<?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-15897168</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:27:28.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Written In Chalk</title><subtitle type='html'>I should probably be doing something else but I am out here blogging...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-5956298337942970716</id><published>2010-08-07T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T17:35:27.378-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sign on My Door</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF37FfDeBmI/AAAAAAAAAE0/bwcNVO9ZXTI/s1600/Sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 160px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF37FfDeBmI/AAAAAAAAAE0/bwcNVO9ZXTI/s320/Sign.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502830391370581602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live very near a church... underneath it, in fact. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, my grandparents were pastors. My grandfather a pastor and carpenter. He built his own church and downstairs at the back end he built in a workshop. This workshop then became an office and eventually an odd, yet comfy, little apartment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My grandfather passed away when I was a child but my grandmother kept the church and only retired some years ago. She now rents the church to a pastor and his parishioners...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;who keep knocking on my door trying to convert me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After three conversations at the door (with me in my PJ's) as well as several lovely pamphlets left for me to read, I decided to take a stand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-5956298337942970716?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/5956298337942970716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=5956298337942970716&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/5956298337942970716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/5956298337942970716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2010/08/sign-on-my-door.html' title='The Sign on My Door'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF37FfDeBmI/AAAAAAAAAE0/bwcNVO9ZXTI/s72-c/Sign.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-2929317695198946845</id><published>2010-01-31T10:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T10:46:17.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So, it has been a long long time...</title><content type='html'>duff reminded me that it has been two years since I last wrote here. Indeed, it has been a long time since I wrote at all. Time to remedy that.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will have something to write about in the near future. Even if my only reader is you, duff. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-2929317695198946845?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/2929317695198946845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=2929317695198946845&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/2929317695198946845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/2929317695198946845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-it-has-been-long-long-time.html' title='So, it has been a long long time...'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-8851603639500866764</id><published>2007-02-25T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T10:04:02.002-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Door to Door for EWB</title><content type='html'>I spent yesterday afternoon slipping and sliding on driveways, playing with neighborhood dogs and going door to door asking for donations. This is not a normal Saturday afternoon activity for me.  I was lucky to have an experienced member of the group show me the ropes and explain the project to people in a clear and concise manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What project would get me out in the snow looking for money?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have recently joined a group of MSU students on campus called &lt;a href="http://www.chbe.montana.edu/ewb/index.htm" target="_self"&gt;Engineers Without Borders&lt;/a&gt;. No, I am not an engineer. I am a geographer working towards a second degree in sociology.  I fit in because this group is a mix of students with a variety of backgrounds who are interested in long term sustainable development that provides a broader world perspective. In this particular case we work together to establish a long term relationship with Kenyan communities in order to put in hand pump wells and compost latrines at the local schools. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, female students miss hours of class while fetching water. The water they fetch is often unclean and causes illnesses which increases time away from class for both them and their classmates. The latrines that are utilized are unsanitary and contribute not only to illnesses but also to ground water contamination. The hope is to not only put in sustainable wells and compost latrines but also empower the communities to take a more active role in addressing their needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One pump costs close to$15,000 U.S. just for the drilling and materials. Our goal has been to raise $350 a week and work on obtaining some large grants. We have about 15 students working diligently on these goals. We also have some informational meetings and fundraising events coming up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are interested in donating, giving fundraising ideas or simply asking more questions- drop me a line.  I will post updates and upcoming events as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-8851603639500866764?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/8851603639500866764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=8851603639500866764&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/8851603639500866764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/8851603639500866764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2007/02/door-to-door-for-ewb.html' title='Door to Door for EWB'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-7740274487243881610</id><published>2007-02-07T22:55:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T22:56:41.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Call Smokey!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If you read yesterday's blog you will remember that I wished my friend Scott, the professional fire performer, safety as he played with flames.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I still wish him safety but think I was the one that was receiving a warning from some unseen power.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;This evening, I came home after a longer than usual day at work. I turned on the computer and then began to methodically boil frozen ravioli, bake garlic bread, and open a can of cheater sauce (I know, I know, homemade is better). At some point I set the lid to one of the pans on a burner, I set an oven mitt on top of this lid, and I turned on (what I thought was) the other burner. I then proceeded to talk to my sis, check my email and as I was playing with the TV antennae I realized that something was burning.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Not slightly burning- oh no- on fire. There was smoke billowing into my living room. I am sure I exclaimed some profanity out loud before, during and after running into the kitchen and throwing the flaming oven mitt into the sink for a dowsing of water. I also used a different oven mitt to toss the lid in the sink too. I then opened all my windows…&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;…to no avail.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The fire alarm went off. Not my little (yet annoyingly effective) apartment fire alarm but the building fire alarm. I quickly turned off all burners, the oven, etc, put on my shoes, made sure nothing was still flaming, and headed down 6 flights of stairs and into a crowd of neighbors; very few of whom have I actually met. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;As I walked towards them I said, "It is my fault! I am sorry! I was cooking and I caught an oven mitt on fire…" We had to stand there while the loud building fire alarm (complete with flashing blue light) went on and on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I chatted with my next door neighbor, who gave me a hug. She and the guy who lives down the hall were very consoling and tried to make me feel better.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I did have to declare several times to several different people in front of the crowd that yes, it was me and I caught an oven mitt on fire and yes the fire was out and no there should not be a fire in my room. This all whil everyone stood out in the cold until the firemen arrived in full garb with their sirens wailing. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I commented to a gal I was talking to that this was the most ruckus I had ever caused in my whole life (I have been a part of a bigger ruckus but that was not my fault… and it happened to involve a fire alarm as well come to think of it). I also had to announce to the fire men and all those around what apartment number I lived in so that they could locate the cause. While mentioning where I lived, I announced to the crowd that they could slide any letters of grievance under my door. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The firemen came, they went up the stairs, they came back down the stairs, they needed my key. Yes, they had axes but keys are more civilized. They went up the stairs, came back down the stairs, declared the apartment safe, and we went up the stairs. A fireman awaited me at the door and told me that I "did the right thing by getting that mitt under water."&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am sure he was not trying to reassure me of my idiocy but was trying to cheer me up. I thought, "Brilliant! I remembered something I learned in kindergarten! Water puts fire out. Go me!"&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;As I entered my apartment, leaned my head out my door and offered my floor mates the option of using my Oust if they needed a little help getting the stench of charred 100% cotton and algodon out of their nostrils.&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I had no takers. The guy down the hall laughed.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I went inside to try to eat the meal I had begun to prepare. The ravioli needed boiling, the bread wasn't done, and the sauce was still unopened.Still, in the end, I had burnt bread, and chewy ravioli with the cheese all but boiled out of it.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;mmmmm… now, that was tasty.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;What did I learn from this? Never ever buy the frozen round whole wheat raviolis. I think the spirits of long dead Italian chefs gathered to curse me for purchasing and then attempting to first cook and then *gasp* eat such a delicacy imposter.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;On a positive note- my apartment no longer smells like fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I think tomorrow night, I will order delivery.&lt;/p&gt;*** and yes, there is a pic of the burnt mitt on my picture site-- mwendepics***&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-7740274487243881610?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/7740274487243881610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=7740274487243881610&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/7740274487243881610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/7740274487243881610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2007/02/call-smokey.html' title='Call Smokey!'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-6660679089157028819</id><published>2007-02-07T22:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T08:56:55.037-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday's Interesting Events</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;1)&lt;span style="" times="" new="" roman="" style="" variant="" weight="" size="" 7pt="" height="" adjust="" none="" stretch="" normal=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;It has become a habit for me to turn the computer on first thing every morning. Today, I got up, hit the on button, went in the other room, and came back to find my computer already on my homepage. All I did was turn it on.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;2)&lt;span style="" times="" new="" roman="" style="" variant="" weight="" size="" 7pt="" height="" adjust="" none="" stretch="" normal=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;After showering I went in to change and checked what time it was on my cell phone only to find that it had logged itself into my Verizon account online. There are approximately five steps that it had to take on its own to get to that point. I am beginning to wonder about my electronics and if they have minds of their own.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;3)&lt;span style="" times="" new="" roman="" style="" variant="" weight="" size="" 7pt="" height="" adjust="" none="" stretch="" normal=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;When I came home from classes I opened the door to the everlasting smell of fish in my apartment. It has been a week since we made fish tacos and yet I can not get rid of the smell. I have burned candles and incense and even opened windows in cold temps. Nothing works. I even jokingly called Bill and asked him if he left dead fish under my couch as a parting gift. Even though he thought that would have been a good idea he commented that he hadn't been brilliant enough to think of that while he was in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;4)&lt;span style="" times="" new="" roman="" style="" variant="" weight="" size="" 7pt="" height="" adjust="" none="" stretch="" normal=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So, I went to Target to get some Oust to cover up the scent of the fish and found myself talking about lotion with some lady in the isle o' lotions. Although the conversation was a bit strange it was not as odd as the time I found myself comparing and contrasting the cost of tampons with a girl from one of my previous classes that I had just ran into… you know where...&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;5)&lt;span style="" times="" new="" roman="" style="" variant="" weight="" size="" 7pt="" height="" adjust="" none="" stretch="" normal=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;After wandering around Target a bit I found myself at the check out isle where I had a discussion with check out gal about if I should get Oust or the cheaper Renuzit brand of deodorizer. We eventually decided to go for the Oust because we had not heard anything about the Renuzit. Embarrassingly, she rang up all my items and then I discovered the absence of my wallet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;6)&lt;span style="" times="" new="" roman="" style="" variant="" weight="" size="" 7pt="" height="" adjust="" none="" stretch="" normal=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I ran home, got the wallet, returned to Target, purchased my items, returned home, prepared dinner, got dinner in the oven, and sat down to read my newly purchased Fitness magazine only to discover that someone had ripped the, "Buddy Up For A Better Body – Great moves to try with any partner" out of the magazine. Granted, I bought the magazine mainly for the Salmon Cakes with Creamy Ginger-Sesame Sauce recipe in the Heart Healthy Eating section (oh and the What Works Best for My Belly work out was runner up… really), but still… I felt ripped off… even a bit violated. I cheered up once I realized it was probably some poor starving college student who needed some ideas on how to spice V-day up with his/her significant other. Obviously, they needed that section more than I did… right?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;7)&lt;span style="" times="" new="" roman="" style="" variant="" weight="" size="" 7pt="" height="" adjust="" none="" stretch="" normal=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   While typing this last sentence (probably not exact) I did something and something happened and I lost everything I wrote. No kidding. Ask my sis. She got to see me type cuss words into MSN instant messenger.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;8)&lt;span style="" times="" new="" roman="" style="" variant="" weight="" size="" 7pt="" height="" adjust="" none="" stretch="" normal=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;AND Just now, I typed over MSN instant messenger "scott" and up came the symbol of a little stick man dumping gasoline all over himself and lighting himself on fire. Interestingly, my friend Scott is actually a professional fire performer… Scott- please be careful out there!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-6660679089157028819?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/6660679089157028819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=6660679089157028819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/6660679089157028819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/6660679089157028819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2007/02/yesterdays-interesting-events.html' title='Yesterday&apos;s Interesting Events'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-6625665578416806607</id><published>2007-01-23T08:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T08:56:55.205-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crunch-Crunch Pant-Pant</title><content type='html'>Last night, I went out to get the Diet Coke that I forgot &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;IN&lt;/span&gt; my car. The sun was down and the parking lot lights were on. I did not have a coat on because it made it into the thirties yesterday and was still above twenty when I went out. It was one of those thoughtful nights. Quiet. Parking lot lights on the snow. No one around. Darkness hanging on the fringes more like a warm blanket than a dark drape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grabbed the Diet Coke and turned to see a man and a woman running with their dogs. They ran through the lit parking lot, their tennied feet making little crunching sounds, their dogs pleased as punch that they are so blessed to have parents that run (and with other people and dogs!), and the human voices passing with seeming easy between one another as the only sound in the night besides the crunch crunch and pant pant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were talking about how they like to eat their eggs.  They were on a date. A running date, 7pm at night, in the snow, with their dogs, and talking about eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled to myself and said a little blessing for them before I went inside. All the way up the elevator I wanted someone there to chat with me about how we like our eggs. Funny, a 5 second window into someone else's life, a stranger's even, can tell us much about ourselves...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-6625665578416806607?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/6625665578416806607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=6625665578416806607&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/6625665578416806607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/6625665578416806607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2007/01/crunch-crunch-pant-pant.html' title='Crunch-Crunch Pant-Pant'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-603332189487618105</id><published>2006-11-20T09:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T09:44:20.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Spent the Morning of My 30th B-day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/4688/1940/1600/14762/stickers1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/4688/1940/320/620683/stickers1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I spent my morning reading this book while waiting for my turn to get a mammo. The imaging center I went to was really nice and had more of a spa feel to it than a hospital. There were fountains in the lobby and I was given I nice robe to wear while in the waiting room outside the imaging rooms. I even had the option of tea and coffee with cookies to eat while I awaited my own private torture session. See the little stickers?  Had to use those to mark parts. The people were actually really nice and all went well. It hurt- but I got a clean bill from the radiologist and advice to do monthly breast self-examines as well as follow up with my doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the book- it is really good- and I suggest everyone pick up a copy and educate themselves on some of the realities of immigration to the U.S.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-603332189487618105?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/603332189487618105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=603332189487618105&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/603332189487618105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/603332189487618105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/11/how-i-spent-morning-of-my-30th-b-day.html' title='How I Spent the Morning of My 30th B-day'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-115972149170146278</id><published>2006-10-01T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:41.125-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Morning Blues</title><content type='html'>Ok- so I don't really have the blues but I liked that title better than- Sunday Morning Smiling - or something perkier. Besides- I have a great song by the Kings of Leon called "Day Old Blues" (which reminds me of how I am feeling today)stuck in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have ever heard it (if you haven't you should- it is on the album Aha Shake Heartbreak released 2/22/05) you know that it is mellow and blue-ish but also celebratory.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, having the blues can also bring catharsis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by and by - check out my new blog for photos - there should be a link to the right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-115972149170146278?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/115972149170146278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=115972149170146278&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115972149170146278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115972149170146278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/10/sunday-morning-blues.html' title='Sunday Morning Blues'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-115963019143812040</id><published>2006-09-30T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:41.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Count Cosmos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4415/1488/1600/techno%20color%20count.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4415/1488/320/techno%20color%20count.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my friend the Beta- in techno-color.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-115963019143812040?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/115963019143812040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=115963019143812040&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115963019143812040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115963019143812040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/09/count-cosmos.html' title='Count Cosmos'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-115500731768804624</id><published>2006-08-07T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:40.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WIll and Destiny</title><content type='html'>I just finished writing a friend who returned not long ago from leading a group of 15 kids on a trip in Costa Rica. It was a difficult journey that ended with everyone sick in the airport on the way home. It has been almost a week and I think he is just now coming down from the adrenaline associated with being on 24/7 crisis mode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit behind my laptop and imagine him now, at his van down by the river, living a life that most of us only dream of- rafting and exploring opportunities where his soul and powers that be take him- following his dreams and heart... wondering what is next as he looks at the waters of the American River with a journal and pen in hand, or maybe a fly rod and water up to his knees...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I wrote to him I thought of a quote I recently read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The coincidences and themes that have repeated themselves throughout my experiences have given me faith that there exists a thread of destiny that runs through our lives. Sometimes it has been just the right person showing up at just the right time, or perhaps a specific incident that would guide me toward a certain decision or action, or the sudden appearance of financial help when it was most needed; these patterns convince me that life is inspired and driven by forces larger than our individual egos. At the same time I do believe will is a determinate force in shaping one's future. Both will and destiny court each other in an odd sort of dance, weaving synchronicities...that confirm one is headed in the right direction." -Renee Askins Shadow Mountain: A Memoir of Wolves, A Woman, and the Wild&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would add- or in the wrong direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wonder what role faith and hope have with destiny and will. Surely the first two feed the second two. When will becomes weak it can only feed off hope and faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nathan, and many others in my life, reinforce my hope and faith which in turn cultivate my will to move forward with belief that there is a reason, a destiny, and a life with meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit behind my laptop outside in the evening breeze with crickets beckoning me into the fields- I think of Nathan and many others that I love. I send blessings their way...and yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-115500731768804624?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/115500731768804624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=115500731768804624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115500731768804624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115500731768804624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/08/will-and-destiny.html' title='WIll and Destiny'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-115307594894253544</id><published>2006-07-16T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:40.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Morning Excitement</title><content type='html'>I have a love for coffee that has grown since I was the tender age of 6 and sipping out of a styrofoam cup given to me by my father (per my request) after church one day. I have the distinct memory of the taste of that coffee. Somehow, even at six, I paralleled the experience with drinking Castrol 10w50.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then my taste buds have changed either due to actual development for the taste or because my body has developed an addiction. Either way, I woke up this morning with an excited enthusiastic drive to grind the whole Kenyan coffee beans, put them in the French press, and then experience the satisfaction of pouring hot water over the granules and adding my own vanilla flavoring to signify my disentanglement from the local coffee dealers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"$3.50 a pop for a vanilla latte no more!" I thought as I put the tea kettle on the back burner and turned the knob to 'H' for high. In the process I moved a blue plastic ice tray from the burner where the tea kettle now sat to the one next door, and satisfied that I had saved the tray, I sat down to instant message duff while she dj-d from the other side of the continent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was long before I heard the pleasant burbling of water which spurred a quiet and happy anticipation..."Aw... soon I will have coffee..." but soon this was replaced with... "There is no steam emanating from the tea pot.." and I went to the stove to find this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4415/1488/1600/Ice%20cube%20tray%20fiasco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4415/1488/320/Ice%20cube%20tray%20fiasco.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see... it was melting and bubbling and began to smoke and spew. My sister jumped up, while I stood there saying, "Oh Crap! Oh Crap!" and immediately grabbed a spatula and scooped the pieces off the stove and into the sink before running to the fire alarm and unplugging it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began to strategically place fans throughout the apartment, open all the windows, and laugh uncontrollably. Beth was laughing too. We eventually did get our cups of vanilla flavored freshly ground and French-pressed coffee with cream... sadly, one ice cube tray had to die for the cause.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-115307594894253544?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/115307594894253544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=115307594894253544&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115307594894253544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115307594894253544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/07/sunday-morning-excitement.html' title='Sunday Morning Excitement'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-115285093996333792</id><published>2006-07-13T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:40.662-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Demolition of McDonald Pass Disc Golf Course</title><content type='html'>My favorite local disc golf course is &lt;a href="http://www.pdga.com/course/courses_by_city.php?id=1175"&gt;McDonald Pass&lt;/a&gt;. As you see from the link, it is, or WAS, the oldest course in the state of Montana. It is also one of the more beautiful courses I have ever played. In the spring there are still snow drifts to go along with the creek, marsh, tree, and barb wire fence hazards.  One can stop and look at the variety of flora as they come alive after the winter abates and then watch the variety of wildflowers, birds, and wildlife that can be seen there in that seemingly cut off from the world folf course in the mountains as they change through summer, fall, and back into winter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rumors had been circulating that the course was going to be taken down even though it is one of the most popular disc golf courses in the state, the sight of the Continental Divide Tournament, and a place for people of all ages to come and spend time in a gorgeous Rocky Mountain environment. No specific reason has been given, that I know of, and we had all hoped that these rumors were just rumors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, they are not. This evening, my sister went with one of our close friends to play a round of disc golf only to come back in a state of distress because it is being torn down. She said they couldn’t finish their game and they left in tears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a city, state, (heck) country that is facing problems with obesity, disconnect with nature, depression, teenage delinquency, and over all disconnect from one another and our natural environment; why the hell would you take down a disc golf course that offers a place of sanctuary for people from all different age, economic, and cultural backgrounds? Why take down a place that gives kids and adults something constructive to do outdoors that is cheap (free) and a good alternative to watching tv, doing drugs, or hanging out on street corners?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it ironic that on the same weekend the city of Helena is having anti-meth workshops with kids they are tearing down an environment necessary to keep kids and adults off meth, off the streets, and physically active. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of that, it is one more thing that makes this town appealing that is being destroyed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-115285093996333792?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/115285093996333792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=115285093996333792&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115285093996333792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115285093996333792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/07/demolition-of-mcdonald-pass-disc-golf.html' title='Demolition of McDonald Pass Disc Golf Course'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-115164654024815949</id><published>2006-06-29T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:40.552-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A little bit about our road trip...</title><content type='html'>duff (no capitalization per her consistent request over the years) came up to Bozeman last week. I picked her up at the airport with her favorite Taco Johns awaiting her in the car. We ate the (by that time) mushy tacos in an inexpensive hotel room where we found ourselves chatting face to face, over the usual multi-colored bedspread, for the first time in six years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we began an adventure we had looked forward to for weeks. We cruised through Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons stopping often enough for duff to fill 14 rolls of film and take over 700 digital shots (I took 3 rolls of color and one black and white). We saw elk, buffalo, moose, blue herons, and prairie dogs while chasing the tails of other tourists and praying that my muffler would hang on to the car over God only knew how many more pot holes on our pursuit to get as many stamps in our National Parks Passports as possible (thanks to duff for a new pass time!) and see as many awe inspiring sites as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think duff was surprised at how big the parks were as it became clear we could not fit all she wanted to do in our allotted time frame. Sadness ensued for just a few moments before a plan b or c was agreed upon (once over slightly crusty burgers served by a waiter who, we agreed, would be more attractive if he would shave the chops). Eventually a decision was made that she has to come back, several times, to see all she wants to see (my evil plan worked :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some successes:&lt;br /&gt;-survived relatively remote camping spot with signs warning about hungry bears&lt;br /&gt;-survived gigantic mosquitos that threatened to fly away with duff in tow&lt;br /&gt;-built my first campfire (even though I brought greenish wood)&lt;br /&gt;-utilized t-shirt in place of towel (towels are over rated) after showering at a less remote campsite (good idea duff) complete with running water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some... ooops-s&lt;br /&gt;-forgot said towels&lt;br /&gt;-opened several drinks that managed to spray all over duff&lt;br /&gt;-accidentally crunched duff's sunglasses inside the tent while rolling it up&lt;br /&gt;-didn't get any phone numbers from the hot guys on motor bikes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I eventually had to leave duff at the airport she was taking a bag of Taco Johns with her for the flight home and I was taking home a carload, a heartload, and a brainload of souvenirs. One of which was this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pieces of you that you have forgotten (or closed off) will be remembered when you spend time with those who know you as you were and as you are. Those close to you can shatter your crystalline illusions and leave you looking at the shards in awe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-115164654024815949?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/115164654024815949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=115164654024815949&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115164654024815949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115164654024815949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/06/little-bit-about-our-road-trip.html' title='A little bit about our road trip...'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-115078010898422047</id><published>2006-06-19T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:40.409-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tea Party for Two</title><content type='html'>A friend stayed in our guest room with his four year old daughter this weekend. I came home from church to her smiling face Sunday afternoon. With her blue eyes batting she looked at me and said, "Please Charity! Can we have a tea party?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I held onto the adult self and explained I had to do dishes from the party the night before and change out of my church clothes... and... I stopped in midsentence. Those pretty blue eyes and cute face turned sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't stand that little sad face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found myself digging out my fancy teacups that a friend gave me a long long time ago after a trip he made to Japan. They were elegant and gold tipped but covered in dust. As I washed she stood beside me bouncing on her tiptoes with a towel in hand so she could gingerly dry each one. Her hair swished with her every excited move. Then she exclaimed "We need a teapot! Do you have a teapot?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went teapot hunting and I found one with a dragon and peacock painted on the side. It was an early inheritance gift from my mother. For a moment I caught myself worrying about if it were to break and then I thought, "Think about what it would mean to you when you were her age." and "What the heck else are you going to use it for if not a tea party?  Why else would this come into your hands if not to share it in this moment?" So I handed the teapot over to her and she craddled it with both hands as we walked down the stairs to bath it and fill it with iced tea that I had in the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She proudly set the tea glasses out with the mismatched teapot on the blue carpet in the living room and poured us each a cup. She politely and proudly served me as we sat on the floor (I was still in my long black skirt from church). She sipped for awhile and then said, "We need something to eat with our tea, Charity! What can we eat? We need lots of food for our tea party!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left our tea party on the carpet and went diggin again. We filled a crystal platter with Ritz crackers, cherries, M&amp;Ms and veggies (I didn't have any cookies). I also found my sugar bowl and handed it to her with a spoon stating that some people like sugar in their tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After getting our spoils together we placed them on the floor with our tea cups and teapot and began nibbling and drinking. Smiling she added sugar to her tea- 3 spoonfulls- while saying, "I don't want to add too much..." and then she licked the spoon and insisted I need to try some sugar too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that moment I was faced with the "adult" voice again, "Oh no, she licked the spoon and now wants to spoon me sugar... should I tell her about the rules of etiquette?" and the response, "When did you get so fuddy duddy!? Who cares! Look at the smile on her face!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never had a sweeter cup of tea. Nor do I remember a cooler tea party- not since the one I had when I was about her age. I remembered the back porch, the wooden picnic table whose paint is now almost worn off, and mom bringing us koolaid for us to fill our plastic teacups and sip sip sip until we were sunburnt and cherry-stached.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and I sipped. We refilled the pot three times and let them sit out way into the evening... or, at least, I did. I let them lay around half filled with tea lines beginning to paint the sides and cherry seeds sticking to crystal... washing them meant the moment was gone and might not have happened. Washing them meant that the tea party was over...and I really didn't want that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But eventually we washed them and now they sit gleaming and shining on my kitchen table. I don't want to put them away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-115078010898422047?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/115078010898422047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=115078010898422047&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115078010898422047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/115078010898422047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/06/tea-party-for-two.html' title='Tea Party for Two'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114714611626913387</id><published>2006-05-08T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:40.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"L" memish sort of thing</title><content type='html'>So, once again, duff has begun a fun little word game... actually, she got it from osbasso- but hey- here I go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how it works: Comment on this entry and I will give you a letter. Write ten words beginning with that letter in your journal, including an explanation of what the word means to you and why, and then pass out letters to those who want to play along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lefse- My great grandfather came over from Norway and we have a tradition of making lefse for Christmas every year. It is especially yummy with butter, sugar, and cinnamon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lutefisk- ewwwwwwww. Luckily we never had to this. Rather, we eat Torsk (otherwise known as poor man's crab)with lots o' butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laundry- Somehow, even though my sister runs a load everyday, it is never done and I always end up folding it or finding loads left in the wash machine that smell of mold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladyfingers- These are a very important part of one of my favorite deserts- Tiramisu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Limes- Yum. Very necessary for my Gin and Tonics, Coronas, and my favorite Margaritas with Sausa tequilla. If I go to a bar that has those little tiny chinsy lime wedges I request to have 3 or more in my drink. Yeah, I am one of those...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lightning Bugs- I miss stopping the car on back roads (that have been demolished by suburbia) of Missouri on a summer night to watch fields of them twinkle in the night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Legos- We had a ton of these and while others made multi-dimensional castles I seemed to only be able to build a studio apartment... without the roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Libido- I am almost 30. Need I say anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladybugs- I save them whenever I can. I firmly believe that not only are they great for getting rid of pesky aphids but they are also good luck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lance- My younger brother. He is the best L word of all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone want to play?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114714611626913387?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114714611626913387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114714611626913387&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114714611626913387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114714611626913387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/05/l-memish-sort-of-thing.html' title='&quot;L&quot; memish sort of thing'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114585933868675963</id><published>2006-04-23T23:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:40.154-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Hope</title><content type='html'>What hope is this that brings no joy to the heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What longing is this that devours possibility and spits out its bones for fortune tellers to roll around in their bowls while they spew forth the imagined so that it may become reality?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows me if I do not?&lt;br /&gt;Who stands up for me when I can not?&lt;br /&gt;Who holds my hand when mine is not enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why should I live on the creation and memory of moments to satisfy needs that are not met? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the tools of a child, now tools of man and woman... tools utilized so, maybe for a moment, she can once again know what it is like for him to brush her hair and kiss her on the forehead before sleep, or so, he may know what it is like to want to brush her hair and kiss her on the forehead before curling up with her in his arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What love is this that brings such hope that even after it is gone it still lives?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114585933868675963?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114585933868675963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114585933868675963&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114585933868675963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114585933868675963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/04/what-hope.html' title='What Hope'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114420719447270775</id><published>2006-04-04T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:39.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ducks and Free Stuff</title><content type='html'>Two (of many) cool things in the land of MSU- ducks and free stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Free stuff first:  There is a little wooden shelf area in the entry way of my apartment complex. It is meant to house the campus newspaper but often houses other objects. Most frequently it is a trash receptacle for junk mail and unwanted crap out of people's cars. However, when people move out it becomes the location for unwanted free stuff. So far I have seen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an old dot matrix printer, cast iron candle holder, rolls of socks, some magazines, a funky Hawaiian poster (I was tempted to take that one), and some old ski boots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the reasons I did not take the poster is because I thought- is this really free stuff or is this part of the Geo game where you use GPS and GIS to locate certain places and take what is there but leave something for the next explorer? But- who would leave rolled up socks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the ducks- they are an avenue into the mushy part of me. There is a whole flock of them that live by the pond on campus. What gets me is that there are two of them that wander around campus together. They are a couple who don't always stick with the rest of the crew. I have found them sleeping together near a sculpture by the art building. I cam across them walking on the sidewalk towards the main part of campus, hanging out by a little bridge... always together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I see them I think of companionship that I have known. I look at them and think about how simplistic devotion can actually be if we would only let it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114420719447270775?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114420719447270775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114420719447270775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114420719447270775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114420719447270775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/04/ducks-and-free-stuff.html' title='Ducks and Free Stuff'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114395187122107303</id><published>2006-04-01T20:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:39.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Duality of Soul?</title><content type='html'>I just read "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" for a philosophy and religion course. I read it along time ago (in grade school perhaps) and it has done me good to read it in my current state of mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to ask- do you believe we house good and evil? Do we have a dual nature? Are we merely societal constructs? Is soul a fabrication? Is the body? Is any of this real? Or is it all an illusion?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114395187122107303?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114395187122107303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114395187122107303&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114395187122107303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114395187122107303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/04/duality-of-soul.html' title='Duality of Soul?'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114326191637770563</id><published>2006-03-24T20:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:39.631-08:00</updated><title type='text'>painted mangled metal sandwich</title><content type='html'>Either the people of Bozeman are out to kill me or I should take a warning from fate and stay off the roads for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday I was driving to the grocery store when the car in front of me slammed on its brakes and veered into the other lane leaving me to almost run over a large whicker cabinet that had fallen out of the back of somebody's truck. It was a good thing that I was taking it slow (Beth :) or I would have run it )and the guy that was running up to it to get it out of the road) over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday I was driving to work and again the vehicle in front of me came to a hault in the middle of a highway with a speed limit of 65 mph. I was able to slow down and come to a stop all the while praying that the large trucks and SUVs behind me would not rear end me and make me into a Mini-van Legacy SUV sandwich.  Turns out that someone had lost 3 rolls of carpet out of the back of their truck and into the highway... SMART!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I am was on my way home from Michaels (where embarrassingly I had to ask them to hold my items because I left my wallet in my other purse) when I was almost side swiped by a huge black Suburban. It was a good thing I was paying attention and that there was no one in the turning lane because that bugger came within inches of me as I veered away from him. Once again, I could have been the center of a painted mangled metal sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you read this- please send me some positive vibes, say some prayers, or simply speak with fate about the driving situation. Walking to work would take a long long long time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114326191637770563?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114326191637770563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114326191637770563&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114326191637770563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114326191637770563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/03/painted-mangled-metal-sandwich.html' title='painted mangled metal sandwich'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114291306880140846</id><published>2006-03-20T19:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:39.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bored</title><content type='html'>How is it that I am back at school, working, and ...bored...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114291306880140846?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114291306880140846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114291306880140846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114291306880140846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114291306880140846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/03/bored.html' title='bored'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114265504182433312</id><published>2006-03-17T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:39.408-08:00</updated><title type='text'>solidarity</title><content type='html'>I do love to travel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet... I love to return home. There's something about sleeping in my own sheets and cooking in my own kitchen that seems so much more appealing after a jaunt away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it is, as I grow older, I find that traveling becomes not only about exploration and return home with a fresh look at the world and what it means in the broader picture socially and economically... I find it adds meaning and greater appreciation to my little home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114265504182433312?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114265504182433312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114265504182433312&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114265504182433312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114265504182433312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/03/solidarity.html' title='solidarity'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114177070882421306</id><published>2006-03-07T14:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:39.301-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastinating</title><content type='html'>I have a paper to write for tomorrow, a paper to write for Thursday, a speaker tonight and a short paper to write on that topic, a midterm to study for, and a bit of reading to do...all around my part time job and prior to spring break. Believe it or not, I am actually excited about all of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, in this moment, I would rather share an article with you that my sister sent me and two that I have recently read. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have ever heard my story about a cow getting struck by lightning and making the front page of the Helena newspaper and had doubts- you won't after you read this article. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.helenair.com/articles/2006/03/06/montana/a01030606_01.txt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing wrong with that at all. It is better than this article-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.montana.edu/cpa/news/nwview.php?article=3456&amp;pid=2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.montana.edu/cpa/news/nwview.php?article=3447&amp;pid=2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish we lived in a world that had more stories like the first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114177070882421306?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114177070882421306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114177070882421306&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114177070882421306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114177070882421306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/03/procrastinating.html' title='Procrastinating'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114160348695709811</id><published>2006-03-05T15:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:39.171-08:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Strange Things About Me</title><content type='html'>So- duff-- roomie from college has tagged me again------&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, I don't know 5 people out here on blogger. I know 2. 1 is duff and the second is my buddy T-rav who doesn't play as his blog is dedicated to other priorities. Therefore- I will follow rule 1 and 2 but also post this on my myspace account and see if I can get friends there to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here are the rules:&lt;br /&gt;1. thank the person that tagged you.&lt;br /&gt;2. list 5 random/strange/weird things about you.&lt;br /&gt;3. tag 5 other people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracias duff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I have an aversion to chickens and roosters due to a 6 week stint in Eastern Africa (it's a long story).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I seem oddly attracted to men who wear glasses (a discovery that occurred last night while bar hopping with my friend Cassandra – we were picking out men in the bars we found attractive- a high percentage of my male selection wore glasses).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I was walking, talking, and potty trained by 11 mo. What is strange is that I potty trained myself. As soon as I started walking I just climbed on a full size toilet and went. What can I say? I am a take charge kind of gal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I was in London on a 12 hour layover and attempted to make it to a tourist trap but ended up sleeping and hanging out in a random cemetery with my fellow travelers. I have photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. My sister, brother, and I refuse to let go of the annual Easter Egg hunt or our very cool Christmas stalking stuffers (goofy toys and random fun stuff with occasional practical things thrown in) all courtesy of our mother. Every year she hides over 100 plastic Easter Eggs full of candy and pocket change then watches us as we tear through one another for the loot.                                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Note: I will be 30 this year. &lt;br /&gt;            Another note: Our significant others join in the mayhem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114160348695709811?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114160348695709811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114160348695709811&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114160348695709811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114160348695709811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/03/5-strange-things-about-me.html' title='5 Strange Things About Me'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114119442917643838</id><published>2006-02-28T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:39.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Yoga Class</title><content type='html'>I went to my first Yoga class this evening. I had been signed up for it for a month so I thought I should go to it rather than the lecture at the museum on the history of slavery.  I admit that I was torn (I was - I am not joking) and that I really wanted to do both but since technology has not yet developed a useful tool to permit simultaneous physical existence in two locations for very different reasons (video and webcam don't count) I went to Yoga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this moment my only regret is that I did not go sooner and that for the last year I have eaten too many burgers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To end each class there is a five minute relaxation and quieting of the mind. I have not mastered this technique so rather than being blissfully quiet my mind was whispering, "You could become a vegetarian and... was that a dragon or a snake on the arm of that guy that was also having a problem getting into baby's pose?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114119442917643838?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114119442917643838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114119442917643838&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114119442917643838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114119442917643838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-first-yoga-class.html' title='My First Yoga Class'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114075289024848220</id><published>2006-02-23T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:38.917-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading...</title><content type='html'>"Night" by Elie Weisel &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up this book - Night by Elie Wiesel - this afternoon. I needed to read for reading sake. I needed to read without highlighting or writing in margins. I needed to be engulfed in another's life, another's words, another's passion. I needed to feel human for human's sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read this book in one sitting. The tears are still running down my face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114075289024848220?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114075289024848220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114075289024848220&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114075289024848220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114075289024848220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/02/reading.html' title='Reading...'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114065269653376022</id><published>2006-02-22T15:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:38.806-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reason to Celebrate</title><content type='html'>Woo Hoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a part time job here in Bozo! 26 hours a week doing office support work. What does that mean? Filing, data entry, and other tasks as assigned. It works around my school schedule, my gym is on the way home, and now I have a reason to dress up four times a week- I am excited!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114065269653376022?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114065269653376022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114065269653376022&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114065269653376022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114065269653376022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/02/reason-to-celebrate.html' title='Reason to Celebrate'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114049055490469957</id><published>2006-02-20T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:38.691-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Missing Nose</title><content type='html'>Ok... my nose is not missing... not yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I am afraid that I will wake up in the morning and it will be gone. In its place there will be a little yellow sticky note that says, "Sorry, I quit. Good luck!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't be able to blame it for leaving. It is already sloughing off my face due to constant blowing, wiping, and sneezing. Even Puffs with lotion and constant application of face moisturizer fail to provide relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of the physical abuse to my nose I also insulted it on the way to meet friends for lunch today. I looked in the rearview mirror and told it that I was embarrassed to be seen in public with it in its red and flaky condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure that if it could speak my nose would remind me that there are other things more embarrassing. It would remind me that Friday I took a drug test for a part time position at a local company and I had to pee in a cup and give it to a very attractive gentleman who is close to my age and finishing up his degree here on campus. Which means that I will probably run into him again and turn three shades of pink and then stammer all over myself like I did while he tried to make the whole process as funny and painless as possible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If my nose could talk it would probably remind me of all kinds of ways I have made a fool of myself… and possibly tell others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention it would look funny with a mouth. Which leads me to wonder, would a nose need a nose if it could speak?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.........................................Maybe I should lay off the M&amp;Ms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114049055490469957?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114049055490469957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114049055490469957&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114049055490469957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114049055490469957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-missing-nose.html' title='My Missing Nose'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-114015682902827203</id><published>2006-02-16T21:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:38.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny How Life Works...</title><content type='html'>I felt horrible when I woke up this morning. The sore throat and head cold that has been trying to whoop my butt finally won. I slept through my first class and found myself curled in a ball in my bed with only my eyeballs showing from under the blanket. I tried to sleep more but found myself just staring at the wall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got up around noon, ate some cereal, and took a shower. I emailed my professor for my second class and told her I wasn't going to make it but as I lay on the couch I kept thinking about all our deep discussions that we have in that class and I just couldn't stay on the couch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up, changed, and dressed in layers necessary to keep me warm in the single digits with wind chill in the negatives. I went to class. I am so glad I did (even though my breathe froze and created little icicles on my eyelashes on the way there and back)We had a great conversation about soul and ego, soul and story, soul and desire... everyone in the class spoke at least once and we often inspired one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked home with a smile hidden underneath my rainbow scarf thinking that even though I was still sick I was doing much better. The one thing I could use was some chocolate but I didn't have any energy to drive to a store. So, I decided to settle for the chocolate soy milk that was awaiting in my fridge. I checked my mail and to my surprise I had a package from my friends Holly, Monica, and Debbi in Helena. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what- I opened it to find M&amp;M's, sticky gooey rubber hearts(now plastered on my fridge and bathroom mirror) and socks that say "Love" on them along with a card that made me smile and feel loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I indulged myself a bit I called my friend Matt back. He had called when I was in the shower earlier.  He answered- singing my name- lol! We touched base for the first time in years. We talked and laughed for quite awhile until I had to let him go in order to work on a paper (party pooper, I know).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished the paper, emailed some friends, ran some errands, made a necklace for my grandmother's birthday present, bought some gifts for my aunts, and am now sitting here in comfy pants smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how life works...My day had started in the below par range but sky rocketed to one of the best of the week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God for my friends and family... and for the little things like chocolate and cough drops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-114015682902827203?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/114015682902827203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=114015682902827203&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114015682902827203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/114015682902827203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/02/funny-how-life-works.html' title='Funny How Life Works...'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-113987278081260734</id><published>2006-02-13T15:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:37.691-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For Lou Gehrig Fans and Other Interested Parties</title><content type='html'>I received an email from a long lost college buddy whose constructive criticism can still be seen on several of my short stories and poems that are tucked away in folders here and there. She's a great writer who has always been a BIG fan of Lou Gehrig. So, I am not too surprised that she has a book coming out this month about him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, I haven't read it yet but I am sure it will be a great! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go Sara!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-113987278081260734?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/113987278081260734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=113987278081260734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113987278081260734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113987278081260734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/02/for-lou-gehrig-fans-and-other.html' title='For Lou Gehrig Fans and Other Interested Parties'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-113968764804661439</id><published>2006-02-11T11:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:37.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Saturday</title><content type='html'>I finished reading "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down" by Anne Fadiman while doing laundry and cleaning. Now I need to write a paper, finish another book, write another paper, and then work on a study guide.  Somewhere in there I want to go to the gym and I need to go to the grocery store...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Absolutely fascinating- huh?  Yup. I agree. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I can't stay that focused. So I occasionally I do other things like draw, look for part time jobs or check out horoscopes. Yeah- per yahoo horoscopes I am to allow an intense gaze from a new hottie to distract me from my career endeavors and also find a project that serves others while helping my "galvanizing intensity"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I need to get out of the apartment.  I won't be meeting any "new hotties" in the laundry room and the only projects I have are cleaning, beading, and baking so... I better go activity scouting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch out world here I come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(note- I am not denying the fact that I am using the horoscope as an excuse to get out.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-113968764804661439?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/113968764804661439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=113968764804661439&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113968764804661439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113968764804661439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/02/another-saturday.html' title='Another Saturday'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-113860207913131961</id><published>2006-01-29T21:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:37.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese New Year - a dream...</title><content type='html'>I woke this morning shocked to find myself in my little tiny twin bed. In fact, I had been dreaming so vividly that I truly thought I should be in another time and place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized (upon waking) that I was a tiny Asian woman in my dream. I was having an important dinner and wanted to serve the best tea I had to celebrate. So, I pulled out an old antique tea set that was white with red dragons painted on it (note: I really own such a tea set and I was born in the year of the dragon). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As people came to the party they brought me more and more teapots with cups and we continued to fill them and fill the cups on the finely clothed tables for people to drink. At one point I was offered a box with 4 teapots inside. They were glazed in the brightest colors - red, blue, green, and yellow. The woman offering them to me asked if I would like to use one for the special occasion.  I told her to have them all filled and I would share their splendor with everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sipping tea and talking with friends when I was rudely ripped from my party by my alarm clock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, of course, today is the Chinese New Year. Maybe, subconsciously, I had my New Year celebration while dreaming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like my friend, Enid's, interpretation better-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I believe you have been given a blessing. You have many people giving you tea pots and staying to drink tea. You have many friends who enjoy your company and wish to spend time with you. You were given 4 teapots of the traditional colors for China.  Representing not only earth, air, fire, and water but also the arrival at a destination along with a  feeling of satisfaction. You were specifically asked if you wanted to just fill one pot and said.. 'fill them all'.. and then you shared with others. So, you are sharing these blessings. You can also look at it as confirmation that you have chosen correctly in some of your recent decisions." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream surely felt postive and wonderful- and, I am blessed with family and friends whom I love and whose company I enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a Happy Chinese New Year- indeed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-113860207913131961?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/113860207913131961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=113860207913131961&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113860207913131961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113860207913131961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/01/chinese-new-year-dream.html' title='Chinese New Year - a dream...'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-113769907639782263</id><published>2006-01-19T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:37.104-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Fun</title><content type='html'>So, duff has once again challenged me to a game- this time it is the alphabet game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here you go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[A is for age:]&lt;br /&gt;29&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[B is for booze of choice]&lt;br /&gt;Tequila- but I am limited to 1 shot or 2 margaritas because it gets me wild wild wild! I have been told my eyes change color after just one shot. So, Tanqueray gin and tonics do just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[C is for career]&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know if my generation really plans on having only one career.  Currently, I am a career student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[D is for your dog's name:]&lt;br /&gt;Sigh… none at this time. Although I am indirectly an adopted parent for two cats- Tito and Joey as well as two dogs – Baxter and Tina. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[E is for essential items you use everyday:] &lt;br /&gt;deodorant. toothpaste. toothbrush. computer. bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[F is for favorite song at the moment:]&lt;br /&gt;favorite current song- “Six Days” by DJ Shadow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[G is for favorite games:]&lt;br /&gt;scrabble, boggle, balderdash, catch phrase (thanks to Travis)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[H is for hometown:]&lt;br /&gt;born: Helena&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[I is for instruments you play:] &lt;br /&gt;Piano- sort of… long time ago…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[J is for jam or jelly you like]&lt;br /&gt;raspberry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[K is for kids?:]&lt;br /&gt;Undecided. I am still working on getting my poo together. I would have to meet and fall in love with an amazing man. It’s possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[L is for last kiss?:]&lt;br /&gt;My last kiss was the mini candy coated kind and I had it yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[M is for most admired trait:]&lt;br /&gt;sense of humor, humility, and genuine passion and caring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[N is for name of your crush:]&lt;br /&gt;I currently have 2 and neither can be named in this venue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[O is for overnight hospital stays:]&lt;br /&gt;none. *knocks wood*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[P is for phobias:]&lt;br /&gt;claustrophobia, heights, and drowning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Q is for quotes you like:]&lt;br /&gt;“As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” Nelson Mandella&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[R is for biggest regret:]&lt;br /&gt;Any hurt I have caused those that I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[S is for sweets of your choice:]&lt;br /&gt;caramel filled kisses washed down with a diet pepsi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[T is for time you wake up:]&lt;br /&gt;after a cup of coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[U is for underwear:]&lt;br /&gt;on guys- boxers or boxer briefs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[V is for vegetable you love:].&lt;br /&gt;Artichokes and asparagus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[W is for worst habit:]&lt;br /&gt;fretting about that which I can not control&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[X is for x-rays you've had:]&lt;br /&gt;teeth and a toe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Y is for yummy food you make:]&lt;br /&gt;tequila-lime chicken, chicken fajitas, homemade chili with a kick, killer tuna melt, rock’n cheese dip, and pretty much anything in the baking realm- brownies, cake, cookies, muffins- you name it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Z is for zodiac sign:]&lt;br /&gt;scorpio and dragon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you have it- some gory details about me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-113769907639782263?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/113769907639782263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=113769907639782263&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113769907639782263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113769907639782263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/01/something-fun.html' title='Something Fun'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-113738131867961566</id><published>2006-01-15T19:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:36.985-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A different kind of love machine...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I posted these same thoughts to my My Space account today. Can you forgive me this once for cheating?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? We got it good. I got it good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, family, loved ones... heat, food, clothes...a roof overhead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw something today that I have not seen before. Outside of the giant consumer conglomerate Wal Mart there sat a blue and green 70's van with a big sign that said, "Mobile Soup Kitchen." Around the van and in the snow there were several lawn chairs with people sitting in them. Their bags were here and there on the ground and their hands were wrapped around steaming cups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered a conversation I had yesterday as I drove by with my two bags of items- not all necessities- sitting in the seat beside me. A friend and I had left another consumer conglomerate, Target, and passed a gentleman sitting at the corner asking for money.  We discussed our guilt and called ourselves names for each time we just drove by without giving. But we also talked about praying for them and the times we bought coffee or food for someone on a corner and they were either grateful or disdainful- even turning down the food or drink while stating that they wanted money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This van presented me with a new look at the street corners of capitalism. Someone, perhaps like my friend and I, had decided not to drive&lt;em&gt; by&lt;/em&gt; but instead drive &lt;em&gt;to&lt;/em&gt; these folks and offer them a hot meal along with momentary companionship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I returned home I prayed. I asked God to bless each and everyone around that van and then thanked Him for everything He has given me in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I wondered, is there a mobile soup kitchen in Helena? Shouldn't every city have one? Couldn't churches and other community organizations band together to support one or two vans in each locale depending on its demographics?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-113738131867961566?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/113738131867961566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=113738131867961566&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113738131867961566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113738131867961566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2006/01/different-kind-of-love-machine.html' title='A different kind of love machine...'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-113558453922986624</id><published>2005-12-25T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:36.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flamingos and Penguins</title><content type='html'>Christmas day 2005 is coming to a close and January of 2006 is coming up with a fervor none of us can quell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I? I have found myself sleeping, once again, in the bed that was given to me after I earned the right to move out of the crib. I am sitting atop the twin bed with a cat curled at my feet. Mismatching blankets are half-hazardly thrown about so that my bare feet can seek them out if necessary and my pillows are mostly squished between the little bed and the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The white and pink antiqued bed once wore a white ruffled bedspread and sat in a room with pink carpet, pink walls, and matching curtains.  It's whites and pinks have since been worn off in places. The headboard has fingernail polish and a pink X on it. As a child (a little blonde girl, who wore dresses and tights as often as I could) I tried to repair some of the cracking in the paint with white nail polish (it didn't work). Many years later the pink X came home as a black mark on my hand to show that I was under 21 and could not drink while watching The Urge, MU330, 311 and many other bands in cramped bars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stories this bedroom set could tell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit here I wonder what kind of advice these pieces would give me if they could. They have known me. They have survived my wear and tear, seen me cry, held my things, and heard my prayers. Would I be different if they could have spoken up and said something all these years? Should I have been someone different?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I sit here- I think they would say, "Charity, flamingos can't be penguins. Nor can penguins be flamingos. Nor would they want to be."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I laugh. And smile. And even tear up a bit because the next thing that comes to mind is "a foot can not be a hand" and I get up and go to a book shelf. I eventually find it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Now the body is not made up of one part but of many. If the foot should say, "Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. And if the ear should say, "Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body," it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be.&lt;br /&gt;-1 Corinthians 12:14-18&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I go to sleep in this old and tiny twin bed with the cat still at my feet I know - flamingo or penguin/hand or foot - He designed me just as He wanted me to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-113558453922986624?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/113558453922986624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=113558453922986624&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113558453922986624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113558453922986624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2005/12/flamingos-and-penguins.html' title='Flamingos and Penguins'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-113470711248680656</id><published>2005-12-15T19:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:36.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Las Posadas</title><content type='html'>How important are rituals and traditions to a culture or society?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been reading a refreshing magazine called &lt;a href="http://www.yesmagazine.org/default.asp"&gt;Yes &lt;/a&gt;for awhile now. Their motto is "Supporting you in creating a more just, sustainable, and compassionate world". The &lt;a href="http://www.yesmagazine.org/default.asp?ID=157"&gt;Winter 2006 Issue&lt;/a&gt; is called Spiritual Uprising and I would like to share one article that, I think, is an example of a positive tradition that teaches positive ethics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the spirit of the season, please read "&lt;a href="http://www.yesmagazine.org/article.asp?ID=1337"&gt;A Stranger at the Door&lt;/a&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you reach out to someone in need this Christmas...and may someone reach out to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-113470711248680656?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/113470711248680656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=113470711248680656&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113470711248680656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113470711248680656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2005/12/las-posadas.html' title='Las Posadas'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-113436228265462542</id><published>2005-12-11T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:36.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Got "Tagged"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://duffsrandommusings.blogspot.com/"&gt;duff&lt;/a&gt;, a very cool roomie from college, tagged me on her blog to answer a few questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High Fives All Around- here I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 years ago: I won a Silver Key in Art from the Kansas City Art Institute and a scholarship to study art at a university in Missouri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 years ago: I was the President of a creative writing club at college, was preparing my short stories and poetry for a senior reading on campus, and exploring the possibility of an undergraduate research project on sustainable development in Kenya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One year ago: I was at a Christmas party wrapping presents for a family at a homeless shelter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday: I wrote a long and cynical email to a friend concerning the movie Syriana and current politics. Poor guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Snacks I Enjoy:&lt;br /&gt;1. Boneless Hot Wings&lt;br /&gt;2. Corn Chips and Rotel Velveeta Cheese Dip&lt;br /&gt;3. Popcorn&lt;br /&gt;4. Chocolate Covered Cashews&lt;br /&gt;5. M&amp;amp;Ms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Songs to Which I Know All the Words&lt;br /&gt;1. "Harder to Breathe" Maroon Five&lt;br /&gt;2. "God Put a Smile Upon Your Face" Coldplay&lt;br /&gt;3. "Where the Streets Have No Name" U2&lt;br /&gt;4. "Given to Fly" Pearl Jam&lt;br /&gt;5. "Crucify" Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Things I Would Do With $100 Million&lt;br /&gt;1. Invest&lt;br /&gt;2. Start a nonprofit for the uninsured&lt;br /&gt;3. Pay off my parent's houses (they are divorced and have different spouses)&lt;br /&gt;4. Buy myself a place close to the ocean, mountains, and a university&lt;br /&gt;5. Travel- mission trips and pleasure/leisure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Places To Run Away:&lt;br /&gt;1. Montana (always)&lt;br /&gt;2. Zanzibar (in times of peace)&lt;br /&gt;3. Jessica's (anywhere she may be at that time)&lt;br /&gt;4. Kansas City (got room on the couch bro?)&lt;br /&gt;5. A cabin in the mountains by a body of water alone or with significant other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Bad Habits&lt;br /&gt;1. self-doubt&lt;br /&gt;2. running away from love&lt;br /&gt;3. stubborn&lt;br /&gt;4. making assumptions&lt;br /&gt;5. putting other people first to the point of not taking care of myself (sister advised me of this)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Things I Like Doing&lt;br /&gt;1. Writing&lt;br /&gt;2. Traveling/roadtrips&lt;br /&gt;3. Reading&lt;br /&gt;4. Hiking&lt;br /&gt;5. Creating (photos, pottery, etc)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Things I Would Never Wear&lt;br /&gt;1.Tight leather pants (chaps are a maybe)&lt;br /&gt;2. Studded collar&lt;br /&gt;3. Military fatigues&lt;br /&gt;4. String bikini&lt;br /&gt;5. Big Johnson T-shirts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Favorite TV Shows&lt;br /&gt;1. CSI's&lt;br /&gt;2. Law and Orders&lt;br /&gt;3. That 70's Show&lt;br /&gt;4. Forensic Files&lt;br /&gt;5. Sex and the City&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Favorite Toys (I am going for the G version)&lt;br /&gt;1. clay&lt;br /&gt;2. laptop&lt;br /&gt;3. beads and jewelry making items&lt;br /&gt;4. camera&lt;br /&gt;5. toastmaster mini electric food chopper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for tagging others... I don't know if &lt;a href="http://www.travisnorton.blogspot.com/"&gt;Travis&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://klhiestermanmp520.blogspot.com/"&gt;Katrina&lt;/a&gt; will play but I will see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-113436228265462542?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/113436228265462542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=113436228265462542&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113436228265462542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113436228265462542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2005/12/got-tagged.html' title='Got &quot;Tagged&quot;'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-113167792006499490</id><published>2005-11-10T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:36.022-08:00</updated><title type='text'>crack'n open the books</title><content type='html'>I have an addiction to books. I tend to intermittenly read a poetry book, a literature book, a true crime, and something political or educational all at the same time. Which one I pick up at night usually depends on my mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of late, my mood has returned to my educational background of Geography. A friend recommended Jared Diamond's "Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the link &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0670033375/002-7418987-6618468?v=glance&amp;n=283155&amp;amp;amp;amp;v=glance"&gt;http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0670033375/002-7418987-6618468?v=glance&amp;n=283155&amp;amp;amp;amp;v=glance&lt;/a&gt; to see the book at Amazon or if you are interested in a more complete article check out here &lt;a href="http://www.grist.org/advice/books/2005/02/08/kavanagh-collapse/"&gt;http://www.grist.org/advice/books/2005/02/08/kavanagh-collapse/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am only on chapter one (always read intros) and I am intrigued. I have a feeling I will post more indepth thoughts concerning the content soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have read this or are reading this- let me know what you think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-113167792006499490?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0670033375/002-7418987-6618468?v=glance&amp;n=283155&amp;v=glance' title='crack&apos;n open the books'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/113167792006499490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=113167792006499490&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113167792006499490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113167792006499490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2005/11/crackn-open-books.html' title='crack&apos;n open the books'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-112883459766162095</id><published>2005-10-08T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:35.362-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wine-O</title><content type='html'>Thursday was my sister's birthday and per a tradition (started last year) we will celebrate for a full week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night one consisted of dinner with my mother's side of the family. My grandfather is back on the wagon, so we were joined by he and his wife at a rock'n northwestern pizza place on Wednesday. Thursday was spent eating a quaint dinner with my father's side of the family at his home.  Friday, we ran like crazy people through a corn maze in the dark while carrying glow sticks. We entered Maze 1 and exited through the Maze 2 entrance... not the maze 1 or 2 Exits, mind you... complete blast! Yes, we were sober~! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight it was steak, lobster, twice baked potatoes and 6 bottles of wine followed by a philosophical discussion about good and evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can they exist separately or do they need to exist simultaneously- yin/yang?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the hot tub... awwwww... as I sat in bubbly heat and stared at the stars I wondered, should I tell someone something that I have been holding back for a year?  Yes, so and so, I had a dream about you a year ago. I was laying my head on your chest while you read me poetry and then we kissed.  Nothing triple X. Yet, I freaked out because I didn't have feelings up to that point. So, I introduced you to a cute friend, hoped that you would hit it off, ditched any mutual activities, and bit my tongue...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One should not bare their soul over electronic media to the broad spectrum of humanity. Strangers glimpse into hearts not yet examined by those closest to us....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I will still hit publish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that good or evil?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or just the wine talking?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-112883459766162095?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/112883459766162095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=112883459766162095&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/112883459766162095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/112883459766162095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2005/10/wine-o.html' title='Wine-O'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-112676354850149601</id><published>2005-09-14T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:35.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Temperature Variance</title><content type='html'>I admit, I have been slacking on the blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beginners block?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or am I being seduced away from my laptop by the inklings of Fall?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No worries, duff, the laptop has not acquired a name-yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the deep questions~ you are right, dagesh, we do need to be more responsible about who and what we support with our money and our actions. However, too often we don't have all the information to make a fully educated decision.  I fear, as drm2b put so eloquently, I am in the "educated just enough to be dangerous" category.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am going to slip out into the cold and smell the night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-112676354850149601?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/112676354850149601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=112676354850149601&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/112676354850149601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/112676354850149601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2005/09/temperature-variance.html' title='Temperature Variance'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-112526373803739696</id><published>2005-08-28T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:35.068-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Afternoon Pondering</title><content type='html'>It's 2:30pm and I am still in my purple comfy pants drinking coffee and absorbing sunlight.  My sheets are hanging on the line and my work clothes are begging to be washed. I could get up and take care of them- but no, I am here with the closest thing I have to a boyfriend at the moment- my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does that say about me? Is it wrong that I am thinking about naming my laptop as soon as I decide if it is a he or a she?  Sanchez or Mia? Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I contemplate my attachment to technology and if I need to seek professional help for some disorder I receive a text message over my cell from a friend who is currently at her second job at a local gym. She says, "I just had a guy preach to me that hurricane Katrina is God's judgement on America..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear.  Shall I even go here? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.  I will just ask this question- Technology and Globalization in the Information Age- Tools to bring us closer or weapons to widen the gaps between the haves and have nots, the educated and the ignorant, the left and the right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Undoubtedly, it isn't that simple- but, what do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-112526373803739696?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/112526373803739696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=112526373803739696&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/112526373803739696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/112526373803739696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2005/08/sunday-afternoon-pondering.html' title='Sunday Afternoon Pondering'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15897168.post-113133712280193297</id><published>2005-08-27T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:16:35.789-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mini me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3107/852/1600/peaceme2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3107/852/200/peaceme2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15897168-113133712280193297?l=writteninchalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/feeds/113133712280193297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15897168&amp;postID=113133712280193297&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113133712280193297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15897168/posts/default/113133712280193297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writteninchalk.blogspot.com/2005/08/mini-me.html' title='mini me'/><author><name>ladymwende</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02729040946640231874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7p_n2EY03Ys/TF38ourSfpI/AAAAAAAAAE8/eUDfu5Nl_6I/S220/Bethany%27s+pre+and+post+wedding+photos+133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
