<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172</id><updated>2012-01-24T10:07:11.885-08:00</updated><category term='the color orange'/><category term='the scent of bread'/><category term='good books'/><title type='text'>Grace for a Traveller</title><subtitle type='html'>In the Scent of Bread, Good Books, and the Color Orange</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-5090919851068844677</id><published>2009-12-15T12:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T12:49:24.241-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>Metaphors and Other Beautiful Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Syf02FjkR0I/AAAAAAAAAMk/fCC1_lXz-Zg/s1600-h/graffiti_door.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Syf02FjkR0I/AAAAAAAAAMk/fCC1_lXz-Zg/s320/graffiti_door.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415566286977779522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been talking about metaphors and allegories at our house.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It all started with &lt;i&gt;The Polar Express&lt;/i&gt;. The movie is loaded with metaphor and once we started uncovering them the kids didn't want to stop. I knew things were getting crazy when Olivia informed me that there were metaphors about sin in a Robin Hood episode of Backyardigans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the coolest thing ever was when Olivia decided to make up her own allegory.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We live, as many of you know, in somewhat of a... ahem...ghetto.  So as Aaron and I were casually commenting on some fresh graffiti, Olivia got to thinking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is her allegory (I'm not kidding. She came up with this all by herself!):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;There was a man who had a perfectly clean wall, and another man who decided to graffiti on it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;A policeman came to arrest him, and said, "I'm going to close my eyes and count to 100, and when the time is up you need to be finished cleaning off that wall or you're going to jail."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;The criminal scrubbed and scrubbed, but nothing he could do would get that graffiti off the wall.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Then the policeman gave the criminal a helper. The helper didn't just paint over the wall. He tore the whole thing down and built a brand new, clean wall.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;We are like the criminal and the graffiti is our sin. The policeman is God the Father, and the 100 seconds is the span of a lifetime. You only have a short time to make your peace with God, and then comes the judgment. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;But we cannot save ourselves, just like the man could not remove the graffiti, and so God sends a Savior. Jesus does all the work, and He does it completely. He makes our peace with God.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, it's not a perfect metaphor (none are), but it still sort of chokes me up a little. I love watching my children grow in grace!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-5090919851068844677?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/5090919851068844677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/12/metaphors-and-other-beautiful-things.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5090919851068844677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5090919851068844677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/12/metaphors-and-other-beautiful-things.html' title='Metaphors and Other Beautiful Things'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Syf02FjkR0I/AAAAAAAAAMk/fCC1_lXz-Zg/s72-c/graffiti_door.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-4393149264902357618</id><published>2009-11-28T13:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T10:35:30.168-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>A Bit of Story</title><content type='html'>Happy Thanksgiving, Friends! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was exploring in Word and found a snippet of fiction I thought it would be fun to post. I've never done this on my blog before, but there's a first time for everything. This is from a WIP (entitled &lt;i&gt;Isabelle Tuesday) &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;that is currently on hold while I'm working on something else. Isabelle is not one of the point-of-view characters-- she is more like the stone that makes the ripples in the lives of the others. Here is the POV of one of those lives, Taggart Pike, professor:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;My goal was to change the world. I was never one for underachieving. I recognize it now as an ego-centric goal—assuming I could somehow save humanity and all that. But I was young, and my world was big, and I was still under the impression people wanted to change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;I’m sitting in the dingy light of an all-night taqueria on Independece Avenue, writing my story onto the empty side of a stack of paper placemats. I bought them, along with a burrito and a cerveca, forty minutes ago from a confused slip of a girl—Honduran, I’d guess, &lt;i&gt;No Anglais&lt;/i&gt;—for twenty bucks, keep the change. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;The place still smells of cigarette smoke, even though smoking is no longer allowed in Kansas City restaurants. To me, it is the scent of desperation. Mine, not theirs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;The words have suddenly stopped flowing, and it occurs to me that I’m even failing at my own confession. I want to put my pen down, to rip up the things I’ve already written, to come up with some answers instead of all these questions. But if I stop now, will I ever be able to begin again?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;A slow Spanish love song begins crooning over the stereo. I glance up at the jukebox, where a woman leans provocatively against the side. She shifts her hip against the machine and lets one thin strap slide a bit down a round shoulder that, by any appropriate measure, should have more covering it. Her eyes catch me looking, and she inclines her head. Void of make-up except for penciled-in eyebrows and darkened lips, she is of indeterminate age and race.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;I look down at the table in front of me, focusing on the grip my hand makes on the pen. I refuse to let it go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;I feel, more than see, the woman cross the room. It’s something in the way my chest tightens—not with desire, but disgust, apprehension, the very sort of self-righteous disdain that made Isabelle leave me in the first place.  In my peripheral vision I catch the woman sliding into the booth opposite mine, crossing a bare leg, bouncing a high-heeled foot. I turn my head the slightest bit and watch her foot, browned and misshapen with too much time walking in shoes that don’t fit. The foot stills, and I glance up to find her watching me, curiosity and probably greed lighting her eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;“You just gonna watch all night?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;I look away, as if somehow a scant four feet away, I hadn’t heard, and take a long, tasteless drag of the now-warm Mexican beer. I shouldn’t have come. I scrape up the makeshift papers and stand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;The woman slides forward a little as if she plans on joining me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;“No,” I say, though I wish I could say more, could say what Isabelle would say. Have I learned nothing in all this time?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;The EXIT sign glows red, the same way it did thirteen years ago when Isabelle Tuesday walked out that same, scarred door into a world that didn’t deserve her. The night she said she couldn’t marry me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;This night feels darker though, like it’s shaded by the weight of a world I can’t see. Because finally, I am beginning to understand why she went.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-4393149264902357618?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/4393149264902357618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/11/bit-of-story.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/4393149264902357618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/4393149264902357618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/11/bit-of-story.html' title='A Bit of Story'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-6524751004300881379</id><published>2009-11-17T20:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T20:37:13.826-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>Wanna play?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SwN57y8wVKI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/RWw-qx88bro/s1600/IMG_1259.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SwN57y8wVKI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/RWw-qx88bro/s400/IMG_1259.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405298045970568354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no prizes, this is just for glory.&lt;div&gt;I'll list some lyrics, you name the sang (or artist). These are faves of mine from random corners of my iTunes, (i.e. what I was listening to today.) I love song lyrics because you only get a few words to paint a picture or evoke an emotion. A couple are these are kind of obscure, but if you know me or have ever received a mix CD from me, then this shouldn't be too hard. Feel free to post your own lyrics in the comments. I promise not to google them for the answers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. And I can't call it easy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This thing no one will survive,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Though we are all breathing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are few of us alive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And we will stand here perishing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In hopeless circumstance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the wisdom of the world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will tell us not to take the chance...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to come too... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that possibly,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I'm falling for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I love anonymity and I love being noticed &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just the same as anybody else&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. santa is here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sleigh bells are ringing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;twenty-one elves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;they are singing,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k-mart is closed,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so is the bakery,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;everyone's at home &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;watching tv&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. And the moon is a sliver of silver &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like a shaving that fell on the floor of a Carpenter's shop&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I hope we sit together when Jesus serves the wine &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I can look into your eyes when I taste it the first time &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I know there's no secrets when you're sitting at that table &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I believe we'll smile real knowingly when we read the label&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And a sad one to close...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. I drink good coffee every morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Comes from a place that's far away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And when I'm done I feel like talking&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Without you here there is less to say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a favorite lyric? Post it, post it! I wanna play too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-6524751004300881379?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/6524751004300881379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/11/wanna-play.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/6524751004300881379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/6524751004300881379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/11/wanna-play.html' title='Wanna play?'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SwN57y8wVKI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/RWw-qx88bro/s72-c/IMG_1259.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-5287234556241135611</id><published>2009-11-09T05:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T10:39:41.658-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good books'/><title type='text'>The Bartered Bride</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;You may know that back in my Calvary days, I majored in Secondary Education. And since I couldn't decide on a subject, I picked my own: History with a "writing emphasis." My friend, Erica Vetsch (also a Calvary alum) is a girl after my own heart. She's the kind of girl who sees stories in tombstones and and obscure historical trivia. :) Her debut novel, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The Bartered Bride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;, has just been released, and I'm honored to host her on my blog today! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Svhha64tuyI/AAAAAAAAAMI/TGEgokBHN2k/s400/n732361141_6029.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402174868142537506" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 322px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Here's a little about her book:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Jonathan Kennebrae is furious when his grandfather informs him that his future has been decided. He will marry Melissa Brooke or lose his inheritance. Jonathan has invested years of his life in Kennebrae Shipping, but heaven help him if Grandfather decides to take it all away for this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Melissa too is devastated when her parents make their announcement. As little more than a bargaining chip in her father's business maneuvers, she feels her secure world slipping away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Engaged to marry a man she has never met--someone "considerably older" than herself? What have her parents done?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Can Jonathan and Melissa find a way out of this loveless marriage, or must they find a way forward together?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I thoroughly enjoyed Erica's characters (and I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loved&lt;/span&gt; her ending, well done, Erica!), so I asked her if I could interview one for today's post. :) She agreed, so please let me introduce you to the heroine of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The Bartered Bride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;, Melissa Brooke:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;1. Tell us a little about yourself and how you came to be the bargaining chip in the middle of a business proposition! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I am the only child of Lawrence and Almina Brooke. My father controls much of the grain storage capacity of Duluth Harbor and many miles of railroad in the upper midwest. He's quite influential in both the city and the region. My mother is a patron of many charities and belongs to many of the social clubs of the city. As their daughter, there are certain expectations regarding my future. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Although it is not uncommon in these times for parents to play a dominant role in choosing their daughter's suitors, particularly when you are of the socio-economic status of my parents, I had hoped to at least be consulted, perhaps presented with a list of acceptable callers, and then allowed to get to know them. From that group of acceptable young men, I had hoped to fall in love, to find someone well suited to me. And I had hoped to delay this process of choosing a husband until I felt the time was right, until I'd accomplished a few of my goals. When my parents bypassed me altogether in the equation, I felt betrayed. I wondered if God was aware of my situation, and just how marrying a stranger could possibly fit in with His promise to have a plan and a purpose for my life.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt; 2. Your parents arranged your engagement to Jonathan Kennebrae. What was your first impression of him? What did you notice about him as you grew to know him? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);  font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My first impressions of Jonathan were a bit muddled, as there was a bit of a mix-up about who he was. As I got to know him, I realized how organized and focused he is, how much he cares about his family and the family business, and how, under that all-business front he puts up at times beats a tender heart that feels deeply and loves very much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 3. I know you are too modest to boast, but I hear you are a lovely musician. What do you play, and what kind of music do you prefer? Do you have any other secret talents we should know about?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);  font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Thank you. I love to escape into the beauty of music. I play classical music, though I much prefer the music of the Early Romantic period over the Baroque styles. Beethovan and Schubert, Chopin and Schumann. I've never really been a fan of Bach. His music is so heavy and dark. It evokes sadness and solemnity when I prefer lighter, more hopeful music. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Secret talent? Through my work with immigrant women, I've become adept at pounding out rollicking Scandinavian songs, though my mother would be mortified to hear such tunes rolling out of our Steinway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 4. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);  font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I wish I would think to pray first instead of worrying. I wish my first instinct was to run to the Lord instead of waiting until my back is to the wall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;And I'd like to be a better linguist. I speak English and French, and a very poor conglomeration of Scandinavian languages. Of Russian and German I know nothing, and more and more immigrants are coming to America from those countries.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;5. What are you most afraid of? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);  font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I have an almost paralyzing fear of mice. Oh, and heights. I get dizzy on a step ladder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; 6. You and Jonathan have been through so much together. What have these experiences taught you about yourself and about God? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);  font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Our experiences have taught us that God is sovereign even when, or especially when, our plans are falling apart. We've also learned quite a bit about being open with one another and trusting each other's motives, no matter what.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. If you were a color, which would you be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);  font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Pink. Such a soft and pretty color, soothing, cheerful. Jonathan often sends me pink roses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);  font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Thanks, Melissa! ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;You can learn more about Erica and her book on her blog-- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onthewritepath.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;www.onthewritepath.blogspot.com.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;You can purchase The Bartered Bride &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.christianbook.com/bartered-bride-erica-vetsch/9781602605893/pd/605893"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;here,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; or leave a comment for your chance to win an autographed copy from Erica! (be sure you leave you email addy so I can contact you if you win!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-5287234556241135611?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/5287234556241135611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/11/bartered-bride.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5287234556241135611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5287234556241135611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/11/bartered-bride.html' title='The Bartered Bride'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Svhha64tuyI/AAAAAAAAAMI/TGEgokBHN2k/s72-c/n732361141_6029.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-6539831457205887700</id><published>2009-10-31T10:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T11:35:41.354-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>2 for 1!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've promised you one recipe and you're getting two! :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SuyB-aEzQwI/AAAAAAAAALo/8Bq1JIjZrdw/s1600-h/IMG_1256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SuyB-aEzQwI/AAAAAAAAALo/8Bq1JIjZrdw/s400/IMG_1256.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398832962461713154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SuyB-GO0C6I/AAAAAAAAALg/KFHsIEWSfSI/s1600-h/IMG_1249.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first one is more of a... recovery method, if you will. If at any point you find yourself throwing a party for seven (awesome) giggly second-grade girls, you will need this. When the front door closes after the last goodbye and the cupcake crumbs are swept and the pizza boxes thrown out, here's what you do:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Make up something for your children to do that will give you ten uninterrupted minutes in the kitchen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Get out a bowl, and double-check to make sure you are truly alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SuyC9eR6QXI/AAAAAAAAAL4/Hg7cJZ-ee-c/s400/IMG_1249.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398834045922197874" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Enjoy the quiet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Break a handful of pecans into the bowl. Follow with marshmallows.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Spoon a giant glob of leftover chocolate frosting on top.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Roll the glob around until it looks like a mushy, delicious porcupine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Sink to the floor of the kitchen and eat. Do not share.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. Repeat as necessary or until the kids find you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Recipe number two is a little more sophisticated (and also less clandestine). Enjoy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GREAT PUMPKIN! COOKIES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Preheat oven to 350 degrees.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Combine:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SuyB-kdNyQI/AAAAAAAAALw/CMUIvtO0uNI/s400/IMG_1265.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398832965248469250" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 c. flour&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 1/3 c. quick or old-fashioned oats&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 tsp. baking soda&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 tsp. cinnamon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/2 tsp. salt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In a separate bowl, beat until creamy:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 c. butter or margarine, softened&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 c. sugar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 c. packed brown sugar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beat in:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 c. canned pumpkin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 egg&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 tsp. vanilla&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gradually beat in flour mixture.  Stir in:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3/4 c. chopped nuts (pecans!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 c. chocolate chips (okay, so the original calls for 3/4 c. raisins instead, but this is so much better...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Drop dough by 1/8 - 1/4 c. spoonfuls onto a greased or lined baking sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for 12-15 minutes or until cookies are firm and lightly browned. Let stand for 2 minutes before removing to wire racks to cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Decorate with your favorite icing. (I kinda like the cookie icing sold in tubes that dries hard and smooth. Great for transporting. If you're sharing, that is.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-6539831457205887700?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/6539831457205887700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/10/2-for-1.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/6539831457205887700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/6539831457205887700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/10/2-for-1.html' title='2 for 1!'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SuyB-aEzQwI/AAAAAAAAALo/8Bq1JIjZrdw/s72-c/IMG_1256.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-1499773351556864918</id><published>2009-10-26T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T07:11:55.307-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>Random Things I Like Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SuWtreyWlRI/AAAAAAAAAKo/tOfrCP1eRpc/s1600-h/IMG_1053.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Owen's room! We're almost finished! It was supposed to be a Christmas present, but too many rainy days in a row for my painter/husband means we got a jump start. Here's how things unfolded: Aaron sat me down in a dark corner of the basement and told me to find a way to use leftover paint. :) For some reason I like being forced to fit random things together. There is something magical about taking leftover pieces and making something awesome out of them. I even got to wear my carpenter hat for a while, as we used some chair-rail we accidently (don't ask) purchased at Habitat to make glossy, graphic black lines on the wall. It's kinda nice being married to the best painter ever. Yes, I realize this is blatant self-congratulation, but it looks AWESOME!!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SuWtreyWlRI/AAAAAAAAAKo/tOfrCP1eRpc/s320/IMG_1053.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396910690983646482" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- This baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- &lt;a href="http://www.tvguide.com/tvshows/pushing-daisies/287954"&gt;Pushing Daisies&lt;/a&gt;. I'm a little behind; you all probably already know this show is fantastic. But I just got season 1 at the library and I am in love. Okay, so I've only watched the first two episodes, but my hopes are high. I mean, what a great story idea. Wish I'd thought of it. Seriously, I love everything about this show: the setting, the casting, the narration, the characters, the plot. Why was this show cancelled??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I really like it that I can look totally gross, and my husband still likes me. Hurray for true love!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Just-Between-You-Me-Finding/dp/1595548513/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1256565527&amp;amp;sr=8-2"&gt;Just Between You and Me&lt;/a&gt;, by Jenny B. Jones. Sooo funny! And, wow, does Jenny know how to write tension! I think I may have verbally defended the main character a few times. I got a little involved... And the "aha" moment was just right. This is a keeper. Read it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pumpkin! I can't stop thinking about all the tasty pumkin-y things I would like to put in my mouth right now. And because I love you, I'm going to post the best pumpkin cookie recipe ever. (Tomorrow, because I have to go now.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-1499773351556864918?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/1499773351556864918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/10/random-things-i-like-today.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/1499773351556864918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/1499773351556864918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/10/random-things-i-like-today.html' title='Random Things I Like Today'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SuWtreyWlRI/AAAAAAAAAKo/tOfrCP1eRpc/s72-c/IMG_1053.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-5421851036239743317</id><published>2009-10-21T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T13:18:34.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(41, 48, 59); font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;These words break my heart, and when I read them all I can think is, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;please God, don't let this be me&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;What shall I do with you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 6px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;O Ephraim?&lt;br /&gt;   What shall I do with you, O Judah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Your love is like a morning cloud,&lt;br /&gt;   like the dew that goes early away...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(Hosea 6 :4)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Even now as I write them here, they prick at my insides, they peel back a veneer of devotion to reveal the weak, fragile sort of love hidden beneath. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Like a morning cloud, like dew that goes early away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/St8r-fex2JI/AAAAAAAAAKc/1j6XITpqRFA/s320/DewDrop.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395079231215622290" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 205px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The verse before this says what &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;His&lt;/span&gt; love is like:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;Let us &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;; let us press on to know the LORD;&lt;br /&gt;   his going out is sure as the dawn;&lt;br /&gt;he will come to us as the showers,&lt;br /&gt;   as the spring rains that water the earth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(Hosea 6:3)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;And here:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;Sow for yourselves righteousness;&lt;br /&gt;   reap &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;steadfast love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;;&lt;br /&gt;   break up your fallow ground,&lt;br /&gt;for it is the time to seek the LORD,&lt;br /&gt;   that he may come and rain righteousness upon you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(Hosea 10:12)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;It's raining here today, and all I can think about is that it looks like love coming down. Faithfulness in the face of unbelief. Have I given him feeble love, like weak morning light that can't even work up the strength to make it's way through the clouds to heat the earth. Diluted, spent. Have I given my faithfulness to other things when it belongs only to Him?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He asks for one thing, and it sets free in me a soul-deep longing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I desire &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;steadfast love&lt;/span&gt; and not sacrifice,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;   the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;knowledge of God&lt;/span&gt; rather than burnt offerings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(41, 48, 59); font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(Hosea 6:6)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I want it to rain, and I want to love Him because He alone is my treasure. God, break up my fallow ground, give me steadfast love for You.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-5421851036239743317?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/5421851036239743317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/10/early-away_21.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5421851036239743317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5421851036239743317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/10/early-away_21.html' title='Early Away'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/St8r-fex2JI/AAAAAAAAAKc/1j6XITpqRFA/s72-c/DewDrop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-2974613367283615211</id><published>2009-10-12T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T09:04:01.820-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>All Species Welcome!</title><content type='html'>Welcome to our Mythological Creatures Party!&lt;div&gt;Our Guest of Honor is "Caroline the Garden Gnome":&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNM6Ku8dsI/AAAAAAAAAJM/uJNbk82kXe0/s320/IMG_1108.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391737741089994434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNNMJwUy6I/AAAAAAAAAJU/G-NPPWJpQCc/s320/IMG_1116.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391738050064993186" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;Also in attendance were King Triton (Aaron) and a lovely Mermaid (Ali):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNNgzgzqcI/AAAAAAAAAJc/cXaZsLK9sAU/s320/IMG_1107.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391738404871580098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;Several characters from classic literature made brief appearances, such as an elf from the Lord of the Rings...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNNhezAOSI/AAAAAAAAAJk/XBWoe15LIC0/s1600-h/IMG_1112.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNNhezAOSI/AAAAAAAAAJk/XBWoe15LIC0/s320/IMG_1112.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391738416490625314" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNNMJwUy6I/AAAAAAAAAJU/G-NPPWJpQCc/s1600-h/IMG_1116.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;Along with Mr. Tumnus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNMv5_8-WI/AAAAAAAAAJE/-QPci34yC7E/s1600-h/IMG_1111.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNMv5_8-WI/AAAAAAAAAJE/-QPci34yC7E/s320/IMG_1111.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391737564799236450" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I caught this adorable Leprachaun sneaking crackers, but alas, she had no pot of gold for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNODFZWFGI/AAAAAAAAAJs/mbjDI-5FFe8/s320/IMG_1125.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391738993787671650" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNODm2i-mI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/ovbyPtaRp5M/s320/IMG_1128.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391739002768521826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;Party Menu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;Green Goddess Dressing and Veggies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;Crackers and a Hairy Eyeball (Cheeseball)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;Meatballs (because they look like LOTR food to me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;Fresh Baked Bread Wreath (no pic, they ate it too fast)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;Toadstool and Baby Toadstool Cakes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;Happy Birthday, Baby!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNOoAQZZOI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/UuEJe5ubxEg/s1600-h/IMG_1136.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNOoAQZZOI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/UuEJe5ubxEg/s320/IMG_1136.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391739628063122658" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Oh, yeah. Just go for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNOok4cKdI/AAAAAAAAAKE/FsQhAGSifnU/s320/IMG_1147.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391739637894752722" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Toadstool Cake made everybody happy. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNOpLpd2hI/AAAAAAAAAKM/C1LjwAh3Edg/s320/IMG_1149.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391739648300931602" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;The party was supposed to conclude with a rousing game of "Poke the Cyclops in the Eye!" but several of the mythological creatures were distracted by the presents. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNOpsLpFiI/AAAAAAAAAKU/o1jqX1uNFE4/s1600-h/IMG_1181.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNOpsLpFiI/AAAAAAAAAKU/o1jqX1uNFE4/s320/IMG_1181.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391739657034208802" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lots more pictures will be coming to Facebook soon, including a pic of the very dashing Cyclops, who managed to sneak out of all my pictures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-2974613367283615211?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/2974613367283615211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/10/all-species-welcome.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/2974613367283615211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/2974613367283615211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/10/all-species-welcome.html' title='All Species Welcome!'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/StNM6Ku8dsI/AAAAAAAAAJM/uJNbk82kXe0/s72-c/IMG_1108.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-9015922260232218730</id><published>2009-09-29T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T09:59:44.822-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>I'm back, and I need help</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sstj1hULzXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/CtVSFoje1Tg/s1600-h/IMG_1053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sstj1hULzXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/CtVSFoje1Tg/s320/IMG_1053.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389511150206176626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had some awesome story to tell you about why I haven't blogged in two weeks. Like, I won a radio call-in contest and was on a cruise in the Caribbean. Or I was kidnapped and forced to watch all six seasons of Lost before they let me come home.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But no, it was a self-imposed blogging/writing/reading fast. Here's how I spent my time instead: carpentry work (I promised my husband we'd do it when we got back from conference); cleaning, sorting and organizing for our upcoming party weekend (more on that later); dispensing medicine for sick kids (Olivia got the flu); and okay, I'll admit, I wasted a few hours watching shows on &lt;a href="http://www.hulu.com/"&gt;Hulu&lt;/a&gt;, but we were really tired from all our remodeling, so I think we deserved it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're working to get stuff done on our house because of a few "flexible" deadlines from the bank. Plus, we're having tons of family in town to celebrate Caroline and Olivia's birthdays, and we want to impress them.  :) It shouldn't be hard--they've seen this place without walls. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, anyway, the party. It's going to be &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;awesome&lt;/span&gt;, just ask my kids. They thought up the theme, which is mythological creatures. Yes, you read that right. My baby is turning one year old and we're going to dress her as a garden gnome. hehe Owen is going to be a cyclops. Olivia's a Leprachaun. I think Aaron is going to be Zeus? But here's where you come in, dear friends. I have no idea what I should be. Somebody suggested a flower fairy, but how boring is that? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;They&lt;/span&gt; all get to be really cool things. (Insert whining.) Olivia suggested a Werewolf, but I don't think I could get the facial hair right on such short notice. Plus, aren't they bad guys? I don't want to be a villain at my daughter's first birthday party (unless it's a really, really ultra-cool villain.) So guys, what do you think I should be? Tell me quick, the party's in four days and I still have to make the Toadstool cake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-9015922260232218730?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/9015922260232218730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/im-back-and-i-need-help.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/9015922260232218730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/9015922260232218730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/im-back-and-i-need-help.html' title='I&apos;m back, and I need help'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sstj1hULzXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/CtVSFoje1Tg/s72-c/IMG_1053.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-7065195000954339422</id><published>2009-09-23T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T08:01:16.995-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>CUPCAKES AND ADDICTIVE SUBSTANCES (conference, pt2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Pre-conference bonus: The Big Fat Cupcake. The question of the ages: can you buy happiness? Maybe not, but you can certainly eat it.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrrmZqbiUBI/AAAAAAAAAH8/m_UgTdOfv_g/s1600-h/IMG_1011.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrrmZqbiUBI/AAAAAAAAAH8/m_UgTdOfv_g/s320/IMG_1011.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384869633035751442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrrmZHBLyeI/AAAAAAAAAH0/yEukWcenJQQ/s1600-h/10530_141556341700_513656700_3073216_6263378_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrrmZHBLyeI/AAAAAAAAAH0/yEukWcenJQQ/s320/10530_141556341700_513656700_3073216_6263378_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384869623529982434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Conference Highlights:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many to choose from! But here goes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Jenness! (can a person be a highlight?) She had been asked to give the devotional on Saturday morning and she was so nervous. But it was amazing. She was amazing. God is amazing! (Seriously. She made me cry.) Plus, she curled my hair (and Betsy's) for the banquet. And she was willing to try carrying me down the hall. (At least I think that's what we were doing in this pic. It was the last day and we were really tired. I promise, it really was just coffee in the cup.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrrpG6dC2qI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LsGjd7aZ40c/s320/10530_141556371700_513656700_3073220_8333107_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384872609454414498" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrrpHk5BtcI/AAAAAAAAAIM/iYfCJuEvY6M/s1600-h/10530_141570671700_513656700_3073425_2354311_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrrpHk5BtcI/AAAAAAAAAIM/iYfCJuEvY6M/s320/10530_141570671700_513656700_3073425_2354311_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384872620846069186" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Dinner with my agent and his other clients. He has so much experience in Christian publishing, and such an obvious passion for the gospel that it is completely humbling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-New friends: shout out to Liz and Andrew. Liz, I'm reading your book now! :) Andrew, the moment when you pitched your book to us at the table and said, "No really, it is a Christian book!" will live as one of the funniest conference moments ever. I expect to be reading your book before long. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Getting fired up to go home and write with some fabulous classes. Susan May Warren and Rachel Hauck are fantastic. Best advice of the week: Try harder. Don't settle for "decent". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SruE7cCDhjI/AAAAAAAAAIU/OeRkWsU8kgo/s1600-h/IMG_1039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SruE7cCDhjI/AAAAAAAAAIU/OeRkWsU8kgo/s320/IMG_1039.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385043936123520562" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Lunch with all my friends and a really cool editor. You all know who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Commiserating, brainstorming, praying, laughing. I got spoiled spending so much time with one of my best friends. I miss you already, Betsy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SruGA-gC9JI/AAAAAAAAAIc/MsafUiJULpM/s320/10530_141570641700_513656700_3073420_5741744_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385045130787091602" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Going home: Isn't it funny how the drive home always seems shorter?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was exhausted, delirious, and a bit overloaded so that always helps. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Need proof? I tried to "reduce redeye" in this picture, but then you could tell that my eyes were completely bloodshot. Apparently, I do need sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SruHkILEwXI/AAAAAAAAAIk/fQrEQE7V9cg/s320/10530_141570681700_513656700_3073426_1267849_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385046834190532978" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The highlight of the trip home would be obvious to anyone who is a parent: picking up my kids. This was the first time Caroline had stayed away from us at night and it was for f&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ive days&lt;/span&gt;. She did better than I did. But the look on her face when she saw me... it wasn't the big smile I was hoping for. It was better than that. She just stared at me, wide-eyed with the focused intensity she gets when she's chugging a bottle. She couldn't stop looking at me and I couldn't stop looking at her. Then she smiled, slowly and with her whole body.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's the kind of memory you keep forever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SruHkfhlc6I/AAAAAAAAAIs/A-tTEWU7GDg/s320/IMG_1050.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385046840458965922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-7065195000954339422?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/7065195000954339422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/cupcakes-and-addictive-substances.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/7065195000954339422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/7065195000954339422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/cupcakes-and-addictive-substances.html' title='CUPCAKES AND ADDICTIVE SUBSTANCES (conference, pt2)'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrrmZqbiUBI/AAAAAAAAAH8/m_UgTdOfv_g/s72-c/IMG_1011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-5772855325026236479</id><published>2009-09-21T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T12:06:31.243-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>ROAD TRIP (conference, pt 1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrfJxd6tkHI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6XnrSj--S80/s1600-h/IMG_0996.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tune your mental soundtrack to the following:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Carry On Wayward Son- &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kansas&lt;/span&gt; (must listen to Kansas when driving through it)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How Bizarre- &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;OMC&lt;/span&gt; (Because... is there really an acceptable reason?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time On Your Side- &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Emily Jane White&lt;/span&gt; (Because it talks about truckers and wasted lives and frank sinatra, and because it's beautiful and one of my characters heard it on the radio the other day and it made her feel lonely)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Selected &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Waterdeep &lt;/span&gt;(like "Everybody's Guilty", the one Lori sings instead of Don on the live cd.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Get your snacks:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SreemzBGLgI/AAAAAAAAAG8/px1XLeZTk5U/s1600-h/IMG_0967.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SreemzBGLgI/AAAAAAAAAG8/px1XLeZTk5U/s320/IMG_0967.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383946268911742466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Side Note: I adore the Flint Hills of Kansas. At first all you see is a rolling blue-green horizon. Look closer. The prairie grasses are purple and golden and green and orange and... you get the idea. Hopefully, knowing my love for Kansas will offset the impact of the disparaging remarks I am about to make about &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Western&lt;/span&gt; Kansas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is flat. I took no pictures. I didn't need to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Although I should have captured the signs advertising the giant 8,000 pound prairie dog and the "live" 5-legged steer. I missed the boat on that one.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were so exhausted from having nothing to look at (and, I'll admit, from singing really loudly to Wayward Son) that we had to detour in Hays, KS to find a restaurant we'd read about in a magazine. I had some kind of green bean dumpling soup that I would highly recommend, should you ever find yourself detouring in Hays, KS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrehqPlwdbI/AAAAAAAAAHE/yxovFHZfB_Y/s320/IMG_0973.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383949626656191922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And, can I just ask, what is the deal with Limon, Colorado? We started seeing signs for it over 200 miles out, and we'd drive and drive and take stupid pictures of our snack food and the signs would tell us we'd only gotten like 20 miles closer to it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We arrived in Denver after 11 grueling hours (okay, so we did stop in Goodland--accidentally--to see the Giant VanGogh. I must say, I was a bit disappointed. If it were a Giant VanGogh painted by blind chimpanzees, now we're talking.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sre-j2ZrlqI/AAAAAAAAAHM/c1apFZkLYA0/s320/IMG_0976.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383981402652645026" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So, Annie and Pete met us halfway up a mountain and drove us to Zoka's, a hidden gem with food so good I didn't even think to take a picture. Duck with berry reduction, venison tenderloin with a maple glaze, Wild game grilled sausage. And, yes, that was all for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Pete and Annie's front porch is THE place to be first thing in the morning. Make sure you have a cup of coffee steaming into your face when you sit on their pine porch swing under your blanket in the chill mountain air.  You'll watch the colors heat the morning, and you might have a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;moment&lt;/span&gt;. You know what I'm talking about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrfCZP0tWXI/AAAAAAAAAHU/-bPPTB9eWCE/s320/IMG_0998.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383985618544843122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Thank you, Pete and Annie, for making me jealous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And for making me think about how big God is. About how he made all &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;, and yet he set his affection on &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrfCzaXInuI/AAAAAAAAAHk/2PdRH5a5hKY/s320/IMG_1004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383986068050190050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My verse for the conference--the one I read and couldn't stop thinking about-- was from Psalm 17. The chapter talks about evil men, about begging God for deliverance. I was trying to figure out how this would apply to my life, since I am not currently being chased by evil men, when I caught David's description of the wicked: "...men of the world, whose portion is in this life. You fill their womb with treasure, they are satisfied with children." (v.14) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It's easy to go to a writing conference with "this life" solidly in view. But is that all that I have in view? Am I content to be satisfied with my &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;children--&lt;/span&gt; my books, my temporary future? I notice that God is the one giving the treasure, giving the children, and he doesn't give evil gifts. So the pitfall isn't with what I have, it's with what I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"As for me I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness." (v.15)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And when I wake up in the morning to this kind of glory, and I know that it is only a shadow, a dim reflection of the beauty of its Creator, my heart trembles. I was made to experience that kind of beauty? To wake up with &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; likeness someday? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SrfCy9fkS5I/AAAAAAAAAHc/ds6owYs0HfE/s320/IMG_1000.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383986060300929938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TO BE CONTINUED...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;CUPCAKES and ADDICTIVE SUBSTANCES (conference, pt 2)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-5772855325026236479?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/5772855325026236479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/road-trip-conference-pt-1.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5772855325026236479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5772855325026236479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/road-trip-conference-pt-1.html' title='ROAD TRIP (conference, pt 1)'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SreemzBGLgI/AAAAAAAAAG8/px1XLeZTk5U/s72-c/IMG_0967.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-6848040730775665726</id><published>2009-09-14T05:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T07:05:01.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>countdown</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sq5L-2II13I/AAAAAAAAAGw/d7FlVDgxcHM/s1600-h/IMG_0948.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sq5L-2II13I/AAAAAAAAAGw/d7FlVDgxcHM/s320/IMG_0948.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381322147807942514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(Me, trying to take a last minute author pic in the backyard... with help.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last week in three parts of speech: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;frenetic: (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;adj.&lt;/span&gt;) characterized by feverish activity, confusion, and hurry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;success: (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;n.&lt;/span&gt;) the achievement of something planned or attempted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anticipate: (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;v.&lt;/span&gt;) 1. to imagine or consider something before it happens and make any necessary preparations and changes. 2. to feel excited, hopeful or eager about something that is going to happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next week in three parts of speech:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;insomnia: (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;n.&lt;/span&gt;) inability to fall asleep or to remain asleep long enough to feel rested.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;overwhelming: (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;adj.&lt;/span&gt;) having such a great affect as to be emotionally overpowering.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;delight: (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;v.&lt;/span&gt;) to gain great enjoyment or pleasure from something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two days of crazy prep to go, and then we're off! The ACFW conference is here all of the sudden, ready or not! Please pray that I am able to finish up a few writing objectives before we head off. This past week has been really successful (as noted above). :) I was able to get several more chapters done as well as a one sheet- which is what you use to pitch your project to editors. Think the back cover of a book. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pray for me as I talk to people (editors, my agent, etc.) about the project. Really, I'm just getting feedback at this point because the book isn't completed. But I feel strongly that this is a book God is asking me to write. The past year has been spent away from writing with a CONSTANT struggle between the balance of writing ministry and ministry to my family and neighborhood. Whenever I wrote, I felt guilty that I was not working elsewhere, and whenever I didn't write, I felt like I was ignoring open doors. But mostly, I was just unconvinced that writing was the correct use of my time. The things I was writing about seemed unimportant to me and of little spiritual value, thus the guilt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With this book project (I'll tell you more about it later), that guilt has disappeared. Although I often feel insufficient for writing on this subject, I have no doubt that I'm supposed to do it. What God does with the finished product is for Him to decide. I just know this is something I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; to write.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"The LORD is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; my chosen portion and my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; cup;&lt;br /&gt;   you hold my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;You make known to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; the path of life;&lt;br /&gt;   in your presence there is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; fullness of joy;&lt;br /&gt;   at your right hand are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; pleasures forevermore."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;-Psalm 16: 5, 11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-6848040730775665726?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/6848040730775665726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/countdown.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/6848040730775665726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/6848040730775665726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/countdown.html' title='countdown'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sq5L-2II13I/AAAAAAAAAGw/d7FlVDgxcHM/s72-c/IMG_0948.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-2476679443685852538</id><published>2009-09-08T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T21:08:56.337-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>What I Needed To Hear Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PTc_FoELt8s&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PTc_FoELt8s&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-2476679443685852538?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/2476679443685852538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-i-needed-to-hear-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/2476679443685852538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/2476679443685852538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-i-needed-to-hear-today.html' title='What I Needed To Hear Today'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-5559045761882870157</id><published>2009-09-07T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T18:09:42.497-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>Sing and Play</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Happy Labor Day, everyone! We're busily working on house deadlines/writing deadlines (self-imposed!)/ school deadlines. Nothing like a little hard Labor to get things done.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And for those of you who like to whistle while you work: my &lt;a href="http://www.needtobreathe.net/"&gt;new favorite.&lt;/a&gt; I actually DROVE to a store and bought it.  A real store. Not Amazon. (I know, right?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SqWrwZSB8bI/AAAAAAAAAGo/DhkGLFu0jnA/s1600-h/needtobreathe-the-outsiders.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SqWrwZSB8bI/AAAAAAAAAGo/DhkGLFu0jnA/s320/needtobreathe-the-outsiders.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378894177872507314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Listen free &lt;a href="http://www.rhapsody.com/needtobreathe"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My favorites: The Outsiders, Stones Under Rushing Water, Garden, Something Beautiful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O &amp;amp; O's favorite: Girl Named Tennesee (A dance party was held on the third floor in this song's honor. Owen's got some moves.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-5559045761882870157?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/5559045761882870157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-labor-day-everyone-were-busily.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5559045761882870157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5559045761882870157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-labor-day-everyone-were-busily.html' title='Sing and Play'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SqWrwZSB8bI/AAAAAAAAAGo/DhkGLFu0jnA/s72-c/needtobreathe-the-outsiders.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-806601482806906787</id><published>2009-09-03T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T11:55:10.942-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>What Do I Know of Holy?</title><content type='html'>I'm writing a story right now that deals with some pretty deep things. &lt;a href="http://www.last.fm/music/Addison+Road/_/What+Do+I+Know+of+Holy"&gt;This song&lt;/a&gt; expresses exactly how I feel:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SqAQ8NEr7dI/AAAAAAAAAGg/ar7FTXNyFZE/s1600-h/IMG_0862.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SqAQ8NEr7dI/AAAAAAAAAGg/ar7FTXNyFZE/s320/IMG_0862.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377316581567884754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I made You promises a thousand times&lt;br /&gt;I tried to hear from Heaven&lt;br /&gt;But I talked the whole time&lt;br /&gt;I think I made You too small&lt;br /&gt;I never feared You at all No&lt;br /&gt;If You touched my face would I know You?&lt;br /&gt;Looked into my eyes could I behold You?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of You&lt;br /&gt;Who spoke me into motion?&lt;br /&gt;Where have I even stood&lt;br /&gt;But the shore along Your ocean?&lt;br /&gt;Are You fire? Are You fury?&lt;br /&gt;Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?&lt;br /&gt;What do I know? What do I know of Holy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I thought that I had figured You out&lt;br /&gt;I knew all the stories and I learned to talk about&lt;br /&gt;How You were mighty to save&lt;br /&gt;Those were only empty words on a page&lt;br /&gt;Then I caught a glimpse of who You might be&lt;br /&gt;The slightest hint of You brought me down to my knees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where have I even stood&lt;br /&gt;But the shore along Your ocean?&lt;br /&gt;Are You fire? Are You fury?&lt;br /&gt;Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?&lt;br /&gt;What do I know? What do I know of Holy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Addison Road, "What do I know of Holy?")&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-806601482806906787?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/806601482806906787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-do-i-know-of-holy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/806601482806906787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/806601482806906787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-do-i-know-of-holy.html' title='What Do I Know of Holy?'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SqAQ8NEr7dI/AAAAAAAAAGg/ar7FTXNyFZE/s72-c/IMG_0862.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-1654319603574892415</id><published>2009-09-02T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T07:24:05.757-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>FA (Fabri-holics Anonymous)</title><content type='html'>Do you find yourself staring for indeterminate lengths of time at a particularly awesome swath of fabric? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you considered selling something, say maybe your car, so that you can buy such fabric?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you ever considered even for a moment using fabric as wallpaper? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do certain fabrics make you to giggle out loud, causing those around you to suspect you are the slightest bit... how shall we say it... off center?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you answered yes to any of the above questions &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you are in the right place&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have just discovered my new favorite fabric designer, &lt;a href="http://www.artgalleryfabrics.com/"&gt;Art Gallery Fabrics by Patricia Bravo.&lt;/a&gt; (Check out her &lt;a href="http://artgalleryfabrics.typepad.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;.) And, yes, I bought some:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sp572QDXheI/AAAAAAAAAGY/H3wT1zMKCfs/s320/IMG_0894.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376871177079195106" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The green on the right is actually by Joel Dewberry. It's going in the dining room window seat. The other three are Art Gallery awesomeness: pink for the bathroom curtains and some accent pillows in the family room. Teal for the inside of the laptop bag &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=7562616"&gt;Alicia&lt;/a&gt; is making me. Gray/blue/green for the laundry room curtains.  Yes, I know. It's an illness. That's what the support group is for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-1654319603574892415?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/1654319603574892415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/fa-fabri-holics-anonymous.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/1654319603574892415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/1654319603574892415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/09/fa-fabri-holics-anonymous.html' title='FA (Fabri-holics Anonymous)'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sp572QDXheI/AAAAAAAAAGY/H3wT1zMKCfs/s72-c/IMG_0894.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-5710299990133840673</id><published>2009-08-31T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T07:33:49.288-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>I Heart Bread</title><content type='html'>I'm going to tell you about something right now, and you're not going to believe me. You're going to think I'm exaggerating, or at the very least you're going to think I'm too optimistic.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But It's true. Because I'm really excited about this, I'm going to risk sounding like a commercial. See how much I love you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SpvgG3NjS2I/AAAAAAAAAGI/XAMZMBP58UM/s320/ArtisanBreadinFiveMinutesaD_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376136988701444962" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been making and baking my own artisan bread every for the past three weeks in about five minutes a day. (Which if you know me, you know is amazing. I love to cook, but I haven't the patience or precision for true bread baking.) Here's the book that got me started, appropriately titled : &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Artisan-Bread-Five-Minutes-Revolutionizes/dp/0312362919/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1251729249&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. The basic principle is that (after throwing out everything you already know about bread-making) you mix yeast, water, salt, and flour into a basic wet dough. Let it rise once, then refrigerate the dough. The batch keeps in the refrigerator for up to two weeks and yields 4 1-lb. loaves. There is no proofing, no kneading, no punching down, etc. When you want bread, you pull off a hunk of dough and, following a few simple instructions that take about 30 seconds, you let let the dough rise for 40 minutes, and bake for 30. The crust is crackly perfection. Seriously, my husband thinks this is the best thing that ever happened to our kitchen. We are both going to be fat lards by Christmas, because this bread is AMAZING! It's so fast you can just whip up stuff for neighbors and friends and it really is nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The book has TONS of loaves you can make from around the world, as well as sweet desserts and pizza doughs. I haven't ventured that far yet because I wanted to master the Basic recipe and the wheat recipe first. I'll keep you posted, but really, even with just this basic recipe, I have gotten my money's worth. I'm not much for raving about things, but friends, if you like the scent of fresh baked bread at all, you must go out and buy this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.artisanbreadinfive.com/"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;'s their website if you need more convincing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-5710299990133840673?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/5710299990133840673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-heart-bread.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5710299990133840673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5710299990133840673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-heart-bread.html' title='I Heart Bread'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SpvgG3NjS2I/AAAAAAAAAGI/XAMZMBP58UM/s72-c/ArtisanBreadinFiveMinutesaD_3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-8371990358115610472</id><published>2009-08-27T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T06:26:21.827-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good books'/><title type='text'>Have you read...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SpaJPzpxliI/AAAAAAAAAGA/5lKL9L0n9p0/s1600-h/twhf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 197px; height: 298px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SpaJPzpxliI/AAAAAAAAAGA/5lKL9L0n9p0/s320/twhf.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374634109969733154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 19px; font-size:13px;"&gt;...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Till-We-Have-Faces-Retold/dp/0156904365"&gt;Till We Have Faces&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, by C.S. Lewis? I read it in high school, loved it and I'm getting ready to read it again.  I think it's my favorite C.S. Lewis novel, and that's saying a lot. Wanna read it with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 19px; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 19px; font-size:13px;"&gt; "It was when I was happiest that I longed most. It was on happy days when we were up there on the hills, the three of us, with the wind and the sunshine … where you couldn't see Glome or the palace. Do you remember? The colour and the smell, and looking at the Grey Mountain in the distance? And because it was so beautiful, it set me longing, always longing. Somewhere else there must be more of it. Everything seemed to be saying, Psyche come! But I couldn't (not yet) come and I didn't know where I was to come to. It almost hurt me. I felt like a bird in a cage when the other birds of its kind are flying home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 19px; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 19px;font-family:-webkit-sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-8371990358115610472?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/8371990358115610472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/have-you-read.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/8371990358115610472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/8371990358115610472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/have-you-read.html' title='Have you read...'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SpaJPzpxliI/AAAAAAAAAGA/5lKL9L0n9p0/s72-c/twhf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-5826402747251205928</id><published>2009-08-25T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T10:21:18.886-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>Summer Food</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Oh, summer, oh summer where have you gone?&lt;div&gt;I shall remember you always with yon fantastic salad:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fresh spinach leaves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 peach, ripe, sliced&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Toasted pecans&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poppyseed Dressing (Brianna's is awesome!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Simple ingredients, sure, but this is more than the sum of it's parts. This is summer in your mouth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SpQc3dOthhI/AAAAAAAAAF4/FUPOTyIltYM/s1600-h/111013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SpQc3dOthhI/AAAAAAAAAF4/FUPOTyIltYM/s320/111013.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373951994424559122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-5826402747251205928?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/5826402747251205928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/summer-food.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5826402747251205928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/5826402747251205928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/summer-food.html' title='Summer Food'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SpQc3dOthhI/AAAAAAAAAF4/FUPOTyIltYM/s72-c/111013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-2105913357761567915</id><published>2009-08-20T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T14:29:48.734-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>Dog Club</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt; is why we got a dog.                                                                                                                                             &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/So2o0qI48zI/AAAAAAAAAFw/S8NVS_sBaOQ/s1600-h/IMG_0847.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/So2o0qI48zI/AAAAAAAAAFw/S8NVS_sBaOQ/s320/IMG_0847.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372135553141109554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/So2o0AHT16I/AAAAAAAAAFo/--v4mDJwDek/s1600-h/IMG_0849.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/So2o0AHT16I/AAAAAAAAAFo/--v4mDJwDek/s320/IMG_0849.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372135541860194210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first week of school has been exciting and exhausting. But with no lack of creativity as you can see. I didn't include pictures of the "Baby Machine" or the dyed sugar experiment. I suspect this school year is going to be an adventure!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. Olivia wants you to let her know if  you want to be part of the dog club. There's room on the blanket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-2105913357761567915?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/2105913357761567915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/dog-club.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/2105913357761567915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/2105913357761567915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/dog-club.html' title='Dog Club'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/So2o0qI48zI/AAAAAAAAAFw/S8NVS_sBaOQ/s72-c/IMG_0847.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-4579652786411104055</id><published>2009-08-17T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T08:01:44.268-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>Bouquets of newly sharpened pencils</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My baby is a Kindergartener! Is it my imagination or does he look excited?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SolugmmGEFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/TA7kQOxy_6E/s1600-h/IMG_0841.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SolugmmGEFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/TA7kQOxy_6E/s1600-h/IMG_0841.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SolugmmGEFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/TA7kQOxy_6E/s320/IMG_0841.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370945537011224658" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SolugCRSGgI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gNsZ8F19I88/s1600-h/IMG_0840.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SolugCRSGgI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gNsZ8F19I88/s320/IMG_0840.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370945527260256770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SolufWuoLGI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Hu-ojdbXneg/s1600-h/IMG_0845.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SolufWuoLGI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Hu-ojdbXneg/s320/IMG_0845.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370945515572178018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SoluepTqwRI/AAAAAAAAAFI/-yFnKv1wINA/s1600-h/IMG_0839.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SoluepTqwRI/AAAAAAAAAFI/-yFnKv1wINA/s320/IMG_0839.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370945503379505426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 17px;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;-from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;You've Got Mail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-4579652786411104055?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/4579652786411104055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/bouquets-of-newly-sharpened-pencils.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/4579652786411104055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/4579652786411104055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/bouquets-of-newly-sharpened-pencils.html' title='Bouquets of newly sharpened pencils'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SolugmmGEFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/TA7kQOxy_6E/s72-c/IMG_0841.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-1582217232537684349</id><published>2009-08-15T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T16:54:02.389-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>Everyone's a critic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SodKX5AvAEI/AAAAAAAAAFA/3hhupP0IMjE/s1600-h/IMG_0236.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SodKX5AvAEI/AAAAAAAAAFA/3hhupP0IMjE/s320/IMG_0236.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370342854963953730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen has given out some interesting food descriptions lately. He usually eats everything in front of him with exuberant gusto: "Mom, this is the best &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt;!" (He gets that from his dad.) But it's when he &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; love his food that he waxes eloquent. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Exhibit A: In reference to an under-ripe banana. "This banana tastes like fabric." I took a bite, and he's right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Exhibit B: About the All-Beef hotdog from Costco. "This thing tastes like dog breath." He's right about that too, and I don't think I'll ever eat hotdogs the same way again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Exhibit C: In reference to the new cracked pepper baked chips we decided to try. "These chips taste like dead birds." How he knows this, I don't want to know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Carry on, O Dreadfully Poetic One. Just as long as you're not talking about dinner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-1582217232537684349?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/1582217232537684349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/everybodys-critic.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/1582217232537684349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/1582217232537684349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/everybodys-critic.html' title='Everyone&apos;s a critic'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SodKX5AvAEI/AAAAAAAAAFA/3hhupP0IMjE/s72-c/IMG_0236.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-1893747372045890161</id><published>2009-08-14T04:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T05:53:53.741-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>Heart of Obedience</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SoVeWjg1fZI/AAAAAAAAAE4/ZoQX92cSxC4/s1600-h/IMG_0655.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SoVeWjg1fZI/AAAAAAAAAE4/ZoQX92cSxC4/s320/IMG_0655.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369801872292281746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SoVeWW2kODI/AAAAAAAAAEw/mIYycN9t6XY/s1600-h/IMG_0663.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SoVeWW2kODI/AAAAAAAAAEw/mIYycN9t6XY/s320/IMG_0663.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369801868893763634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;margin-bottom: 12pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;"The first step of parenting, the step without which all other attempts are in vain, is to establish mutual ties of respect and honor. Unless the children can trust their parents with the handling of their souls, they will not make themselves vulnerable. It is the same with you, is it not? Children must be brought to the place where they want to please their parents. Until children value the approval of their parents more than the lure of any indulgence, there is no foundation for training. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;margin-bottom: 12pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Fear of punishment is not sufficient to make children compliant; it will certainly not remove their adversarial mentality. When parents get to the place where they are relying on threats alone, they have totally lost fellowship and are functioning as the IRS. Threats might get outward compliance but never the heart---quite the opposite.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;margin-bottom: 12pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;So…enjoy the children and cause them to enjoy you. Give them your time, your attention, your laugh, your approval, your touch, hugs, reading, silly funnies; roll on the carpet or out in the yard, push them in the swing, or pull them in the wagon. But most of all let them bask in your smile until they need it like they need breath. Cause them to feed on your fellowship, to relax until they are sure you care only for their good, that you live to enjoy their company and would not be happy without them. Do this and you will have achieved what most Christian homes are missing.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;margin-bottom: 12pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Your reach as a disciplinarian cannot exceed the limits of your fellowship with the child. Rebuke must be delivered in an atmosphere of trust and respect. If you have lost the child's heart, then the child will have lost the heart to please you. If the child is not in agreement to pull with you, it is vain to try to harness him to your rules. The occasional rebuke must be the exception to a constant sharing of positive experiences. When rebuke and chastisement are strung along on a thread of long silences, punctuated by beads of unpleasantries, it will only strangle the relationship, not beautify the child's soul."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;margin-bottom: 12pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;-Debi Pearl (quote courtesy of a friend; thanks, Jennifer!)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Me here, adding a qualification: The goal of causing your child to live for your smile is a temporary one that must give way in them to a desire to live for God's smile. With that qualification, I LOVE this thought. Applying it to my life, it's like Piper says-- only belief in God's superior pleasures gives us the power to free our hearts from the lure of sin's false pleasures. No one sins out of duty. Fight pleasure with pleasure. Truth for me &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt; for my kids.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-1893747372045890161?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/1893747372045890161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/heart-of-obedience.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/1893747372045890161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/1893747372045890161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/heart-of-obedience.html' title='Heart of Obedience'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SoVeWjg1fZI/AAAAAAAAAE4/ZoQX92cSxC4/s72-c/IMG_0655.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-6310277284842058007</id><published>2009-08-13T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T09:58:35.857-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>Week at Grandma's</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SoQes-Rj-XI/AAAAAAAAAEA/WQWtJs145K8/s1600-h/IMG_0701.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SoQes-Rj-XI/AAAAAAAAAEA/WQWtJs145K8/s320/IMG_0701.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369450413712210290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you've probably noticed I've been absent for a few days. . . The kids and I went to my parent's house in the country while Aaron worked on refinishing the hard wood floors. (They look awesome!) My grandparents came from Texas for an extended family reunion so we were able to spend time with them too. Here are a few highlights of the trip!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Watching my grandpa (who has never met Caroline) be silly with my baby and make her giggle. She has a smile for just about anyone, but I think her smile for him had a little extra sugar in it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Owen telling me (during a discussion about what the kids want to be when they grow up): "I think God wants me to be a painter . . .Or . . . maybe I can just be God's helper!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Have I ever mentioned that my kids love Chinese food? We went to a Chinese buffet, and the kids each ate TWO PLATES full. I felt bad that we only had to pay the kid price for them. Olivia is this skinny Little Bit, but man can she pack it away when she puts her mind to it. Fifteen minutes later, of course: "Mommy, I'm feeling a little &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pouffy&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Driving through the Flint Hills. You should see all those shades of green and smoke blue banketing the horizon. And when the sun sets it is magic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-My dad spent three hours clearing moss off his pond so he could take the kids fishing. Owen ran up to the house a little later, eyes glowing, cheeks pink. "Mommy I caught a fish! And Livia caught one too!" Me:"What kind?" Owen, brows scrunched and serious:  "It was a bass! About . . . a medium?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I noticed how much my mom is like my grandpa. I haven't told her this, because I never really noticed it before, but they are so similar. They both have servant's hearts and love to be behind the scenes. They are both thrifty to the extreme (holey pink towels, anyone?- you know what I'm talking about, mama!) and practical and hard-working. It makes me wonder in what ways I resemble my parents, and in what ways my kids will grow to resemble me. Will they see me loving God, treasuring His Word? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing like a week with The Fam to beg the question: Are you turning in to your parents? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-6310277284842058007?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/6310277284842058007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/week-at-grandmas.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/6310277284842058007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/6310277284842058007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/week-at-grandmas.html' title='Week at Grandma&apos;s'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SoQes-Rj-XI/AAAAAAAAAEA/WQWtJs145K8/s72-c/IMG_0701.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-210858590413758480</id><published>2009-08-06T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T20:45:34.806-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>I like old things.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnufzhidMgI/AAAAAAAAAD4/JW3N1JWODLs/s320/IMG_0763.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367059088467112450" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Usually I wouldn't get crazy about old soda bottles, but these are ridiculously cool. (Thanks Deanna!) Not sure what we're going to do with them yet, maybe an urban version of a &lt;a href="http://thebottletreeman.com/mambo/index.php?option=com_frontpage&amp;amp;Itemid=1"&gt;Bottle Tree&lt;/a&gt;? Have you seen those? I think it would be cool to string twinkle lights on a bottle tree for a little night-time shimmer and glow. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What old things have you gotten excited about lately?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-210858590413758480?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/210858590413758480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-like-old-things.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/210858590413758480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/210858590413758480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-like-old-things.html' title='I like old things.'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnufzhidMgI/AAAAAAAAAD4/JW3N1JWODLs/s72-c/IMG_0763.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-4988839454247358906</id><published>2009-08-05T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T15:05:41.233-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>Your Treasure</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oBJzUnxiKwA&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oBJzUnxiKwA&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-4988839454247358906?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/4988839454247358906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/your-treasure.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/4988839454247358906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/4988839454247358906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/your-treasure.html' title='Your Treasure'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-85303553028043559</id><published>2009-08-03T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T20:31:05.389-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>Leaving Starlight</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SneptRO3T4I/AAAAAAAAADw/fx_xYb-Xg7g/s1600-h/IMG_0776.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SneptRO3T4I/AAAAAAAAADw/fx_xYb-Xg7g/s320/IMG_0776.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365944076220190594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the thing you wish you had said? The coherent thought that comes to you a few hours too late? This is a story about words like those.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night, our neighbor invited Olivia and I to the Starlight theater to see Chitty Chitty Bang Bang with her. We picnicked, took silly pictures, laughed about Child Catchers and Truly Scrumptious, and generally enjoyed ourselves until just after the intermission. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Olivia clutched her stomach. "It hurts. It doesn't matter what I do, it just hurts."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Olivia tried to soldier through it; she desperately wanted to see the end. But with two scenes to go, she decided she was in too much pain to enjoy the rest. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the way out to the car, Olivia, nearly in tears, asks, "Mommy, why did God make me sick tonight?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Immediately, my neighbor says (kindly), "Olivia, God didn't make you sick. These things just happen."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Olivia is still looking at me. "But, why &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tonight&lt;/span&gt;? Why couldn't He make me sick &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;last night &lt;/span&gt;when I wasn't doing something important?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I said something to her about God making her body very well, and something about medicine, etc., etc. I said all this on autopilot, because what I was really thinking is that I don't know how to talk casually about the sovereignty of God in front of my neighbor who had recently been sick with cancer. How do you walk next to someone who has been through so much, who denies that God has anything to do with the painful things of life, and how do you tell her that you believe He does? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"For if He causes grief, then He will have compassion according to His abundant lovingkindness. . . Who is there who speaks and it comes to pass, unless the Lord has commanded it? Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that both good and ill go forth? Why should any living mortal, or any man, offer complaint in view of his sins?" (Lamentations 3:32, 37-39)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's what I wish I would have said to these two people that I love: God is good. Even when we don't understand why something has happened to break our hearts, God is never careless with us or with our pain. We can trust in His wisdom, and when that gets hard, we can trust in His goodness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"This I recall to mind, therefore I have hope. The Lord's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning, great is Thy faithfulness. 'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul, 'Therefore, I have hope in Him.' " (Lamentations 3: 21-24)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Olivia, you may not have the Starlight, but the Lord--your Creator, your Saviour, your best friend, your King-- the Lord is yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-85303553028043559?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/85303553028043559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/leaving-starlight.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/85303553028043559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/85303553028043559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/leaving-starlight.html' title='Leaving Starlight'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SneptRO3T4I/AAAAAAAAADw/fx_xYb-Xg7g/s72-c/IMG_0776.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-1732571831425751685</id><published>2009-08-02T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T13:28:39.833-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the scent of bread'/><title type='text'>Mixed Blessings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnX1pCQh1eI/AAAAAAAAADo/u2HOcQhZ3EU/s1600-h/IMG_0756.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnX1pCQh1eI/AAAAAAAAADo/u2HOcQhZ3EU/s320/IMG_0756.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365464616411452898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;THINGS I DO NOT LOVE ABOUT MY GARDEN:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Weeding it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Poison ivy growing in the green beans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Getting poison ivy because of weeding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Fear of getting more poison ivy, which causes abandonment of all weeding-related duties.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;THINGS I LOVE ABOUT MY GARDEN:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-The way the vegetables feel so heavy and sun-warmed in my hand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-The purple scent of basil. (I know I should say that basil smells like green, but I think tomatoes smell green. Basil smells purple.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-The shape of heirloom tomatoes. Round is so over-rated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Poison ivy. (It gives me an excuse not to weed.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-1732571831425751685?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/1732571831425751685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/mixed-blessings.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/1732571831425751685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/1732571831425751685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/08/mixed-blessings.html' title='Mixed Blessings'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnX1pCQh1eI/AAAAAAAAADo/u2HOcQhZ3EU/s72-c/IMG_0756.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-8946415205122190723</id><published>2009-07-31T04:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T05:25:57.340-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the color orange'/><title type='text'>Girls at the Museum</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; "&gt;&lt;span style="float: right; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;h1 style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;“Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal;"&gt;-Emily Dickinson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLardgTAjI/AAAAAAAAACY/uiXkCDlVMHw/s1600-h/IMG_0731.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLardgTAjI/AAAAAAAAACY/uiXkCDlVMHw/s320/IMG_0731.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364590546341003826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLarn1xx4I/AAAAAAAAACg/cBaEl9nButE/s320/IMG_0732.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364590549115455362" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLcSlsLPYI/AAAAAAAAADA/BmrAYFT3-ms/s320/IMG_0724.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364592318064835970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLasqZUcoI/AAAAAAAAAC4/5vQ2oNG32LI/s1600-h/IMG_0718.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLasqZUcoI/AAAAAAAAAC4/5vQ2oNG32LI/s320/IMG_0718.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364590566981268098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLasKJhVdI/AAAAAAAAACo/8GOmsuoeqsw/s1600-h/IMG_0741.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLasKJhVdI/AAAAAAAAACo/8GOmsuoeqsw/s320/IMG_0741.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364590558325069266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLasSxPc4I/AAAAAAAAACw/6PFYachY2iU/s1600-h/IMG_0744.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLasSxPc4I/AAAAAAAAACw/6PFYachY2iU/s320/IMG_0744.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364590560639153026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLcS7og6hI/AAAAAAAAADI/zpccR-dries/s320/IMG_0746.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364592323955059218" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLcTMgzjyI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o9lWH6XJXrM/s320/IMG_0751.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364592328486129442" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:48px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);  line-height: normal; font-size:16px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLcTQOib5I/AAAAAAAAADY/idD4WBMqPvk/s320/IMG_0750.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364592329483251602" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-8946415205122190723?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/8946415205122190723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/07/girls-at-museum.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/8946415205122190723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/8946415205122190723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/07/girls-at-museum.html' title='Girls at the Museum'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/SnLardgTAjI/AAAAAAAAACY/uiXkCDlVMHw/s72-c/IMG_0731.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-7162875893556429601</id><published>2009-07-28T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T06:08:27.522-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good books'/><title type='text'>Return To Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;For my first official post on Grace for a Traveller, I have the honor of interviewing the vivacious main character of my friend &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.betsy-ann.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Betsy St. Amant'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;s newest release &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Return To Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;. Before I introduce Gracie, let me tell you a little about the story:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sm99k6cZo9I/AAAAAAAAACQ/JUcAhEbwGDk/s320/Betsy+St+Amant+-+Return+to+Love.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363643754338690002" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;“I’m Not The Man I Used To Be!” If only Gracie Broussard could believe that! Years ago, Carter Alexander broke her heart and betrayed her. Now, just when she needs him most, he’s back—asking her to believe he’s changed. But this time, it’s not just Gracie who’ll be hurt if he disappears. A penguin keeper, Gracie urgently needs to find a new home for her beloved birds. Carter is the only one who can help. He promises that she can trust him, that he’s not the rebel he once was. And that he needs Gracie as much as her birds do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My take: Excellent storytelling! Betsy gives us characters to care about, a setting as cool as New Orleans jazz, and an ending you'll want to read over again. :) (I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;especially&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; like Lori's character, and the dust bunny named George that Gracie finds in her room. It reminds me of something, but I can't think of what...) As always, Betsy writes with humor and heart! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;L: Gracie, thank you so much for stopping by my new blog. I loved Betsy's book and you are one of the main reasons. I think everybody should rush out and read your story. But I do have a few questions. First of all, (tell the truth!) do you ever just want to tuck one of your penguins under your jacket and take him home with you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;G: Whoops! You caught me, Lori! Haha. I have had such thoughts a time or two. But then Huey or Gumbo splashes me and I remember how messy a penguin in a townhouse would be...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L: True. Which of your penguins is most like you, and why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;G: I think Huey. We both have our feisty moments for sure!! Just ask Carter. Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L: What is your most embarrassing moment? (I had to ask!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;G: My most embarrassing moment? Hmmm. Or let's see, maybe rephrase to most embarrassing moment I am willing to admit in a blog interview...ha! That was probably back in college. I had stayed up too late studying and my brain was just glazed over. I dozed off in the campus library and apparently snored so loud that I drew a crowd. The next day a video of the incident was on youtube!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;L: Nice! Gotta love youtube. I heard you knew Carter way back when. What was he like as a boy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G: Carter as a boy? Well he never really grew up at all so are we talking age or maturity level? Ha! Okay, that was a dig, couldn't resist. Carter was a sweetheart. Then he realized he was good on a guitar and had a voice like melted, drizzled chocolate over a warm homemade brownie...wait, where was I? Oh yes. He was a good kid but he had his moments in highschool. Ohhhh he had his moments. But before adolescence, he was the kid who brought his mom flowers and didn't think it was girlie to bake cookies with me. We had more than one cookie dough fight, believe me! And ignore him when he says he won...never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L: LOL Melted chocolate, hmm? Since we're talking about Carter... what is your favorite kind of music? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;G: I love classical music. Sinatra, especially. Its so romantic and relaxing after a hard day at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L: Favorite Bible verse? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;G: Oh I have several! I suppose it comes down to what I am going through at the time but one verse that always encourages me is hebrews 11:1. Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen. It helps me remember how big God is and how I might not understand things now, but I don't always have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L: Guilty pleasure: a beignet, freshly powdered, or a mocha with extra whip? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;G: Definitely a beignet! I moved to New Orleans for my job, supposedly, but it was really for the beignets. Ssshhhh. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for having me, Lori!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;L: Anytime Gracie. And Betsy, if you're reading this, you can feel free to stop by any time too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The rest of you, please go get a copy of Gracie and Carter's story. (All of my KC friends: I know for a fact they have copies available at the Antioch Rd. Wal-Mart!) Everybody else, there's always &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Return-Love-Inspired-Betsy-Amant/dp/0373875401/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1248820321&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Amazon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 85, 68); line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(85, 85, 68);   line-height: 18px;font-family:tahoma;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-7162875893556429601?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/7162875893556429601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/07/return-to-love.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/7162875893556429601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/7162875893556429601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/07/return-to-love.html' title='Return To Love'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sQ9v7Re3ovI/Sm99k6cZo9I/AAAAAAAAACQ/JUcAhEbwGDk/s72-c/Betsy+St+Amant+-+Return+to+Love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247509993882531172.post-7777297261312832865</id><published>2009-07-28T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T15:51:07.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good to be back</title><content type='html'>It's been way too long. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I shut down my Mac website in February, I feel like I've had a million things to blog about. Isn't that the way it always is? I've got some fun things I want to try for this blog. More on that later. :) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's good to be back! I've missed your comments, so leave them with abandon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And please excuse any Blogger uglies. Basically, I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm giving it a college try. )&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247509993882531172-7777297261312832865?l=graceforatraveller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/feeds/7777297261312832865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/07/good-to-be-back.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/7777297261312832865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247509993882531172/posts/default/7777297261312832865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://graceforatraveller.blogspot.com/2009/07/good-to-be-back.html' title='Good to be back'/><author><name>Lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13625007061379689382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
