<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420</id><updated>2011-07-07T18:42:18.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cowgirl...again</title><subtitle type='html'>Muddling through life, one day at a time.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>116</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-5965653728698347301</id><published>2008-09-27T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T11:15:15.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsessive Compulsive</title><summary type='text'>I have been obsessive compulsively checking polls results and news as regards to the presidential election. Have I mentioned I am for MCcain? I don't trust Obama and am adamently against his stance on abortion. I am also obsessed with the financial mess our country is in right now. I want it fixed and fixed yesterday. I want to call and scream just fix it already. But the more I read the more I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/5965653728698347301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=5965653728698347301' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/5965653728698347301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/5965653728698347301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/09/obsessive-compulsive.html' title='Obsessive Compulsive'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-4355883664806197356</id><published>2008-09-19T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T17:06:02.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Day</title><summary type='text'>Today is a better day.  My grandson Tye has been extremely fussy.  Nothing would make him happy.  He is usually calm and good natured.  Brittany had it pegged from the beginning but me being the superior being I am, did not believe her.  The antibiotic he was on was making his stomach hurt.  That was it.  We thought he was sick and took him to the doctor.  He was fine.  His stomach just hurt.  We</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/4355883664806197356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=4355883664806197356' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/4355883664806197356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/4355883664806197356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/09/better-day.html' title='Better Day'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-5869076576143445329</id><published>2008-09-12T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T15:15:42.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Geraldo On A String</title><summary type='text'>I am watching Geraldo Rivero on Fox as the hurricane eye is getting ready to move on land. He is weaving and pitching in the wind. Me and my middle daughter Brittany keep wondering if they have a rope attached to him in case the surge takes him out. He's just standing out there hanging on to a yucca plant. I feel bad for the guy. I am wondering if he is going to be swept away live on tv. He </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/5869076576143445329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=5869076576143445329' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/5869076576143445329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/5869076576143445329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/09/ridin-storm-out.html' title='Geraldo On A String'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-6767029536113987687</id><published>2008-09-12T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T17:51:14.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you ok?</title><summary type='text'>Ike is headed for Galveston and I am hoping and praying that the people who stayed will be ok.  Why? Why? Why would you stay on an island during a hurricane?  Especially when the water is projected to cover most of the island.   I naturally a coward.  I don't think I COULD stay.  I would be having so many panic attacks that I would hyperventilate. They were showing a web cam from a bar in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/6767029536113987687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=6767029536113987687' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/6767029536113987687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/6767029536113987687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/09/are-you-ok.html' title='Are you ok?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-2764049827954288956</id><published>2008-09-06T00:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T00:12:12.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Car Sick</title><summary type='text'>My car has a cold.  It is always upsetting when the car has to go to the doctor.  Especially when you look at the bill.  I am hoping it is nothing major.  The brake lights are just stuck on.  They are just stuck.  One of my neighbors looked at it and said it has a short in it.  How much does it cost to fix shorts?  I have no idea. The good thing about old clunk cars is that they don't have a car </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/2764049827954288956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=2764049827954288956' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/2764049827954288956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/2764049827954288956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/09/car-sick.html' title='Car Sick'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-4125012704185345389</id><published>2008-09-03T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T13:34:37.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Desperately Seeking</title><summary type='text'>What Trey and Tye are looking compulsively at online today.We keep looking and looking and looking and looking at pictures and video's of car washes.</summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAh05GnWAWI&amp;feature=related' title='Desperately Seeking'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/4125012704185345389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=4125012704185345389' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/4125012704185345389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/4125012704185345389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/09/desperately-seeking.html' title='Desperately Seeking'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tFBWXDM3mEs/SL7zYADcBrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UnCN1FUmxw8/s72-c/car-going-through_~1431-201256-01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-672886756754956701</id><published>2008-09-01T18:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T18:37:14.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dodged a Bullet</title><summary type='text'>Only intermittent rain from Gustav. Not even heavy rain. I should be grateful and I am but there is a certain part of me that is disappointed.  All those candles and that bottled water not to mention the weather radio that seems to go off for a coastal county but did not even peep when we had a tornado warning earlier today.It's just as well.  It really would be nasty if the power were off and we</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/672886756754956701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=672886756754956701' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/672886756754956701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/672886756754956701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/09/dodged-bullet.html' title='Dodged a Bullet'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-843115853308180296</id><published>2008-08-30T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T09:16:53.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gustav</title><summary type='text'>Theres a hurricane a brewing. Outside my window today the sun is shining, the birds are singing and all is well.  No hint of the danger to come.  My exhusband is staying on the coast of Mississippi again as he did during Katrina.  However this time he is going to stay and help the Red Cross hand out food and water after the storm.  He is doing extremely well.This time I am stocking up on </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/843115853308180296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=843115853308180296' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/843115853308180296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/843115853308180296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/08/gustav.html' title='Gustav'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-4776279770363447908</id><published>2008-08-24T13:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T13:16:01.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What we looked at today</title><summary type='text'>Today, I spent the greater part of the morning looking at construction vehicles online with Trey one of my 2 grandchildren that live with me.He loves trucks and any type of construction vehicles.  He also loves radio towers and satelites and the list goes on.........</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/4776279770363447908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=4776279770363447908' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/4776279770363447908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/4776279770363447908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-we-looked-at-today.html' title='What we looked at today'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-6063455881465050290</id><published>2008-08-23T10:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T10:21:37.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday</title><summary type='text'>Today is my birthday.  I had forgotten all about it till my daughter Amy called. I am happy.  My life is full.  On birthdays and Mother's Day I am always happy, not because of things but because of people.  Family, my kids.  I am so grateful that I live fairly close to all my kids now and I am extremely grateful for the telephone.  It is my lifeline to their lives.  I feel so blessed.  It erases </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/6063455881465050290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=6063455881465050290' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/6063455881465050290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/6063455881465050290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/08/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-9126347527768755417</id><published>2008-08-19T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T09:27:06.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been away awhile</title><summary type='text'>I just figured out how to get back into my account after forgetting my gmail address.  My originating email address was no longer valid so I couldn't get it that way either. It was very frustrating.  The only help available was for gmail accounts and google would only send information to my old originating email address.   A lot has happened since I blogged last.  I am no longer working or going </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/9126347527768755417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=9126347527768755417' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/9126347527768755417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/9126347527768755417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2008/08/ive-been-away-awhile.html' title='I&apos;ve been away awhile'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-112631912202450871</id><published>2005-09-09T19:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-09T19:25:22.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mississippis Blogging</title><summary type='text'>I am still here.  I have been away for quite a while.  I thought with the hurricane and all I should probably pop back in.  I hope to visit more often.  I live in Jackson, so the hurricane did not affect me much.  Just incoveniences like no power for a few days.  My family a little further "down south" are all fine.  A tree on a house and a sister still without power but other than that, they </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/112631912202450871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=112631912202450871' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/112631912202450871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/112631912202450871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/09/mississippis-blogging.html' title='Mississippis Blogging'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-112010342639728086</id><published>2005-06-29T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T20:50:26.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading Jag Over????:&lt;</title><summary type='text'>I have been very busy and have been neglecting my blog and feeling sorry for myself.  Sigh. Why the endless self pity?  Why???????  Because I have been on a reading jag.  Yep, it always does the trick.  Nothing like wallowing in true crime and mystery novels to get you in a good mood.  I become part of an alternate world that I don't want to leave even when my head is pounding and I know I HAVE </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/112010342639728086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=112010342639728086' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/112010342639728086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/112010342639728086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/06/reading-jag-over.html' title='Reading Jag Over????:&lt;'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111915568866344651</id><published>2005-06-18T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-18T21:34:48.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rectum Stretcher</title><summary type='text'>This was sent to me by a friend.....I do not know the source.Subject: Rectum Stretcher While she was "flying" down the road yesterday (10 miles over the limit), a woman passed over a bridge only to find a cop with a radar gun on the other side lying in wait. The cop pulled her over, walked up to the car, and with that classic patronising smirk we all know and love, asked, "What's your </summary><link rel='related' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/' title='Rectum Stretcher'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111915568866344651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111915568866344651' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111915568866344651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111915568866344651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/06/rectum-stretcher.html' title='Rectum Stretcher'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111785259063806694</id><published>2005-06-03T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-03T19:36:30.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out Tonight</title><summary type='text'>I am a member of a twelve step group.  I have been neglecting these meetings lately.  I was really active in the state I moved from, so meetings in my new state have tended to leave me feeling lonely and lost.  Not tonight.  Tonight I resolved to go not feeling sorry for myself.  And it worked. I need to start getting out and about.  I am a member of this group because I NEED TO BE.  It is </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111785259063806694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111785259063806694' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111785259063806694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111785259063806694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/06/out-tonight.html' title='Out Tonight'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111776499614123703</id><published>2005-06-02T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T19:16:36.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fragment </title><summary type='text'>I thought I saw you tonight, just for an instant.Do you do that too?  Spot fragments from the past.I thought I saw you tonight, but the light betrayed me and the face I saw was a stranger.I thought I saw you tonight, but it was only a memory from a life once lived.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111776499614123703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111776499614123703' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111776499614123703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111776499614123703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/06/fragment.html' title='Fragment '/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111758649512848807</id><published>2005-05-31T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-31T17:41:35.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reader</title><summary type='text'>I have started reading again.  I am an avid reader.  So much so that there are times when I have to detox from books.  Since my test is over and I feel bored, I hit the library.  The library I have been banned from due to overdue books.  It always happens.  I will be diligent and take the books back and then due diligence will disapear and I am back again with a huge fine.Yesterday, out of </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111758649512848807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111758649512848807' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111758649512848807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111758649512848807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/reader.html' title='Reader'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111749044051494719</id><published>2005-05-30T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T15:00:40.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Spy</title><summary type='text'>Is Junior getting a little pudgy?  Is little Janie not quite so "little" these days.  It could be that these "little ones" are smuggling fattening foods to school or horrors of horrors, taking their lunch money and not buying the nutritious meal you have mandated, but sugar coated and fat soaked foods. What to do, what to do.  You beg, plead, whine and moan to no avail.  You advise them of the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111749044051494719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111749044051494719' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111749044051494719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111749044051494719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-spy.html' title='I Spy'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111733819778483891</id><published>2005-05-28T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-28T20:43:17.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Through with Test </title><summary type='text'>After two weeks of studying and one week of classes for a licensing exam, I am back.  I passed my test.  I did not nervous breakdown quite as bad this time.  I actually kind of enjoy the whole study for the test process now.  I need to go to school.  I like it.  I can do it as long as it is not Math related.  I am horrible at Math.  I am a little old to take time off from life to go to school</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111733819778483891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111733819778483891' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111733819778483891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111733819778483891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/through-with-test.html' title='Through with Test '/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111689991651875934</id><published>2005-05-23T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T18:58:36.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tidbits</title><summary type='text'>Class this week and then arghhhhh another test.  This was sent to me by a friend, I do not know the source.THINGS YOU MAY OR MAY NOT KNOW (??) 1. Money isn't made out of paper,it's made out of cotton. 2. The Declaration of Independence waswritten on hemp paper. 3. The dot over the letter i is called a "tittle". 4. A raisin dropped in a glass of fresh champagnewill bounce up and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111689991651875934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111689991651875934' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111689991651875934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111689991651875934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/tidbits.html' title='Tidbits'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111646241969174227</id><published>2005-05-18T17:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T17:26:59.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>English Language</title><summary type='text'>One of those eternal emails floating around.  A friend sent me this, I do not know the source.  WHY ENGLISH IS SUCH A HARD LANGUAGEReasons why the English language is so hard to learn: 1) The bandage was wound around the wound.  2) The  farm was used to produce produce.  3) The dump was so full that it had  to refuse more refuse. 4) We must polish the Polish  furniture. 5) He could</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111646241969174227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111646241969174227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111646241969174227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111646241969174227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/english-language.html' title='English Language'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111620412542984198</id><published>2005-05-15T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-15T17:42:05.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home again</title><summary type='text'>I was out of town for a couple of days.  So good to be back home.  I realized that I do not relax enough.  I do not take the time to have fun and lighten up.  It has been pretty heavy, moving back "home" after being away almost 20 years.  It is strange too, because my parents have both passed away.  They are not here. I have been coping with their deaths for really the first time.  My mother </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111620412542984198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111620412542984198' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111620412542984198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111620412542984198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/home-again.html' title='Home again'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111594663026852517</id><published>2005-05-12T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T18:10:30.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The "Good Old Days"</title><summary type='text'>A friend emailed me this.  I do not know the source.TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the1930's 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's !!First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us.They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.Then after that trauma, our baby cribs were covered with bright colored lead-based </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111594663026852517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111594663026852517' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111594663026852517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111594663026852517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/good-old-days.html' title='The &quot;Good Old Days&quot;'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111577403256111261</id><published>2005-05-10T18:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T18:13:52.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Runaway Bride Run Amuck?</title><summary type='text'>Remember the Runaway Bride?  Since her "recovery from captivity" some interesting facts have come out about her.  This was not her first alter avoidance.  She didn't show for a previous marriage ceremony as well.  She also has been arrested for shoplifting three times.  There has been some speculation by mental health experts that she could be have a borderline personality disorder, which means </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111577403256111261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111577403256111261' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111577403256111261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111577403256111261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/runaway-bride-run-amuck.html' title='Runaway Bride Run Amuck?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111577463929173729</id><published>2005-05-10T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T18:23:59.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cat Update</title><summary type='text'>When we got rid of Brink the cat, he went to one of those organizations of cat lovers that find foster homes for needy cats until they can be adopted.  I have an update.Brink has been adopted.  He has a permanent home. The say he is "sweet". Cough...Cough....  They of course think we are horrible because there were a few lingering hair balls....sigh. I am not surprised.  He is an absolutely </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111577463929173729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111577463929173729' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111577463929173729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111577463929173729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/cat-update.html' title='Cat Update'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111551980569403082</id><published>2005-05-07T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-07T19:36:45.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Know If I'm Happy, I Don't Know If I'm Sad.....</title><summary type='text'>The cat is officially gone.  I called and left a message to check up on him.  I know he will be happier.  Tonight, when I was cleaning the kitchen, I felt a surge of hope.  I felt that for once, I could clean without thinking defeatest thoughts about how it would just get messed up again.  (A totally irrational thought since the cat never messed up the kitchen, just deposited hair on everything</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111551980569403082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111551980569403082' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111551980569403082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111551980569403082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-dont-know-if-im-happy-i-dont-know-if.html' title='I Don&apos;t Know If I&apos;m Happy, I Don&apos;t Know If I&apos;m Sad.....'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111550591204586411</id><published>2005-05-07T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-07T15:45:12.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What then shall we eat?</title><summary type='text'>This was emailed to me by a friend....I do not know the source.Can't eat Beef, Mad cow Can't eat chicken . bird flu  Can't eat eggs ... Salmonella  Can't eat pork ... fears that bird flu will infect piggies Can't eat fish ... heavy metals in the waters has poisoned their meat  Can't eat fruits and veggies .. insecticides and herbicides Hmmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!! M M M M M I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111550591204586411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111550591204586411' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111550591204586411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111550591204586411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/what-then-shall-we-eat.html' title='What then shall we eat?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111543754091928981</id><published>2005-05-06T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-06T20:45:41.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Turn the Page</title><summary type='text'>The next 7 days will be a benchmark in the lives of 3 of my children.  One will be graduating from college, the other from highschool.  My youngest child will be turning 16.  It will also be a new chapter for me and the cat.  As of tomorrow, I will be cat-less and the cat will be me-less.  I think he will be better off.  I am sad.  Me and that cat have gone thru alot.  Was it the "treasures" </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111543754091928981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111543754091928981' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111543754091928981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111543754091928981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/turn-page.html' title='Turn the Page'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111517140266604237</id><published>2005-05-03T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-03T18:50:02.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tearing up the Computer</title><summary type='text'>Have you ever gone thru your computer and just deleted things?  I know better.  I have torn up a computer in my time.  I was so notorious for my computer snafoos, the last new computer my exhusband I bought before the divorce was largely off limits to me.  I was forbidden to download anything or delete anything the prevailing wisdom in our household was that it might would be better if I just did</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111517140266604237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111517140266604237' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111517140266604237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111517140266604237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/05/tearing-up-computer.html' title='Tearing up the Computer'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111491564303883506</id><published>2005-04-30T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-30T19:47:23.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Get a Life</title><summary type='text'>I have now been back in my home state of MS for a little over 9 months.  I have adjusted now somewhat and not experiencing as much the culture shock that always occurs with a move from one region to another.    I have not lived close to extended family for any real period of time about 20 years.  That means holidays were spent either traveling back home or were somewhat lonely times.  My </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111491564303883506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111491564303883506' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111491564303883506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111491564303883506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/get-life.html' title='Get a Life'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111491397708194013</id><published>2005-04-30T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-30T19:19:37.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Study makes Perfect</title><summary type='text'> I will be getting another license at work.  This one will enable me to earn commission on top of my base salary.  This is the step I have been waiting for.  That is the good news.  The bad news is that I will now be studying for a couple of weeks AGAIN for another test.  However, this time WILL BE DIFFERENT.  I WILL NOT BECOME OBSESSED WITH GETTING A PERFECT GRADE.  I WILL NOT ATTEMPT TO </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111491397708194013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111491397708194013' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111491397708194013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111491397708194013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/study-makes-perfect.html' title='Study makes Perfect'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111491295547873155</id><published>2005-04-30T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-30T19:07:31.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do It Yourself</title><summary type='text'>I love to repair things and redecorate but am frequently lazy.  Plus I don't have the knowledge to back up that desire most of the time.  I found a useful link sponsored by Lowes that promises to tell you how to do almost anything from antiqueing furniture to building a deck.  It includes product demos and does not take long to load.Do you need to replace your garbage disposal? Or replace a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111491295547873155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111491295547873155' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111491295547873155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111491295547873155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/do-it-yourself.html' title='Do It Yourself'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111473758241224665</id><published>2005-04-28T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-28T18:19:42.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reprieve</title><summary type='text'>Put down newspapers in the general area my hideous cat has decided,  out of the blue, after being litter trained for 6 years, to use as his personal WASTELAND.  And knock on wood, keep your fingers crossed, this seems to have cured him.  I hope so, I have been wanting to hire a cat hitman.  </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111473758241224665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111473758241224665' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111473758241224665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111473758241224665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/reprieve.html' title='Reprieve'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111456737368011855</id><published>2005-04-26T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-26T19:07:03.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eaten by Mozilla</title><summary type='text'>I went to my blog tonight to read comments and I noticed that my picture wasn't showing up.  (The main reason, truth be told, that it is not a WHOLE picture?  I want to remain somewhat anonymous just in case I ever get brave enough to post something absolutely hideous about work.  I don't think I will get that brave though.  I have identified myself pretty well)  At first I thought flicker had </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111456737368011855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111456737368011855' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111456737368011855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111456737368011855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/eaten-by-mozilla.html' title='Eaten by Mozilla'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111431038686419030</id><published>2005-04-23T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-23T19:39:46.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Test Result</title><summary type='text'>I said I would be away awhile and I was.  Now I am back.  I am very happy to announced that I PASSED MY TEST!  I almost had a mini nervous breakdown studying for the thing, had a cold the whole week, and went to take the test with my head feeling like a balloon.  Passing the test means I get licensed and get a raise at work.  I will have to take ANOTHER test in about a month, but it should not </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111431038686419030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111431038686419030' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111431038686419030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111431038686419030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/test-result.html' title='Test Result'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111348077576235805</id><published>2005-04-14T05:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T05:12:55.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blonde Joke</title><summary type='text'>Nice to see the tables turnedAn Irishman, a Mexican, and a Blonde Guy were doing construction work onscaffolding on the 20th floor of a building. They were eating lunch and theIrishman said, "Corned Beef and Cabbage!  If I get Corned Beef and Cabbageone more time for lunch, I'm going to jump off this building."The Mexican opened his lunch box and exclaimed, "Burritos again! If I get</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111348077576235805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111348077576235805' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111348077576235805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111348077576235805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/blonde-joke.html' title='Blonde Joke'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111310770369944337</id><published>2005-04-09T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-09T21:35:03.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing.....</title><summary type='text'>I said I wouldn't be doing personal posts much for the next couple of weeks.  I might have lied....I am not sure.I try not to post melancholy things for the most part.  But tonight I am compelled to say that tonight, I miss my dad.  He died a couple of years ago.  I was at my married daughter's house tonight and they told a funny story about my dad and the pain came back in a blinding flash.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111310770369944337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111310770369944337' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111310770369944337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111310770369944337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/missing.html' title='Missing.....'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111310606601931139</id><published>2005-04-09T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-09T21:07:46.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Drugs for Women</title><summary type='text'>This was sent to me by a friend.....I do not know the source.New Drugs For Women&gt;&gt;D A M N I T O L&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~&gt;Take 2 and the rest of the world can go to hell for up to 8&gt;full hours.&gt;`````````````````````````````````````````````````````&gt;ST. M O M M A'S W O R T&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&gt;Plant extract that treats mom's depression by rendering&gt;preschoolers unconscious for up to two days.&gt;``</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111310606601931139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111310606601931139' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111310606601931139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111310606601931139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/new-drugs-for-women.html' title='New Drugs for Women'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111291949379877073</id><published>2005-04-07T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-07T17:18:13.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Speeding........</title><summary type='text'>I will be mostly absent for the next 2 weeks, I am studying for a test to be  licensed for my job.  Horrendous, horrible test. I have a friend named Sharon who never fails to send me great email. The following post is from an email she sent me.  I do not know the source.State TrooperA senior citizen in Florida bought a brand new Mercedes convertible. He took off down the road, flooring it to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111291949379877073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111291949379877073' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111291949379877073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111291949379877073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/speeding.html' title='Speeding........'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111283628901934589</id><published>2005-04-06T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T18:11:29.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cats</title><summary type='text'>A friend emailed this, I do not know the source.Cat Lover or Not, this is hysterical! We've all had trouble with our animals, but I don't think anyone can top this one: Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying. On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111283628901934589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111283628901934589' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111283628901934589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111283628901934589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/cats.html' title='Cats'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111248203053285348</id><published>2005-04-02T14:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T14:47:10.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Language of Women</title><summary type='text'>A freind emailed me this, I do not know the source.  DICTIONARY FOR WOMEN'S PERSONAL  ADS:   40-ISH.......................................49   Adventurous.................Slept  with everyone   Athletic................................No  breasts   Average  looking....................Ugly   Beautiful.....................Pathological  liar   Contagious Smile..........Does a lot of  pills</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111248203053285348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111248203053285348' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111248203053285348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111248203053285348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/04/language-of-women.html' title='The Language of Women'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111224524355163654</id><published>2005-03-30T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-31T05:06:19.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scouting in the Woods</title><summary type='text'>My little brother was a boy scout for a short period of time.  He only went to a couple of camp outs.  My mother boycotted the Boy Scout idea after the last camp out he attended.  He came home full of stories of massive wedgie attacks (not minor wedgies but horrendous stretch your underwear up somewhere maybe on your head? I don't remember where and I don't have a point of reference not being </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111224524355163654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111224524355163654' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111224524355163654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111224524355163654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/scouting-in-woods.html' title='Scouting in the Woods'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111189025538315717</id><published>2005-03-26T18:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-26T18:24:15.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Sunrise</title><summary type='text'>.flickr-photo { border: solid 1px #000000; }.flickr-frame {	float: right; text-align: center; margin-left: 15px; margin-bottom: 15px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }				dogwood, originally uploaded by E_llie.	 "He is not here: for he is risen, as he said."Matt 28:6Happy Easter!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111189025538315717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111189025538315717' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111189025538315717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111189025538315717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/easter-sunrise.html' title='Easter Sunrise'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111172739620748124</id><published>2005-03-24T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-24T21:09:56.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finger Food</title><summary type='text'>I wish, I wish, I wish I had more hours in my day to blog.  So many great stories out there, so little time.  Woman gets more than a mouthful when she took a bite of her chili in  a San Jose Wendy's earlier this week.  She was eating her chili when she bit into something unusual.  She promptly spit out the offending food and discovered to her horror, she had bitten into a human finger complete </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111172739620748124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111172739620748124' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111172739620748124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111172739620748124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/finger-food.html' title='Finger Food'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111156821299932705</id><published>2005-03-23T00:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T00:56:53.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eureka Moment in the Middle of the Night</title><summary type='text'>Have you ever woke up in the middle of the night and realized you did something extremely stupid?  I did tonight. (today, it is 2:30am my time)  My stupid cat woke me up like he always does, and I was restlessly trying to go back to sleep rehashing things at work, etc.  I had a what if thought.  Then in horror, I went rushing to my purse to see if my what if was a reality.  It was.I have 2 </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111156821299932705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111156821299932705' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111156821299932705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111156821299932705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/eureka-moment-in-middle-of-night.html' title='Eureka Moment in the Middle of the Night'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111146225312490528</id><published>2005-03-21T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-21T19:30:53.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stormy Weather</title><summary type='text'>It is supposed to storm here after midnight.  I could be severe.  I hate bad weather.  One of the things I liked about living in Arizona was that you really did not have to worry about bad weather.  Sure it rained from time to time, and we had really spectacular dirt storms, but it was nothing to really worry about.  (unless you had a really bad dirt storm that obscured vision while driving, a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111146225312490528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111146225312490528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111146225312490528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111146225312490528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/stormy-weather.html' title='Stormy Weather'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111145985052769987</id><published>2005-03-21T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-21T18:50:50.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Professional thong swipers</title><summary type='text'>Officers in Fairfield, Conn.  are probably like policemen everywhere, prepared for almost anything, especially danger during routine traffic stops.I doubt they were prepared for the 220 pairs of thong underwear they found in Monica Barbosa and Anparo Cruz's car after their car ran a redlight.  It is true that there were other articles of clothing found in the car, but I the thongs got the most </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111145985052769987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111145985052769987' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111145985052769987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111145985052769987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/professional-thong-swipers.html' title='Professional thong swipers'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111094425687477083</id><published>2005-03-15T19:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T19:37:36.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Art of Catastrophizing</title><summary type='text'>I am prone to anxiety attacks.  My anxious state is an inherited one. (or is it learned?)  My mother would catatrophise and sometimes share her thoughts with me.  I try to remember her hysteria when I am having my own hysterical moments.  Unfortunately, knowing you are being irrational does not always change the irrational thinking process.  It helps to take deep breaths and to make a phone call.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111094425687477083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111094425687477083' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111094425687477083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111094425687477083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/art-of-catastrophizing.html' title='The Art of Catastrophizing'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111077196201410963</id><published>2005-03-13T19:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T19:46:02.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Does She or Doesn't She</title><summary type='text'>I am indebted to my mother in so many ways. She was a wonderful person and I owe my sense of right and wrong and "class" to her and my Grandmothers.    She could be a bit hysterical in her mothering philosophy. When I was very small, I remember fervently believing if you said "damn" or "hell" (the extent of my cussing vocabulary) 10 times, you would be struck by lightning sent from above.  You </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111077196201410963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111077196201410963' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111077196201410963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111077196201410963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/does-she-or-doesnt-she.html' title='Does She or Doesn&apos;t She'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111059385639766840</id><published>2005-03-11T18:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-11T18:17:36.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommy Dearest</title><summary type='text'>.flickr-photo { border: solid 1px #000000; }.flickr-frame {	float: right; text-align: center; margin-left: 15px; margin-bottom: 15px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }				Mommy Dearest, originally uploaded by E_llie.	Police in Instanbul Turkey have arrested a man posing as his dead mother to collect her retirement check.He showed up at a bank, dressed in womans clothes </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111059385639766840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111059385639766840' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111059385639766840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111059385639766840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/mommy-dearest.html' title='Mommy Dearest'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111042719729056243</id><published>2005-03-09T19:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T19:59:57.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cruising the Friendlys </title><summary type='text'>My oldest sister flew to Seattle yesterday, just in time for the latest Mt St. Helens eruption.  I hope the volcanic activity did not increase turbulence.  I have 2 sisters that are a little sensitive to airplane travel, though I must say she is the bravest by far.  I tend to be a basket case when flying and eat Ativan like candy before and during the flight.  (I take one about 30 minutes </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111042719729056243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111042719729056243' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111042719729056243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111042719729056243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/cruising-friendlys.html' title='Cruising the Friendlys '/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-111006823144099850</id><published>2005-03-05T16:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-05T19:56:14.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Monkey</title><summary type='text'>When I was a child, I asked my mother for a monkey.  I wanted one as a pet.  We already had pets and there didn't really seem to be a limit on them.  I thought a monkey was a wonderful choice.  They were so cute on tv in their little diapers and they would swing around eating bananas and kissing their owners.  I thought it would be like having a baby sister or brother.  My mother quickly </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/111006823144099850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=111006823144099850' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111006823144099850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/111006823144099850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/bad-monkey.html' title='Bad Monkey'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110973209426101637</id><published>2005-03-01T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T18:54:54.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Green Day</title><summary type='text'>I started my new job today.  The drive was relativley uneventfull though kind of long.  It would have been shorter if I had not GONE THE WRONG WAY.  Thankfully discovered my error before too many miles had passed and I arrived on time, 15 minutes early as instructed by my new boss.  I pulled into a deserted parking lot right before reaching my destination to smoke really quickly, in an upwind </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110973209426101637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110973209426101637' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110973209426101637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110973209426101637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/03/green-day.html' title='Green Day'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110973028200663693</id><published>2005-02-28T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T18:24:42.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Gypsy Dentists"</title><summary type='text'>When I lived in Arizona, a few months before I moved, I went to the dentist with a tooth-ache. Dentists seemed to have changed recently. Where they used to just patch me up, now I feel like I am at a used car lot whenever I go to a new one. They want to "give me an estimate" on all the dental work I can have done. When they want to "give you an estimate" it means you have DENTAL INSURANCE. It </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110973028200663693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110973028200663693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110973028200663693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110973028200663693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/gypsy-dentists.html' title='&quot;Gypsy Dentists&quot;'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110904204750954770</id><published>2005-02-21T19:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-21T19:14:07.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lysol Lessons</title><summary type='text'>I had a friend who woke up once to find his clean freak mother - about to spray his feet with Lysol.  This story is a little like that except there is a teacher involved.  Speaking of teachers, I wonder if it is not too late to sue Mrs. Richardson. (If you are out there, Mrs Richardson, you were a lousy teacher) The evil teacher that spanked me because I showed up to math class in the 4th grade</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110904204750954770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110904204750954770' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110904204750954770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110904204750954770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/lysol-lessons.html' title='Lysol Lessons'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110895896215364303</id><published>2005-02-20T20:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T20:09:22.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Presidents Day: Presidential Trivia</title><summary type='text'>Did you know that 2 of our Presidents owned beer breweries? Or that one President was arrested while in office for running over a woman with a horse?  For the answers to these and many other presidential trivia questions, click here.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110895896215364303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110895896215364303' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110895896215364303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110895896215364303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/presidents-day-presidential-trivia.html' title='Presidents Day: Presidential Trivia'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110895356596349884</id><published>2005-02-20T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T19:10:29.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anybody Want a Cat?</title><summary type='text'>My mother loved animals. She was not allowed to have pets as a child and had suffered some unamed pet tragedy. There was a sense of comedy in her love because, she was not above chasing a dog or cat thru the room with a broom shrieking because of some offense committed.When I was small and before we moved to town, there was a dirt road a few miles from our house. Down this road lived a lady who </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110895356596349884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110895356596349884' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110895356596349884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110895356596349884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/anybody-want-cat.html' title='Anybody Want a Cat?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110887839850111466</id><published>2005-02-19T21:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-19T21:46:38.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pass this on to 10 people within 5 minutes and you will be never die, and your children will be beautiful and it will prove you love God .............</title><summary type='text'>I hate chain mail.  I appreciate the people who send it to me and know they are well intending.  The letters usually start out with some positive, uplifting message.  I appreciate that part.  What I hate is the invariable end.  Send this message within 30 minutes to be blessed or if you care, or love God enough or have faith, send this message to 10 friends.  I got one today and it started out </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110887839850111466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110887839850111466' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110887839850111466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110887839850111466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/pass-this-on-to-10-people-within-5.html' title='Pass this on to 10 people within 5 minutes and you will be never die, and your children will be beautiful and it will prove you love God .............'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110878107695976692</id><published>2005-02-18T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-18T18:44:36.960-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You'll know your living in 2005 when.......</title><summary type='text'>My friend Sharon in Arizona sent me this in an email.  I do not know the source.1. You accidentally enter your password on the microwave.2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110878107695976692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110878107695976692' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110878107695976692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110878107695976692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/youll-know-your-living-in-2005-when.html' title='You&apos;ll know your living in 2005 when.......'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110852162193183150</id><published>2005-02-15T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T18:40:21.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fried Green Tomatoes and Steel Magnolias</title><summary type='text'>Two of my favorite movies of all time are about strong women in the South.  The movies?  "Fried Green Tomatoes", and "Steel Magnolias", both released in the late 80's.  Comedic dramas about women overcoming adversity, survival, and being a strong person.  A Steel Tomato I am not.  I resemble a wilted daisey and had never even tried fried green tomatoes until after I saw the movie.  I am not </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110852162193183150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110852162193183150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110852162193183150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110852162193183150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/fried-green-tomatoes-and-steel.html' title='Fried Green Tomatoes and Steel Magnolias'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110826805938329739</id><published>2005-02-12T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-12T20:14:19.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mold Madness</title><summary type='text'>I have a dear friend who has a relative who has suffered from mold madness.  I am not making light of his condition. My mother who was extremely intelligent would go on and on about the evils of mold.  My friends relative got more than just a runny nose from this evil growth, he became moldersized.  He has very calmly announced on more than one occasion, that his drinking problem, inability to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110826805938329739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110826805938329739' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110826805938329739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110826805938329739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/mold-madness.html' title='Mold Madness'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110826665113241259</id><published>2005-02-12T19:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-12T19:50:51.133-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flowers for Valentines Day?</title><summary type='text'>Ever wondered what meanings are associated with certain flowers?  This could be helpful if you are giving or hoping to get flowers for Valentines Day.  Red Roses - Love and desirePink Roses - HappinessWhite Roses - Charm and innocenceRed and White Roses combined - UnityHyacinth - JoyGeranium -PreferenceWhite Chrysanthemum - Truth Red Chrysanthemum - I love you Violet - Faithfulness </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110826665113241259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110826665113241259' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110826665113241259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110826665113241259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/flowers-for-valentines-day.html' title='Flowers for Valentines Day?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110808934292735933</id><published>2005-02-10T18:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T18:35:42.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Attack Fifi Attack!</title><summary type='text'>Deputy Scott Howden tried to stop Girlamo Marinello after he ran a stop sign.  Marinello awarded the deputy by ramming his vehilce into the police car.  He then got out and started swinging his 4 pound poodle "Baby" at the deputy.  (around and around or side ways or towards him?  What? I need a video)  Was he ordering the poodle to attack the deputy (sick him Fifi)?  Was he using the poodle as </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110808934292735933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110808934292735933' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110808934292735933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110808934292735933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/attack-fifi-attack.html' title='Attack Fifi Attack!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110808795582987845</id><published>2005-02-10T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T18:12:35.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Juice Abuse?</title><summary type='text'>My mother was one of the most intelligent people I have ever known.  She KNEW things.  She did not watch a lot of tv.  She did read a lot of books.  She told me this about juice and babies.......They are 100 percent sugar," Dr. David Ludwig, an expert on pediatric obesity at Children's Hospital Boston, said recently. "Juice is only minimally better than soda." advertisement    </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110808795582987845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110808795582987845' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110808795582987845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110808795582987845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/juice-abuse.html' title='Juice Abuse?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110791751098600553</id><published>2005-02-08T18:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-08T18:51:50.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whooshing From the Bench</title><summary type='text'>Excuse me, your Honor, but your robes are whooshing.  OKLAHOMA CITY - Jurors and others in Judge Donald Thompson's courtroom kept hearing a strange whooshing noise, like a bicycle pump or maybe a blood pressure cuff. During one trial, Thompson seemed so distracted that some jurors thought he was playing a hand-held video game or tying fly-fishing lures behind the bench.The explanation, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110791751098600553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110791751098600553' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110791751098600553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110791751098600553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/whooshing-from-bench.html' title='Whooshing From the Bench'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110783327796919644</id><published>2005-02-07T19:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T18:39:29.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On Being Female</title><summary type='text'>My friend Sharon in Arizona forwarded this to me in an email.  I do not know the source.It is good to be a  woman:  1.   We got off the Titanic first. 2.   We can scare male bosses with the mysterious gynecological disorder excuses. 3.   Taxis stop for us. 4.   We don't look like a frog in a blender when dancing.  5.   No fashion faux pas we make, could ever rival the Speedo.  6.   We don't have </summary><link rel='related' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/' title='On Being Female'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110783327796919644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110783327796919644' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110783327796919644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110783327796919644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/on-being-female.html' title='On Being Female'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110774541347772040</id><published>2005-02-06T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T19:03:33.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Glade Plug-in Fire</title><summary type='text'>Do you remember hearing Glade plugins could cause fires?  How about the man that freed himself from an avalanche by peeing himself out. (sadly, I used that story)  Did you see the Tsunamie pictures where crowds appeared to be watching the wave come in with cameras in hand, not running until the last minute?  How about that email that claimed Starbucks was refusing to send free coffee to GIs in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110774541347772040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110774541347772040' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110774541347772040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110774541347772040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/glade-plug-in-fire.html' title='Glade Plug-in Fire'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110731487168596276</id><published>2005-02-01T19:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-01T19:27:51.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 Signs Your Boss is Spying on You</title><summary type='text'>I will not, WILL NOT blog about work.  I have a friend who sends me emails about co-workers that are hilarious.  She shall of course, remain forever nameless.  There was the fragmented, disjointed one about how she exchanged her camera phone for a regular one because she was spotted by another co-worker taking a picture of a male co-worker's butt.  (I think she was trying to hide the evidence?)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110731487168596276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110731487168596276' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110731487168596276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110731487168596276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/02/top-10-signs-your-boss-is-spying-on.html' title='Top 10 Signs Your Boss is Spying on You'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110705058000673827</id><published>2005-01-29T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T18:03:00.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi Elaine.</title><summary type='text'>Jacksonvile, FL Tuesday afternoon, a message was left on Elaine Brown, President of the City Council's, voicemail.  The message started out normally enough with "Hi, Elaine.  The caller then went on to tell "Elaine" what he would do it the Superbowl was held in Jacksonville.  He told her he was a scientist obsessed with the Big Bang theory and with the size it needs to be.  He stated that </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110705058000673827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110705058000673827' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110705058000673827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110705058000673827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/hi-elaine.html' title='Hi Elaine.'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110678541884006374</id><published>2005-01-26T16:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-26T16:23:38.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PMS Contagious?   </title><summary type='text'>Medical News Today recently surveyed men and women about PMS. 6% felt that PMS was contagious.  Contagious? I wonder.  I bet the 6% were all male.  Did some of the men surveyed feel PMS was contagious because they were  breaking out in their own rage attacks over perceived slights at "that time of the month".  Or perhaps a household of females were all PMSing at the same time, leading the poor </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110678541884006374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110678541884006374' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110678541884006374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110678541884006374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/pms-contagious.html' title='PMS Contagious?   '/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110669913044643137</id><published>2005-01-25T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-25T16:25:30.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 List of Worst Valentines Day Gifts</title><summary type='text'>A (most probably flawed survey) was taken by a jewelry company.  I feel the survey was more than likely flawed because it was taken by a jewelry company and most of the traditional Valentines Day gifts scored low. (Jewelry was not mentioned)Clothing, candy and lingerie topped the worst type of gift to give at 20%.  Cards ranked 9% on worst gift list.  Household items actually did better than </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110669913044643137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110669913044643137' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110669913044643137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110669913044643137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/top-10-list-of-worst-valentines-day.html' title='Top 10 List of Worst Valentines Day Gifts'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110662074073647991</id><published>2005-01-24T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-24T18:40:34.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Drama is life with the dull bits cut out".    Alfred Hitchcock</title><summary type='text'>I've been accused of being dramatic and have always denied it vehemently. "Having a crisis does not a drama queen one make", I have exclaimed huffily. I have been thinking of how I have a tendency to draaaaaaaawwwww out calamity. And cling to the anxious feeling almost lovingly. I have had a few crisis's these past few weeks. The sickness drama has been one crisis, there have been others.My </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110662074073647991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110662074073647991' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110662074073647991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110662074073647991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/drama-is-life-with-dull-bits-cut-out.html' title='&quot;Drama is life with the dull bits cut out&quot;.    Alfred Hitchcock'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110627266924881761</id><published>2005-01-20T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-24T19:20:57.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Castration 101</title><summary type='text'>A guy I went to high school with castrated himself about a year after I graduated. He was doing drugs. The word on the street was he thought his item of castration was a snake.RENO MAN CASTRATES HIMSELFA Reno man called 911 Monday. Seems he was profusely bleeding from his lower quarters. See he wanted to lower his libido. Apparently he had some sort of sexual addiction? So he typed castration </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110627266924881761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110627266924881761' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110627266924881761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110627266924881761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/castration-101.html' title='Castration 101'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110590861133247855</id><published>2005-01-16T12:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T12:50:11.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Blogger Fired </title><summary type='text'>Depending on the blog style, we bloggers tend to mention our personal lives.  It is unavoidable.  I try to use caution.  I try hard not to post something that would hurt or offend a family member, some of my best material never makes it.  I would rather my writing suffer than hurt my family.  And work well...no one I work with knows my blog address or that I even have a blog.  I rarely mention </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110590861133247855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110590861133247855' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110590861133247855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110590861133247855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/another-blogger-fired_16.html' title='Another Blogger Fired '/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110590730475966533</id><published>2005-01-16T12:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T12:28:24.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Haunted House"</title><summary type='text'>Cowgirls Do The News: "Haunted House'The definition of a poltergeist is 'noisy ghost'.An Austrian man was hearing strange noises late at night. He would hear slamming doors, echoing footsteps in an empty hallway. He decided his house was haunted. Not knowing what else to do, he called the police.The police captured on video, a 42 year old woman, making ghostly noises throughout his house. </summary><link rel='related' href='http://newsbloggers.blogspot.com/' title='&quot;Haunted House&quot;'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110590730475966533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110590730475966533' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110590730475966533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110590730475966533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/haunted-house.html' title='&quot;Haunted House&quot;'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110584974393739378</id><published>2005-01-15T20:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-15T20:29:03.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Naked Wisdom</title><summary type='text'>Orem UtahA Utah woman showed up at the post office to check her mail, wearing nothing but her boots and sunglasses.  As the patrons mouths dropped open in shock, the naked woman told them they needed to repent.  The police pulled the 49 year old woman over as she was driving away.  She told them they were in need of repentance as well.  She was taken to the hospital for a mental evaluation.  </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110584974393739378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110584974393739378' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110584974393739378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110584974393739378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/naked-wisdom.html' title='Naked Wisdom'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110558828500502519</id><published>2005-01-12T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T19:51:25.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oops! Kid's do the darndest things?</title><summary type='text'>Prince Harry wears Nazi costume to party.My mother used to say, if you live long enough your kids will humble you.  British royalty are no exception.  I think maybe Harry is rebelling a little.  It would be difficult to be a Prince.  And the British are so stuffy.  He was dressed as a Hitler Youth, complete with a swastika on the armband and collar.  He was also photographed sporting a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110558828500502519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110558828500502519' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110558828500502519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110558828500502519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/oops-kids-do-darndest-things.html' title='Oops! Kid&apos;s do the darndest things?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110541424853360151</id><published>2005-01-10T19:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-10T19:30:48.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear Factor?</title><summary type='text'>My fear?  That I might be forced to watch an "eating" segment of this show.  Is it just me? Am I the only one in the free world, other than the poor guy who suffered "grievous injury" when he ran into a wall in a vain attempt to make it to the toilet to puke, that is happy fear factor is being sued for it's rat blender episode?  </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110541424853360151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110541424853360151' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110541424853360151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110541424853360151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/fear-factor.html' title='Fear Factor?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110530980833107618</id><published>2005-01-09T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T14:30:08.330-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dumpster Divers</title><summary type='text'>Scientific studies have shown: Garbage dumpsters have germs in them.  Note to my neighbors:  I know your kids are probably bored.  I know that in an apartment complex there is not a lot for them to do.  The park is across the street but you don't want to send them there unattended.  I don't want to get in your business, or be an alarmist, but please look out the window.  Your little boys are </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110530980833107618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110530980833107618' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110530980833107618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110530980833107618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/dumpster-divers.html' title='Dumpster Divers'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110497113316212613</id><published>2005-01-05T16:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-05T16:25:33.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Now, My Toenails are too Long. </title><summary type='text'>I remember when I was a teenager, there was a saying that floated about on tv commercials, etc.  It was "not now I am washing my hair" or "I will be washing my hair on Saturday".  It was supposed to be a response to use when someone asked you out for a date and you did not want to go.  Radical Muslim cleric Abu Hamza, who faces 16 charges, including incitement to murder and stirring up racial </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110497113316212613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110497113316212613' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110497113316212613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110497113316212613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/not-now-my-toenails-are-too-long.html' title='Not Now, My Toenails are too Long. '/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110480756784836681</id><published>2005-01-03T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-04T05:22:01.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Memory - My Mother </title><summary type='text'>Things my Mother taught me (excuse my fingers, they are tongue tied)1. My mother taught me to love beauty.  She gave me art lessons at a young age.2. She showed me how to calm a fussy baby, entertain a bored toddler with homemade  playdough and a multitude of other things. 3. By not doing everything for me, she showed me I could be strong.4. After my paternal grandmother died, she moved </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110480756784836681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110480756784836681' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110480756784836681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110480756784836681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/in-memory-my-mother.html' title='In Memory - My Mother '/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110480617063249368</id><published>2005-01-03T18:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-03T18:36:10.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jigsaw Rage</title><summary type='text'>Soon to come.....little tests popping up all over blog sites, What kind of jigsaw strategist are you? Researchers at the University of Bath have conducted a study on human interaction. They asked people to complete a 121 piece jigsaw puzzle alone or in a group. They were video taped. They will be using the results of the study to develope computer software designed to aid in work related </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110480617063249368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110480617063249368' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110480617063249368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110480617063249368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/jigsaw-rage.html' title='Jigsaw Rage'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110462799447568603</id><published>2005-01-01T17:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T20:19:25.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Modern Drunkeness</title><summary type='text'>I must preface this post with a statement.  I belong to a 12 step group.  I think this guy probably needs one as well.....Their is a new magazine out there called Modern Drunkeness, where every hour is happy hour and hangover cures a must-have. The editor of the magazine, Frank Kelly Rich, feels drunks are an oppressed minority. When asked about cirrhosis of the liver, he insists recent </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110462799447568603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110462799447568603' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110462799447568603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110462799447568603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/modern-drunkeness.html' title='Modern Drunkeness'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110462422055721651</id><published>2005-01-01T16:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T16:03:40.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Broke, Weird People</title><summary type='text'>According to Ecommerce News, In the eyes of Ebay, the year 2004 found consumers to be poorer and weirder. "The past year brought an explosion of the bizarre -- on both the seller and buyer side. That's in addition to the cheese sandwich bought by Internet gaming company GoldenPalace.com, which plans to take the sandwich on tour.Earlier in December, a woman listed her father's cane, along with</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110462422055721651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110462422055721651' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110462422055721651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110462422055721651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2005/01/broke-weird-people.html' title='Broke, Weird People'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110446385613583570</id><published>2004-12-30T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-30T19:30:56.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Offend......The Rooster</title><summary type='text'>2005 is the year of the Rooster, a green wooden rooster to be exact.According to Russian website AudaYou should wear green in 2005 to attract money and love. (If I believed this and really thought it would attract money, I would invest in a brand new green wardrove, complete with green underwear) It is also supposed to be the year for youth (whatever that is supposed to mean) and a great year </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110446385613583570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110446385613583570' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110446385613583570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110446385613583570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/dont-offendthe-rooster.html' title='Don&apos;t Offend......The Rooster'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110429174082298558</id><published>2004-12-28T19:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-28T19:42:20.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Issues? Psychosis? </title><summary type='text'>Ever had a case of Christmas blues?  A seasonal depression, that materializes during the Christmas season, sometimes triggered by loss.  (deaths, aging, loss in general,  etc.) It is usually alleviated by the holiday passing.   In the past there have been times, I must admit,  I have wallowed in self pity during the holiday season.  Said wallowing did nothing, by the  way, except make everyone </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110429174082298558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110429174082298558' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110429174082298558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110429174082298558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/christmas-issues-psychosis.html' title='Christmas Issues? Psychosis? '/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110420257351356147</id><published>2004-12-27T18:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-27T18:56:13.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Over the River</title><summary type='text'>My parents/grandparents are gone now, so the over the river and thru the woods trips are to one of my sisters houses. Sample of this years trip conversations. "Its cold in the car, feels like a window is open. It is so cold. It is cold in the car. Cold in the car. It is cold" Meanwhile, at the beginning of the barrage the heat was raised to scalding. I cannot breathe and feel I might pass-out at </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110420257351356147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110420257351356147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110420257351356147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110420257351356147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/over-river.html' title='Over the River'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110386323983180327</id><published>2004-12-23T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T20:51:24.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis The Reason </title><summary type='text'>Silent night, holy night,Son of God, love's pure light.Radiant beams from Thy holy face,With the dawn of redeeming grace,Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth;Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.Merry Christmas!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110386323983180327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110386323983180327' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110386323983180327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110386323983180327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/tis-reason.html' title='Tis The Reason '/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110385560002050140</id><published>2004-12-23T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T18:33:20.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fooey to the World - Festivus Nigh</title><summary type='text'>Tired of the same old Christmas party games? New Christmas craze spreading. I loved Seinfield, and have seen all of the shows at least twice. It is a tribute to that shows creativity that a new "holiday" craze has begun. An alternative Christmas celebration. Would I attend a Festivus party? Absolutely. It sounds like great fun. No hunting for a unisex or gag gift. No half hearted haggling over </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110385560002050140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110385560002050140' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110385560002050140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110385560002050140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/fooey-to-world-festivus-nigh.html' title='Fooey to the World - Festivus Nigh'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110384968449252800</id><published>2004-12-23T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T16:54:44.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shopping Nursery for Men</title><summary type='text'>While it may be a little late for us this year, maybe next year.  I think a London store may have the solution to the couple shopping dilemna, tired of dragging around a man this holiday season?  Marks and Spencer, set up nurseries in six of their stores this season.  "The retailer has set up special “chill-out” areas where men can kick back in front of the television while their other halves </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110384968449252800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110384968449252800' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110384968449252800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110384968449252800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/shopping-nursery-for-men.html' title='Shopping Nursery for Men'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110376876359052443</id><published>2004-12-22T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-22T18:26:03.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ho Ho Ho,  Man changes his name to Santa Claus</title><summary type='text'>The beard and white hair are real.  And yes, retired for 5 years, Marty Santa Claus Lebowitz works in a department store as Santa Claus, every year.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110376876359052443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110376876359052443' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110376876359052443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110376876359052443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/ho-ho-ho-man-changes-his-name-to-santa.html' title='Ho Ho Ho,  Man changes his name to Santa Claus'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110315708064922397</id><published>2004-12-15T16:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-20T18:29:03.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rudolph The Rednosed Reindoe........</title><summary type='text'>.flickr-photo { border: solid 1px #000000; }.flickr-frame {	float: right; text-align: center; margin-left: 15px; margin-bottom: 15px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }				rudolph,originally uploaded by E_llie.	This little tidbit contributed by my friend Sharon in Arizona. She was emailed....According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110315708064922397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110315708064922397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110315708064922397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110315708064922397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/rudolph-rednosed-reindoe.html' title='Rudolph The Rednosed Reindoe........'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110313541292510328</id><published>2004-12-15T11:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-15T16:24:37.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Multi-tasking at the Wheel</title><summary type='text'>Not too long ago, my son-in-law happened upon me in an adjacent traffic lane. He reported to everyone that I was smoking, and putting on make-up while driving down the road. I had to confess it was true.Not surprisingly the following article lists my behavior as a bad driving trait. At least I don't throw my makeup at offending drivers....Are you a dangerous driver? 10 ways to tellBad </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110313541292510328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110313541292510328' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110313541292510328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110313541292510328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/multi-tasking-at-wheel.html' title='Multi-tasking at the Wheel'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110307674508934655</id><published>2004-12-14T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-14T18:12:25.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Freedom</title><summary type='text'>Protest withdrawal means kids can sing 'Silent Night'Associated PressDec. 14, 2004 08:30 AMEGG HARBOR TOWNSHIP, N.J. - Some New Jersey school kids will be singing "Silent Night."The Egg Harbor Township board voted 7-0 Monday night to put the song back in the program at Slaybaugh elementary.A parent had complained about the religious nature of "Silent Night," then withdrew his objection </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110307674508934655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110307674508934655' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110307674508934655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110307674508934655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/christmas-freedom.html' title='Christmas Freedom'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110261625534307828</id><published>2004-12-09T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-09T10:17:35.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deputy caught urinating</title><summary type='text'>Deputy in Orange County has been caught peeing in a parking garage elevater on tape.  How horrible to be caught illegally peeing.   What an idiot to be caught and to be the pee-er.  The reason he was caught on tape?  Sting operation, due to the smell.  Want to see the incriminating evidence?  Check out CBS News section Caught On Tape. At this site you can view video of court skirmishes, </summary><link rel='related' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/' title='Deputy caught urinating'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110261625534307828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110261625534307828' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110261625534307828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110261625534307828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/deputy-caught-urinating.html' title='Deputy caught urinating'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110239625347907837</id><published>2004-12-06T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-06T21:14:30.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dysfunctional Section at a Hallmark Store</title><summary type='text'>This came in an email at work.  I have no idea how old this is.  I do not know who wrote it.Dysfunctional Section at A Hallmark Store1.  I  always wanted to have someone to hold, someone to love. And now that  you've come into my life...(Inside card) - I've changed my mind.2.  I  must admit, you brought religion into my life...(Inside  card) - I never believed in Hell until I met you.3.  </summary><link rel='related' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/' title='Dysfunctional Section at a Hallmark Store'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110239625347907837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110239625347907837' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110239625347907837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110239625347907837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/dysfunctional-section-at-hallmark.html' title='Dysfunctional Section at a Hallmark Store'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110230075848589786</id><published>2004-12-05T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T18:41:18.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cow, er.....Toilet Tipping</title><summary type='text'>Youv'e heard of cow tipping right? Where you sneak up on a sleeping cow and knock him or her over? (Why, Why?) If you have never had the opportunity to wade through a field of cow waste products in the middle of the night or don't have a cow handy and want to try your hand at cow tipping click on the link above and you can tip one over virtually.There is a new more urban past time called toilet</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110230075848589786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110230075848589786' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110230075848589786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110230075848589786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/12/cow-ertoilet-tipping.html' title='Cow, er.....Toilet Tipping'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110175325060733172</id><published>2004-11-29T11:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T16:41:12.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day in the life</title><summary type='text'>Please excuse the offending Grandmother blog story. (For those who find the Mom blogs offensive, I can imagine your reaction to a grandmother posting.)My daughter with the new baby lives with me. She was very concerned before the baby was born that he would be confused about who his mother was. She shouldn't have worried. I as the grandmother am "The Burper" only.A typical scene in my </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110175325060733172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110175325060733172' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110175325060733172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110175325060733172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/11/day-in-life.html' title='Day in the life'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110159752278728455</id><published>2004-11-27T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-27T15:28:32.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nursing the five year old </title><summary type='text'> I was reading a post from the Dotmoms today. In this particular article, Jessamyn  is lamenting the passing of her nursing days. I can relate. I always lingered over nursing and gave it up somewhat reluctantly. It can be very sweet for both Mom and baby. One of my daughters has a new baby and they live with me. She is learning for herself how absolutely wonderful it can be to nurse. She is also </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110159752278728455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110159752278728455' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110159752278728455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110159752278728455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/11/nursing-five-year-old.html' title='Nursing the five year old '/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8222420.post-110135182348345093</id><published>2004-11-24T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-24T19:03:43.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Off to my gynecologist appointment.......in the storage shed.</title><summary type='text'>What was he thinking, ok I am pretty sure we all know what he was thinking. The real question is what were THEY thinking. His vicims that is. To go for treatment to this Dr. would be an extreme stupid human trick. Man who posed as gynecologist sentenced to four years in Texas prisonAssociated PressNov. 24, 2004 10:55 AMDALLAS - A man who posed as a gynecologist after setting up an office in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/feeds/110135182348345093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8222420&amp;postID=110135182348345093' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110135182348345093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8222420/posts/default/110135182348345093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ebloggings.blogspot.com/2004/11/off-to-my-gynecologist-appointmentin.html' title='Off to my gynecologist appointment.......in the storage shed.'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05132110856229962327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='24' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3170705_5ba735bf7b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
