tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50129828459400639252024-03-05T04:37:22.464-06:00Bassic LivingThe BASSICS of life must include creativity! RE: Vintage Altered Art Creativity Scrapbooking LDS Mormon Marie Antoinette Frisco Texas TX Dallas Art Photoshop Digital Scrapbook Digital Art 18th Century Dallas Cackling Poultry Guns Paper Cowgirl Cosmos Carey Bass Cheryl Carey Graphics Clipart Photography Antique Estate Sale Old Paris French Genealogy Family History Central High School Springfield Missouri Creative Jewelry Hand-Made Homemade Card Lace Tattered Sommerset Magazine Crafty SecretsCheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-14505586934965784062012-06-28T11:22:00.001-05:002012-06-28T11:22:39.359-05:00New Shoes Make You Run Faster! Really!I don't actually feel any guilt this time for not having posted in so long. I didn't have anything I felt compelled to say. And that's ok. Sometimes just living and enjoying is enough.<br />
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What spurs me into action today, however, is my new pair of Nike running shoes. Now, if you know me at all, you know I am NOT a runner. Heck, I'm barely a walker - but I'm trying to get better at that. With that being said, I needed a new pair of shoes to walk in. So, I shopped and shopped until I found this lovely black and purple pair (I call them my walking bruises). They are comfortable and not exorbitantly priced (as I don't like spending money unless I have to!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXxnV2gHU-u4Xno8cj7ih93M-pwxQZSX7sqSZwHOZXNye0U5jflnecc4vZP1VOwhhX5Gfb4Ki5Sd-5jYBMyvdnSMQR5SQzRCfOTfL4qOLZiklaN7CwMR7J1G93BjKCIegurF3f2D7rvbGq/s1600/Nike+06.2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXxnV2gHU-u4Xno8cj7ih93M-pwxQZSX7sqSZwHOZXNye0U5jflnecc4vZP1VOwhhX5Gfb4Ki5Sd-5jYBMyvdnSMQR5SQzRCfOTfL4qOLZiklaN7CwMR7J1G93BjKCIegurF3f2D7rvbGq/s400/Nike+06.2012.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I tried on several different shoes of differing brands, but in the end, I chose this pair. It just so happened that they were Nike brand. And that's what got me to thinking...<br />
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During my freshman year at college (BYU in Provo, UT), though I was thrilled to be there and made many amazing new friends, I got lonely sometimes. In retrospect, part of the problem was that I was suffering from undiagnosed depression (thank you, Prozac, for my happiness now). At that time, without the assistance of medication, the feelings of depression and discouragement were very real and very strong.<br />
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One particular night, I remember walking around on campus feeling sad and alone. In retrospect, I see how many wonderful friends I had who would have gladly talked with me, had I given them the chance to really know what I was going through. As I walked, I came upon a slightly sloping hillside near the carillon bell tower. It was dark in this area and I found a grassy spot to sit down. As I sat there crying (I didn't want to do this in my dorm room and risk my roommate or others knowing), I started praying for comfort. For me, prayer has long-since been a source of comfort and strength. After pouring my heart out to my Heavenly Father, I sat and just waited. I waited to see if He would help me feel better. I waited to see how He would give me strength to endure. In my MIND, I knew things would get better (the past had shown this pattern), but my HEART felt overwhelmed and in such pain.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjqD_2CrjJX9hsv-1NtCo60uYBFPUaE46-CbS4-KwMIQipapRGvp9M5D5P3VG0feO4LavW0WBvVAJCGJHxkxsXuow1rx6Ef9LR_KcXSo6FKEhsh6qXmp3uI1gvMuBUKgg_hGtAHCRCbQ1E/s1600/BYU+Carillon+Bell+Tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjqD_2CrjJX9hsv-1NtCo60uYBFPUaE46-CbS4-KwMIQipapRGvp9M5D5P3VG0feO4LavW0WBvVAJCGJHxkxsXuow1rx6Ef9LR_KcXSo6FKEhsh6qXmp3uI1gvMuBUKgg_hGtAHCRCbQ1E/s400/BYU+Carillon+Bell+Tower.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brigham Young University, Provo UT, Carillon Bell Tower<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Several minutes passed. I continued to sit in the darkness, waiting. Waiting for something, anything, to bring me a moment of peace. And then the comfort came. It came via my new Nike shoes.</span><br />
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You see, as I've mentioned on several occas<span style="background-color: white;">ions, I came from a very poor family. With an alcoholic dad who had difficulty keeping any kind of job, and seven kids in the family, we never had much. However, because they loved me so much, my parents took time off from work to drive me from our Missouri home to Utah for my first year away. We camped much along the way and saw Mt Rushmore, Yellowstone, and many other great US landmarks. </span><br />
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After having moved me and my meager belongings into my dorm room, <span style="background-color: white;">the time came for my family to say goodbye. </span><span style="background-color: white;">I became very nervous. All of a sudden it hit me that I was going to be completely alone. I did not know a SINGLE person in my new surroundings. I felt the emotions that any 18 year old feels at leaving home for the first time. I was especially worried about missing my mom, as she was my best friend and had already helped me through so many rough patches in life. I remember how I teared up and felt this big knot in my stomach at having to say goodbye. </span><span style="background-color: white;">After I had hugged the siblings, and then my sweet, brave, strong mother, my dad came to give me the last hug. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Now, I've never made it a secret that my dad and I have had a troublesome relationship. We're probably too much alike for our own good. But, there were times throughout my life when we were able to be close and share special moments, and this was one of them. He hugged me so tightly and kissed my cheek again and again (something that had aggravated me in the past, but was so welcome in that moment.) He whispered encouraging and loving words in my ear and told me he was proud of me. And then, he slipped me a $50 bill. He said, "You might need this for something, or just for fun." I didn't want to take the money. I knew how scarce money was in our family, and I also realized it must've taken so much for our family to have been able to take this vacation to Utah. But, as typical dad, he wouldn't let me give it back.</span><br />
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Needless to say, I did ok. I made lots of friends and loved my new surroundings. This was definitely "the place" for me. But, that didn't mean there weren't occasionally hard days, like that day.<br />
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So, as I sat in the darkness, on that lonely hillside, waiting for something to lighten my heart, I heard a familiar church hymn come through my mind. The lyrics of the first verse go, "When upon life's billows you are tempest tossed; when you are discouraged thinking all is lost; count your many blessings, name them one by one, and it will surprise you what the Lord hath done." "Ok", I thought, "I should count my blessings. That's what I should do." But, as I sat there, feeling miserable and depressed, I couldn't for the life of me think of any blessings (not that they weren't abundantly there, but that I was too depressed to think of them). Feeling even more miserable for not being able to think of blessings, I just looked down and began to cry again. And then, like a lightbulb, it hit me! Looking down, I saw my new pair of Nike shoes. <br />
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You see, now that I was at college, I was WALKING everywhere! My old shoes were not up to par for this amount of walking and I had needed a new pair. I didn't have money for new shoes. But, then I remembered the $50 my dad had given me a few weeks prior when they had dropped me off. I had put it away for a "rainy day". If the amount of tears falling from my eyes didn't constitute a rainy day, I didn't know of much else that would. So, I had taken that $50 and bought me the best new pair of shoes I had ever owned in my life, a pair of Nike running shoes. They had served me wonderfully! <br />
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As I looked down at those wonderful shoes I had worn every day since I'd purchased them, in an effort to count my blessings, I said to myself, "Well, at least I have new shoes." That thought was all I could come up with at the moment. But then, a few moments later, I remembered WHY I had those shoes. I would not have been able to have such a nice pair of shoes to walk all over campus, had it not been for my parents and their sacrifices for me. Being thankful for my shoes led me to my next grateful thought, one that filled my heart and began to let the light shine inside again, "My parents love me. They really love me." <br />
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From that thought, I was able to feel lighter by the minute. One thought led to another and I was able to think of SO many things of which I had to be grateful. Pretty soon I was smiling instead of crying. I was blessed with comfort and peace in answer to my heavenly pleas.<br />
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So, now, it's 2012 - twenty years from when I started college and had that experience. My dad passed away last year. But, what a blessing this experience has been in my life. As I have continued to struggle with depression on and off throughout my life, this experience has often come to the forefront of my mind and given me strength and encouragement that things would get better. And, they always have.<br />
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Now, whenever I see a nice, new pair of Nike shoes (especially when they are on MY feet), I am filled with such gratitude. I am reminded of parents who love me, who have sacrificed more than I'll ever know so that I could have a better life. I am reminded of the hard times I've endured, but that God has always helped me get through them. I am reminded that sometimes the smallest, most seemingly trivial things (shoes) can mean so much. There's a saying that goes, "The door to history turns on small hinges." I love that saying because it is SO true. Every kind act, every small deed, every loving word can literally change a person's life. That pair of Nike shoes changed mine. It helped me stay the path I had chosen. Instead of giving up and moving back home, I was given strength to endure, but not just endure, to flourish! <br />
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Does life still have it's ups and downs? You bet it does! But, I'm thankful today for my new shoes and how much they remind me of the paths I've walked and the people who have helped me along the way. <br />
<br />Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-49666935238646156172012-02-02T18:54:00.002-06:002012-02-02T19:03:06.872-06:00Silencing the ToadI don't know what's up, but the last couple of weeks I've been fighting off some feelings of discouragement. Now, don't be alarmed. Thankfully, it's been over a year now since I got my meds adjusted and was able to leave a 2 year depression behind. I'm not depressed like that (and so thankful!) But, sometimes, every once in a while, despite how ridiculously BLESSED I am, I get a little discouraged. <br />
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I have dreams. I think most people have dreams. Some people are actively living theirs, others are working toward them, some are just aware, and a few may not even know of them. But they are there. Dreams are there, buried deep, deep in the innermost tiny back closet of one's heart. They may be locked so tightly and bound with the strongest chains, but they DO exist. To dream is to be human. If not for hoping for something better for ourselves, our families, our world, then there would be little point in existence.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOx5XOdjpPj_n3b0HHF8CMIzxaZ5_tBe4quUJzJQC3WMD4sdBV7Y9i9WUIvdmY77AyfxAWoZ-_9Fg_kyWTgNw41PHOFDNfzXTGZD6gx_pZcsv4HtkZTr4FpnbuYsRc7vj4DpvFjNxNSDGe/s1600/chained+heart+door.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOx5XOdjpPj_n3b0HHF8CMIzxaZ5_tBe4quUJzJQC3WMD4sdBV7Y9i9WUIvdmY77AyfxAWoZ-_9Fg_kyWTgNw41PHOFDNfzXTGZD6gx_pZcsv4HtkZTr4FpnbuYsRc7vj4DpvFjNxNSDGe/s400/chained+heart+door.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://garelito-photos.deviantart.com/art/Chained-Heart-214323581" target="_blank">Garelito Photos</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>So, even though I used to actively try NOT to dream (it was too disappointing to do so), over the last several years I've allowed myself to believe a little bit again. Bullied by life's rough school of knocks, I learned to armor myself against the hurt of failure, disappointment, and loss. I didn't have the tools to handle these feelings that seemed an ever-present reality. But now, now I've grown some. I have a loving and kind husband who teaches me that there IS a reason to hold out hope - despite whatever odds one may feel she is facing. I have been blessed with kind and caring friends who have helped open my heart to art, and in doing so have inadvertently opened a door of vulnerability and rawness - both of which are necessary (in my humble opinion) to live creatively. Now, though I still struggle and am far from where I'd like to be, I have more coping skills for dealing with those failures, disappointments, and losses. Part of living a creative life (though admittedly, only part time), means learning to love the beauty in nearly everything; learning to accept flaws as part of the completed project, and having joy in the creation rather than just the finished product. That doesn't apply to just art itself, but the very essence of living. I have learned to be a little more gentle with myself, to accept my weaknesses. No, not just accept them -but almost embrace them - for they make me who I am, for better or worse.<br />
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All that being said, I've still been fighting off discouragement. I feel alone in so many ways. I want to have a child(ren) someday. I'm 38 and I may not get to. I may even get too old to adopt a child. And, even if I did/do, I'm going to be in SUCH a different place than my peers. Most people my age have children in at least their teens, and some even entering college this year. I haven't even begun. If I adopt by the time I'm 40, I'll be nearly 60 by the time that child is graduating high school. Imagine a 50 year old at "Mom's Club" with a bunch of early twenty to thirty year-olds. I'm going to be the oddball, just as I am now.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGMpRR0ARTPHL7CgyXpDK_mjlLFhgvSWBI45mzWEneL6UJ3lYjn9_zF4eeG83EWUoOX0a-k6N5eTJPAaP6MJ154jP4HLjzUzqB2c_TIrrUHUI7OhCzKyT0Fxdg9Z4LpTiCLSgGkxtoDZI/s1600/dream+big.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGMpRR0ARTPHL7CgyXpDK_mjlLFhgvSWBI45mzWEneL6UJ3lYjn9_zF4eeG83EWUoOX0a-k6N5eTJPAaP6MJ154jP4HLjzUzqB2c_TIrrUHUI7OhCzKyT0Fxdg9Z4LpTiCLSgGkxtoDZI/s400/dream+big.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://diaryofanunfinishedwoman.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Bernadette Darnell</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I feel alone because most of my friends have families that take up the majority of their time. I understand and heartily agree that family comes first. But, at the same time, I often feel like they are too busy with their lives to have time for me. I love my husband, but he is quite the introvert and I often seek outside friendships to help fill the conversational void. Besides, even the best husband can't do what a good girlfriend or two can. It's a special bond that women share.<br />
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Because I am outgoing (more extroverted by nature), I tend to be the one to invite others and get the ball rolling. I'm the planner, the organizer. I get it. If you're introverted, planning a get-together is akin to getting a tooth pulled. I try to remember that. But sometimes, especially lately for some reason, I just want someone else to put forth the effort. I don't want to be the one who always initiates things. I want to feel like others want to have ME in THEIR lives. But again, because my dreams are slow to fruition, I'm in a different place than them, and I can't fault them their busy-ness. I would likely be the same, if I were a mother.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-NvnScabc6ptPasFf47u6hdDBhEVzuni4FE6zuGylHCI5KjfASRbBe_Bh1vW-AkvISZLn1hQchOyACoDcUtDUUvhpz2TUqjjVrCRZ6gNg0E4tdqDoy8xwTSx_F9I62fgrhUMhwFCowVL3/s1600/Heart+Words.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-NvnScabc6ptPasFf47u6hdDBhEVzuni4FE6zuGylHCI5KjfASRbBe_Bh1vW-AkvISZLn1hQchOyACoDcUtDUUvhpz2TUqjjVrCRZ6gNg0E4tdqDoy8xwTSx_F9I62fgrhUMhwFCowVL3/s400/Heart+Words.jpg" width="306" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://diaryofanunfinishedwoman.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Bernadette Darnell</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>So, that's where I am. I'm backwards from my peers. It gets lonely sometimes. Discouragement knocks. But, I must use the tools I've tried to develop to fight back - to remember that I DO matter, if to no one else, at least to my husband. I know it'll get better. It's just a temporary feeling. My happiness and zest will come back to me soon. I'm HOPING, anyway. Because, that's who I am now - I'm a person who hopes and dreams. I have unlocked my heart and I will push away the doubts and fears and keep trying to live a creative life, complete with blemishes, mess-ups, re-dos. One day my life's work may be the beautiful piece I envision it can be.<br />
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p.s. To those who read my blog - this is not an attempt to garner sympathy or "Oh, but we do love you"s. The blogging is for me to be REAL and PRESENT. It's for me - part of MY way of living a creative life.Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-42873991284891790532011-11-25T15:50:00.000-06:002011-11-25T15:50:39.169-06:00I'll See Him AgainIt's been a little over two months since my dad passed away. All the details have been taken care of, and the memorial service has come and gone.<br />
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And today, today is the day I finally cried. I didn't expect it. All the while when everyone asked me how I was doing, I kept saying, "I'm okay. I'm happy for him because I know he's in a better place." I didn't feel sadness because I understood that he would no longer have to be imprisoned by his mortal body. <br />
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But today, I do feel sad. Maybe it's the fact that Thanksgiving was yesterday. I don't know. I was just sitting at my desk working and some thought must've slipped through my subconscious. Next thing I know I'm sitting here bawling like a baby.<br />
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Usually, I'm pretty in touch with my feelings. When I feel things, I usually know why. I know this feeling of sadness that just overcame me is about my dad's passing, but I don't understand why <b><i>now</i></b>. <br />
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I'm sad for my dad's life. I wish I could've been stronger for him. I wish I could've been more patient, less judgmental, better at letting things roll off my back. I get my stubborn nature from him; but unfortunately, it caused us to often be at odds with one another. I don't regret my relationship with him. I did the best I could. He did the best he could. But, sometimes people doing the best they know how, doesn't necessarily mean things work out as we think they should.<br />
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I am sad that dad had such a HARD, HARD life. One of the things about him, though, is that he never quit. Sometimes he'd go off track a bit, but he never quit. He always kept trying to do better, to be better. I wish that he would've had as much happiness as the effort he put into TRYING.<br />
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Looking back, it's no lie that there were some really hard times having him for a dad. But that's not what I think of now. Now, I think of all the GOOD things he did and all the LOVE that he had for us. I think of how he kept trying to be a better husband, a better father, a better person. I wish he could have felt more success. I wish I could've been able to applaud his efforts more and judge his weakness less.<br />
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I'm thankful to know that God lives. I'm thankful to know that Jesus Christ came to redeem the world and because of the laying down of his life, we will all be able to live again. I'm thankful that I know that my dad's spirit is alive now and that he can be free from mortal pain and sorrow. I know that my dad forgives me for my weakness in loving him. I know, because that's how he is. Just as Jesus loves us, dad would rather have taken any sadness or sorrow upon himself than to have any one of his children experience it. <br />
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I'm sure that when I see my dad again, we might still butt heads. It's not like dying makes us perfect. But, I hope, that I will have grown stronger, that I will have learned to be more <a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/alma/13?lang=eng&query=humble+meek+submissive" target="_blank">humble, meek, submissive, patient, full of love and all long-suffering</a>. I hope that I can love him better.Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-19048866623629163302011-11-15T19:03:00.001-06:002011-11-15T19:03:00.310-06:00When You Least Expect ItI'm thankful for a wonderful, kind, gentle husband. As I've mentioned, I grew up with an alcoholic dad. While not all alcoholics are violent or abusive, my dad had some, shall we say, "anger issues". Like most other little girls, I dreamed of growing up, marrying a wonderful husband, and having many babies. But, with my dad as the primary male role model in my life, I didn't hold out much hope for the "wonderful husband" part. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRJ92vq9HvYnzNSmNitrXJUq_Y8QJgUHsdlOGs4ueOkTR5W3IUvZznaLr6kkCy8Yf3cytLokaet7UebHL76ep31yVDbJeARS7sYkNWHodjMjuSFhRaOuq1idyUhtt97hGO7KmHF5S6C94Z/s1600/engagement+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRJ92vq9HvYnzNSmNitrXJUq_Y8QJgUHsdlOGs4ueOkTR5W3IUvZznaLr6kkCy8Yf3cytLokaet7UebHL76ep31yVDbJeARS7sYkNWHodjMjuSFhRaOuq1idyUhtt97hGO7KmHF5S6C94Z/s400/engagement+018.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Engagement Photo</div><br />
Then I grew up. Or, I grew up some, anyway. I went off to college and began to have many wonderful experiences. I learned all kinds of new things, made new friends, and even dated a bit. I was thrilled to find that there were many different types of men in the world. I became convinced I would find the "perfect" guy and live "happily ever after."<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS9EYHnT6kTDbX2zrEinOvTizIZQVhzEWhHL6QPKp7p0Bw7Iz3IIK8TygiI6CJmUN65DPgwBWFAKLah9kR9Hm14tZoss6QUMJXcUfxTugfcdMzQIfoU8U6wSINWBkwhbb-puASsJNnHc53/s1600/The+Sweetest+Kiss+2004+CB+copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS9EYHnT6kTDbX2zrEinOvTizIZQVhzEWhHL6QPKp7p0Bw7Iz3IIK8TygiI6CJmUN65DPgwBWFAKLah9kR9Hm14tZoss6QUMJXcUfxTugfcdMzQIfoU8U6wSINWBkwhbb-puASsJNnHc53/s400/The+Sweetest+Kiss+2004+CB+copy.png" width="326" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Kiss</div><br />
Then I grew up some more. When I was 21, I took the opportunity to serve as a missionary for <a href="http://mormon.org/people/find/" target="_blank">The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints</a>. While a missionary, I became fluent in Spanish and was able to continue to use my newfound skills when I moved to Texas in the Fall of 1999. By the time I was 30, I had managed to not only elude marriage, but find myself a degree and a career. I became a bilingual social worker.<br />
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As you know, social workers don't make a lot. The average salary of a social worker is about on par with that of a school teacher. But, I was on my own, paying my own way, had my own apartment, etc. I made friends, but many of them got married. At one point I found myself pretty alone. Not only that, but I got fired from my job for a mistake I had made. It was not a pretty time in my life. I got internet service in my apartment so I could look for jobs online without having to go to the library to use the computer there. I spent HOURS every day combing the classifieds. After only a few days of this, I hit a pretty bad low. I knew something had to change, and soon! I decided I needed to try to make new friends. For this reason, and ONLY this reason, I decided to join a singles site. I know, I know, it sounds like I was looking for a relationship. But, I really and truly wasn't. I just wanted to make friends so I wasn't so isolated.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnBWQXCHvo6SLEXHUlfjucgCH-wX4bS3kyiXgIErZHOcP54NODTIjEOeOwrrd8be5bIA8citbdO3l6mqSvxJhQRgOQXJSaxsz59gd8oALk2k7P1NrtZpsgX67jd7-olcw9ZWRg8V8W5el/s1600/wedding+b%2526w+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnBWQXCHvo6SLEXHUlfjucgCH-wX4bS3kyiXgIErZHOcP54NODTIjEOeOwrrd8be5bIA8citbdO3l6mqSvxJhQRgOQXJSaxsz59gd8oALk2k7P1NrtZpsgX67jd7-olcw9ZWRg8V8W5el/s400/wedding+b%2526w+027.JPG" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Wedding Day</div><br />
People always say it happens when you least expect it. Which, I always found to be silly. I mean, when you get to a certain point in your life, you know the next step is to find the right person, settle down and have a family (If that's the life path you choose.) I wanted that, too. When I was a kid, I thought I'd get married at age 19 like my mom. I never intended to be single at 30. But, that is where I was. And, admittedly, from the age of about 26 or so, I kept looking around every corner thinking that surely IT would happen. But, when it didn't, I finally had to accept the fact that I might never get married. I had to learn to be okay with that. And, I did. Through lots of prayer (and long discussions with my mom), I accepted that Heavenly Father has a plan for each one of us and even though I didn't understand it, I had to trust Him and His plan for me (which, apparently, did not include marriage.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB7ARmX6OWoRpvUP6Wd7xyNQKX_5jCyrOIz-g99J0lBLZgnQRKDqpEwG1QtOg_NewqRrrfXezsk8zXw8P2n6xruoFGeLLP4xLcn7xIqsVy5hIx5G7XAcbciG25415hYo_xywI-49z786Ge/s1600/Thanksgiving+2007+04.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB7ARmX6OWoRpvUP6Wd7xyNQKX_5jCyrOIz-g99J0lBLZgnQRKDqpEwG1QtOg_NewqRrrfXezsk8zXw8P2n6xruoFGeLLP4xLcn7xIqsVy5hIx5G7XAcbciG25415hYo_xywI-49z786Ge/s400/Thanksgiving+2007+04.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thanksgiving 2008</div><br />
So that's where I was. Alone, broke, and searching for friends. And then I met Lloyd. There are so many funny things about the way our early courtship went. The first being, I couldn't even see what he looked like from his bio picture. He had some old, out of date picture where he was sitting on a couch about 10 feet away from where the photo was being shot. Digital imaging wasn't very common then, and the 35mm shot was blurry and hard to see. All I could tell was that he had long legs (as they were stretched out in front of him) and dark hair. Other than that, the image was fuzzy. But, I read his bio and he seemed like a genuinely NICE GUY. That's the kind of friends I wanted to make: genuinely nice people. I wasn't looking for partyers or game-players male or female. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Tt8gu7RRPOS4XxUTaE2bpta6-R1QpiGb6khD_h-jRsmqtL-NnAlws-SOK7N-nev0pvlgWA5g7vOuPT4HX5muCN1w2d9ZWRc1zMm9qsPhfR7rZ4tTnMQU8vx6hScrsLczf1KM5swhqikb/s1600/Cheryl%2527s+Bday+1-12-08+08.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Tt8gu7RRPOS4XxUTaE2bpta6-R1QpiGb6khD_h-jRsmqtL-NnAlws-SOK7N-nev0pvlgWA5g7vOuPT4HX5muCN1w2d9ZWRc1zMm9qsPhfR7rZ4tTnMQU8vx6hScrsLczf1KM5swhqikb/s400/Cheryl%2527s+Bday+1-12-08+08.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My 35th Birthday 2009</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Lloyd and I started emailing back and forth and he was the kindest and most thoughtful man I'd ever encountered. I had no idea at the time that I would fall for him. I wasn't expecting it in the least. In fact, at the time, he was dating a few other girls. Even after we'd had a couple of dates he flew out to California to meet up with another lady. But, it didn't bother me. Why? Because I didn't know I was falling in love. I was totally in the "friend zone" and so I was completely okay with that. On top of that, I knew that if I ever DID find someone to fall in love with, I was definitely NOT going to try to convince him to love me. Looking back, when I was younger, I see that I often gave too much, too soon. I was so eager for love that I gave my whole heart away to those who didn't give back as freely. As hard as those times were, I learned from them. I was determined that I would rather be alone and happy, than with someone who didn't love me the way I deserved to be loved.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjateQr3xYVVhu2v4CqFNyn6uYtV-iNuLdr9Yb0EnkXeSlzra-ic4hrncg8PgI3Jx3KwHcU6nNj6ZjZIf3TtlC1msf69NWkjNZRroHMmcXX5dT9Gc422FSeJtBrPdyI8b0bjLkywVGe4nes/s1600/Lloyd+%2526+Cheryl+5th+Wedding+Anniversary+121009+4x6+size+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjateQr3xYVVhu2v4CqFNyn6uYtV-iNuLdr9Yb0EnkXeSlzra-ic4hrncg8PgI3Jx3KwHcU6nNj6ZjZIf3TtlC1msf69NWkjNZRroHMmcXX5dT9Gc422FSeJtBrPdyI8b0bjLkywVGe4nes/s400/Lloyd+%2526+Cheryl+5th+Wedding+Anniversary+121009+4x6+size+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our Five Year Anniversary, December 2009</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Lloyd loves me completely and unreservedly. Though our marriage isn't perfect (is anyone's?), we are happy. We work hard at loving each other and we are building our dreams together. They are slow in coming to fruition, but we are partners in our efforts, for the most part (except when he forgets to take the trash out.) I love Lloyd with my whole heart and am MOST grateful for the path that led us to each other. I'm grateful for God's plan for me. He knows what is right for me (and WHEN it is right for me), even though I sometimes doubt. As the years go by, I better understand the value of patience and faith, for in retrospect, I see nothing short of miracles in my life.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjctfsngLVvWnEjFmZ5fz79WKhnvWUWX82TGDE7Cm0m9AsShHv6-0q3os7wk3hlOIiRsnHl1aoi5smwJBtuzxuoYFKMyDqSS_sl7bdHarQBfU87dbnzyY28DqWEVAKeRTnroYszw-EdTkik/s1600/44.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjctfsngLVvWnEjFmZ5fz79WKhnvWUWX82TGDE7Cm0m9AsShHv6-0q3os7wk3hlOIiRsnHl1aoi5smwJBtuzxuoYFKMyDqSS_sl7bdHarQBfU87dbnzyY28DqWEVAKeRTnroYszw-EdTkik/s400/44.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Family Picture with our dog, Chance (who thinks he's a "people".) 2010</div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-25835924930496320692011-11-14T21:57:00.000-06:002011-11-14T21:57:04.815-06:00A HomeI'm thankful for my home. Though we were poor growing up, we were never without a home, thank Goodness. I can't imagine the difficulty of being homeless. Yet, I know that there are countless Americans who are. With the state of our economy and corrupt politicians, I worry that many families are increasingly closer to being homeless. <br />
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When I was a kid, I had to share a room with my two sisters. It wasn't that big of a deal. Back then, that's just what you did. Nowadays, people seem to think that every child has to have his own room. Not only did we share a room, but we had bunk beds. I know lots of kids think bunk beds are cool, but I didn't. Being on the bottom bunk meant it was dark when you sat on your bed to write or do homework. Bunk beds also meant constant awakenings when the person in the other bed moves, wiggles, or climbs up and down the ladder. I know it probably sounds silly, but I remember as a girl DREAMING of having my OWN bed. I longed for a ruffley and frilly canopy bed, complete with the <a href="http://www.squidoo.com/holly-hobbie-doll-story">Holly Hobbie</a> bedding ensemble. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ0amLIodD9JtzlwxiAtuSzFtYVHQh2QRBBZT6g6c5r8YZXXZoWkEXC20MRYM04gGWbVSzlEqS0qkSG64UNF-kNc9K5PsJ5kUH3e6bwjl-hO-DhhOSRfIoYdWrVb21q1lZNws4lRPIxLO1/s1600/Holly+Hobbie+1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ0amLIodD9JtzlwxiAtuSzFtYVHQh2QRBBZT6g6c5r8YZXXZoWkEXC20MRYM04gGWbVSzlEqS0qkSG64UNF-kNc9K5PsJ5kUH3e6bwjl-hO-DhhOSRfIoYdWrVb21q1lZNws4lRPIxLO1/s400/Holly+Hobbie+1.gif" width="227" /></a></div><br />
I wanted my own bed so badly that there were times when I would take boxes, filled with various and sundry things, line them up in a rectangular pattern, then plop my mattress on top of them. Viola! My own non-bunk-bed. Clearly this was not a bright idea, as the boxes got mushed down from the weight. I'd wake up in the night sliding off to the floor, as my mattress had tilted on its uneven foundation.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9clUwuiIWc-qCx3LYacY43xQJbWZkICvrYGg06cxMK3BY_-u4k4O-tr2iwOKAx3w2qlcQ0IZ4MwbqERj3jf1YqcBZjeLczQojRwxOml4D6SxxnkquKASpcwooZu1cNB9YQMhd7BRe8ve1/s1600/canopy+bed++yellow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9clUwuiIWc-qCx3LYacY43xQJbWZkICvrYGg06cxMK3BY_-u4k4O-tr2iwOKAx3w2qlcQ0IZ4MwbqERj3jf1YqcBZjeLczQojRwxOml4D6SxxnkquKASpcwooZu1cNB9YQMhd7BRe8ve1/s400/canopy+bed++yellow.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
To have a home is such a blessing that I daily take for granted. Not only that, but I've been blessed with a beautiful home. I never dreamed I'd be so blessed. Really. It was just never really in the realm of my imagination that I would get to live somewhere so nice. I'm thankful to God for His abundance; and I'm thankful for my husband who works so hard to provide such a comfortable home.<br />
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Here are some pictures of what the house looked like when we first moved in, in December 2006. It doesn't look as great now, as I am not a good housekeeper at all! But, it's still nice and I'm thankful.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbEkzeb4tzo8lsDypNzOcgSqYmaOld38x3IAPSEejj0rzaK8L8YQ8wLkmK13Kd8YjCssh2GBGiLa5lF2F7RhaDpVIdNBVWDlhk46domCdWhoY_CWpUHPhyphenhyphenmwH132wS0v9n29dh3jTSSeH/s1600/living+room+to+the+left+of+entrance01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbEkzeb4tzo8lsDypNzOcgSqYmaOld38x3IAPSEejj0rzaK8L8YQ8wLkmK13Kd8YjCssh2GBGiLa5lF2F7RhaDpVIdNBVWDlhk46domCdWhoY_CWpUHPhyphenhyphenmwH132wS0v9n29dh3jTSSeH/s400/living+room+to+the+left+of+entrance01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Front Room</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDu2uEKolw4uXn9YNxl-8uh8QO0Pxw1LhLIG6tx0DU1I05ZUwl5SCptzpCArw5WXA4gqIpAiLZHInpwrqexu2ZhD8pvJ2Lr9ldejnCgbDm0Ccb6815zlDaxvjfFKgVqWZ5HTmAnXNuzeB/s1600/dinning+room01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDu2uEKolw4uXn9YNxl-8uh8QO0Pxw1LhLIG6tx0DU1I05ZUwl5SCptzpCArw5WXA4gqIpAiLZHInpwrqexu2ZhD8pvJ2Lr9ldejnCgbDm0Ccb6815zlDaxvjfFKgVqWZ5HTmAnXNuzeB/s400/dinning+room01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Dining Room </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWl_t3L8XTixue7l7vaJODCS5klw4EDmw6mZ46hw7zMNOo3aYl0Kq2e2WtG8WlIiRol2mayYZI0DJbzy7uf1Zv4IxyTaD9rf0xqtI7p7nvzkzTxHzG2YJ7RcGYnRrdZpJaRtJX44AXkKjC/s1600/5+kitchen01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWl_t3L8XTixue7l7vaJODCS5klw4EDmw6mZ46hw7zMNOo3aYl0Kq2e2WtG8WlIiRol2mayYZI0DJbzy7uf1Zv4IxyTaD9rf0xqtI7p7nvzkzTxHzG2YJ7RcGYnRrdZpJaRtJX44AXkKjC/s400/5+kitchen01.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Kitchen </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiny3q7Y6tIYy3Gz-m7JVr3leesSlsNexXg8N2FK62Oj1KsWIS0Wh6KgwTDE2CD1yAO-raa1MKbxYx6JOnMp_fqSyrBZ61u3OvPIVvLYOKiAROG8A46vzMlkLNb8YhJFXP6Yn8QdUxgBsOB/s1600/2+family+room01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiny3q7Y6tIYy3Gz-m7JVr3leesSlsNexXg8N2FK62Oj1KsWIS0Wh6KgwTDE2CD1yAO-raa1MKbxYx6JOnMp_fqSyrBZ61u3OvPIVvLYOKiAROG8A46vzMlkLNb8YhJFXP6Yn8QdUxgBsOB/s400/2+family+room01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Family Room</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArn5b8gqh4PKlgQpFczt2idG3WlctuiH_KBSiLRxXRc08ICIOrqVlDdqF79fC92oWcfkEBe7oPv0-m0NKZr59W0sK5f9qe8SjXTLiJtbixXzWkeJDJITYeamX_3bDq7Rc3sqBBt4Ep_PE/s1600/3+family+room01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArn5b8gqh4PKlgQpFczt2idG3WlctuiH_KBSiLRxXRc08ICIOrqVlDdqF79fC92oWcfkEBe7oPv0-m0NKZr59W0sK5f9qe8SjXTLiJtbixXzWkeJDJITYeamX_3bDq7Rc3sqBBt4Ep_PE/s400/3+family+room01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArn5b8gqh4PKlgQpFczt2idG3WlctuiH_KBSiLRxXRc08ICIOrqVlDdqF79fC92oWcfkEBe7oPv0-m0NKZr59W0sK5f9qe8SjXTLiJtbixXzWkeJDJITYeamX_3bDq7Rc3sqBBt4Ep_PE/s1600/3+family+room01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Family room and Back Reading Nook</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBmc4jYzH7e17J2NTOrmPwKjiij3YB6jwytaYxiBKyUTA1-oxSCRQQ1YP-dnvjxX3b4aMVRdIbMaGmmYBZ6Lc-r0pyQu_sRM2CqlfNs97wB4gpMmJ_LzyKUViQ49Ik8x_gISruOYcjyInC/s1600/hall+bath01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBmc4jYzH7e17J2NTOrmPwKjiij3YB6jwytaYxiBKyUTA1-oxSCRQQ1YP-dnvjxX3b4aMVRdIbMaGmmYBZ6Lc-r0pyQu_sRM2CqlfNs97wB4gpMmJ_LzyKUViQ49Ik8x_gISruOYcjyInC/s400/hall+bath01.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Front Bath</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd15-u0I5PHVcf8ShbNYQu1J9j1_GK5pNUO8aXI2oxNTu2r8k7n4u-nZ8zFuaaXpGQ4971VNpiuUrkwg1JkqQjVi8to-PMN9GGMG-m5LgxDM9KJQlBxLZ79Wc4EImjHj8EAw-z2GCJ_3Nf/s1600/bedroom+%25231+facing+front01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd15-u0I5PHVcf8ShbNYQu1J9j1_GK5pNUO8aXI2oxNTu2r8k7n4u-nZ8zFuaaXpGQ4971VNpiuUrkwg1JkqQjVi8to-PMN9GGMG-m5LgxDM9KJQlBxLZ79Wc4EImjHj8EAw-z2GCJ_3Nf/s400/bedroom+%25231+facing+front01.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bedroom #1</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-oMWeKLmvvd3v60kpcoOKobMxX-bLz_1WZ826inC8RvTMZtcjM33DP5ZNYfApJzf52AdkOJ0CFAb0myJH5lYDX9f5-PKu5wZILP_HSlIXUUmtY_mo1dJDDENS6sMyiMFnAcOPuPWpb-5/s1600/bedroom+%25233+facing+side01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-oMWeKLmvvd3v60kpcoOKobMxX-bLz_1WZ826inC8RvTMZtcjM33DP5ZNYfApJzf52AdkOJ0CFAb0myJH5lYDX9f5-PKu5wZILP_HSlIXUUmtY_mo1dJDDENS6sMyiMFnAcOPuPWpb-5/s400/bedroom+%25233+facing+side01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bedroom #2 (We call it the Mothers' room)</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBlhMGXrWeL9LrK5UmMcGMo6nhDcQQgaSZ-RGLS73jmNrs7cOU1CtlkI7YlN6rDrf1erwMp_u3oE9LqslNGuYgJwdjXEWZMyhM3PrGAkhrIZG_f-k5d6pEbhWRdVaTvF5qBZtUbFMpOOd9/s1600/bedroom+%25232+facing+front01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBlhMGXrWeL9LrK5UmMcGMo6nhDcQQgaSZ-RGLS73jmNrs7cOU1CtlkI7YlN6rDrf1erwMp_u3oE9LqslNGuYgJwdjXEWZMyhM3PrGAkhrIZG_f-k5d6pEbhWRdVaTvF5qBZtUbFMpOOd9/s400/bedroom+%25232+facing+front01.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bedroom #3</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSSTOhnPgLix3OfDjy_j90hSktmmm1H58extxcbpo604QC44JVtLIH-KG4c5QneEXwIFFuAo6iUYoqHNFSvpLR2kK07gMNEVtonK-5BCIM08CNweoJ8CkHUrMszQYz8PCGRQfOWlcIwGcL/s1600/bedroom+%2523201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSSTOhnPgLix3OfDjy_j90hSktmmm1H58extxcbpo604QC44JVtLIH-KG4c5QneEXwIFFuAo6iUYoqHNFSvpLR2kK07gMNEVtonK-5BCIM08CNweoJ8CkHUrMszQYz8PCGRQfOWlcIwGcL/s400/bedroom+%2523201.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bedroom #3</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqf9WyWYqa3pBIVWWE8kVDoRCOeVByiSnejhNENgvQ9PDTQ5ZcaK2zYHW9QamnGJzsWpyw5isxr-XF804qKe1rOCbpEw2eQFmOs8PdFe23m-Gm376XHAjDElch2p5C3yeHTXzxIHBzkAR/s1600/2+master+bedroom01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqf9WyWYqa3pBIVWWE8kVDoRCOeVByiSnejhNENgvQ9PDTQ5ZcaK2zYHW9QamnGJzsWpyw5isxr-XF804qKe1rOCbpEw2eQFmOs8PdFe23m-Gm376XHAjDElch2p5C3yeHTXzxIHBzkAR/s400/2+master+bedroom01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Master Bedroom</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwlPL9JM-6HEUOm_oysuwgUpp4AfIuQxVwVbTOiPtBLZW1e63fNt4vncQLdZgRb5JNoxqCZ9mgYUy-aHO0_qTD4GZOEBXnmFNRbEMHEwRH37FIx__pfynV-3GjJTVdLZTygcYCByyUkhkY/s1600/1+master+bedroom01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwlPL9JM-6HEUOm_oysuwgUpp4AfIuQxVwVbTOiPtBLZW1e63fNt4vncQLdZgRb5JNoxqCZ9mgYUy-aHO0_qTD4GZOEBXnmFNRbEMHEwRH37FIx__pfynV-3GjJTVdLZTygcYCByyUkhkY/s400/1+master+bedroom01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Master Bedroom & Window Seat</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYMfklzXS2dEjEmjT-ijYxcZtYqwoH_BGvQw25Ej8rBCTYFFXO5OntNewvziDHKltvpXjgM-kzLsKtZOfN_VWpiJaBMgq9fZOoGyaTMc9kM9fF6jEvQY3YDxQbW8yO27olpxMSsuAlYsm/s1600/1+master+bath01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYMfklzXS2dEjEmjT-ijYxcZtYqwoH_BGvQw25Ej8rBCTYFFXO5OntNewvziDHKltvpXjgM-kzLsKtZOfN_VWpiJaBMgq9fZOoGyaTMc9kM9fF6jEvQY3YDxQbW8yO27olpxMSsuAlYsm/s400/1+master+bath01.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Master Bath</div> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERCVKJolDbrcf1AJrvCP3qGVBykB5o4tG5jmPUhoQ6Y_wS0W3NIYBg6qEn0ZGo-3IzUGkJ_d5ThGYnqoTVrm_cFp_vmqckIc_YzV80yL4mz0gwd1oVvhrDf9UYtw44yTvzN7kL3z3NLOF/s1600/3+master+bath01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERCVKJolDbrcf1AJrvCP3qGVBykB5o4tG5jmPUhoQ6Y_wS0W3NIYBg6qEn0ZGo-3IzUGkJ_d5ThGYnqoTVrm_cFp_vmqckIc_YzV80yL4mz0gwd1oVvhrDf9UYtw44yTvzN7kL3z3NLOF/s400/3+master+bath01.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Master Bath</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vw5ZcDtXbYxnXSkLnvzcgarl2yBhuWQstKYakVTV4t4qFnmbHCXr3GGq6j1PK7VrFH8NIT0XrccQQq45QBktGI7ilGhK9ZtrTdL7e7QaE-e4J_865dJGfCjeFBk6-P7gFVMBOLO7eB9u/s1600/media+room--everything+stays01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vw5ZcDtXbYxnXSkLnvzcgarl2yBhuWQstKYakVTV4t4qFnmbHCXr3GGq6j1PK7VrFH8NIT0XrccQQq45QBktGI7ilGhK9ZtrTdL7e7QaE-e4J_865dJGfCjeFBk6-P7gFVMBOLO7eB9u/s400/media+room--everything+stays01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Upstairs Media Room</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjruiE86hZ6nB0ZoDFo4s-w02XwwUb1tzWbTlJlYlqxA20CHrz9G23kDw_e83yPmONzpEo-xqxvA2qARo5o3lpp5HncT6LaIvJTmx3RZJjQXzyg1wsMTCxac5kHswK0uACtRcZnWUvK_8Dm/s1600/2+media+room01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjruiE86hZ6nB0ZoDFo4s-w02XwwUb1tzWbTlJlYlqxA20CHrz9G23kDw_e83yPmONzpEo-xqxvA2qARo5o3lpp5HncT6LaIvJTmx3RZJjQXzyg1wsMTCxac5kHswK0uACtRcZnWUvK_8Dm/s400/2+media+room01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Upstairs Media Room / Game Area</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-67093750672406762462011-11-04T22:27:00.002-05:002011-11-04T23:02:45.602-05:00Blessings Through TrialI'm thankful for my health. I've been in the hospital 3 times within the last year or so. That's not what I want to have happened at this point in my life. Thankfully, the doctors have been able to help me improve, but it's been a trial on so many levels. <br />
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I've learned a lot from having had sickness. It's opened my eyes to what <i><b>living</b></i> is. It's helped me develop greater compassion. Having been sick in the last year or so, helped better prepare me for my Dad's passing. I'm thankful that Heavenly Father works all things together for our good (<a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/nt/rom/8.28?lang=eng#27">Roman's 8:28</a>). Even when I was experiencing those times of trial, He was helping me to grow.<br />
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Today I am well. I am well and I am thankful for my health.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Sickly/ParkersGingerTonic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Sickly/ParkersGingerTonic.jpg" width="231" /></a></div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-79814545816101951612011-11-03T16:28:00.002-05:002011-11-04T23:34:33.250-05:00Gratitude<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I read a quote somewhere (probably on Facebook) earlier this year: </span><br />
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<h1 style="line-height: 32px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i>"What if you woke up tomorrow with only </i></span></h1><h1 style="line-height: 32px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i>the things you thanked God for today?"</i></span></h1><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Spiritual/girlpraying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Spiritual/girlpraying.jpg" width="303" /></a></div><h1 style="color: #333333; line-height: 32px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-size: small; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">That meant something to me. What a profound question. I realized that although I try to say at least a morning prayer, and an evening prayer (and try to remember to give gratitude at mealtimes), my prayers are often too short and too insincere.</span></h1><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">We live in a very fast-paced society. My mom (who is now in her mid-sixties) is truly convinced that time is actually moving faster. I can't say that I disagree. With so much amazing technology available today, one might think that it would be easier to accomplish MORE in less time. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Junk%20and%20Stuff/ElectricWasher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Junk%20and%20Stuff/ElectricWasher.jpg" width="263" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Junk%20and%20Stuff/buckeyewasher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="395" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Junk%20and%20Stuff/buckeyewasher.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Unfortunately, while that may be true, we now have higher expectations of what is to be "done" every day. Not that the stuff to be done is <i><b>harder</b></i> (I would've worn dirty clothes for weeks had I to wash them on those old-fashioned washing boards with wringers); it's just that we seem to want to cram a million things into every waking moment (and even the non-waking moments.) </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Spiritual/girlpraying3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Spiritual/girlpraying3.jpg" width="271" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">But, busy-ness is not now, nor has it ever been, an excuse for a lack of thoughtful gratitude. While it's easy to get caught up in thinking that by doing so much, our lives will be full and meaningful, it's simply not true. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><b><i>Doing</i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> is well and good, but it really doesn't mean much if we don't stop to appreciate the blessings we have. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div>Heavenly Father has blessed my life with such abundance. I take so much for granted. Now, I'm not saying that I'm going to spend hours in prayer every day (though my soul could probably use it!) thanking God for each little bird's chirp, each pair of shoes, each raindrop on my face. That would just take too long. But, I can CERTAINLY stand to spend MORE time than I currently do truly giving thanks for the countless blessings He graces me with daily: a comfortable home, health, family, friends, food, sight, smell, touch, taste, sound. Where would I be without ears to hear and eyes to see? </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Spiritual/girlpraying2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/A1%20Blogstuff/Blog%20-%20Spiritual/girlpraying2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
</div><div>I have to try to remember the things that matter today. I WANT to give thanks for them always. What if I DID wake up tomorrow and all I had was the things for which I'd previously been grateful? How I would regret not having given more thanks.</div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-17245890361234688172011-11-02T22:44:00.002-05:002011-11-02T22:49:38.925-05:00Employment<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I'm thankful for my job. It's been just over six months now that I've been with this company, and every day I count my blessings. Oscar Wilde's words really resonate with me, “<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">The best way to appreciate your job is to imagine yourself without one</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">.</span>”</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I've been unemployed before. I've been fired, laid off, quit. My husband has also gone through unemployment. It's not pretty for the majority of working class America. And, since the housing bust in 2008 (and the subsequent bailout), employment has been extremely hard to come by for many, many Americans across the nation. The Dallas metroplex is one of the places that has been least affected by the "recession". While it hasn't been ideal, it has been SO VERY MUCH better than what many others face elsewhere.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Every day I get up and say a simple prayer of gratitude for a job to go to. For that means I have money to pay my bills, a home to live in, food to eat, medical care, and even fun money. </span>Not ONLY this, but I actually LOVE my job. I've spent the first 10 years of my career in jobs that weren't that great. There was a lot of stress, little pay, and a lack of fulfillment. Not only that, but I've encountered a myriad of unscrupulous business persons and employees. There have been times when it's all I could do to MAKE myself go to work.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">But now, after so much hardship, Heavenly Father has blessed me abundantly. I work less than 3 miles from home (which is practically unheard of in the metroplex), I get to have near-total autonomy in my work (I work alone a lot, which I enjoy), I excel at what I do as an office manager and bookkeeper (I like to do everything and be in the details), my work hours are flexible and in addition to Saturday and Sunday, I also have Fridays off. But best of all, I really really LIKE my bosses. They've treated me so well. They value me. They appreciate me. They've shown they really care about me as a person. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">For years I believed that I would always be stuck in crummy jobs. I figured that's just the way life is. When I quit my horrible job a year ago April, I was scared and worried. It took many months to find the new job, the RIGHT job. But, I just chose to keep believing that Heavenly Father would work out the best plan for me. I couldn't understand why I wasn't finding the right job, though I had many successful interviews. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Now, I understand. He was saving me for this place, at this time. He had a plan all along. I'm so thankful for my job. </span>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-91458272111573145182011-11-01T00:01:00.114-05:002011-11-05T00:12:30.348-05:00Autumn JoyDid I ever mention how much I dearly love Autumn? It's my favorite season. Which, if you think about it, is kind of strange for a person who has struggled with Depression her whole life. But, I just can't help it. No other season SMELLS and FEELS the way Autumn does. PLUS, Autumn is really just a segue way into the Holidays. I've noticed that I'm happiest when I have something to look forward to. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/Autumn/AutumnintheOzarks01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/Autumn/AutumnintheOzarks01.jpg" width="272" /></a></div><br />
In the past, I used to think the GETTING of or the ARRIVAL of a thing or event was IT. But, now that I'm older (and <i>clearly</i> much wiser), I've realized that it's the ANTICIPATION that I enjoy most. That's part of the reason I'm a "planner". Don't get me wrong, I can spontane as much as, or better than the next gal. But I like to plan things because then I get to savor the anticipation. <br />
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As a kid growing up, we didn't have much money. In fact, it's amazing that we had Christmas gifts at all. But, not HAVING never stopped me from DREAMING. What Christian child hasn't spent hours in contemplation over the all-important Christmas Wish List? Just as it was then, I relish the time spent dreaming <b><u>more</u></b> than the actual THING itself.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/Autumn/AlleySpringsinAutumn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/Autumn/AlleySpringsinAutumn.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
That's one of the main reasons I think I love Autumn so much. When the leaves start to fall, and the wind turns cool, it's a signal that the Holidays (filled with parties, shopping, gifts, family time, and a general increase in human decency) are just around the corner. Who couldn't love that? <br />
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I'm also appreciative of Autumn because for Americans, the Thanksgiving holiday is celebrated. As we take time to reflect on the many blessings that have been afforded us as a nation, as families, and individuals, our hearts can't help but expand. It often appears that nowadays many tend toward building up a personal armor to avoid showing any inkling of vulnerability (convinced that being open will result in being taken advantage of, financial ruin, or lack of respect). However, with the onset of Autumn, and the ensuing Holiday Season, people's hearts seem to soften and grow warmer. Friendships are rekindled and family bonds are renewed. There is nothing more important in life than this.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/Autumn/AutumnTempleSquareSLC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/Autumn/AutumnTempleSquareSLC.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
With that being said, I'm thankful for my family. My dad passed away in September. It's not that I was especially close to my dad. I loved him. He was my dad. I understood him, because I am like him. More than anything, I was happy to see him go because I understand the certain misery that comes from being stuck in a sick body. He was sick for a long time. The upcoming winter weather would have been even harder on him. I'm glad he was freed from his mortal prison and no longer has to face the sickness, sadness, pain, and loneliness that often come with being elderly and alone. <br />
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With my dad's passing, our family was reunited twice within 2 months: once in September at his passing and again in October, for his simple, yet beautiful memorial at the lake. As a family of highly independent thinkers, in the past, we've often had disagreements. It could be said that we argue simply for the sake of arguing. We all enjoy a good debate. Sometimes, however, those debates have been taken a little too far and feelings have inevitably been hurt. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/Autumn/AutumnCoveredBridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/Autumn/AutumnCoveredBridge.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
As my mother and siblings gathered to discuss the business of death (because, with all the decisions to be made, it DOES feel that way sometimes), I was worried that there would be contention -- too many varying opinions. To my wonder, we all genuinely got along. Everyone behaved kindly, respectfully, and even maturely in deciding the WHAT and WHEN and HOW. While there were a few diverging thoughts, it seemed that all were on their best behavior to be accommodating; to get along as best as possible. <br />
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I've heard of families being torn apart by death. If anything, I think my family became closer and stronger going through this together. I have new-found respect for my siblings, even my "littlest" brother. At 25, my baby brother amazes me with his strength of character and gentle heart. He understands things in a way that most men never do. He speaks few words, but when he does, they are gems. I regard and respect him, as with many other of my siblings. My mom continues to be a pillar of strength and admiration.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/Autumn/AutumnCoveredBridge3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://i727.photobucket.com/albums/ww274/cosmoscarey/Autumn/AutumnCoveredBridge3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I'm thankful for a strong, opinionated, passionate, caring family. I love when we are together. I get to behold amazing qualities in those around me. Though it's not ALWAYS rainbows, unicorns, and sunshine, I am filled with gratitude for their love, support, and strength of character.Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-72542302471855319372011-04-15T21:05:00.000-05:002011-04-15T21:05:17.349-05:00It's Lovely to Have SistersBeen so busy and it's been so long. Wanted to check in, though. <br />
<br />
A) My depression has gotten WAY better since I finally got in to see a new psychiatrist (a month wait list for new patients). I'm so thankful, as the last 2 years have been really really tough for me. Not that everyone else doesn't have their problems, too. We've all got some. I'm just so grateful for some relief so I can be more like ME again.<br />
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B) My older sister, Carla, finally moved here from Oregon! I say, "FINALLY", because I've been working on her for literally years to try to get her to move here. Of my 6 siblings, she was the only one that was fairly inaccessible to me. I think she quite liked it that way, to be honest. (Can't say as how I blamed her for moving back then when she did--crazy people in the family can make wanting to "stay close" less-appealing.) But, now we're all older and I'm glad she's close. I love both my sisters (1 older, Carla, and 1 younger, Casey) so much. Even though I was the "middle child" both in the family and in between sisters, and I was a rotten, mean, bossy child, I've gotten somewhat better. I'm glad my sisters and I are so close. No one can make me laugh the silliest laughs like they do. It's a special wacky kind of humor that only a certain amount of history and genetic resemblance can induce. <br />
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However, that being said, I also feel so blessed that I have so many, many wonderful girlfriends in my life. You know that saying that goes something like, "When one door closes, another one will open"? Life really is kind of like that. I had a VERY rough time of it in 5th and 6th grade. The girls in my class were so mean and catty. If you remember being that age, or have female children who've been that age, undoubtedly you'll recall the ridiculosity (cool word I just invented) of those "friendships". For me, as I was really smart, my "girlfriends" would always ask me for the answers to the homework they failed to complete. I used to give it to them because I sooooo wanted to "fit in". But somewhere around age 11 or 12, I not only began to grow boobs, but a sense of self, as well. When I began turning them down for their requests, they HATED me. Not only did they ignore me and make fun of me, one girl even SPAT on me walking home from school one day! Can you believe that?! By the time I moved on to Jr. High School (7th grade), I was determined that I would NEVER let myself be hurt by "friends" like that again.<br />
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At first, I was a little wary of making "friends" all over again. I kind of figured all girls were like that. But, as I focused more on being the ME I wanted to be and less on what I thought others wanted me to be, I found some really great people who liked me just as I was. I was funny, charismatic, smart and interesting (I don't know what's happened since....but that's another story. :) From that point forward, I became increasingly skilled at making friends. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't just like I decided it would be so and viola, it was. No, no, no. As with anything worthwhile, it has taken YEARS and YEARS of practice. Occassionally I still get "burned" by not so good people, but it hurts a lot less because I know I will always find other/better friends. They're the ones who are missing out! <br />
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So back to the point at hand, I am so grateful for wonderful genetic sisters, as well as my "sisters" that are my close friends. Some I've had for decades, while others have been with me for just a few short months. All are treasured in my heart (as cheesy as that sounds). They love me for me and that is one of the best feelings in the world, wouldn't you agree? As the last 2 years have been a daily depression battle, I've often said prayers of gratitude to a Heavenly Father who loves me enough to bless with me with amazing, talented, caring friends who help get me through the rough patches. Just knowing there was someone who I could go to lunch with, or share a craft with, or even exchange emails (detailing the many gorgeous items we've found on the internet that we would "buy" for each other), always gave me hope and something to look forward to.<br />
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The past few weeks have been especially full of love and friendship. I hope the rest of the year continues to be as bright and warm as this Spring is proving to be. <br />
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Though this is probably the WRONG thing to do (inevitably I'll forget someone and hurt her feelings), I'd still like to give a shout out to some of my favorite girlfriends. We may not talk often, or we may see each other every day. No matter what, though, these are those that mean a lot to me at this point in my life (just as others have played important roles at different periods of my life). I thank you all for your loving kindness, constancy and loyalty in our relationships:<br />
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Carla--my older sister<br />
Casey--my younger sister<br />
Mom--my really older sister :)<br />
Dee Dee--my BFF for life--who makes me laugh just as hard as my sisters.<br />
Rebecca--my HS BF who builds me up better than anyone.<br />
Alisa--who's opened up my world to the past and my future to creativity.<br />
Nina--who understands my heart better than most because she KNOWS.<br />
Julie--for sending that first email and being so open and honest.<br />
Lori--my kindred spirit in all things crafty, decor, food, etc.<br />
Jenn O.--we clicked from day one and I so love our discussions.<br />
Kirsten--the model of perfect mothering and food storage reliance!<br />
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I'm sure I've missed a few, and if you are someone I missed--please forgive me. I'm a crazy old bat with a poor memory!<br />
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Love to all!<br />
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p.s. Today my sister, Carla, and I did a "photo-shoot". How fun is that? Sisters are the few who will actually tell you when you look fat in a picture and to re-pose. Her pictures turned out great, I think.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LJCWNx2CZInKUfuhN9nYfr9HN3-3CHEG2XDEahWXEIPS-slk5YzMB8CW9g56gVA3dWRCw5RRcXT2LC2HmpasvZJ6yrz5mG6wgLGO18UBdlnv2sxz4oBl77KI_6Qs0oNA1LDMVNLo6-mX/s1600/Carla+in+Grass+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LJCWNx2CZInKUfuhN9nYfr9HN3-3CHEG2XDEahWXEIPS-slk5YzMB8CW9g56gVA3dWRCw5RRcXT2LC2HmpasvZJ6yrz5mG6wgLGO18UBdlnv2sxz4oBl77KI_6Qs0oNA1LDMVNLo6-mX/s400/Carla+in+Grass+01.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV6XMgLnEiKY7K8H92kmtn4ehlz-nWsdZEwD7o9vgkTjLFww6K-8gXNmI0Wpnz609M-uu3Nk7D0RVYgPG09MZcGU-T2ynz4hNw6Fuqlfmxf67HyNxqT9dGft2LRiTqzVxFH8eIYrzaOUx2/s1600/Carla+Back+of+Durango+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV6XMgLnEiKY7K8H92kmtn4ehlz-nWsdZEwD7o9vgkTjLFww6K-8gXNmI0Wpnz609M-uu3Nk7D0RVYgPG09MZcGU-T2ynz4hNw6Fuqlfmxf67HyNxqT9dGft2LRiTqzVxFH8eIYrzaOUx2/s400/Carla+Back+of+Durango+01.jpg" width="290" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LJCWNx2CZInKUfuhN9nYfr9HN3-3CHEG2XDEahWXEIPS-slk5YzMB8CW9g56gVA3dWRCw5RRcXT2LC2HmpasvZJ6yrz5mG6wgLGO18UBdlnv2sxz4oBl77KI_6Qs0oNA1LDMVNLo6-mX/s1600/Carla+in+Grass+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-U9qs1O8GHbbwRfB3atrnHa5k5241GNeGFW9YWmfeYWfX7m7E0boKcXp2MFGJ6_bd2WVgGWPNVZoVFhHswAlDo3rgZ2UEhoPWhTveoWYG90z2e7JLnEp1SrBXHb58rubr8zDNkObX13o/s1600/Carla+by+Barn+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-U9qs1O8GHbbwRfB3atrnHa5k5241GNeGFW9YWmfeYWfX7m7E0boKcXp2MFGJ6_bd2WVgGWPNVZoVFhHswAlDo3rgZ2UEhoPWhTveoWYG90z2e7JLnEp1SrBXHb58rubr8zDNkObX13o/s400/Carla+by+Barn+01.jpg" width="292" /></a></div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-89311155330825025712011-03-09T01:15:00.001-06:002011-03-09T01:19:03.003-06:00Coin Wrapper Tag SwapI haven't had anything particular to blog about lately. I am excited for spring, though. Spring always makes me happier. Too bad it's too short-lived here in TX before we go right into the 90s! Oh well, I'd rather be hot than cold. I'm usually cold in the summertime, though, because by dear sweet husband thinks it's appropriate to keep the A/C turned down to 66. Ridiculous, I KNOW! But, I can't put layers on...<br />
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Not having much interesting going on right now, I thought it'd be nice if I shared one of the past swaps I participated in with two of my closest <a href="http://littlemomentofpeace.blogspot.com/">friends</a>. We did a "coin wrapper" tag swap. We each used Quarter coin wrappers as the base of our tag. We decided on a theme of favorite quotes. We each did 3, and then <a href="http://www.lifeisabeautifulplacetobe.blogspot.com/">Alisa</a> kindly put them together in a sort of mini-book format. She even added lettered circle tags at the bottom to spell out "Wise Words". Isn't she clever?!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dS8JWXcn__WePeSsQrlJ60Pplasu5_Iy7bGnc7ln2Ty8I9nhV5xP2FwrIAMwOq6X8vhSN6ReDgA1HW8nWJTd0OmhbvWHemRbzUc7ci6TZpwy_SLvZuYW1VmLLxRrwfxFAVPYhmo6vFgT/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dS8JWXcn__WePeSsQrlJ60Pplasu5_Iy7bGnc7ln2Ty8I9nhV5xP2FwrIAMwOq6X8vhSN6ReDgA1HW8nWJTd0OmhbvWHemRbzUc7ci6TZpwy_SLvZuYW1VmLLxRrwfxFAVPYhmo6vFgT/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+05.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzikS9YXrYjEbHAm1VUGI0UO47xfFGWtQ0zF583b7KCrQPMzZqL2LdUQZ3NFfVxyTYFNfRY46oDu_m1ZW9NnrY_qDlwU1ttKtusEvcgOSiaqeLDced5XTYh0sNHXeo7YbLmBMaHSxLLdqt/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzikS9YXrYjEbHAm1VUGI0UO47xfFGWtQ0zF583b7KCrQPMzZqL2LdUQZ3NFfVxyTYFNfRY46oDu_m1ZW9NnrY_qDlwU1ttKtusEvcgOSiaqeLDced5XTYh0sNHXeo7YbLmBMaHSxLLdqt/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+001.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is the cool cover tag she made. I'm totally diggin' the old rusty key!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT35oYtGaPw2PtpVdJtYZp2yALW80sn5Oq5JQtWV-Fr1DEtLN9d0_Oa12UWupTAZXPjZ6gkAFqvC_Qt1Pg9nJh6ZSBfbmLvUmuQZgT_KTPxtCXijhWSzriDe1RznpU39i3KwBLiBcJ2-C6/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT35oYtGaPw2PtpVdJtYZp2yALW80sn5Oq5JQtWV-Fr1DEtLN9d0_Oa12UWupTAZXPjZ6gkAFqvC_Qt1Pg9nJh6ZSBfbmLvUmuQZgT_KTPxtCXijhWSzriDe1RznpU39i3KwBLiBcJ2-C6/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+002.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuJKLScy29ZLcR3wKUO4BLdPC3tXlg8RSsdt-DXIV6ngNQeR5jkG1V4W2E_Tx0QfQjLoESN_C9jDlvGJ8806VZNWSwNwojDNykrQY9-dhyaQHAomK6ifpvK7QfoOA823fVneKWWuDAZRi/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuJKLScy29ZLcR3wKUO4BLdPC3tXlg8RSsdt-DXIV6ngNQeR5jkG1V4W2E_Tx0QfQjLoESN_C9jDlvGJ8806VZNWSwNwojDNykrQY9-dhyaQHAomK6ifpvK7QfoOA823fVneKWWuDAZRi/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+003.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBSEIBOEhv6uf2bntAJuZTWv4xF7U006_qVf5TMbxnMTRnTpKpo_FfCicm0jCO-PMP8HNMBVdm1uQKgH8bNGl0yGiioL25xvgGfijRaJ5LZUSFz5WkgW4wpfVE49wMwwu8OEFofrOjwAKH/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBSEIBOEhv6uf2bntAJuZTWv4xF7U006_qVf5TMbxnMTRnTpKpo_FfCicm0jCO-PMP8HNMBVdm1uQKgH8bNGl0yGiioL25xvgGfijRaJ5LZUSFz5WkgW4wpfVE49wMwwu8OEFofrOjwAKH/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+004.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"You Reap What You Sow"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkB4mIR_uPVxE6IO-tT1hznBue4GE5dR_gU8fHew9X6FsluDFMGKBce7Xh7sxhd15Fdls2sGOVGTNbupv95Y_6XNrj7g8dd_KxcPDdhL_GcgFPNT0DhPBl8TgYKQ1KZwGEGjmSQtliyMbw/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkB4mIR_uPVxE6IO-tT1hznBue4GE5dR_gU8fHew9X6FsluDFMGKBce7Xh7sxhd15Fdls2sGOVGTNbupv95Y_6XNrj7g8dd_KxcPDdhL_GcgFPNT0DhPBl8TgYKQ1KZwGEGjmSQtliyMbw/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+005.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This one is SO cool because you unwrap it! How neat-o is that for a coin "wrapper"?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjog96D1jRJfB2ElMVTrJpIuYXakCIDS7uzTIBSHJigN2w3jdC80sEaDMUNmDjfFUgksKTcRw-Ae3oNNpMil-vnFLkikfkgOzwyisJ_JTiFt15ht8mOm-aPfOardkx-hl4L_cSgMImmMLcu/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjog96D1jRJfB2ElMVTrJpIuYXakCIDS7uzTIBSHJigN2w3jdC80sEaDMUNmDjfFUgksKTcRw-Ae3oNNpMil-vnFLkikfkgOzwyisJ_JTiFt15ht8mOm-aPfOardkx-hl4L_cSgMImmMLcu/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+006.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One of us has a big ol' "girl crush" on <a href="http://rebeccasower.typepad.com/">Rebecca Sower</a>. I'll not mention any names....yet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_9qHrQQYvN_yYHeBeIsjmrIqjJug0zcRpPLObm2ffwY5WkXkXzMNje2pmPWht5CTDrWwVagvTSmnZk9mPdWw4j4hkb2wNT6rPzKYUQ2d0ZpC-DIJP9CWDJJOMFxZ0DRWdY4CJJJ6q-UF/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_9qHrQQYvN_yYHeBeIsjmrIqjJug0zcRpPLObm2ffwY5WkXkXzMNje2pmPWht5CTDrWwVagvTSmnZk9mPdWw4j4hkb2wNT6rPzKYUQ2d0ZpC-DIJP9CWDJJOMFxZ0DRWdY4CJJJ6q-UF/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+007.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This treasure has a really cool coating of beeswax on top of the tattered muslin and the hand-colored angel. I also love the calming wisdom in these words. That's straight from the Source.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIll-V51aZftJb0imdd4Lfln44sPX57U3vdtcezSVKxmEjyXaMbg9YwtJXEwXoTNow83Je6_jkluxeEa6I6gvQeyweLTJgyoJj61SIBJ5xzy-6dIn4Tw35PMICg6x7Kywnl4edp3BMPJ4s/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIll-V51aZftJb0imdd4Lfln44sPX57U3vdtcezSVKxmEjyXaMbg9YwtJXEwXoTNow83Je6_jkluxeEa6I6gvQeyweLTJgyoJj61SIBJ5xzy-6dIn4Tw35PMICg6x7Kywnl4edp3BMPJ4s/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+008.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"A Large Wife and a Large Farm Never Did a Man Any Harm."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsUhSmxrdPtSwtLvQgbtXOorNLKsvflRevkXgapddBwc_yN124J8YAdfWdk8mly5ZVJUEnppJr6Ot5tOI5cC6UmMhHmEXrzPE9tg5iUt5lmszANvpWg74cBvWKne2Xfee0DZX-2U-1Bnoi/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsUhSmxrdPtSwtLvQgbtXOorNLKsvflRevkXgapddBwc_yN124J8YAdfWdk8mly5ZVJUEnppJr6Ot5tOI5cC6UmMhHmEXrzPE9tg5iUt5lmszANvpWg74cBvWKne2Xfee0DZX-2U-1Bnoi/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+009.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQgCzgMuOuZeTfCaI2INS6EnBlA2a5ACIZOo9ZTthsvRPkWHLvWzjRRljptFg_AzNXO0c4RjTR9Uc5dOpIuk8uVr2E2tClr6kdwFT5AnB_fUSeMKc61wdIYabiCsTMsjDomTAAWy8SkKz/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQgCzgMuOuZeTfCaI2INS6EnBlA2a5ACIZOo9ZTthsvRPkWHLvWzjRRljptFg_AzNXO0c4RjTR9Uc5dOpIuk8uVr2E2tClr6kdwFT5AnB_fUSeMKc61wdIYabiCsTMsjDomTAAWy8SkKz/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+010.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Those are tea-stained cupcake liners there. You can't see it very well here, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">but they also have tiny little pink flowers on them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1O8Wcj07ZW8kE-HgzvlH4LzyomsPynZ8pERjcyob4cINIkHHUF0KLPdknse95FJy1s40PDzKeekpdUTrhQJMlzem25dPZ77leUZE3wjo_s9X0o2_FXT7r4DtMjb-BoUYp5kR7b37nXpB/s1600/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1O8Wcj07ZW8kE-HgzvlH4LzyomsPynZ8pERjcyob4cINIkHHUF0KLPdknse95FJy1s40PDzKeekpdUTrhQJMlzem25dPZ77leUZE3wjo_s9X0o2_FXT7r4DtMjb-BoUYp5kR7b37nXpB/s400/Wise+Words+Coin+Wrapper+Swap+011.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Don't Count Your Chickens Before They Hatch."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now, can you guess who created which ones? </div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-39396586395361276752011-02-19T01:32:00.003-06:002011-02-19T01:44:21.441-06:002011 Desktop CalendarsAs promised, here are the links to your 2011 Desktop Calendar Backgrounds. At the end of this post are some help/instructions for setting each picture as your background (in case anyone needs a hint).<br />
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<u><b>February 2011</b></u><br />
<a href="http://img190.imageshack.us/i/022011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1280x1024</a><br />
<a href="http://img23.imageshack.us/i/022011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1152x864</a><br />
<a href="http://img163.imageshack.us/i/022011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1024x768</a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSXc1p9P3ckQXKrO7CBlCw3lE2-dSHZyL4VtzWuE8mEjc7jojy4MU_x-ZXVqRsPVRVskP1HXGsJcE65iiW69Uqv7AbbvEVdkK48rpaOTE0JZHEk4Jt1so6LUS6PNh9BNYNHcIjcsV1COMd/s1600/02-2011+Desktop+Calendar+Background+1280x1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSXc1p9P3ckQXKrO7CBlCw3lE2-dSHZyL4VtzWuE8mEjc7jojy4MU_x-ZXVqRsPVRVskP1HXGsJcE65iiW69Uqv7AbbvEVdkK48rpaOTE0JZHEk4Jt1so6LUS6PNh9BNYNHcIjcsV1COMd/s400/02-2011+Desktop+Calendar+Background+1280x1024.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<u><b>March 2011</b></u><br />
<a href="http://img689.imageshack.us/i/032011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1280x1024</a><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://img151.imageshack.us/i/032011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1152x864</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://img141.imageshack.us/i/032011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1024x768</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSxpaCDMEknF3LTTUpG1oYE8WVrBtvWxhziAe3TR_pnX2LKV7SRCNhIa4ZXtG5yXc3_eVubnFlmS1ckt2Lo4_T-ONo65rVe4EN_90fG9jL25GIiqRpw_g2BJh4hZ2YoeFtHqZKW4hfn4P/s1600/03-2011+Desktop+Calendar+Background+1152x864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSxpaCDMEknF3LTTUpG1oYE8WVrBtvWxhziAe3TR_pnX2LKV7SRCNhIa4ZXtG5yXc3_eVubnFlmS1ckt2Lo4_T-ONo65rVe4EN_90fG9jL25GIiqRpw_g2BJh4hZ2YoeFtHqZKW4hfn4P/s400/03-2011+Desktop+Calendar+Background+1152x864.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><u><b>April 2011</b></u></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://img198.imageshack.us/i/042011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1280x1024</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://img812.imageshack.us/i/042011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1152x864</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://img17.imageshack.us/i/042011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1024x768</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6awuet5nJH5tM4XFEzKrjKkC6aAvkbibx4t9iQHurpBw2MdjC7ylkzVU2GXVGtt_YCODGwvvhRtcHJC1pJOfqf9QXVro_ARuBTlShypUXLpZ0ibcH9P79gkNWbTy7GHANZKFUvhr1iL5/s1600/04-2011+Desktop+Calendar+Background+1152x864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6awuet5nJH5tM4XFEzKrjKkC6aAvkbibx4t9iQHurpBw2MdjC7ylkzVU2GXVGtt_YCODGwvvhRtcHJC1pJOfqf9QXVro_ARuBTlShypUXLpZ0ibcH9P79gkNWbTy7GHANZKFUvhr1iL5/s400/04-2011+Desktop+Calendar+Background+1152x864.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b><u>May 2011</u></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://img828.imageshack.us/i/052011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1280x1024</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://img841.imageshack.us/i/052011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1152x864</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://img146.imageshack.us/i/052011desktopcalendarba.jpg/">Resolution Size 1024x768</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQB3wP0x_IFaAnN4dxXJjsGpx9PDmU-9x-F4035j3RFgxH2WgVW3ctb8mKnh-BIkOoheBOsBUe21HeGJxtZbyUO40i1JBCfHMkdAs-5TUZONzeeG-AIu5kpiUnI999WG4lKym629FAelL0/s1600/05-2011+Desktop+Calendar+Background+1152x864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQB3wP0x_IFaAnN4dxXJjsGpx9PDmU-9x-F4035j3RFgxH2WgVW3ctb8mKnh-BIkOoheBOsBUe21HeGJxtZbyUO40i1JBCfHMkdAs-5TUZONzeeG-AIu5kpiUnI999WG4lKym629FAelL0/s400/05-2011+Desktop+Calendar+Background+1152x864.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">So far, May is my favorite. I'll get the rest of the 2011 months to you soon!<br />
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INSTRUCTIONS / HINTS for SETTING BACKGROUND IMAGE:<br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black;">These are the first five months of 2011 Desktop Calendars I made. Now, they're not perfect or anything, but I personally, prefer to have a desktop background that has a calendar on it. Makes my life sooooo much easier! So I put these together for you. (Sorry February is already halfway over!)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black;">THE FOLLOWING IS ABOUT HOW TO CHECK/CHANGE YOUR SCREEN RESOLUTION. IF YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW TO DO THIS, SKIP TO THE IMAGE LINKS BELOW.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black;">If you don't know how to save an item as your desktop background, just select an image and right click on it. It should give you the option to save as wallpaper/background. Also, you may need to be aware of your screen resolution. I know, I know, "Cheryl, don't give me a bunch of that techy talk. I don't got time for that! You're lucky that I'm even on here reading your blog entry." But, for those who might not know, but would like to, you can check your screen resolution by doing the following:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><ul type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;">Click the START button at the bottom left of your screen<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;">Select CONTROL PANEL<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;">Select DISPLAY<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;">Click on the SETTINGS tab<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;">You will then see a little left to right slider bar in the middle. Notice where your pointer is on that bar. Is it far to the right, the middle, far to the left? Remember. <o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;">Try sliding the bar back and forth left and right a little bit slowly. You may notice your screen change. If you slide it all the way to the right. You will select 1280x1024 (pixels) resolution. That's what I prefer to use because it means I can see the most stuff possible at a time on my computer screen. It also makes things more crisp for viewing, though smaller (which you can also change the size of your screen text if you desire, but that is another topic--email me if you need help). If you slide your bar to the left, there are 3 other "notches" of resolution you can choose: 1152x864, 1024x768, and 800x600. Most people use the "standard" 1024x768 resolution. But, you can decide whichever one you prefer. If you increase your resolution, you'll see a whole new world on some of your web pages. For example, most people have a "background" pattern on their blog. If you go to someone's blog, you may see very little of this "background" on the left and right sides of your screen. However, if you increase your screen resolution to 1280x1024 you will likely see a <st1:place w:st="on">LOT</st1:place> more of this background pattern. Play around with the resolution, visit other webpages and see what you prefer. Or, keep it right where you have it if you wish.<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;">Choose your resolution size and click APPLY<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;">After your screen is altered, click OK<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;">Close everything up<o:p></o:p></li>
</ul><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black;">Now you are ready to go grab one of my desktop background images and save it as your background/wallpaper. I made the images in 3 resolution sizes (1280x1024, 1152x864, and 1024x768) so it would work for you with whichever screen resolution you've chosen. (Except for the lowest resolution because no one really uses that one.) Be sure to select the image with the same resolution you selected in the DISPLAY SETTINGS. If you don't, it will still work, but it won't fit your screen just right.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span">After you’ve determined which picture you are going to download as</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span">your background, click the link and go to the image.</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span">When you see the image at Image Shack.com, right click it.</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span">Select “Save Image As”.</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span">Save the image somewhere on your computer (desktop?) where you will know where to go back to get it.</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span">If you’re forgetful (like me), you may even want to write down which folder you filed it in!</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"></span><span class="Apple-style-span">Once you have saved the image to your computer, go back to where you saved it.<span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span">Open it.</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span">Right click on the image.</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span">Select “Set as Background”.</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span">Viola!</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span">There you have it!</span> </span></li>
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</div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-71952962457464542182011-02-14T16:32:00.004-06:002011-02-19T01:15:59.036-06:00Valentine's Day Desktop Calendars For You!The last couple of weeks have not been my favorite 2 weeks of my life. I can think of many other 2 week spans that were way more fun than the last two. My vacation to Disneyworld; High School Graduation; Wedding and Honeymoon. Got the stupid cold that's been goin' around. It's just an annoying cough that makes my abdomen workout--and she doesn't want to. <br />
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But, today is Valentine's Day! Yippee. I love any sort of Holiday there is to celebrate and share fun and/or love. I especially love holidays that include receiving gifts (what woman doesn't?) I am excited to go on a date with my wonderful husband. He's getting better every year at Valentine's Day, My Birthday, and Anniversary. I've pretty much kept telling him things he can do and warn him not to make past mistakes because the rule in our house is "If Momma Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy." He tells this to the dogs all the time because if I'm mad at him, he feels he can pass the blame on down the line. So, in order to help him not make past mistakes, like I said, I keep giving him reminders and hints. I also keep an updated wishlist on Amazon.com so there is no "I didn't know what to get you" excuses.<br />
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And just as an aside (my personal opinion), I feel that those people who say stuff like, "I think Valentine's Day is a manufactured holiday just so the companies can sell a bunch of crap at an inflated price so women won't get mad", are a bunch miserable souls. They say, "I don't need a manufactured holiday to give my baby flowers or candy and tell her I love her. I can do that any day of the year." However, it has seemed to me in the past that those who proffer such wisdom, are rarely the ones who abide by it. They're all talk and no action. Wouldn't you agree? <br />
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And another random thought, I DO however feel for the single or lonely on Valentine's Day who WISH they had a Valentine of their own to shower affection and gifts upon. Their lack of enjoyment of Valentine's Day is more acceptable than the previous type of pessimists as noted above. You're either Stingy-Hearted (yes, that is a real word--a cheryl word anyway) or your not. The question is not whether you have a Valentine to love, but rather that IF you had a Valentine, how would you love? I was single on pretty much every Valentines Day of my life up until I met Lloyd (had a couple of good ones with my ex-fiance, although for some strange reason he thought it appropriate to get me "Happy Secretaries Day" orange balloons to go with the roses he brought. It still makes me laugh when I remember. I longed for a Valentine, but just didn't have one. I did however, send Valentines to other people (friends and family) that I love. I don't care if it's a day marked on the calendar that reminds you to let the ones you love know how much you care for them. Is it ever a bad day to do that?<br />
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Oh, but I've strayed. How very unlike me. (yes, sarcasm implied). Back to the Amazon Wishlist. Did you know that you can add things to your Amazon Wishlist that aren't necessarily sold by Amazon? Yeah, it's great. I've been doing it for a couple of years now. It's called a Universal Wishlist and you can get it by clicking <a href="http://www.amazon.com/wishlist/get-button">here</a>. You have to have already set up <a href="http://www.amazon.com/wishlist">a regular Amazon Wishlist</a> (it's free), but once you have, you can add the Universal Wishlist Button to your browser menu. Next time you're enjoying your shopping on Etsy.com, you can save an item to your Amazon Wishlist by clicking on the Universal Wishlist Button. Viola! It adds it to your wishlist account. I love modern technology!<br />
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So I'm so excited because my honey is coming home soon and he's already planned (made reservations even) for a date! Wow! He is getting so good at this. I wasn't even supposed to be writing such a long blog post because I need to get my "outside face" on. But, in all my zest for Valentine's Day, I thought of giving you, my reader, something as a token of my appreciation for following me and commenting to me, and sharing with me.<br />
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<div>Okay, so without further adieu, I love you blogland peeps, family, friends. I appreciate your support. Happy Valentine's Day! (See next separate post for my small gift to you.)</div><div><br />
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</div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-69057149017061880222011-02-07T00:33:00.000-06:002011-02-07T00:33:03.996-06:00I Live and Love With My Whole Heart -- And It's Okay!I had a great conversation with my husband, Lloyd, this evening. Lloyd is one of the most loving and generous men I've ever known. I'm so thankful to be married to him and love him deeply. I feel like he's my greatest blessing from a Heavenly Father who loves me. That being said, it doesn't mean that we never struggle. Face it, if you're married to a man, there WILL be struggles at times. No sexism intended. Well, okay, maybe just a little... Men and women, as we all know, are just "wired" differently. In general, men are not the "communicators" that women seem inherently born to be.<br />
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Sometimes I get frustrated with Lloyd because he keeps a lot inside. A third of that is that he's an introvert by nature. Another 33% of it is that he is an only child and the majority of his "conversations" in life are between the characters in the books he reads. The remaining half is that he's just a man--a man who believes it is his sacred duty to "protect" his wife from all hardship and pain. So, inevitably, he doesn't communicate to me the way I would like him to and that results in frustration and my feelings getting hurt at times. Now, if you know me at all, you know I'm a sensitive soul. It isn't necessarily the hardest thing in the world to wound me emotionally. I own that. (Don't, however, label me as "moody" because I view that as a negative word tactless people throw out to absolve themselves of wrongdoing rather than seeking forgiveness for their lack of sensitivity.) However, the good thing about me is that I am a communicator. If my feelings are injured, and I care enough about the other person to even bother, I will tell him what I'm feeling and we can talk things out. Another good thing about me is that I'm very empathetic and I don't hold grudges very well. Once I start talking with said person, I usually come to understand why he said X thing and my empathy kicks in until I'm no longer hurt. I now UNDERSTAND and that's usually all it takes (although, admittedly, a sincere apology always helps speed the enlightenment and healing.)<br />
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Over the last couple of days Lloyd and I have had a few "misunderstandings". A large part of it is probably due to my having cabin fever (couped up inside due to icy roads and poor weather conditions). Another part is likely a result of the pressure of his job right now. Tonight came the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back" , but thankfully we were able to take some time to sit down and talk things out. <br />
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I'm so blessed to have a husband who cares about communication. Lloyd was married before. He explains that he and his former wife had very poor communication and that was part of their marital problems. He vowed that if he ever fell in love again, before deciding to remarry, he would be sure that the object of his affection would be a good communicator. He knew he wasn't inherently the best at communicating, but recognized the importance of it in relationships, especially marriage. During our whirlwind courtship (we met and were married within the course of 8 months--and would've married sooner had it been possible), situations arose that were challenging. He said he knew he loved me the first time one such situation arose and we worked through it together honestly and openly. We're on our 7th year of marriage now and we still try to always maintain that standard in resolving conflicts or other challenges. We're not perfect, but we try.<br />
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I intermittently follow a psychologist online, <a href="http://www.ordinarycourage.com/welcome/">Dr. Brene Brown, PhD</a>. I have a couple of her books and the things she talks about really make sense to me. The quote of the week on her blog is by C.S. Lewis and couldn't be more applicable to what I am feeling this weekend in my relationship with my husband. It is equally valuable for me to remember in all of life's relationships.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQIohK2IHLhZcpIwUjf990vCAhG5i6l-yUbfQo6nAoNLffg0uL_Z69HVMweHX5dquEsi59WIVgBIByhVF4kzu_T4sQt9ipg3xQNW7D53Ufgq9XlnE-YXxjfyRjw6F4bKy4fpCN7Yl6-Yb/s1600/To+Love+by+C.S.+Lewis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQIohK2IHLhZcpIwUjf990vCAhG5i6l-yUbfQo6nAoNLffg0uL_Z69HVMweHX5dquEsi59WIVgBIByhVF4kzu_T4sQt9ipg3xQNW7D53Ufgq9XlnE-YXxjfyRjw6F4bKy4fpCN7Yl6-Yb/s400/To+Love+by+C.S.+Lewis.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I grew up in a family where I felt that being openly loving, vulnerable, and honest were wrong. When I was being myself, inevitably, it caused problems. Ergo, throughout the course of my adult life, I've tried unsuccessfully over and over to close my heart so it wouldn't get hurt. But, because of who I was born to be, I've yet to be fully able to accomplish the task. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwkZDmZlKlCMxPyL-kPM18IEHInuATOGuqAAmrJC37n_UsBuEo6edCMtRLUv0cR6pSH80XC-Kr81WN0OuHnIFZM6GuZ1usVURMO2cEx15EmtNQZ5p-QdG6MGG_CzscDtvWv68oLxZpAGcc/s1600/Morgan+Weistling+The+Promise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwkZDmZlKlCMxPyL-kPM18IEHInuATOGuqAAmrJC37n_UsBuEo6edCMtRLUv0cR6pSH80XC-Kr81WN0OuHnIFZM6GuZ1usVURMO2cEx15EmtNQZ5p-QdG6MGG_CzscDtvWv68oLxZpAGcc/s640/Morgan+Weistling+The+Promise.jpg" width="440" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morgan Weistling - The Promise</td></tr>
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Now, I'm trying to learn that for me, success is about being vulnerable--about loving fully and freely, in spite of the pain that inevitably accompanies such love. It hurts so much at times and I cry bigger crocodile tears than anyone I know. But, I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that this is a good thing. It's good to be who I am. Being "sensitive" is ok. It's better than ok. Being sensitive and vulnerable, in my mind anyway, means that I'm attempting to be more Christlike. We know from The Bible that Christ was perfect in his love for others (John 15:3). We also know from the book of Isaiah, that he has felt our pain and borne our sorrows (Isaiah 53:4). If we are to emulate Christ and live his example, then shouldn't we, too, be willing to open our hearts, even if it means that at times we will experience pain by so doing? I think it does. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLtr1qt27StCZErgACwBdhKKGYbC_ke2TzPpjoxIVBZ3GFqDlGOVd-HOnOG2RbLhLqcNJU0LwL9p13oiuXAcOLJWJEmvYk9xd74UVwTAnAjyMNFQElfdQdJ6wNTMqGe4c1J9VuLUu8trJ/s1600/Greg++Olsen+Hand+in+Hand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLtr1qt27StCZErgACwBdhKKGYbC_ke2TzPpjoxIVBZ3GFqDlGOVd-HOnOG2RbLhLqcNJU0LwL9p13oiuXAcOLJWJEmvYk9xd74UVwTAnAjyMNFQElfdQdJ6wNTMqGe4c1J9VuLUu8trJ/s400/Greg++Olsen+Hand+in+Hand.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hand in Hand - Greg Olsen</td></tr>
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When feelings are hurt or I feel alone or unloved, I'm going to try to remember that this is okay. It's part of being a loving and vulnerable being--even part of trying to follow the Savior's example. I shouldn't fear the pain that inexorably will at times accompany being a loving and vulnerable person. Perfect love casteth out fear (1 John 4:18). If I continue to try to <a href="http://www.brenebrown.com/badge/">live openly with my whole heart </a>, then my fear of being hurt should diminish. Sadness and sorrow should turn to joy. Who wants their heart in a casket anyway?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoj2Qdo0VB0ErPYfjwRhnfLM8rO7f_Ig3MH63N-6F-iJp9T92lgWS1fA0qDC1QRJ6ubaHQB_pV0huFh9uybld1Ce3rHbglogxaq-9oLLMGKsPlMfQ7qq-SPypStO1wH7q1tCviL0JRF11f/s1600/Brene+Brown+Live+and+Love+Whole+Heart+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoj2Qdo0VB0ErPYfjwRhnfLM8rO7f_Ig3MH63N-6F-iJp9T92lgWS1fA0qDC1QRJ6ubaHQB_pV0huFh9uybld1Ce3rHbglogxaq-9oLLMGKsPlMfQ7qq-SPypStO1wH7q1tCviL0JRF11f/s400/Brene+Brown+Live+and+Love+Whole+Heart+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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</div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-74487050455261799202011-01-25T13:38:00.000-06:002011-01-25T13:38:03.442-06:00I believe<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rabzPmyoR5E?fs=1" width="425"></iframe></div><br />
Came across this song by ERA called "I Believe". It is one of the most moving pieces I've come across in a long time --and music moves me often. I had to share. Close your eyes and just listen and feel. This is the kind of beautiful that gives meaning to life.Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-35133291937178414042010-11-22T11:36:00.002-06:002010-11-22T13:36:34.207-06:00Good FriendsTonight I had a few girlfriends over to play games. It was just a small group of us, but I had the most wonderful time. You know how good it feels when you are around honest, open, and <a href="http://tolberts.org/lori/">good people</a>? It makes you just almost giddy inside to connect with others who "get" you. I'm soooooo thankful for the many friends Heavenly Father has blessed me with in my life, and hope to always continue cultivating those and new friendships.<br />
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Similarly, last weekend a group of 8 of us went on a retreat to Tyler Texas' <a href="http://www.memorylaneinn.com/">Memory Lane Inn</a>. The Inn is an old early 1900 house that has been completely renovated inside. It was GORGEOUS and comfortable. We had such a wonderful time together. We may not have gotten as much crafting done as we would have liked, but it's all about the camaraderie, right? My recently <a href="http://www.stampington.com/somersetlife/">published</a> friend (can you tell how proud of her I am?), <a href="http://www.lifeisabeautifulplacetobe.blogspot.com/">Alisa Noble</a> was my suite mate (she's so easy to stay over with--no snoring, not an overly light sleeper.) Also part of our awesome group were <a href="http://thepinkblossom.blogspot.com/">Marie Jenkins</a> (an amazing talented lady who knows a lot about living); <a href="http://creatingmyselfcreatively.blogspot.com/">Cami Dilsaver</a> (a strong, independent woman with a heart the size of Texas...and then some); Liesl Milford (a Louisiana-bred hoot and a holler all rolled up into one funny gal) Dana Suza (truly and ARTIST--she sees life through an amazing pair of eyes), and <a href="http://pinkfishdesigns.com/store/">Shannon Martinson</a> (Pink Fish Designs jewelry crafter). Most of these gals are friends I met just from being involved in various art groups and projects in the area. I am always in awe of the creative talent that surrounds me. I even get envious at times--but then I have to remember we all have different talents. I, for example, have excellent penmanship. <br />
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But the best part of the retreat wasn't just being there for 3 days devoted wholly to creating, although that in itself is pretty noteworthy. The amazing stories I heard from these women's lives filled me with such gratitude and admiration. As I listened to one lady recount the horror of her son being burned by a car explosion in a mechanic shop (and the months and months of pain and hardship they went through afterward), I felt such a love for this woman. The things she'd gone through had been really really hard, but she was so gracious and strong in sharing. I admire the strength she's gained from going through this, and other difficult life challenges. I also felt my heart fill with compassion as I listened to another woman recount a part of her life when her children were very young. Her husband, unfortunately, chose to take his own life, leaving behind a family with no form of support. It wasn't enough that she had to fight through the grief, sorrow, and even anger of the situation. On top of that, she was then faced with the realization that she was the SOLE provider for these young babes. I listened to her stories of the multiple jobs she took on, just to provide food and shelter for the children--going down the way, pulling her kids in a wagon, trying to sell dried flowers. At one point, even her own brother-in-law and his wife tried to come and "help" her by offering to take her newborn baby off her hands. Can you imagine? She clung tightly to those little ones and never slept more than a few hours a night, making sure she did everything in her power to keep them safe and well. When I see a woman overcome such hardship and not only survive, but come out victorious, I am filled with the deepest feelings of respect and kinship for her. It makes me feel better as a woman, to know there are others out there who have difficult life problems, but are overcoming them beautifully. It's as if they're saying, "We're all in this together, Honey."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCVsi4tXzQCMI5KSLErpsAye2cQUrTy4FTOO4bW0HkeVlXugNfVMnHsktb8ZnD7XrcSboC3yhkA0JobGRgzc7u7w7VyV1Ok9L76TqnC-uai15KZM2fzsgpphtm1BlqMAkoIeM89AyWXjWW/s1600/Learning+to+Sail+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCVsi4tXzQCMI5KSLErpsAye2cQUrTy4FTOO4bW0HkeVlXugNfVMnHsktb8ZnD7XrcSboC3yhkA0JobGRgzc7u7w7VyV1Ok9L76TqnC-uai15KZM2fzsgpphtm1BlqMAkoIeM89AyWXjWW/s400/Learning+to+Sail+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To See My Creation in a Larger Format, Please Click <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/texasbass/5199341414/">Here</a></td></tr>
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As I'm going along in my life trying to overcome problems new and old, it's such a boost to my spirit to be with other women who are facing their own challenges--but are succeeding. I'm thankful to those who open their hearts up wide enough for me to have a peek inside and share with them. That is such a privilege.Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-91006595465428568142010-10-13T23:24:00.000-05:002010-10-13T23:24:30.683-05:00Thankfully SickIt's October, which means the beginnings of campaign commercials and radio spots. Every candidate wants us to vote for him because he's going to make a difference... And so it goes until November 2nd, when the lots are cast and the winners are chosen.<br />
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In the United States of America, we're free to choose our elected government. We have the opportunity to openly express our opinions regarding "the issues". This is a wonderful luxury that most people in the world will never experience. We all have our beliefs, what choices we think are important when it comes to voting. I have mine, too.<br />
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But today, I don't want to talk about my political viewpoints. I just want to stop and take a moment to express my gratitude for a wonderful Heavenly Father who has given me the blessing of living in this great country. America is not perfect; she is an ever-changing work in progress. But, she is still the most beautiful nation in all the world. Hoards of people have risked, and continue to risk, their very lives in attempting to set foot upon her soil. Why? Because, even with all our problems, the United States still offers every man, woman, and child OPPORTUNITY. The Great American Dream. Part of this dream is health care.<br />
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Health care is a huge topic on the forefront of our minds, as our current President and other leaders are working to drastically change the health care system in the U.S. Whether or not I agree with what is being done is not the issue for me today. Today, I am just thankful that I got the health care that I needed.<br />
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I was exhibiting symptoms of having quite a serious infection (which I have experienced in the past). The same day I decided to see a doctor, I was able to check myself in online (to avoid waiting at the doctor's office), drive less than 2 miles to the clinic, be examined and treated all within the course of 2 hours. Wow. Is that not amazing? <br />
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Sometimes I catch myself grumbling about some of the laws and policy changes. I talk about how our government needs to do this or change that. But, as I was driving home from work today, no doubt prompted by one of those aforementioned radio spots, I couldn't help but feel gratitude for what I have been given. I can't begin to understand the pain and poverty that so many other of God's beautiful children experience in the world. Though by no means rich, I can't remember a single time in my life when some form of healthcare wasn't available to me when I needed it. Even today, the homeless and penniless in the U.S. can walk into any emergency room and be served. That is AMAZING. I seem to take so much for granted. Having lived in a "bubble" most of my life (I've not traveled much outside the contiguous United States), I have no real concept of what pain and suffering others have experienced. I couldn't possibly understand how blessed I have been, unless I were to have lived and died as they have lived and died. <br />
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I am thankful, though. I am so thankful. My antibiotics, though somewhat nauseating, will certainly take away my maladies, leaving me healthy and happy in a matter of just a few short days. To those living in 3rd world countries, where even clean drinking water is scarce, to experience this would be nothing short of miraculous. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIZ18z9bf0EIWHW3BFnKqo9K2ZhL-I6p6DHBcD1EcawGop26o_LUZNa4eWAyLZksslzl2n1dkMqaYvqoV_KMXfKB7Fl8VBDojgcv_WaywgfLzDg2Qf8lmAYnUCrSL8OC6AW2RtP8yRfhd3/s1600/6a0120a6a93724970b012876221b55970c-800wi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIZ18z9bf0EIWHW3BFnKqo9K2ZhL-I6p6DHBcD1EcawGop26o_LUZNa4eWAyLZksslzl2n1dkMqaYvqoV_KMXfKB7Fl8VBDojgcv_WaywgfLzDg2Qf8lmAYnUCrSL8OC6AW2RtP8yRfhd3/s400/6a0120a6a93724970b012876221b55970c-800wi.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I don't know why I have been blessed to live in this nation, while so many others have not. Certainly, I am no more loved than any of God's children. Neither do I understand why I've been given such bounty, while my brothers and sisters throughout the world are trying to just SURVIVE. I don't think I'll ever understand it. The very least I can do, however, is take a small moment to express my humble gratitude; to remember what it really means to live in the United States of America.Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-61755798586911272702010-09-08T01:48:00.001-05:002010-09-08T01:50:03.921-05:00Home Sweet Home<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Well, for the long Labor Day holiday weekend, Lloyd and I didn't do anything "special". After a busy week of applications and interviews, I was definitely ready to just kick back and be HOME. I guess it's a good thing that HOME is the place I'd most like to be the majority of the time. We create our homes to be just such havens, do we not? <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Here's a beautiful home I always loved in my hometown of Springfield, Missouri: </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>The Fellows Home</i></span></span></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpXiga-SFLPFRVAl9A0gqDoczqVmuDw6bhkWmclcjqOazuvz5xMAIquNUqAR5IkceL3yUbmLz1_62RpJ_lVagvbPI-hoRzCOOpSaXi4uLEgkAMFkyZL-7y3HGroqmxmPc7gwG2i6nb_PM/s1600/Fellows+House+Springfield+Missouri.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpXiga-SFLPFRVAl9A0gqDoczqVmuDw6bhkWmclcjqOazuvz5xMAIquNUqAR5IkceL3yUbmLz1_62RpJ_lVagvbPI-hoRzCOOpSaXi4uLEgkAMFkyZL-7y3HGroqmxmPc7gwG2i6nb_PM/s400/Fellows+House+Springfield+Missouri.jpg" width="337" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The thing I love <b>most </b>about my HOME is that my husband is here with me. I know, it's cheesy, but it's true. We just like to be around each other, even if we don't speak for hours at a time. I can be in my craft room or on my computer, and he can be playing video games or on his computer, and that's fine. But we just like to have the other's presence nearby. <br />
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The other thing I especially like about my HOME is that it has all my favorite things to DO so I never get bored. I love having a computer at hand for anything I can conceive of doing: surfing, shopping, designing, emailing, chatting, etc. When we travel away (I don't have a laptop yet), I miss my computer more than anything. What's your favorite part about being HOME? What makes your home special to you?</div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-85069501276099620152010-09-07T18:21:00.005-05:002010-09-07T18:32:43.718-05:00Catching Up on CreativityLately I've been in a "finish it" mood. I've got dozens (no exaggeration) of crafty projects either unfinished or still in a "to do" pile. In an effort to organize, I've been trying to finish these projects up little by little. Besides, I paid good money for the classes to learn how to create the project. It's like money wasted if I don't actually CREATE the project. So, today I am showing you a few of the projects I finished this weekend.<br />
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LE BELLE BOUTIQUE<br />
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This was the only class I took at <a href="http://papercowgirl.blogspot.com/2010/01/paper-cowgirl-2010-is-on.html">Paper Cowgirl</a> this year. <a href="http://cindygilstrap.typepad.com/junqueart/">Cindy Gilstrap</a> is an oh-so-talented lady who lives just down the road in McKinney TX. Incidentally, she will be teaching this <a href="http://thestudioatsmitten.blogspot.com/2010/08/fall-classes.html">class</a> again in October at one of our favorite vintage-inspired boutiques, <a href="http://www.smitteninmckinney.com/index.php">Smitten</a>, on the downtown McKinney square. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqrEqX5VjZIyyQZQxP0SfKM4wXcIG4nmM28JFbU72CeSGx2AaLKWSexhlN8yYESIyyxCe1pi9zW356lTUYFVqBVnOeR6-fGEuNppg4QkA5AXYOQn7t6F9hNdvMXGWS7vwpIXCQIz39OqF9/s1600/Le+Belle+Boutique+Taught+by+Cindy+Gilstrap+04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqrEqX5VjZIyyQZQxP0SfKM4wXcIG4nmM28JFbU72CeSGx2AaLKWSexhlN8yYESIyyxCe1pi9zW356lTUYFVqBVnOeR6-fGEuNppg4QkA5AXYOQn7t6F9hNdvMXGWS7vwpIXCQIz39OqF9/s400/Le+Belle+Boutique+Taught+by+Cindy+Gilstrap+04.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />
The skirt of the dress was created from strips cut from a vintage dress pattern. I inked the edges with chestnut roan colored ink before gluing them to the styrofoam half dressform adhered to the canvas. I believe Cindy mentioned that Cerri of <a href="http://www.littlepinkstudio.typepad.com/">Little Pink Studio</a> sells these at her shop. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXH2nw_A_BuWVHST2_791Z_3Kl3RgTJabDrOGexmJSm9GRZ77zzeNTecy027WM7WEkP47IJxT-gjBMF2kw-yQmuhh0m5Uh7ZJ81jlZ16xJFYAFFq1YRdx0jeQ311MKmmhR3JYo04qFMkyc/s1600/Le+Belle+Boutique+Taught+by+Cindy+Gilstrap+02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXH2nw_A_BuWVHST2_791Z_3Kl3RgTJabDrOGexmJSm9GRZ77zzeNTecy027WM7WEkP47IJxT-gjBMF2kw-yQmuhh0m5Uh7ZJ81jlZ16xJFYAFFq1YRdx0jeQ311MKmmhR3JYo04qFMkyc/s400/Le+Belle+Boutique+Taught+by+Cindy+Gilstrap+02.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On the bodice, I used old primary school lined paper Cindy brought with her. I liked the pinstripe effect they brought to the dress. This spoke vintage French fashion to me. Additionally, I decided to create a neck ruffle and pearl "buttons" to complete the blouse. I really like how those little details added something special to the outfit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQoW3t_ubNTvfDV0vyw82Kyc_cVbEymm1nTPL0xpsClP560F0lcae2VSsbi3nQBPe8AKwoiurrAef_wpKLCtegaj_ZSG2jyBEXQuZS-MP-Enyu3aUizb_4c23p_H3OO4TGRqHRNbR2MsNu/s1600/Le+Belle+Boutique+Taught+by+Cindy+Gilstrap+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQoW3t_ubNTvfDV0vyw82Kyc_cVbEymm1nTPL0xpsClP560F0lcae2VSsbi3nQBPe8AKwoiurrAef_wpKLCtegaj_ZSG2jyBEXQuZS-MP-Enyu3aUizb_4c23p_H3OO4TGRqHRNbR2MsNu/s400/Le+Belle+Boutique+Taught+by+Cindy+Gilstrap+01.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I surely liked the finished product. Thanks, Cindy! Now, if I could ever get my dining room makeover complete, I'd have somewhere to hang this cutie.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">PRIMITIVES</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My other big project I completed this weekend was my "Prim" doll. A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to be able to attend an AMAZING 3-day workshop at "The Church" in Dallas. Debbie and Shea are the most talented and gracious ladies around. If you haven't heard of them, they're this mother-daughter duo from California, who we were lucky enough to receive a few years ago in our Texas Heartland. Shea's husband is in real estate and together, they had the vision to restore an old broken down Methodist church (we're talking, windows shot out, animals living inside, rusty plumbing) into an unforgettable <a href="http://whathappensnext.typepad.com/what_happens_next/2010/06/where-bloggers-create.html">studio</a> and <a href="http://whathappensnext.typepad.com/what_happens_next/">home</a>. Aside from being astounded by the beauty and grace of their home, I enjoyed great friends, great food, and great classes during the retreat. <a href="http://colleenmoody.blogspot.com/">Colleen Moody</a> taught us how to make a doll, like the "Prims" she is known for. It was actually a pretty arduous task and took more time than most "class projects" do. But, I'm not complaining. I feel like I really LEARNED something completely new for the first time. Though I didn't complete my doll at the retreat, I finally got her finished up this weekend! I'm thrilled that I even managed to get the wings sewn on properly. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDc2Qf_E90XAlcjRn_JXM54hzysq9WVVue95sYLW9HS_FIK_cjHpBDGbVjrEEbQYgP1go7WBYXdLe1y7grb_sL2qdE_QON6ZAEvhjjc5GdSEwi0gW4P6CxqzabudRQ6UF33PSKNHHDoqNh/s1600/My+PRIM+taught+by+Colleen+Moody+July+2010+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDc2Qf_E90XAlcjRn_JXM54hzysq9WVVue95sYLW9HS_FIK_cjHpBDGbVjrEEbQYgP1go7WBYXdLe1y7grb_sL2qdE_QON6ZAEvhjjc5GdSEwi0gW4P6CxqzabudRQ6UF33PSKNHHDoqNh/s400/My+PRIM+taught+by+Colleen+Moody+July+2010+3.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Here is the overall finished product.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6SMZsoGEB03tIDjzdk6yJL4fAbOuPuumqZqHCbWyFUUoWKXJu8WzY9Duf_6S1p6-senAmzYtzFPs3Xp9Xo0x4DF2lglN4UJyZVyo94_uHAVL9Ro2tt338IKrTeoXPgxMug2XOsR1x929p/s1600/My+PRIM+taught+by+Colleen+Moody+July+2010+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6SMZsoGEB03tIDjzdk6yJL4fAbOuPuumqZqHCbWyFUUoWKXJu8WzY9Duf_6S1p6-senAmzYtzFPs3Xp9Xo0x4DF2lglN4UJyZVyo94_uHAVL9Ro2tt338IKrTeoXPgxMug2XOsR1x929p/s400/My+PRIM+taught+by+Colleen+Moody+July+2010+8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAp4FF3K8JSDzkKRsl4iTyrSVjbVFLIz_A5cV4b_fe2GXDp1A54fWcf0dQ0SmQyFRH9MrQWKwfFHtLQSMTg4mdYg_8QAf_E-sPf8YuqUU1Ed2GQ1uMFHhIC7O-XNIbsLBwqI0zfrpG3DHA/s1600/My+PRIM+taught+by+Colleen+Moody+July+2010+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAp4FF3K8JSDzkKRsl4iTyrSVjbVFLIz_A5cV4b_fe2GXDp1A54fWcf0dQ0SmQyFRH9MrQWKwfFHtLQSMTg4mdYg_8QAf_E-sPf8YuqUU1Ed2GQ1uMFHhIC7O-XNIbsLBwqI0zfrpG3DHA/s400/My+PRIM+taught+by+Colleen+Moody+July+2010+7.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">This is really my favorite part: the underdress stuff. I used a sleeve from a dress I'd had, to create her bodice and hanging down slip under her skirt. Under her slip are a pair of bloomers I fashioned from another odd piece of clothing I had. It had chenille dots and delicate tat work that made for lovely bloomer legs. My mom would be so proud of my bird wearing a slip, as she thinks it's immodest the way nowadays most women (including myself) fail to wear slips under their dresses.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEituGH76XJt3w4EzMYahF11buQKeDFsZ8uBgzQue_vnjbS9UU70MwBXsjEDG90VJbC3ZDULwvejsOSdbT-NxH9JbkM0rSz_zlt14l3h-b1f9OPu7p2_7lfJ-oU5VUftD_ws6z2Qkbm_Kx9V/s1600/My+PRIM+taught+by+Colleen+Moody+July+2010+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEituGH76XJt3w4EzMYahF11buQKeDFsZ8uBgzQue_vnjbS9UU70MwBXsjEDG90VJbC3ZDULwvejsOSdbT-NxH9JbkM0rSz_zlt14l3h-b1f9OPu7p2_7lfJ-oU5VUftD_ws6z2Qkbm_Kx9V/s400/My+PRIM+taught+by+Colleen+Moody+July+2010+10.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Here you can see the back of my bird's dress. What initially attracted me to the sleeve I used as the bodice (which just happened to fit around her perfectly) were the little pearl buttons. They were the perfect thing! I added some velvet trim to the top of the bodice (which was really just cheap Wal-mart ribbon I had soaked in a potion of red food color and brown tea to get that perfect peachy color.) I also had a piece of CZ chain I'd received from the generous Shea to add a little BLING BLING. Jewelry always completes a look, in my opinion.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZOhWfJcD_1eJiebDkBQE5EIW5LePtgBhnulTSQd1hEyU55xK451Tl_sNORJ6apFNR7FMx8qKACCgE-TpTs1XSNHJrr78ZZ4AonBVH8IEuq8IV1DElWohLIKem0987D3wpw94v3a_JkCV3/s1600/My+PRIM+taught+by+Colleen+Moody+July+2010+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZOhWfJcD_1eJiebDkBQE5EIW5LePtgBhnulTSQd1hEyU55xK451Tl_sNORJ6apFNR7FMx8qKACCgE-TpTs1XSNHJrr78ZZ4AonBVH8IEuq8IV1DElWohLIKem0987D3wpw94v3a_JkCV3/s400/My+PRIM+taught+by+Colleen+Moody+July+2010+2.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And the "crowing" achievement: her crown. The base is Dresden trim. I added vintage accordian folded sheet music, a vintage pin, a few "diamonds" and my favorite color of Stickles--Platinum. My crown is actually quite basic compared to some of the crowns the other ladies created for their birds!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Any ideas for names? She needs a name. I can't just keep calling her "bird". </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, that's it for now, but I've got other projects to finish and blog about. I'll keep you posted!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-86602302769582182862010-08-31T22:43:00.000-05:002010-08-31T22:43:04.809-05:00I Quit!The thing is, I'm not a quitter. I'm a fighter. I have dogged determination and tenacity. I like to believe that with enough perseverance and hard work, eventually even the worst situation can be become positive.<br />
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However, I'm old enough and mature enough in my life now to understand that some things just don't change, no matter what you do to affect them. That is because every person in this world has the gift of agency. I am a huge advocate for agency, I would never want anyone to suffer life without it. Life without agency is hopelessness. <br />
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So, with that being said, I quit. I quit my job yesterday. I just walked out. No goodbyes, no see ya laters, no hasta luegos. I packed up my stuff, laid my keys on the desk and just simply walked away. And you know what? It feels good. Really good.<br />
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Sure, I'm a bit scared about what will come. I don't have a job lined up yet, though I've been looking. I expect there will be financial struggle for a time. I will probably have to sacrifice a lot of things for a while. All that being considered, I'm still happy I left.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2CqX_aSxJx2AwZYe6Whwz2lYApXNT115bDU4D4sfhnGvteLe_skkCYhonLuVwH9BGjousSGR1xKjc9wlgicZTskPFI0YilUccSy2Akz1lO6tIqlMFbXVguMVPfab76OimYG1ktlqXGAr/s1600/Quote+Rectangle+Rose+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2CqX_aSxJx2AwZYe6Whwz2lYApXNT115bDU4D4sfhnGvteLe_skkCYhonLuVwH9BGjousSGR1xKjc9wlgicZTskPFI0YilUccSy2Akz1lO6tIqlMFbXVguMVPfab76OimYG1ktlqXGAr/s400/Quote+Rectangle+Rose+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*****Above was what happened. Below are my thoughts about it. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You choose how much you care to read.*****</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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My boss for the last 4 months has been a nightmare. Although I find him to be charismatic and hardworking, his social skills and leadership abilities are very limited. He can be the funniest, nicest guy you ever knew one day, and then the next he would go on tirades and belittle everyone around him. I have nothing against bipolar people. It's not their fault. I just wish he'd get some help for it, so he doesn't continue to make all those around him miserable in the process.<br />
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Yesterday he said something to me that was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever said to me, or the worst experience I'd ever had there. But it was the last. All of a sudden, I just knew I was DONE. I could no longer remain on this emotional roller coaster ride with him. He was sucking the happiness and creativity out of me. Every day at work I'd walk on eggshells waiting to see what was next...because there was always a "next".<br />
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As I was driving home, with a few tears running down my cheeks, I realized that I'd made the right decision. I don't wish to say my situation was as bad as domestic abuse situations, wherein a woman (and sometimes children) is regularly abused (verbally, emotionally, and physically). The pain these women suffer is far greater than what I have experienced, and I applaud those who are able to get away. But, in a way, I felt like that's what I was doing--escaping an abusive situation. I wasn't dealing with a rational and emotionally sound person. When he was angry or upset, he would take it out on those around him, as he didn't have the skills to deal with his feelings appropriately. I realized that I am not that person. I won't be that person who continues to stay in such a situation simply because she is scared. I am scared. I don't know what will happen. But I do know that I would rather sacrifice a lot of things and struggle for as long as I have to, than continue to be treated so poorly. I deserve that. Everyone deserves that dignity and respect. It's just sometimes, you have to stand up and fight for it. Most of the time, it's not about fighting another person, but fighting your own fears, weaknesses and insecurities. It's about making yourself believe that you are worth it. That your happiness and wellbeing are paramount. That's a hard thing to do, especially for women, as their very nature is that of giving, serving, and sacrifice. So often women put themselves last, as they give their all to care for their families. The notion of doing something for herself can be almost beyond comprehension for the woman who have given every bit of who she is to her children and family.<br />
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My mom stayed with my dad, through abuse and infidelity, for 35 years until she finally gained the strength to leave him. From my preteen years well into my thirties, I couldn't understand why she put up with it. I judged her so harshly for staying with someone who could treat those around him, including his children, with such disregard. <br />
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As I've matured, I've come to understand more things about the intricacies of the pull of the relationship vs. the personal power within. Whether it be a relationship with food, drugs, alcohol, an abusive mate, or even just feeling stuck in our lives, I think most everyone struggles to overcome the binding ties that keep us in that relationship. We doubt our own personal power to break free of what we know, no matter how miserable we may be, because we fear the unknown.<br />
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Yesterday, I understood even a little bit better than I ever have before. I know how scary it was for me to quit (as, like I said, I have never been a quitter), not knowing when or from whence the next job was coming. I can only begin to imagine the gripping fear that a mother with small children must face when she thinks of leaving her abusive situation. Not only can she be paralyzed by fear about her own future, she knows she must also be responsible for her children's well-being. That's a HUGE risk to take. So sometimes, as miserable as it may be, she may continue to sacrifice her own happiness and well-being, because she can't risk not being able to provide the essentials for her children. I don't like it, but I understand it a little more clearly than I ever have before. <br />
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With this new insight, and the opportunity to practice faith instead of fear, I am thankful for this challenge in my life. It has, and will, make me a stronger person. I will be more confident, more compassionate, and more faithful.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrErE84PTKf_POf698oGbRuvzC9v5RnGrR8ZAoDWxgl-aI406orFgYyUsdJ9AtxzaxfYh9eyzj-Mhs9R2cDbYtidRZ2wLVNMEMrqAprbw4lMdCqPYPkn_M7EHq0e6whM2ShevBkE8rF_z/s1600/Quote+Rectangle+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrErE84PTKf_POf698oGbRuvzC9v5RnGrR8ZAoDWxgl-aI406orFgYyUsdJ9AtxzaxfYh9eyzj-Mhs9R2cDbYtidRZ2wLVNMEMrqAprbw4lMdCqPYPkn_M7EHq0e6whM2ShevBkE8rF_z/s400/Quote+Rectangle+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-65895461435079772212010-07-28T00:38:00.000-05:002010-07-28T00:38:01.843-05:00Excitement and ResolveShort and Sweet:<br />
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All I can say is how excited I am about my retreat this weekend at "The Church". Incidentally, several friends are going and I can't wait to meet up with them and CREATE! My job has been stressful for the last couple of months, so I haven't been writing much. Mostly it's my crazy boss' fault for making my life difficult. Two words: BI POLAR. (Him, not me!)<br />
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Anyway, here's where I'm going: <a href="http://whathappensnext.typepad.com/what_happens_next/2010/05/the-gilded-nest.html">The Gilded Nest</a>. Here's a couple of things we'll be creating (pictures courtesy of The Gilded Nest.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4Z4_nBBSUWK4XDCXV6kVtytAa9GDm6-LaPHoi55ZgSsn9vbCft55idwGLwieQT39HJjlKmkcnvhuos1K6B_Zj9wHwCkIuDiWtAkERk90tF_e9Mtf26WQVH1pU80_e_yFiOtvnTqwzAlA/s1600/hopebracelet.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4Z4_nBBSUWK4XDCXV6kVtytAa9GDm6-LaPHoi55ZgSsn9vbCft55idwGLwieQT39HJjlKmkcnvhuos1K6B_Zj9wHwCkIuDiWtAkERk90tF_e9Mtf26WQVH1pU80_e_yFiOtvnTqwzAlA/s320/hopebracelet.bmp" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">HOPE Bracelet--which I definitely need right now!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfupbtAS6CLKL9PrPASmp8jUbhdwBPoGMqXigFGuRBd6GrhnSe_nwbqFMEidUA6rZX7WywiQsxtiobf5F8yqMNEgWPbn32qPX7wtEAC5WtE_r6RqPUi-YKmA_ClgYrvVDZm1jMnQrbYujo/s1600/colleenmoodyprim.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfupbtAS6CLKL9PrPASmp8jUbhdwBPoGMqXigFGuRBd6GrhnSe_nwbqFMEidUA6rZX7WywiQsxtiobf5F8yqMNEgWPbn32qPX7wtEAC5WtE_r6RqPUi-YKmA_ClgYrvVDZm1jMnQrbYujo/s320/colleenmoodyprim.bmp" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Prims by Colleen Moody</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So excited. When things are going rough, three things make me feel better: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A) Being wrapped in my husband's arms.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">B) Prayer and Singing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">C) Creating Something Wonderful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So thankful to have a life where I can enjoy all three. I should be better about counting my blessings, such as these. Resolved.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To those who have continued to "follow" me (even though I haven't posted since April), THANK YOU! Thank you for checking in on me every so often. And thank you for your kind comments. I know I've been a slacker at replying to everyone, but please forgive me. I DO SO appreciate your words. I'll be better at that in the future. Again, Resolved.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-80457643274639749772010-04-14T01:48:00.002-05:002010-04-14T01:51:37.401-05:00Death & TaxesFinished! Thank you to the geniuses at Intuit for creating Turbo Tax Deluxe! (Did I mention my husband has worked for Intuit? :) This is me tonight (1:33am) doing the happy jig:<br />
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<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8VlQ_cdsJI/AAAAAAAAA4k/1NbkxOm9RR8/s1600-h/Dancing%20Queen%5B3%5D.jpg"><img alt="Dancing Queen" border="0" height="521" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8VlRc4wnVI/AAAAAAAAA4o/_OGLmJlirh4/Dancing%20Queen_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline;" title="Dancing Queen" width="388" /></a>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-69986657936608485322010-04-12T23:49:00.003-05:002010-04-12T23:55:56.071-05:00May Day Petite Basket SwapRecently I’ve enjoyed participating in a few different online swaps. The latest of these (<a href="http://fatedfollies.blogspot.com/2010/02/may-day-petite-basket-swap.html">May Day Petite Basket Swap</a>) is being hosted by the wonderful, Jenny Fowler, of <a href="http://fatedfollies.blogspot.com/">Fated Follies</a>. The idea was to get a “petite” basket and fill it with little vintage goodies for your assigned swap partner. You may see an obvious pattern in the swaps I’ve been electing to participate in (small, small, small). <br />
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Over the last month or so, I’ve enjoyed collecting items for my swap partner, Stephanie Lewin of <a href="http://www.tartdeco.blogspot.com/">TartDeco</a>, as I rummage through estate sale findings and antique store booths. You’re not always exactly sure what your partner will enjoy most, so sometimes you resort to sending items that you yourself enjoy! That was the case with me and the basket I sent this time. I sent some of my faves for creating: Vintage trims, linens, laces, ephemera, bookprint, sheet music, flowers, buttons, etc. I hope Stephanie can make use of them!<br />
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<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8P3twj_OvI/AAAAAAAAA4E/dRwY8PsBqeY/s1600-h/3%20Spring%20Petite%20Basket%20Swap%20050110%5B4%5D.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8P3uZSncPI/AAAAAAAAA4I/2PtdfiwRLe0/3%20Spring%20Petite%20Basket%20Swap%20050110_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-color: initial; border-left-style: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: initial; border-right-style: initial; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: initial; border-top-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" width="303" /></a> <br />
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I wanted to make sure the small items didn’t all fall out in transport, so I used a basket plastic for the first time. I have to say that using my heat gun to melt the plastic around the basket was very enjoyable to my inner-pyro. Here it is all sealed up and ready to go!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8P3u6kaV9I/AAAAAAAAA4M/Agc5RdPcq_0/s1600-h/4%20Spring%20Petite%20Basket%20Swap%20050110%5B7%5D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8P3vA0OirI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/SyKRET3lAtc/4%20Spring%20Petite%20Basket%20Swap%20050110_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-color: initial; border-left-style: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: initial; border-right-style: initial; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: initial; border-top-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" title="" width="303" /></a></div><br />
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And here are a couple of pictures of the petite basket I already received from that on-the-ball girl! I so appreciate her thoughtfulness in putting together this gift.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8P3vg2Vh3I/AAAAAAAAA4U/nMF595nSQgw/s1600-h/2%20Spring%20Petite%20Basket%20Swap%20050110%5B4%5D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8P3wDiHSFI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/uu9_GMY-S4I/2%20Spring%20Petite%20Basket%20Swap%20050110_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-color: initial; border-left-style: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: initial; border-right-style: initial; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: initial; border-top-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" width="302" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8P3w5xmuYI/AAAAAAAAA4c/SvBkqKGDD5k/s1600-h/1%20Spring%20Petite%20Basket%20Swap%20050110%5B4%5D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8P3xaNIrzI/AAAAAAAAA4g/wm8TkhRdp0M/1%20Spring%20Petite%20Basket%20Swap%20050110_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-color: initial; border-left-style: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: initial; border-right-style: initial; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: initial; border-top-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" width="303" /></a></div>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-75360374126866802232010-04-12T22:54:00.004-05:002010-04-12T23:28:08.258-05:00EmbroiderySo one of my most favoritest friends gifted me with the sweetest little “<a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_transaction.php?transaction_id=23820587">Stitch Along Kit</a>” from <a href="http://inspireco.blogspot.com/">Amy Powers</a> for my birthday back in January. At the time I was happy to receive it just because it was so dang tiny, which in my book always equals <i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">ADORABLE</span></b></i>. Have I mentioned my love for all things miniature? Just seeing this little kit all contained in a small round tin, complete with mini spool of black thread, mini book with instructions, and even it’s own little pair of scissors was a total delight for me. Admittedly, though, it wasn’t until last month that I actually dug it up from “THE PILE” in the craft room. You know “THE PILE”. We all have one, right? Mine has been growing since probably about August of last year. Last Saturday I finally went in my craft room and “tidied up” a bit and finished clearing away “THE PILE” altogether. Yippee! What a refreshing feeling.<br />
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But, I digress. (Which if you know me is so atypical for me—yeah right.) Anyway, so sometime last month, after seeing everyone’s posts about their <a href="http://39squares.blogspot.com/">39 Squares</a>, I was feeling a bit left out. Now, don’t get me wrong, I didn't feel left out enough to actually attempt the 39 squares project, but I figured I could be a part by working on the mini-sampler I’d received. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNAA0B_wuzI_2AApT9FcAQLM0WeFJxsyLr4IkQkPExdn5J1QnYoVtyEQQJMHOtKPLnyL5eh90iGpqOLCeDEapJaEZTGUkLtiu83bg7lDlOlnBP6I_2b71jLrzmCgCMqmZDt-PlA4aG_Xlj/s1600-h/Amy%20Hannah%20Style%20Embroidery%201%5B14%5D.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="284" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8Pws-R27hI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/_7Zlbs7xTn0/Amy%20Hannah%20Style%20Embroidery%201_thumb%5B12%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" width="376" /></a> <br />
As it turns out, I really enjoy embroidery! I’ve always admired the delicate work of others’ nimble fingers as found on vintage hankies, doilies, tablecloths, etc., but I never thought I would actually catch the “embroidery bug” as I have. Thanks, <a href="http://www.lifeisabeautifulplacetobe.blogspot.com/">Alisa</a>! It was with great delight that as I sat watching all my manufactured drama shows (I LOVE me some “REALITY” tv!), I was able to simultaneously crank out fun little stitch after stitch. I was thrilled with the ease of following Amy’s example and found great satisfaction in my completed formations. I LOVED learning how to do a French Knot and how this enabled me to make the cutest little fluffy sheep ever!<br />
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<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8PwtRWcH3I/AAAAAAAAA3c/aYIiIbDMAmk/s1600-h/Amy%20Hannah%20Style%20Embroidery%202%5B6%5D.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="267" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8PwuGgDvUI/AAAAAAAAA3g/jLHID0NzRKU/Amy%20Hannah%20Style%20Embroidery%202_thumb%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" width="394" /></a> <br />
After finishing my mini sampler, I decided to take on something slightly larger. While I’m still a complete novice and know fewer than a handful of stitches, I ventured out to create images that I find beautiful. I found a picture online somewhere of this vintage shoe and decided I could “eyeball” it. (That’s SO typical Cheryl. I don’t know why, but I have this insane belief that if I see something, I will be able to recreate it without a pattern. This overconfidence is ridiculous and I have absolutely no idea why I have it. All I know is I repeatedly fall prey to this delusion! Weird, I know.) So, I got out my thread library and went to work. <br />
It’s surprising how much time actually goes into creating something so small. One who has never stitched, would not understand how something so seemingly trivial has taken a large investment of time and concentration. I didn’t understand this, myself, until I spent countless hours on this shoe (and it’s far from perfect!) <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi4-V14CuaZU6gci7QyZ8dUChvObUJomYKJlhDKeOvWiTmhrbvE0ShmiUciZh9qIZJ9IGDpYW8zS_odd-3nUfM95DWBFQFhLctdo_y6cTw0AUn2_IrF_JtseIKX5LSjqD8iVZGLSLN8n2i/s1600-h/Cheryl%20Bass%20Style%20Embroidery%201%5B8%5D.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="257" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S8PyV5QCXPI/AAAAAAAAA38/vtx81nX_x74/Cheryl%20Bass%20Style%20Embroidery%201_thumb%5B6%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" width="379" /></a> <br />
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Knowing what I’ve invested in each piece, however, brings me greater satisfaction than I would have previously imagined. Do other stitchers feel this way, too?Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012982845940063925.post-84594455378406302352010-04-01T17:08:00.004-05:002010-04-01T17:14:24.789-05:00FriendshipToday I just wanted to state how very thankful I am for good friends. Really good friends. Friends who love me for ME. I don’t have to pretend I’m something more than what I am. They accept me with all my faults and love the good they see in me. It’s hard to find friends like that when you’re an adult. I’m so thankful Heavenly Father has blessed me with great and lasting friends. Their love and kindness give me strength when I am weak and make my heart feel lighter when it is weighed down with sorrow and discouragement. Thank you to my friends for your love. You know who you are. At least, I hope I’ve let you know how much I love and appreciate you so you DO know who you are. <br />
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Thinking of how thankful I am for friendship, I altered a couple of Vintage cards with two quotes that I like. (Click on image to see it larger / more clearly.) Enjoy.<br />
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<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S7UZUa00-rI/AAAAAAAAA2k/iqKAuQyZZTg/s1600-h/Song%20in%20Heart%5B3%5D.jpg"><img alt="Song in Heart" border="0" height="287" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S7UZU_13a4I/AAAAAAAAA2o/ouzTbvvzNfE/Song%20in%20Heart_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline;" title="Song in Heart" width="435" /></a> <br />
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And a fun one:<br />
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<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S7UZVW6mIgI/AAAAAAAAA2s/5Vzm4OaejcQ/s1600-h/Cracked%20Egg%20Friend%5B4%5D.jpg"><img alt="Cracked Egg Friend" border="0" height="297" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_MN6zvzVpgeE/S7UZV6lc7KI/AAAAAAAAA2w/QUTzsbqxxMU/Cracked%20Egg%20Friend_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline;" title="Cracked Egg Friend" width="446" /></a>Cheryl Carey Basshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05325928052505193058noreply@blogger.com12