the neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf-13aSK1I/AAAAAAAACbs/ZhRlVyXVuEg/s1600-h/Picture+515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf-13aSK1I/AAAAAAAACbs/ZhRlVyXVuEg/s200/Picture+515.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He is here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;That's good news. He'd smile but his feet are temporarily resting on my present. It's flooring! It may be next Christmas before we finish putting it in but it's going to get done eventually. Do you know what the perk is for him? Can you guess why a man would volunteer for a job like this? He doesn't have to do any shopping, other than trips to Lowe's! That place has become our second home.The man is comfortable at Lowe's.&amp;nbsp; He has been working very hard in the utility room. It is almost finished, when you see that you will be impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf7MgnLEVI/AAAAAAAACbM/2woZj0TRuhU/s1600-h/Picture+522.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf7MgnLEVI/AAAAAAAACbM/2woZj0TRuhU/s200/Picture+522.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf7TB-P8GI/AAAAAAAACbU/yFbbDiUC-eA/s1600-h/Picture+523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf7TB-P8GI/AAAAAAAACbU/yFbbDiUC-eA/s200/Picture+523.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The other little project I did yesterday was put these "valances" up. It's actually just fabric kinda wrapped around the rods and pinned with straight pins, a real Joe Maggee job. Joe is proud!&amp;nbsp; I have learned from the master.If you sew and are wonderful please don't say anything. This is it around here; me and Joe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe rhymes with Moe which explains this picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you think your family is complete someone else wants to move in. Meet Moe. He got left when the next door neighbor moved away. Moe eats here daily but never wanted to come in until the weather cooled off. Now, he is coming in the house. Santa is not so keen on another indoor/outdoor critter. I am perplexed. I am a dog lover! What is the deal with all these cats? A big cosmic joke. Moe is a nice cat, he is shy, but he's OK for a cat. He is neutered which is great. Tucker is at the vet today having that rude operation.That is his Christmas present, getting his cat nads snipped. I wonder if the Marlboro man snips their pets? The calf nut posts are really something aren't they? Pruning sheers and a hot fire....sounds like a song--"&lt;strike&gt;calfnuts&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp; roasting on an open fire". I'm really getting into the holiday spirit don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see all of this work and not enough sleep last night has provided you with a lot of free flight of ideas! Yeah it's rambling. But if I don't post it you may not hear from me until New Year's. Well at least that is my excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas to us and God bless us every one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-3132721755158254713?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/12/always-lot-of-work.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sxf7ix5Md1I/AAAAAAAACbk/X7hycUXNqGM/s72-c/Picture+475.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>9</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-6771701072288620088</guid><pubDate>Fri, 27 Nov 2009 18:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-27T11:05:43.122-08:00</atom:updated><title>Crayola Crayons</title><description>&amp;nbsp; When I was young I loved the box of 64 Crayola crayons. At the beginning of the school year I would get a new box. It was yet another thing that I loved to smell. Opening that box and inhaling deeply of the new fresh crayon fragrance I always chose my favorite colors first. My favorite colors were Burnt Sienna, Magenta, Midnight Blue, and Forest Green. Then there were the second place colors, and third place colors. The metals were fun too and mix it all up with black. I loved to make a squiggly scribble&amp;nbsp; all over a piece of paper with black and then color it in; a junior Picasso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SxAZCgStdwI/AAAAAAAACas/0y-ah7mZ6t4/s1600/Picture+482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SxAZCgStdwI/AAAAAAAACas/0y-ah7mZ6t4/s320/Picture+482.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SxAY4cVWt1I/AAAAAAAACak/tHVCu3FKQE8/s1600/Picture+508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SxAY4cVWt1I/AAAAAAAACak/tHVCu3FKQE8/s320/Picture+508.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; So now that I am an "adult" (ah-hem) I find that I am navigating back to that color crayon box. I really like color. I like color on my walls! Not scribbling on the walls, color on the walls. I also like warm colors and rich tones- forget the pastel stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; This hallway is ready for painting. It is not a small job. It requires scaffolding. Not a place to chose a color and then change your mind. I am so sick of this sage green I could rename it puke green. I had thought about painting it the same color as the living room which I do like. There is a big BUT here though; the hall has poor lighting. I have thought of a solar light but the roof is too steep for the honey to navigate, the pitch would pitch him to his untimely demise.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Having a two story hallway limits options for adding electrical lighting. The color choice is moo-ie importanto! I'm thinking about the honey butter color because it is lighter than the front room but in the same color family, but I am not crazy in love with the color. The dilemma is--I hang pictures in this hall, a lot of them, a virtual gallery of them. Pictures look better against a strong color, it makes them just pop. So what do I do? Ignore the bad lighting and paint with a strong color? Midnight blue? (just teasin)&amp;nbsp; The same as the living room? And to make it all worse my camera did not reproduce the color swatches accurately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do when you are making big decisons? Eat pie? Drink more coffee? Sleep on it again? The time has come the walrus said," to paint it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-6771701072288620088?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/11/crayola-crayons.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SxAZCgStdwI/AAAAAAAACas/0y-ah7mZ6t4/s72-c/Picture+482.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>11</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-4016235548858402612</guid><pubDate>Thu, 26 Nov 2009 18:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-26T10:06:15.094-08:00</atom:updated><title>Happy Thanksgiving!</title><description>&amp;nbsp; My garden is having a second spring. Fall is the best time of year here in Mississippi. The weather is incredibly gorgeous. This little fellow is enjoying himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw68F8BUc9I/AAAAAAAACac/XbRCh1fVp80/s1600/Picture+495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw68F8BUc9I/AAAAAAAACac/XbRCh1fVp80/s200/Picture+495.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67aAQtXxI/AAAAAAAACZ8/pQ9mGereT6c/s1600/Picture+490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; Today we pause in all of the busy activities we are doing, to think. I have been taught to be thankful, and for that I am thankful. Thankfulness does not come naturally to us, like selfishness does. At least that is true at my house. If we are honest about it, each of us is a master at looking out for our own interests, but we work at being kind and loving to each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67aAQtXxI/AAAAAAAACZ8/pQ9mGereT6c/s1600/Picture+490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67aAQtXxI/AAAAAAAACZ8/pQ9mGereT6c/s200/Picture+490.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; This man is always thinking of others, he is the real deal; a good man. I am crazy about him but you know that. Today I am thinking about being thankful for him, and for 22 years of marriage. How does that happen? One day you are young and saying "I do," and 22 years later you are much older and still together and more in love than when you started; it is a mystery and a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67jCEWXzI/AAAAAAAACaE/m6G2fu0W6po/s1600/Picture+503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67jCEWXzI/AAAAAAAACaE/m6G2fu0W6po/s200/Picture+503.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; Not to get too sentimental- today is also about FOOD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67JnB8aYI/AAAAAAAACZs/s4QCZ0dVyyo/s1600/Picture+504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67JnB8aYI/AAAAAAAACZs/s4QCZ0dVyyo/s200/Picture+504.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; One of my favorite things...country style dressing. I love this stuff so it must be fattening. Wait, it is fattening!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67PlLYDjI/AAAAAAAACZ0/u3UxUm_-Y14/s1600/Picture+501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67PlLYDjI/AAAAAAAACZ0/u3UxUm_-Y14/s200/Picture+501.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; I start with a whole cube of butter and an onion finely chopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67CsW_59I/AAAAAAAACZk/aOmGcln5p98/s1600/Picture+505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67CsW_59I/AAAAAAAACZk/aOmGcln5p98/s200/Picture+505.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; Then add a LOT of chopped celery, I go ahead and chop up the leaves why throw those out? Then saute this until it is cooked and salt and pepper it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw668xy1DaI/AAAAAAAACZc/Tb_TpWgZ-Qg/s1600/Picture+506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw668xy1DaI/AAAAAAAACZc/Tb_TpWgZ-Qg/s320/Picture+506.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; I had planned to show you the whole process, but a friend came by, and I kept cooking and forgot to take pictures. I had made stock from the gizzards and neck that I use to moisten this. This time I added up chopped turkey because this isn't going into the bird. I already cooked the turkey for Kayla to have more meat for her diet.&amp;nbsp; In fact I have already boiled down the carcass and turned it into soup stock. Busy little thing wouldn't you say? But the secret to good stuffing is to taste it and season it just right, before you cook it.&lt;br /&gt;Um, and the eggs, I added 6 whipped up into a fluff of yellow, and they give that "souffle" texture to the dressing. You really can't mess this up unless it's&lt;i&gt; dry&lt;/i&gt; so pour on the soup!&amp;nbsp; I have in the past added different ingredients for something special; dried cranberries, apples, nuts, pineapple, etc. This year it's just plain. Just plain delicious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67rN_VoBI/AAAAAAAACaM/gVkZblxANkU/s1600/Picture+502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw67rN_VoBI/AAAAAAAACaM/gVkZblxANkU/s200/Picture+502.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; These have been around since October and they have kept quite well sitting on the porch. It's time for them to be part of the feasting so they will be cut, cleaned and roasted. The big pumpkin will be soup. Pumpkin ginger coconut soup and yes it is fabulous. The small sweeter one will be pie. I am also baking sweet potatoes for pie and some to eat with roasted marshmallows on top. I love it. It might be junk food but I don't care, it's the way my Mama did it, and once a year won't hurt anybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw671XhQyEI/AAAAAAAACaU/GfGIua4AyLE/s1600/Picture+499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw671XhQyEI/AAAAAAAACaU/GfGIua4AyLE/s200/Picture+499.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;I am also thankful in a very real way for my two feet. Jojo I am praying for yours! I am grateful that both my feet are walking today, free of any orthopedic devices. I am grateful to be healthy. I have eyes that see and hands that work. I can talk. I can hear, (sort of) I can sing, ( well that is debatable too), and I am alive in this good green earth that the Lord has made. Today is a day to rejoice and praise Him the one who has given us all these good things. The one who loves us all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Oh give thanks unto the lord for He is good! For his mercy endures forever!" Psalm 118:1&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-4016235548858402612?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/11/happy-thanksgiving.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sw68F8BUc9I/AAAAAAAACac/XbRCh1fVp80/s72-c/Picture+495.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-794840659794133869</guid><pubDate>Mon, 23 Nov 2009 20:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-23T13:51:42.423-08:00</atom:updated><title>Odds and Ends.</title><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwrxtLTyxmI/AAAAAAAACZE/NG5Ipz-hIzI/s1600/Picture+475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwrxtLTyxmI/AAAAAAAACZE/NG5Ipz-hIzI/s200/Picture+475.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwryBVjwz6I/AAAAAAAACZU/YcL8eGyoLwE/s1600/Picture+473.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwryBVjwz6I/AAAAAAAACZU/YcL8eGyoLwE/s200/Picture+473.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;These stairs are going to keep us busy. The plan is to refinish the step and paint part white like the side trim. The carpet is fixing to go to where ever it is that dead carpet goes--the dump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Swrx5xTYXKI/AAAAAAAACZM/qYLyJmb3jSY/s1600/Picture+474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Swrx5xTYXKI/AAAAAAAACZM/qYLyJmb3jSY/s200/Picture+474.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Saturday the down town library had a book sale. My little heart was pitter patting in excited expectation. Memories of the Santa Cruz Civic Center with it's piles of maybe a million books, in&amp;nbsp; organized sections filled my mind. What I found was one full row of books. Mostly what they are pulling from their shelves to withdraw from circulation. For $1.00 each hardback and 25 cents for paperback I managed to spend 20 bucks and took all I could carry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwrxnTxCauI/AAAAAAAACY8/OVOfZRsDS3s/s1600/Picture+476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwrxnTxCauI/AAAAAAAACY8/OVOfZRsDS3s/s200/Picture+476.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;It is cold enough for a fire. The perfect day to begin reading my plunder. I love book sales. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwrxeflRtjI/AAAAAAAACY0/PHBWPvoyTDo/s1600/Picture+478.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwrxeflRtjI/AAAAAAAACY0/PHBWPvoyTDo/s200/Picture+478.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I also recovered the cornice that is above the couch and switched the couches around. I've been re organizing with the thoughts of moving everything out to put the flooring in. BIG job!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwrxYZtCSUI/AAAAAAAACYs/HA83nPhC-Ew/s1600/Picture+479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwrxYZtCSUI/AAAAAAAACYs/HA83nPhC-Ew/s200/Picture+479.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I took the big round coffee table out and made this little one. It's two baskets and a piece of glass. I thought the big table took up too much room and competed with the circle design of the carpet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The closets and drawers have been purged. It's a nice feeling not having too much stuff in here and now i am ready for the flooring to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to go to Stewpot and serve folks for Thanksgiving. Kayla is really working at losing weight. I didn't have anyone to invite over and just don't feel like cooking. We thought it would be good this year to just go pitch in and help out with the hungry. I'll make a sweet potato pie to have when we come home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-794840659794133869?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/11/odds-and-ends.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwrxtLTyxmI/AAAAAAAACZE/NG5Ipz-hIzI/s72-c/Picture+475.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>14</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-44922752311791283</guid><pubDate>Tue, 17 Nov 2009 22:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-17T14:37:04.884-08:00</atom:updated><title>Just Cute.</title><description>What's different in this picture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwMhLn1HNCI/AAAAAAAACYE/Y5m6iBLWxTc/s1600/Picture+467.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwMhLn1HNCI/AAAAAAAACYE/Y5m6iBLWxTc/s200/Picture+467.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405200461328757794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Do you see the real "toy"?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he was feeling lonely and decided to snuggle with some buddies.&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was too cute not to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I'm still cleaning and going to the Goodwill. Just about done. The house is looking GREAT. Drawers are getting emptied out, closets debulked, it's liberating! It's so easy to get dressed when the only things in my closet are items that I can actually wear.  No more shopping for the current size either.  We (Kayla and I) are trying to lose weight so we aren't cooking. No pies. No cookies no nada. Not eating much. Meat and vegetables how interesting is that? No photo ops.&lt;br /&gt;But you know what? It's time for all that celebratory food and I never lost what I gained last year! I refuse to get bigger, no no NO! I mean for Pete's sake; my feet are breaking under the load now.  To me that is a big hint, the body would prefer to lighten the load. DUH...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Books? Well, yes I am reading but if I keep talking about it, I might get labeled and that will never do. Just a nice heart warming story you say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Heart In the Right Place," by Carolyn Jourdan. This is a true story about a woman who has it all, money, high powered job, a Mercedes...and her mother has a heart attack. Her father is a country doctor in a rural area of Tennessee and her mother helps run his very old fashioned practice. She goes home to help out and from there her whole life gets turned upside down. Its sweet, hilarious, and well...it's true. What can be better than that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently I am tessering through "A Wrinkle In Time," series and am reading the last book.  I have a different perspective after reading the Crosswick Journals and can see that some of the settings are from her farm. It's been a very enjoyable rerun. Children's books can be for everyone, especially these. These would be good read aloud books for family time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How are you?  Do you have big plans for Thanksgiving?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-44922752311791283?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/11/just-cute.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SwMhLn1HNCI/AAAAAAAACYE/Y5m6iBLWxTc/s72-c/Picture+467.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>17</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-1473521618118808370</guid><pubDate>Fri, 13 Nov 2009 20:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-13T13:51:21.867-08:00</atom:updated><title>A Lover of Books</title><description>Ever since I was very young, I have loved books. There is something about a new copy, not yet read that is magical for me. I love to smell the paper and gingerly run my hands over the front cover and feel of the pages, savoring the text before reading it.  It's a memory that goes back as far as I can remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sv3F2-5gZqI/AAAAAAAACX0/X1gtX7mlggM/s1600-h/Picture+465.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sv3F2-5gZqI/AAAAAAAACX0/X1gtX7mlggM/s200/Picture+465.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403692676302268066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Smell is connected to memory isn't it? Did you ever deeply inhale of your new shoes? When I was young we received shoes twice a year and had two pair, one for church and one for school. When Keds came out we were crazy with joy to have play shoes! I quickly worked on my mom to let me wear the tennis shoes everywhere. I hated saddle shoes and loafers. They may have been stylish but it felt like walking in cement, and the heat so much hotter in those clodhoppers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I am digressing a little but not really. It was as a school girl that our parochial school often held book sales for fund raisers. We were allowed to go into the main auditorium where piles of books were laid out on long tables. They were placed by grade level but that never mattered to me. What I was after was the front and back flaps of any book that caught my eye.  Often my parents would buy me everything that I selected, it was so much &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;better&lt;/span&gt; than any holiday. I saved most of these lovely books and left them with my daughter when I moved here. They may be gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  There is nothing to this day that I like more, than to read curled up in a cozy spot and get completely lost in the world between those two covers.  Adversity can be a blessing. I learned to love books when I was young because of profound, undiagnosed near sightedness.  My grades did not suffer from my myopic vision because often during the recess I would go up to the black board and look at what was written. It trained my hearing very well to remember what was said.&lt;br /&gt;When discovered by a routine school screening I could not see the big E on the chart. I had to walk nearly up to the chart to read anything. Mother was naturally horrified and also confused why none of the usual signs had presented.  She asked me how I managed in school and I told her about staying in at recess; it was perfectly logical to me. I hated recess balls and other objects that would periodically come hurtling threw the air and hit me. It was always to late to react by the time I saw them coming.  The world of imagination was much safer and also much more exciting. When driving home with my first pair of glasses on I was amazed that leaves actually grew on trees! Mother wept, and I couldn't understand why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I already knew how to read when I started school. The primary grades were sheer torture. Each time I received a new "reader" I would go home and read it, then try the next day to return it. Those exasperated teachers would try to explain to me that it was a "reader" and I was to use it at school.  The exasperated child would try to explain the book had been read completely and wasn't to good at that. Fun With Dick and Jane were pretty elementary reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I was reading chapter books and had a Junior Classics set. My mother also gave me books of nursery rhymes most of them completely memorized before kindergarten. In spite of being constantly in trouble for talking out of turn, correcting the other children's reading out loud, or getting up from my seat; I didn't lose my love of learning or of reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  When a new copy comes in the mail and I open it, I still feel that bit of flutter and anticipation to see and smell my new book. Is the anticipation because of my enjoying opening the book or enjoying having the book open me?  These authors that we don't actually know but do have a reciprocal relationship with. They present something to us and our minds open to receive or we reject. It is incredible the power of written words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Madeline L'Engle is at the very top of my list right now. I am in love with her writing. I love the way she thinks, talks,  and holds discussions as if we are present in her class, or living room. She imparts such a sense of prescence that it is to imagine you are walking at her side viewing each scene that she takes you to; her world revealed.  A rekindled appreciation for thinking is stirring between the gray matter in my head, and the soul in my being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the "Summer of the Great Grandmother," she is dealing with the severe decline of her mother. Her family spends each year at their country house in New England. Her mother has suffered from dementia for some time, but in this particular summer, just the trip itself sends her off the deep end profoundly. They realize she will never be able to return to her home.&lt;br /&gt;The episodes of fear and outlandish behavior spur Madeline to remember her childhood, her relationships with her parents, and their parents to review her family history back to the civil war. It is an incredible journey, a fantastic marvelous read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Something happened in my own response to her story. I saw great parallels between her people and mine, between her childhood experiences and mine. My grandparents rode on camels in Egypt and so did hers. Her family was well read and knew several foreign languages as did mine. These people who did not consider themselves to be highly educated because they had no degrees; lived very full and interesting lives!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Which made me think of the strong contrast between their lives and those portrayed in,"Brave New World", by Aldous Huxley and "1984", by George Orwell.  The totalitarian government in BNW kept the masses happy with soma and diversions. Games and physical fitness were the chief modes of entertainment and all things "new" celebrated, old things and old people abhorred. I wonder if we have 'soma' now? Would we recognize it if it was in our lives already? What things do we routinely use to "check out" from the world we live in and distress? Zone out, tune out, take a vacation, "a gramme is better than a damn". The government had discovered that keeping people in an infantile state and away from strong feelings enabled  them to be easily controlled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  In "1984", we have "Big Brother:, the benevolent government that will rewrite history and current events to subdue the masses, and again medicate and condition the people so they do not even recognize the servitude that is upon them.  The interesting thing is that in both stories, books are forbidden. Learning is forbidden, it has been replaced by conditioning. Political correctness is of supreme importance, any infractions reported for the greater good of the society as a whole.  Would we even see it?  Isn't it already here? Would we realize if we are conditioned? "I love new clothes", "better to spend than to mend", sounds ominously like a TV commercial to me, but in Brave New World, it was part of the multitude of whispers in the night that the government raised children, were subjected too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  How did I get from grandparents that could speak foreign languages and ride camels to that? I hope you made that jump on your own. In that time there was no TV, no media, no Internet. People were very busy with living independent lives.  independent of government, independent of the mainstream pressure to conform to the status quo.  When you don't have "soma" you live life.  People those few generations ago were very much free Americans and celebrated their freedom by working very hard to better themselves.  My grandparents( legal immigrants by the way) saw the industrial revolution, the invention of the radio, the electric light bulb, indoor plumbing, the motor car, airplanes, and a man that walked on the moon. To name just a few of the milestones in their generation. It was an amazing time to be alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about us? Where do we fit in? Where do you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-1473521618118808370?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/11/lover-of-books.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Sv3F2-5gZqI/AAAAAAAACX0/X1gtX7mlggM/s72-c/Picture+465.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-4321517454333331307</guid><pubDate>Thu, 12 Nov 2009 22:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-12T15:21:44.030-08:00</atom:updated><title>Fall Fest Foto Day in the Country!</title><description>Pretty much as soon as these were turned loose;I hit the ground running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT5qwBkkI/AAAAAAAACXs/tITYdNBGfRo/s1600-h/Picture+395.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT5qwBkkI/AAAAAAAACXs/tITYdNBGfRo/s200/Picture+395.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403356271875297858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So to speak, actually I began standing in front of the stove.&lt;br /&gt;Where I usually spend a lot of time. This home made chicken soup is pretty tasty.&lt;br /&gt;If I don't say so myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT5bF-a1I/AAAAAAAACXk/Q99-WXn1eN8/s1600-h/Picture+391.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT5bF-a1I/AAAAAAAACXk/Q99-WXn1eN8/s200/Picture+391.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403356267672398674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It had been awhile since we had any of this too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT5CQuL9I/AAAAAAAACXc/ujabPhV6isE/s1600-h/Picture+398.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT5CQuL9I/AAAAAAAACXc/ujabPhV6isE/s200/Picture+398.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403356261006585810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The hunny is always up for some of these...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT4z0waFI/AAAAAAAACXU/JjC6onCw-b0/s1600-h/Picture+399.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT4z0waFI/AAAAAAAACXU/JjC6onCw-b0/s200/Picture+399.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403356257131194450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;or his very favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT4hMYABI/AAAAAAAACXM/fF3FXm0RCgQ/s1600-h/Picture+390.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT4hMYABI/AAAAAAAACXM/fF3FXm0RCgQ/s200/Picture+390.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403356252129984530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After getting full of home cooking we decided to take a ride to the country to visit some friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyTCR8gu5I/AAAAAAAACXE/FzoLShXRsmQ/s1600-h/Picture+423.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyTCR8gu5I/AAAAAAAACXE/FzoLShXRsmQ/s200/Picture+423.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403355320323980178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Boys and vines that hang from trees are a match made in heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyTCHqv6RI/AAAAAAAACW8/UfJ08XrOG-A/s1600-h/Picture+411.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyTCHqv6RI/AAAAAAAACW8/UfJ08XrOG-A/s200/Picture+411.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403355317565122834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had a special occasion to make the trip. This little princess is a couple of days old, she is the 6th child in this family but there is plenty of room for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyTB2a-tII/AAAAAAAACW0/xlSL6LPH0lY/s1600-h/Picture+422.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyTB2a-tII/AAAAAAAACW0/xlSL6LPH0lY/s200/Picture+422.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403355312935580802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They have horses on their farm, Kayla wanted to brush them so they had a nice relaxing grooming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyRpgUfpYI/AAAAAAAACWs/8TiK05G8DKU/s1600-h/Picture+419.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyRpgUfpYI/AAAAAAAACWs/8TiK05G8DKU/s200/Picture+419.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403353795174311298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Dad and one of the other daughters were busy doing something here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyRpBjmnzI/AAAAAAAACWk/pI8HIOKPpEQ/s1600-h/Picture+415.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyRpBjmnzI/AAAAAAAACWk/pI8HIOKPpEQ/s200/Picture+415.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403353786916183858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Which involved this kind lady named I-Lean, she has a bum foot but it doesn't slow her down much. A jersey cow, the best milk on the planet comes from such as these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyRo5EmmkI/AAAAAAAACWc/48CTXyrd1_w/s1600-h/Picture+417.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyRo5EmmkI/AAAAAAAACWc/48CTXyrd1_w/s200/Picture+417.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403353784638675522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The oldest has the knack she knows just how to fill up the pails. We were given 2 gallons of milk and about that much in pure cream. I am blessed to overflowing! Just think real butter, sour cream, and ooooohhh that milk!!! My bones are getting stronger just thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQ5mMgxLI/AAAAAAAACWE/sEH-fX9dZ6c/s1600-h/Picture+408.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQ5mMgxLI/AAAAAAAACWE/sEH-fX9dZ6c/s200/Picture+408.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403352972117722290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A family shot of all the children they are a joy to be around they are so well behaved, and they are very happy children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQ5ElEBAI/AAAAAAAACV8/dF3JlbVcNQ0/s1600-h/Picture+407.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQ5ElEBAI/AAAAAAAACV8/dF3JlbVcNQ0/s200/Picture+407.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403352963093890050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We drove all through the country to visit them. It's not far from where we live just 20 mins from me you can be in places that look like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQ43aqcFI/AAAAAAAACV0/6J3n6jwYhn4/s1600-h/Picture+406.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQ43aqcFI/AAAAAAAACV0/6J3n6jwYhn4/s200/Picture+406.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403352959560609874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We stopped by the side of the road to take these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQ4lJtLZI/AAAAAAAACVs/cYccPzBHxLM/s1600-h/Picture+403.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQ4lJtLZI/AAAAAAAACVs/cYccPzBHxLM/s200/Picture+403.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403352954657648018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQ4cs7InI/AAAAAAAACVk/6zjwxzwAAIA/s1600-h/Picture+402.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQ4cs7InI/AAAAAAAACVk/6zjwxzwAAIA/s200/Picture+402.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403352952389444210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQAXeKqYI/AAAAAAAACVc/ax4g74rkf1s/s1600-h/Picture+405.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyQAXeKqYI/AAAAAAAACVc/ax4g74rkf1s/s200/Picture+405.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403351988912695682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyP_9vOPpI/AAAAAAAACVU/il07DkAdX5M/s1600-h/Picture+404.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyP_9vOPpI/AAAAAAAACVU/il07DkAdX5M/s200/Picture+404.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403351982004911762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tried to get this driving and it's blurry but it's my dream place, I think it's for sale. Won't be mine it's more moolah than I have. It is a perfect farm house on  picturesque acreage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyP_iXH-KI/AAAAAAAACVM/zKTAOAPV2o0/s1600-h/Picture+425.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyP_iXH-KI/AAAAAAAACVM/zKTAOAPV2o0/s200/Picture+425.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403351974656080034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the way home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyP_TxIWbI/AAAAAAAACVE/MxnhUhJRciI/s1600-h/Picture+430.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyP_TxIWbI/AAAAAAAACVE/MxnhUhJRciI/s200/Picture+430.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403351970738624946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love it in the town of Flora...or more correctly the countryside of Flora...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyP_HAWfbI/AAAAAAAACU8/eWFb03anrS8/s1600-h/Picture+427.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyP_HAWfbI/AAAAAAAACU8/eWFb03anrS8/s200/Picture+427.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403351967312805298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyPDGWni4I/AAAAAAAACU0/jtZ_Der9dE0/s1600-h/Picture+437.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyPDGWni4I/AAAAAAAACU0/jtZ_Der9dE0/s200/Picture+437.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403350936345611138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the photographer at work...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyPC7UIFfI/AAAAAAAACUs/oAz9RMIzWhw/s1600-h/Picture+438.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyPC7UIFfI/AAAAAAAACUs/oAz9RMIzWhw/s200/Picture+438.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403350933382370802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Somebody has to drive, notice my window? You guessed it perfect weather!!&lt;br /&gt;This time of year we have the best weather in the country!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyPCr3YI-I/AAAAAAAACUk/ZxQFj84KKbs/s1600-h/Picture+442.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyPCr3YI-I/AAAAAAAACUk/ZxQFj84KKbs/s200/Picture+442.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403350929235256290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;More beauty isn't this just a feast for the eyes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyPCdHhFuI/AAAAAAAACUc/a91le-VEj3s/s1600-h/Picture+445.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyPCdHhFuI/AAAAAAAACUc/a91le-VEj3s/s200/Picture+445.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403350925276419810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyPCIZnCNI/AAAAAAAACUU/QZjdsysELw0/s1600-h/Picture+446.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyPCIZnCNI/AAAAAAAACUU/QZjdsysELw0/s200/Picture+446.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403350919715162322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All to soon we turned the corner back to our place. The trees declare the beauty of fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyNDD860uI/AAAAAAAACUE/7IlVLoqzoQI/s1600-h/Picture+461.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyNDD860uI/AAAAAAAACUE/7IlVLoqzoQI/s200/Picture+461.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403348736677696226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyNC9AvpYI/AAAAAAAACT8/UfqI6XAN6-I/s1600-h/Picture+460.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyNC9AvpYI/AAAAAAAACT8/UfqI6XAN6-I/s200/Picture+460.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403348734814692738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;With a little help from my resident teen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyNChb65QI/AAAAAAAACT0/_uIszAs29Jo/s1600-h/Picture+447.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyNChb65QI/AAAAAAAACT0/_uIszAs29Jo/s200/Picture+447.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403348727412483330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are home and the day was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyNChb65QI/AAAAAAAACT0/_uIszAs29Jo/s1600-h/Picture+447.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyNDW3albI/AAAAAAAACUM/Pf6lU3Ua3e8/s1600-h/Picture+462.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyNDW3albI/AAAAAAAACUM/Pf6lU3Ua3e8/s200/Picture+462.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403348741754885554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-4321517454333331307?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/11/fall-fest-foto-day-in-country.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvyT5qwBkkI/AAAAAAAACXs/tITYdNBGfRo/s72-c/Picture+395.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-5510691925242129877</guid><pubDate>Tue, 10 Nov 2009 16:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-10T08:51:25.251-08:00</atom:updated><title>Just Busy or Something....</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvmW5mBi-hI/AAAAAAAACTs/GlxP0ts0-9w/s1600-h/Picture+315.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvmW5mBi-hI/AAAAAAAACTs/GlxP0ts0-9w/s200/Picture+315.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402515144211364370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The phone rang last night and my friend who is also blogger was calling because....I haven't posted. It's so nice to be loved. I have good news, my cast is off. My bones don't feel right but I am not complaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GREAT NEWS about Stellan!! But the news about his leg is not good, pray about that, a very urgent need, and he is sick. What an incredible journey this baby and his family have had!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some ideas to write about for you...if I can get ever get my nose out of the stack of books I have. I am reading, baking, and trying my best not to be on my feet to much.  Yes, this is the boring- est post ever...just touching base to let you know that--I am fine. I am enjoying the ooh so perfect--never lasts long enough--fall weather.  No, my irises are not planted yet, are yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will return.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-5510691925242129877?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/11/just-busy-or-something.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SvmW5mBi-hI/AAAAAAAACTs/GlxP0ts0-9w/s72-c/Picture+315.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>14</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-2880211729307315867</guid><pubDate>Mon, 02 Nov 2009 15:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-02T14:14:18.135-08:00</atom:updated><title>What Would You DO?--Book Review</title><description>Have you ever thought about feet? Aside from how cute they CAN be? At least at the stage of the game they happen to be smoochy and adorable and make us *sigh* just so precious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Su7-jxqZw2I/AAAAAAAACTc/8dyIGwlJTdI/s1600-h/083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Su7-jxqZw2I/AAAAAAAACTc/8dyIGwlJTdI/s200/083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399532893843866466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They are also an important part of being independent. They take you where you want to go and sometimes where you don't. We need them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A popular movie made this saying famous, "Houston we have a problem," everybody knows what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something is wrong and it is probably going to get expensive to figure it out. Peoples bones do not just fracture while walking around, no falls , no twists, no trauma. Except for mine, that is exactly what my bones are doing. It has been confined to the ankles until now, this time the tibia fractured on my leg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Houston, we have a freak out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Su7-jgtIcjI/AAAAAAAACTU/KQGmD5MnHAQ/s1600-h/Picture+385.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Su7-jgtIcjI/AAAAAAAACTU/KQGmD5MnHAQ/s200/Picture+385.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399532889291911730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My prescription; is to go to the library, check out a pile of books and begin. I am supposed to keep my feet up and rest. Sounds good doesn't it? The body however, does not like that much rest, and you would be amazed at the aches that start up from lack of movement. Some rest is not restful. However the books are a welcome diversion! I even tossed in a few classic tomes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Su7-jU4wjfI/AAAAAAAACTM/ESn3QeeguE8/s1600-h/Picture+387.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Su7-jU4wjfI/AAAAAAAACTM/ESn3QeeguE8/s200/Picture+387.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399532886119452146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Let me show you the pile and then tell you about some of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently finished 'A Circle of Quiet', by Madeline l"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Engle&lt;/span&gt; you may know her from "A Wrinkle in Time' she has written 63 books! She was also married to Hugh Franklin the actor who is best known for playing Dr.Tyler on All My Children, a soap opera of long standing.  I have never been a soap opera fan. When you work in hospitals they are on and staff usually can find a minute to go watch and keep up with their stories.  having been exposed, I remember Dr.Tyler, he was about the only character who had real substance. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Crosswick&lt;/span&gt; Journals are autobiographical and a pleasure to read. She discusses learning, ideas, language, music, art and a great deal of discussion about the 70's with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;conclusions&lt;/span&gt; that are timeless in their application; appropriate for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This next story is beautiful, and these two people of high integrity shared 40 years of fidelity and true love.  'A Two Part Invention' is the story of their meeting, courtship, marriage and his death from cancer. It is an amazing, well done book.  Madeline has the ability to draw you into her inner heart and life sharing the most profound feelings; and then giving you just enough distance so you are not completely overwhelmed.  I confess to crying the most as she describes the nurses ability to handle their suffering and the situations they find themselves faced with. Her portrayal of the experience of life threatening illness, is perfectly done. If you are facing a situation like this read the book. If you want to expand your heart, read the book. If you just want to read a good book; read the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A book I did not care for much is 'Julie and Julia'  what the movie is based on. I missed the movie. The book is filled with the f*** word and s** word on every page. So much that it does nothing to the story except cheapen it. Her kitchen is filthy. She writes of a scene where she is seeing spots before her eyes, which wait; are not spots they are flies. The flies are coming from the sink, under her drainboard are maggots...yeah well my stomach flipped too.&lt;br /&gt;This book is really trash. I have heard nothing but rave reviews about the movie. If you saw the movie and liked it please tell me about it. Another surprise is the book has actually very little about Julia Child except for a half dozen letters from her husband and the imaginary part she plays in Julies head. I think the real life Julie Powell has some kind of disorder maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Asperger's&lt;/span&gt;. This woman does not think, she a blanket dislike for Republicans, for Christians, and is in general a modern day bigot. When we fall to a level that we can no longer meet each other and exchange ideas but stereotype and dismiss one another based upon what politics we endorse, we are indeed in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fun novel, a bit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;predictable&lt;/span&gt; and on the tidy side as far as wrapping up a plot; but please enjoy Peter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Mayal's&lt;/span&gt; ' A Vintage Caper.'  I love Peter, the man loves food and wine. He can describe food and wine until you feel like you are eating with him. An unfortunate response is that sometimes the suggestions are so strong I have to eat, hungry or not! The novel is a who&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;dunit&lt;/span&gt; set in France with lovely chateaus and incredible wines. It is fun, just plain fun, and the food....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am working on this book pile. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; chosen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;today's&lt;/span&gt; read yet. in the mean time the house is getting dirty, my room looks like a cyclone hit it, and the pile of routine housekeeping is just piling up. However, I am determined to ignore it. This is not easy for me. I like work. I like to be busy. It is enough work just to get washed up and dressed. Casts are a royal pain in the *** did I say that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one more thing I wanted to share with you. I watched an incredible film. I love most anything that has Nicholas Cage in it. The man really can sing opera, no joke. The film is 'Captain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Corelli's&lt;/span&gt; Mandolin' the setting is a small Greek Island complete with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;stunning&lt;/span&gt; vistas, houses and ocean scenes. The problem is the Nazi occupation. The story is of love, and sacrifice. This film is full of everything literary. There is symbolism, beauty, contrast, poetry, songs, pain, and death. One can spend time afterward just thinking and exploring the many ideas that are put before you. The movie is rated R for some nudity. The nudity however is not offensive it is worked into the film in a powerful way.  You see I am not a prude, but swearing should be reserved to make an effect, and nudity should contribute, not be cheap titillation; at least in my small opinion. The scene is on the beach where the singing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Italian&lt;/span&gt; soldiers, (whose main extent of the war experience has been to form an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;operatic&lt;/span&gt; singing group) are enjoying the day with prostitutes; who frolic in the waves topless. They are taking joy in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;hard times&lt;/span&gt; where they can find it. It did not offend me in the least. I think that scenes where peoples faces are grimacing in what is supposed to be a climax are much more suggestive than the beach scene in this film.  If I was a movie critic I would give this film 5 stars. Yes, my teenagers may watch it, it is a good film and there is much to discuss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you reading? Anything good?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-2880211729307315867?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-would-you-do-book-review.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Su7-jxqZw2I/AAAAAAAACTc/8dyIGwlJTdI/s72-c/083.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>14</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-5736024101265734328</guid><pubDate>Sun, 01 Nov 2009 18:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-01T10:09:35.675-08:00</atom:updated><title>Satire Sunday</title><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Microsoft Sans Serif;font-size:130%;"&gt;I received this in an e mail. It made me laugh, sarcastic laughter, but yes a laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:sans-serif;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Doesn't get any better than this!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://us.mg204.mail.yahoo.com/ya/download?mid=1%5f4711%5fAK8Nw0MAAFbPSuzAcwpzugn1hxM&amp;amp;pid=2&amp;amp;fid=Inbox&amp;amp;inline=1" alt="image001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;Let me get this straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going to pass a &lt;span style="background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1257098822_0"&gt;health care plan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*written by a committee whose head says he doesn't understand it,&lt;br /&gt;*passed by a Congress that hasn't read it, but&lt;span class="Apple-converted-space"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;exempts&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-converted-space"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;themselves from it,&lt;span class="Apple-converted-space"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*signed by a president that also hasn't read it, and who smokes,&lt;span class="Apple-converted-space"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*with funding administered by a treasury chief who didn't pay his taxes,&lt;span class="Apple-converted-space"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*overseen by a &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1257098822_1"&gt;Surgeon General&lt;/span&gt; who is obese, and&lt;br /&gt;*financed by a country that's already broke.&lt;span class="Apple-converted-space"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What could possibly go wrong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-5736024101265734328?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/11/satire-sunday.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-2483992781527942062</guid><pubDate>Sat, 31 Oct 2009 16:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-31T09:51:50.938-07:00</atom:updated><title>Happy Halloween</title><description>I'm dressed for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuxqxVr8NoI/AAAAAAAACTE/N7qgfbZ9xGY/s1600-h/Picture+386.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuxqxVr8NoI/AAAAAAAACTE/N7qgfbZ9xGY/s200/Picture+386.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398807449177962114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuxqxJ_RuNI/AAAAAAAACS8/KbfsAm8H3aU/s1600-h/Picture+385.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuxqxJ_RuNI/AAAAAAAACS8/KbfsAm8H3aU/s200/Picture+385.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398807446037838034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Same old story. Yeah, I can't believe it either, this time my leg broke. But these toenails man they are shiny!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-2483992781527942062?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/10/happy-halloween.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuxqxVr8NoI/AAAAAAAACTE/N7qgfbZ9xGY/s72-c/Picture+386.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>11</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-2369458504960516390</guid><pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2009 16:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-30T10:08:00.066-07:00</atom:updated><title>The State of Things, Gadgets and Gizmos</title><description>In every kitchen I have ever commandeered I have had one of these; the junk drawer. I try very hard when I open it not to really LOOK at it. I just go for whatever may be in there, like a rubber band. This morning I stopped and gazed. The thought occurred to me to just open the trash and dump the whole thing in there. I mean really, what IS all this stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapes of multiple types, candles-( not supposed to be in here)- bag clips- transistor radios, remnants from living in California, you know earthquake country- night lights not is use- bulbs- scissors-yeah stuff all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Susa2ZWeAaI/AAAAAAAACS0/RqkiuDkCrmE/s1600-h/Picture+382.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Susa2ZWeAaI/AAAAAAAACS0/RqkiuDkCrmE/s200/Picture+382.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398438100154057122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For one thing it is a little bit of first aid stuff, and some tools and some gadgets and some gizmos, you know the essential junk of living.  I did not throw the whole kit and kaboodle in the trash. Maybe I should have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did find a small candle that does not go in this drawer. I tossed out some junk like the pens that probably don't have any ink and straightened the rest of the junk up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Susa2P3oBRI/AAAAAAAACSs/fLi1dWc2lBU/s1600-h/Picture+383.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Susa2P3oBRI/AAAAAAAACSs/fLi1dWc2lBU/s200/Picture+383.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398438097608770834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The candle goes in this drawer; cripes it could be a long day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Susa1oJ_HaI/AAAAAAAACSk/-Uw-gfJZHYU/s1600-h/Picture+384.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Susa1oJ_HaI/AAAAAAAACSk/-Uw-gfJZHYU/s200/Picture+384.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398438086948363682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So what are the state of your drawers? It has obviously been awhile since I opened some of mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a job, this is getting bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-2369458504960516390?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/10/state-of-things-gadgets-and-gizmos.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/Susa2ZWeAaI/AAAAAAAACS0/RqkiuDkCrmE/s72-c/Picture+382.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>9</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-8091777851114080628</guid><pubDate>Wed, 28 Oct 2009 16:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-28T09:23:39.254-07:00</atom:updated><title>Anonymous Rocks</title><description>Yesterday I was obviously in the dumps. We all have to work. I was just hoping with the broken feet and bum hip that I could trim enough from our expenses to stay home. Well we tried it and it's not enough.  I want to thank everybody who left a comment yesterday, nobody will ever be able to convince me that bloggers are not one of the most supportive communities in this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a surprise comment from someone who is a mystery. The anonymous comment left us all speechless.  One very talented writer and also someone who could just walk up and basically say, " it's plain as the nose on your face." Amazing. I like the ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you didn't read it here is the comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are a caretaker. Your housekeeping skills are amazing, your interest in nutrition is intense, your experience in the health industry and your ability to discern strengths and weakness is "your gift".&lt;br /&gt;God has prepared you for the work he created you to do, I pray that you recognize that you are intentionally and wonderfully made, and move forward with your many, many, abilities.&lt;br /&gt;Your whole "Blogger Persona" screams "In-Home Assistant". If you could get 5-6 clients who need occasional home care, e.g.: shopping, cleaning, meds, companionship, and just work independently with the main objective of supplementing the income, while providing a wonderful service to someone who needs a hand. Seasonally, you could disinfect homes when a family has had illness. For $$$ amount, you could go in, clean kitchens, bathrooms, change linens, and help a family resume their busy lives. You could do a seasonal cleaning and Christmas setup for the busy family. Never forget, that you live in God's economy, and he knows your needs and your heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK bloggy buddies put your collective genius together and tell me how would I go about starting something like this? An idea has to have a way to be implemented. One of the things I really like to do is 'design and develop'. But to do this a lot of 'outside the box' thinking would have to be done, remember there is no budget to start up a business. Why let a little thing like that, stop a great idea?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What ideas do you have for a business name? How about prices? Advertising on the cheap? What about legal stuff? Can I just hang my shingle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are your creative juices flowing this morning? What say you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-8091777851114080628?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/10/anonymous-rocks.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>16</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-4882318638436268388</guid><pubDate>Tue, 27 Oct 2009 14:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-27T09:03:09.055-07:00</atom:updated><title>Soul Searching</title><description>I have noticed  what I think is a decrease in posting from quite a few of my favorite bloggers. This week I haven't posted either. I have been in a funk. I did not want to talk about the thoughts that are running a muck in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHpstLZVI/AAAAAAAACSY/OzR-f7v8CNg/s1600-h/Picture+341.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHpstLZVI/AAAAAAAACSY/OzR-f7v8CNg/s200/Picture+341.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397291091383510354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is beauty. If I just look for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHpJPScBI/AAAAAAAACSQ/9vo9E8CkmbE/s1600-h/Picture+344.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHpJPScBI/AAAAAAAACSQ/9vo9E8CkmbE/s200/Picture+344.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397291081862901778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is bounty. To be bought for a price or just admired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHoy5_m-I/AAAAAAAACSI/6EzOv_xnYjU/s1600-h/Picture+348.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHoy5_m-I/AAAAAAAACSI/6EzOv_xnYjU/s200/Picture+348.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397291075868007394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There are cute places to have lunch with a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHoSvSfmI/AAAAAAAACSA/VPcUXRtMnRQ/s1600-h/Picture+339.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHoSvSfmI/AAAAAAAACSA/VPcUXRtMnRQ/s200/Picture+339.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397291067233173090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That have adorable atmosphere and also good food. Places that remind me of Santa Cruz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHoEpmrvI/AAAAAAAACR4/2LNAHbRAUSM/s1600-h/Picture+340.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHoEpmrvI/AAAAAAAACR4/2LNAHbRAUSM/s200/Picture+340.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397291063451234034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And there is the reality of what is. Sometimes we have to get our heads out of the clouds and face the music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A budget so inadequate that after the bills get paid (when I say bills I am referring to housing, utilities, and insurance, no others) there is no money for food. The fat has been trimmed, and it is not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is a budget that will not work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My time of being a "domestic artist," is nothing more than a little vacation. My husband told me he did not need a housewife. It was not his intention to hurt my feelings. I can't tell you how much it did hurt. It hurt because I confessed to what I have always wanted to be since I was little. That "thing" that no one wants or needs anymore. The wife, the keeper of hearth and home. I suppose it can be justified if their are children but when the children are grown? Is there not still a house to be made into a home?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much in my heart right now that I don't really know where to start. So many fears, a sense of things slipping through my fingers never to be regained. A sense of loss. Several years ago I studied to take the GRE, a test to go back to school for my Masters degree. I never took the test. Every time I took a practice test in the math I failed it. The vocabulary words were some I didn't even know existed and memory work is not my strong point anymore. After three months of study I just put it aside. Do you ever think about opportunities for things as coming by to be seized or lost? I have always thought that we never run out of possibilities, but I may have been wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am again much older thinking about school. The first hurdel is that same test. I think I would be a good teacher in a college. But then I get filled with doubts and fear. Really? Would anyone want to hear what I have to say? Could I even do it? Could I pass that test? I have never failed anything before, what would it feel like to fail? I am getting older, not elderly but older, that half a century mark. It is harder to keep up with technology, it is harder to keep up period. The world has always moved at a fast pace, but it seems to be in warp speed. More power to the engines Mr. Scott!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In medicine I realized that I am part of the group who is being phased out. With my years of experience a hospital can hire two new grads. I don't practice medicine by the numbers, or the computer, or the most recent studies. I practice by what I see, and I know what I am looking at. Empirical practice, the human in your gut "knowing," the kind of medicine that is being phased out. The truth is, I don't even like the kind of medicine that is practiced now. It's not worth the headache. Nursing is becoming so automated and regulated that we are becoming not much more than medication dispensers and bandage changers. The computer tells us what times to be in what places giving what drugs. The computer gives us our assignment and a "work list," it keeps track of your times. Being on time with the computer is what is reflected on your review. This is because most of the emphasis these days is on timely drug administration, as if that is all a nurse is, as if that is all a nurse does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to come to work and get my assignment and write it down. After report I assessed my patients and after checking my MAR's could plan out my medicines. Some could be given together, or closer and usually I could get everything given without giving one medicine here or there every hour. That way I had time to actually take care of people. When you spend time in your patients room you find things out. Sick people need hands on care. Now it seems like the idea is to spend the least amount of time in the patients room. Some things can be taken care of right then, others need the doctor and that means some phone calls, writing orders, taking them off, etc... all those things take time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New nurses think that I make myself work. They try and tell me if I would "get organized," I could sit on my butt like they do. I bite my tongue. If I went into their patients rooms I could find as much "work" in there. I am from a different time of nursing, a different kind of practice.&lt;br /&gt;It's a fight to practice like that. The stress comes from management that just sees numbers. Numbers and statistical outcomes, studies and legal- cover your ass-protocols, keeping to the the check list. The stress comes from having hospitals run like a business, on a schedule with no room for the human element. I can't do it anymore. I don't want too; and it's all I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to Walmart would you like a cart? I can do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you change your career at my age? I am not old enough or rich enough to retire. I have to work. I cannot afford the luxury of doing what I really love to do which is be a home maker, not if we want to eat. I am fat, I like to eat.  I can eat less but nothing is not a good plan. Our housing situation is pretty cheap, we couldn't rent an apartment for this much. So this is it. I thought I could trim enough from our expenses to stay here, but it won't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could teach maybe. If I could find something to teach. How can I teach nursing, when I hate what it is becoming? Maybe I can, by making them see they have human beings in those sheets. I'm afraid  I would talk a good percentage of them into finding other careers. All of the ones who do it for the money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I teach nutrition when I am fat? No one would listen to me, they listen to the skinny-skinny equals credible. I don't think that all this skinny is healthy. Somewhere in the middle is probably right. Women are getting too thin. We are even wanting our little babies and children to be thin and that is ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could pass the test, what would I teach? That is the biggest 'if' I have ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, with all these thoughts to sort out. I am thinking that I am probably not alone; with thoughts running amuck,"  because you have been quiet too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will leave you with a good thought. No matter how hard things are getting here at home in the good old USA, they are still good.  If we but lift our gazes from our own front door and set them across the seas to lands devastated by famine, or chronic states of poverty, or starvation; we look at our lives full of wealth and can only give thanks for our plenty. The poorest of our poor are still rich here. We live in a land full of every good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live among a people who still value each other. We are still free, perhaps not for much longer; but for now we are still free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now there are still options for us.  The courage will come, it has too, there is no other option.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-4882318638436268388?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/10/soul-searching.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SucHpstLZVI/AAAAAAAACSY/OzR-f7v8CNg/s72-c/Picture+341.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>18</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-4396608515533856648</guid><pubDate>Fri, 23 Oct 2009 15:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-23T15:03:44.364-07:00</atom:updated><title>A Philosophical Morning</title><description>Recently as in the past three or four days I have been in the mood to devour books. Sometimes a book should just be eaten whole in one sitting and truth be told that is my favorite way to read.&lt;br /&gt;Twice during this adventure and in separate books I came across a new word I did not know, "sybarite- one who loves luxury".  The context in which this word appeared did not seem to be in a setting of wanton luxury but of real home life. It spurred my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think of when you think of luxury?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHZ-z2uf6I/AAAAAAAACRw/4nVy_2IK2nc/s1600-h/Picture+343.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHZ-z2uf6I/AAAAAAAACRw/4nVy_2IK2nc/s200/Picture+343.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395833501661429666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A bubble bath without interruption? Some wonderful dish of luscious dark chocolate maybe 70% cacao? Perhaps a fine fabric soft under the hands or a place by the sea?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are your thoughts of what is luxury about things which you don't have or do have?&lt;br /&gt;Are your ideas around places you can go to, or where you find yourself right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts have been on a journey back to something. One finds at the half century mark in life certain freedoms not experienced before. For one thing just living to this point, and acquiring a few strands of silver hair imparts some credibility to ones person. The other wonderful aspect to this time in life is the freedom to become a bit eccentric if one desires. We can blame menopause or any other host of mid life nomenclature that would define these behaviors. Personally, I prefer to label it individual preferences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHYWeUz1MI/AAAAAAAACRg/J3-B_oay1eI/s1600-h/Picture+346.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHYWeUz1MI/AAAAAAAACRg/J3-B_oay1eI/s200/Picture+346.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395831709175633090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my youth I was caught up in the woman's movement and "hippie-ness" as were many, it was the time we lived in. You were completely out of vogue if you had not read Gloria Steinem or attended some small group that discussed "Our Bodies Ourselves." There was a lot of frustration and anger in the world then, women especially were upset. A host if issues were laid out, equal pay for equal work, etc...etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom used to shake her head and say, "it's a man's world." Being young I wasn't sure of any of it, but the angry women seemed to have a passion for their beliefs and for a time I threw my hat in with them. But something happened during that time. I felt adrift and too small in a world that was too large and very scary. I really had no ax to grind. I was not angry. I had not experienced injustice. I found the whole "explore yourself" mentality to be weird and well--just not my cup of tea.  The ideas of liberation were the antithesis of romance. The destruction of home and place. It took me years to sort that out, I was after all choosing to go against the mainstream, to pick up my hat and toss it into the ring of domesticity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being domestic is a calling is it not? Making a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;home&lt;/span&gt; is so much more than scrubbing the toilets and the floors. I wondered what kind of mothers the feminists had. Did these women ever come home to warm cookies and soft hugs? Were they tucked in at night with a story and a kiss?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHYVneSbKI/AAAAAAAACRI/J5gpoI7fuxc/s1600-h/Picture+225.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHYVneSbKI/AAAAAAAACRI/J5gpoI7fuxc/s200/Picture+225.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395831694451436706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My mother gave me a home. I remember tables full of wonderful home made food. I was especially fond of her buttery mashed potatoes and home made custards.   Our house would have never made the cover of a magazine but it was cozy and comfortable. Yes, our toilets often needed a scrubbing but we got around to it, weekly anyway. It seems the new standard of our day is to have bathrooms that are ever ready for a magazine shoot. Not very realistic. We also have huge designer kitchens and then eat in restaurants all too frequently. Everything in the environment of the home has taken on sterility.  The home however was meant to be a fertile place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where am I going?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a journey that I won't finish in one blog post. It's a journey that I have been on for some time. Back to my roots I suppose, at times I think I am becoming my grandmother or a woman like her. I would be quite pleased to be like her, as she was a woman of greatness in my eyes. My grandmother was a matriarch in the real sense, she kept the family and extended family together. She taught us rich hospitality and gave us wonderful get togethers that made the holidays a real celebration. I do not remember many packages or presents but I remember every meal around the damask covered table, with Grandpa ceremonially lighting the candles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The holidays are coming soon. Are you feeling the stress already? Are you going to participate in the madness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I did very little spending. It was a great relief. I enjoyed the season so much more, and I did it by not going to the stores. If I go to the stores I will be swept away. The marketers are much smarter than I am, they seem to know that I needed all these beautiful objects before I ever saw them.  If I don't see, I won't want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHYWv8xohI/AAAAAAAACRo/axapzwon7Sg/s1600-h/Picture+350.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHYWv8xohI/AAAAAAAACRo/axapzwon7Sg/s200/Picture+350.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395831713906663954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The TV has been off now for many months and like the main character in "Brave New World," without the daily dose of soma all of us seem to be waking up, in this house. My thoughts go around ideas of creating things instead of consuming them. I have even been taking a look at my clothes and wondering about making them. If I did, would I have the courage to make what I would REALLY like to wear? Like Mrs. Whaley and her Charleston garden who always wore a blue dress? Would I really like to be a non-conformist? Do I have the courage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHYWCOMOUI/AAAAAAAACRY/EDLYCyjVrwI/s1600-h/Picture+335.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHYWCOMOUI/AAAAAAAACRY/EDLYCyjVrwI/s200/Picture+335.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395831701631678786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about you? What would you REALLY like to do? When is the last time you stopped rushing about long enough to even ask yourself that question?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHYVwt4FPI/AAAAAAAACRQ/R0otZU2MElU/s1600-h/Picture+277.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHYVwt4FPI/AAAAAAAACRQ/R0otZU2MElU/s200/Picture+277.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395831696932738290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Life is too short not to have at least a few of our dreams come true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-4396608515533856648?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/10/philosophical-morning.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuHZ-z2uf6I/AAAAAAAACRw/4nVy_2IK2nc/s72-c/Picture+343.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>9</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-2559413996784096403</guid><pubDate>Thu, 22 Oct 2009 15:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-23T10:18:40.653-07:00</atom:updated><title>Celebrating and Sightseeing</title><description>Yesterday I drank some coffee, dark rich French roast brewed very strong, and it put some zip in my tired bones. I put the cousins in the car and took them to town. Ridgeland Mississippi has some lovely places. One of my favorites is The Gardenworks, a local nursery par excellance, with an overflowing plethora of gorgeousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4utzRXfI/AAAAAAAACP4/d_xRYKgl_7k/s1600-h/Picture+368.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4utzRXfI/AAAAAAAACP4/d_xRYKgl_7k/s200/Picture+368.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395445097553812978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;From any direction you can view plants and arrangements you'd love to have at your own place.&lt;br /&gt;For a fee of course you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4ts-TqfI/AAAAAAAACPg/Om-CAlods48/s1600-h/Picture+370.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4ts-TqfI/AAAAAAAACPg/Om-CAlods48/s200/Picture+370.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395445080151796210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The front entrance, sporting a new, rather colorful paint job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4uMWy5aI/AAAAAAAACPw/0YoH-yIEHo0/s1600-h/Picture+352.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4uMWy5aI/AAAAAAAACPw/0YoH-yIEHo0/s200/Picture+352.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395445088576005538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pumpkins always announce fall and start me baking pies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB52nsFnhI/AAAAAAAACQA/RxL6sW1I3-U/s1600-h/Picture+311.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB52nsFnhI/AAAAAAAACQA/RxL6sW1I3-U/s200/Picture+311.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395446332863651346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sweet potato pies to be precise. The Hunny declared me to be a "real housewife." I haven't been? The man loves pie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB9TbPxEUI/AAAAAAAACQI/gMBHLPIkOWg/s1600-h/Picture+306.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB9TbPxEUI/AAAAAAAACQI/gMBHLPIkOWg/s200/Picture+306.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395450126274728258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These impress him of course, but do not seem to elevate me to the status of a "real housewife."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB9T7PbzII/AAAAAAAACQY/U4GP4qw9WiA/s1600-h/Picture+310.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB9T7PbzII/AAAAAAAACQY/U4GP4qw9WiA/s200/Picture+310.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395450134863268994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The secret to his heart is right here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB9TujPwMI/AAAAAAAACQQ/wCfq3ZiPJSc/s1600-h/Picture+309.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB9TujPwMI/AAAAAAAACQQ/wCfq3ZiPJSc/s200/Picture+309.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395450131456704706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The man loves pie. He eats bread, but he loves pie. He does eat a lot of bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4t0BfrwI/AAAAAAAACPo/1ctmP0BLcxk/s1600-h/Picture+355.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4t0BfrwI/AAAAAAAACPo/1ctmP0BLcxk/s200/Picture+355.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395445082044215042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just a little digression with food, but we are still perusing the nursery. These make ME drool. I would love to have a dozen of these lovely pots. Potted plants require a lot of watering but they are so pretty. Man loves pies, woman loves pots...yep that's about the size of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuCAGOcL4pI/AAAAAAAACQo/HfvzKC7q1-o/s1600-h/Picture+357.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuCAGOcL4pI/AAAAAAAACQo/HfvzKC7q1-o/s200/Picture+357.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395453198033740434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Very cute...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuCAHMLe_SI/AAAAAAAACRA/irxjD4xHIes/s1600-h/Picture+358.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuCAHMLe_SI/AAAAAAAACRA/irxjD4xHIes/s200/Picture+358.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395453214606687522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;yes, definitely pretty...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuCAG8JphLI/AAAAAAAACQ4/q-jmsKvCLqw/s1600-h/Picture+362.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuCAG8JphLI/AAAAAAAACQ4/q-jmsKvCLqw/s200/Picture+362.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395453210304021682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Catching the cousin, catching some shots...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuCAGTdmAsI/AAAAAAAACQw/CNNhWJthGE4/s1600-h/Picture+360.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuCAGTdmAsI/AAAAAAAACQw/CNNhWJthGE4/s200/Picture+360.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395453199381824194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;that could really be inspirational.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4tVnIaqI/AAAAAAAACPY/IF6hH5avnbM/s1600-h/Picture+364.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4tVnIaqI/AAAAAAAACPY/IF6hH5avnbM/s200/Picture+364.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395445073880574626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a quite attractive little arrangement and it inspired me to go home and fix up the area at my back door. In the south everyone walks around to your back door to come in. I have had so few folks come through my front door that I can count them on one hand, and that's in ten years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB3oFp2TKI/AAAAAAAACPQ/7uPTKJzRL30/s1600-h/Picture+366.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB3oFp2TKI/AAAAAAAACPQ/7uPTKJzRL30/s200/Picture+366.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395443884186029218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pansies, somebody should write a song about these happy little flowers.&lt;br /&gt;(Somebody did.. courtesy of Lynne...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. "Little purple pansies dressed in yellow gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Growing in a corner of the garden, old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We are very tiny but we try, try, try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one heart to gladen, you and I."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB3n7UJdGI/AAAAAAAACPI/mVuFM4b1r20/s1600-h/Picture+369.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB3n7UJdGI/AAAAAAAACPI/mVuFM4b1r20/s200/Picture+369.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395443881410655330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another gorgeous pot, what a color!&lt;br /&gt;We also went to some other places that are really cute, some of my favorites. I'll show you that tomorrow.  A cute shop and a very chic restaurant. Speaking of restaurants, we went to a Mexican place last night (birthday girls choice of course) to celebrate Kayla's 19th birthday. One of the cousins mentioned it to our waitress and so she was adorned with the fancy sombrero and sung to with gusto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB3ndyRaCI/AAAAAAAACPA/6VMOfp5P2ig/s1600-h/Picture+381.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB3ndyRaCI/AAAAAAAACPA/6VMOfp5P2ig/s200/Picture+381.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395443873483941922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kissed by her Papa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB3nE-qFYI/AAAAAAAACO4/zYuNneBsuZ0/s1600-h/Picture+380.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB3nE-qFYI/AAAAAAAACO4/zYuNneBsuZ0/s200/Picture+380.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395443866825004418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She loved every minute of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB3m3j82NI/AAAAAAAACOw/5gX9Z-Ci0lg/s1600-h/Picture+378.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB3m3j82NI/AAAAAAAACOw/5gX9Z-Ci0lg/s200/Picture+378.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395443863223326930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy Birthday sweetie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-2559413996784096403?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/10/celebrating-and-sightseeing.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/SuB4utzRXfI/AAAAAAAACP4/d_xRYKgl_7k/s72-c/Picture+368.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>11</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-6868922169022953109</guid><pubDate>Tue, 20 Oct 2009 00:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-19T19:17:31.636-07:00</atom:updated><title>We Have Had a Time!!</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MGZMjKGI/AAAAAAAACOY/0-NqA8ZZHUs/s1600-h/Picture+222.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MGZMjKGI/AAAAAAAACOY/0-NqA8ZZHUs/s200/Picture+222.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394481232641992802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is one adorable baby boy. He is mostly quite engrossed with his mama and nursing but there are the occasional times when he can be cuddled. He is an absolute delight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(These are my new glasses never could get the others to fit right.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MF6KJX2I/AAAAAAAACOQ/hrdVV6UtwnA/s1600-h/Picture+238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MF6KJX2I/AAAAAAAACOQ/hrdVV6UtwnA/s200/Picture+238.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394481224310415202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My grandson the Marine and his new bride. He is a love and they are in love. They are planning a wedding in June next year but got married 4 months ago. Better than living together first don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MFbvvm5I/AAAAAAAACOI/xSN5-eW19S0/s1600-h/Picture+275.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MFbvvm5I/AAAAAAAACOI/xSN5-eW19S0/s200/Picture+275.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394481216146611090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Be still my heart. This little three year old girl has wrapped up my whole heart in her little hands. She has stolen me completely with her precious sweetness. She is a delightful well behaved and incredibly intelligent little girl; not to mention pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MEwJqlfI/AAAAAAAACOA/VHVxGfk5g0U/s1600-h/Picture+280.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MEwJqlfI/AAAAAAAACOA/VHVxGfk5g0U/s200/Picture+280.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394481204444173810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The last day, Papa holding him for just a few more minutes before they left for the airport. We cried, you know we cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MEeTYCbI/AAAAAAAACN4/HJvYa2eXfNw/s1600-h/Picture+235.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MEeTYCbI/AAAAAAAACN4/HJvYa2eXfNw/s200/Picture+235.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394481199653063090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My Hunny and his youngest son and the grandson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0LRK98BgI/AAAAAAAACNw/S4fXd3hGN7s/s1600-h/060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0LRK98BgI/AAAAAAAACNw/S4fXd3hGN7s/s200/060.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394480318289544706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Somebody is being silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0LQvovmxI/AAAAAAAACNo/29oyiWTk5K0/s1600-h/039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0LQvovmxI/AAAAAAAACNo/29oyiWTk5K0/s200/039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394480310952893202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Somebody is being thoughtful and what incredible eyes, they really are that blue!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0LQJqaBgI/AAAAAAAACNg/__9eZ_O9YH0/s1600-h/083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0LQJqaBgI/AAAAAAAACNg/__9eZ_O9YH0/s200/083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394480300759320066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For the footsie lovers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0LPxKcgWI/AAAAAAAACNY/xhS33Re4drU/s1600-h/077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0LPxKcgWI/AAAAAAAACNY/xhS33Re4drU/s200/077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394480294182814050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So much love in such a short time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0LPGQT4ZI/AAAAAAAACNQ/aDiJu0ZpnYg/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0LPGQT4ZI/AAAAAAAACNQ/aDiJu0ZpnYg/s200/033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394480282664690066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We STILL have house guests! The cousins extended their stay by a few days and will go home on Thursday which is Kayla's birthday. You would NOT believe the quantity of groceries that have gone through this house. 20 half gallons of milk alone! I have been cooking cooking cooking. Baking baking baking, washing washing washing, and then falling into bed with a smile. I do admit to being tired now.  I have been reading a lovely book, "The Gentle Art of Domesticity," it is a nice read by a BLOGGER! She is so much more and I am not surprised that she has published this lovely book. What I like about it is her take on those of us who love our homes and the work we do in them as "domestic artists," nice huh? Yeah, I am a bread artist, among other things. It is nice quiet read and pleasant for regrouping. I actually do need a bit of rest and some new inspiration as I have been in the giving mode full throttle for several weeks now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has answered all my prayers for the family reunion and it was a blessed event! There were no cross words, no ugly comments, and everyone truly had a great time.  This house was full of laughter and great times of reminiscing. The photo books came out and funny stories retold.&lt;br /&gt;The time spent with my grandson was beyond any price. He has spent some hard years of growing up,  not remembering the love we once had for him and he has returned. I could hardly contain my self when he looked at me and smiled and said, "I love you Nannie," the little boy was there in the smile of the man.  When the girls were young the three of them were virtually inseparable.  Through circumstances we could not control we stopped  being able to visit him for about 10 years. Restoring his memories and the special times were so healing and it was a great joy to us all! There is hope in those hopeless situations!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed getting to know our daughter in law, she is a very special young woman and an excellent mother. I had a hard time with the kissing thing but understood her concerns. I did steal some kisses on the backs of their heads and other "safe" places but tried to abide by their wishes. We all have to make our way in this life. Someone in her family had passed on an incurable illness to another person and they made a blanket rule. She admits to being a germaphobe but she also is very interested in nutrition and we had a lot of good conversations. She is going to read "Nourishing Traditions" and we talked about baking bread a good bit, it was a very pleasant visit.  She drank whole milk while she was here and her baby plumped out right before our eyes. in one week he got new fat rolls on his little thighs, just so squishy soft and luscious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much to catch up on. I have missed you. I have no idea what has been going on at your blogs. My e mail box had several 100 messages in it. I really have not had time or the space to be on the computer. Even tonight the laughter is floating up the stairs, and I should be down there. But I wanted to come up here and say hello. Since I began blogging I have never had this long of a "break" well fuggeddbout it! I'm done with this break thing!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helllooo Debbie, Jojo, Coffee Man,Heidi, Connie farmlady, Cathy, Kathy, Becky,Becky, Becky, Karen, Susie, Angie, Rosie Kate, Mental mama, Grandma J, Peach, Trish, Chris, Kelly, farmchick, and all of you on my blog roll and any others that pass this way often. I have missed visiting your blogs and that lovely quiet connection into other lives that blesses me in such a unique way. I can't wait to come and visit you, hugs hugs hugs!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-6868922169022953109?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-have-had-time.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/St0MGZMjKGI/AAAAAAAACOY/0-NqA8ZZHUs/s72-c/Picture+222.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>18</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6559227461484344655.post-2218957150970225414</guid><pubDate>Mon, 12 Oct 2009 23:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-12T16:16:39.851-07:00</atom:updated><title>Interupting the Blog Break</title><description>We are having a blast Everybody is great! The big kids the little kids...everything. My heart is just popping with joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/StO3txEyGvI/AAAAAAAACNI/eITEzIvcs8U/s1600-h/102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/StO3txEyGvI/AAAAAAAACNI/eITEzIvcs8U/s200/102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391855175788010226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My littlest granddaughter loves me to the moon. She told me so sitting in my lap outside in the swing. I have stolen kisses, just had too. She is soooo precious. We made bread together this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/StO3tSM647I/AAAAAAAACNA/Tl6rB5T-d3g/s1600-h/098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/StO3tSM647I/AAAAAAAACNA/Tl6rB5T-d3g/s200/098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391855167500641202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She loves to help with everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/StO3tGeayvI/AAAAAAAACM4/eCN5cu55xeM/s1600-h/103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/StO3tGeayvI/AAAAAAAACM4/eCN5cu55xeM/s200/103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391855164352809714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love her so much. I'm going to bawl crocodile tears when they leave. I have brought home a ton of real estate magazines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/StO3sgSF1tI/AAAAAAAACMw/pOoNg66bIk8/s1600-h/101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/StO3sgSF1tI/AAAAAAAACMw/pOoNg66bIk8/s200/101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391855154100557522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Is this adorable or what?  My grandson's new wife is a photographer these are pictures she took. she has taken tons of them and they are all great. Can't wait to show you more! I am still on break but had an opportune moment for a quick little update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come on the weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6559227461484344655-2218957150970225414?l=freshfixins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://freshfixins.blogspot.com/2009/10/interupting-blog-break.html</link><author>kdmcgivney@bellsouth.net (Karen Deborah)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSziZfIwawQ/StO3txEyGvI/AAAAAAAACNI/eITEzIvcs8U/s72-c/102.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>13</thr:total></item></channel></rss>