<?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-15422728</id><updated>2012-02-16T06:42:36.947-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Tequila Sunrise</title><subtitle type='html'>A Tequila Sunrise consists of 1 1/2 oz. of Tequila, orange juice and a trickle of grenadine.  This blog consists of everything that creates....ME.  Cheers!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>342</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-5904772623156272747</id><published>2008-05-10T23:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T23:16:04.195-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Words Spoken</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Learn to write about the ordinary. Give homage to old coffee cups, sparrows, city buses, thin ham sandwiches. Make a list of everything ordinary you can think of. Keep adding to it. Promise yourself, before you leave the earth, to mention everything on your list at least once in a poem, short story, newspaper article."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Nathalie Goldberg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm on my way to accomplishing this task.  If I can tell a story about...well, let's see....eyebrows, elevators, jeans, online dating, and the list only goes on, then I can write about old coffee cups, sparrows, city buses, and especially thin ham sandwiches (I actually use to love hot ham and cheese sandwiches that I would  smash between my hands before eating, delicious!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;One quick story about my ham sandwiches before I go for the night.  When I first met my ex-husband's parents and entire family, it was like days before we actually tied the knot.  We had dated for about 1 1/2 years before we actually got married, and because we were both away in the military I had never met them.  My ex-mother-in-law would make some food that my ex-husband knew that I would be funny about, such as linguine with squid sauce (wouldn't touch it), so he made sure to tell her to have plenty of ham and cheese on hand for my smashed  sandwiches.  She did!  My ex has a pretty cool family, I really like them.  Still to this day they are sweet to me when they see me, even though he has remarried.  They still treat me like family, more than ten years later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-5904772623156272747?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/5904772623156272747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=5904772623156272747' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5904772623156272747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5904772623156272747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/words-spoken.html' title='Words Spoken'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-8589908205318047308</id><published>2008-05-08T16:03:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T16:19:29.562-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Me?  Extremely annoying?  Okay maybe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SCNesDCylVI/AAAAAAAAAC4/ndm_XsgfVv4/s1600-h/Michael+Buble%27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SCNesDCylVI/AAAAAAAAAC4/ndm_XsgfVv4/s320/Michael+Buble%27.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198102505739949394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times I can be extremely annoying, right now would be one of those annoying times.  I am stuck on a Michael Buble' song &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPUJIbXN0WY"&gt;"Everything."&lt;/a&gt;  When I get stuck on a certain song and I will play it repeatedly; just like I am doing now.    Over and over and over again.  It is killing my kids, but you know what the kicker is?  My daughter is the one that got me stuck on the song.  She created the monster. They probably could have handled the first twenty times that I listened to it in the past two days, but maybe I'm getting a bit ridiculous.  Huh, maybe I will stop, then again maybe I won't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-8589908205318047308?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/8589908205318047308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=8589908205318047308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8589908205318047308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8589908205318047308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/me-extremely-annoying-okay-maybe.html' title='Me?  Extremely annoying?  Okay maybe'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SCNesDCylVI/AAAAAAAAAC4/ndm_XsgfVv4/s72-c/Michael+Buble%27.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-7705054108369632880</id><published>2008-05-07T23:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T23:21:19.673-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's still good in 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SCJxlDCylUI/AAAAAAAAACw/pQfdz5M2No4/s1600-h/Life+is+your+canvas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SCJxlDCylUI/AAAAAAAAACw/pQfdz5M2No4/s320/Life+is+your+canvas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197841801225082178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-7705054108369632880?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/7705054108369632880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=7705054108369632880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7705054108369632880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7705054108369632880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/its-still-good-in-2008.html' title='It&apos;s still good in 2008'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SCJxlDCylUI/AAAAAAAAACw/pQfdz5M2No4/s72-c/Life+is+your+canvas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-207189091604208711</id><published>2008-05-07T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T22:31:23.418-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote-author unknown</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; "If you can't handle me at my worst...then you don't deserve me at my best."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-207189091604208711?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/207189091604208711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=207189091604208711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/207189091604208711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/207189091604208711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/quote-author-unknown.html' title='Quote-author unknown'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-6606001454515353427</id><published>2008-05-07T22:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T22:28:29.402-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding our strength</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Might we to say to the confused voices which sometimes arise from the depths of our being:  "Ladies, be so kind as to speak only four at a time."--Anne-Sophie Swetchine, The Writings of Madame Swetchine, c. 1869&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies, we are not confused, we just can't think straight with all of these damn women trying to control the conversations going on in our brains.  Once in a while you just need to tell them to shut the hell up, and listen to them ONE at a time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We deceive ourselves when we fancy that only weakness needs support.  Strength needs it far more."--Madame Swetchine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been deceiving myself lately, but I'm finding again, that foundation that supports my strength.  How could I have lost it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-6606001454515353427?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/6606001454515353427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=6606001454515353427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/6606001454515353427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/6606001454515353427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/finding-our-strength.html' title='Finding our strength'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-121571440252020488</id><published>2008-05-07T22:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T22:27:24.773-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Tradition-Hank Williams Jr.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Family Tradition" by Hank Williams Jr.  I heard this song today at work and whenever I hear it it always brings back memories for me; two in particular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was seventeen years old I had a boyfriend, Willy Riggs.  He use to always say to me "Well hello there sunshine" in his deep southern accent.  I remember one time we were all down at the quarry hanging out and this song came on, Willy loved to sing along with this song.  This particular night was the first time I had heard it and ever since it reminds me of him.  Unfortunately about 1 1/2 years later Willy died.  Him and another friend had been out late drinking AND driving; he was the passenger. For some reason the driver decided that he was going to try to beat a train, unsuccessfully.  Willy died, the driver lived.  Right after graduation I had left for the Army, and he died shortly after I finished AIT.  I found out about it a week later, and I never had a chance to go to his funeral.  It has been some time since I have thought of this.  He is missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the up side, my other memory of this song was before I left for the Army I had a stationary bike that I rode ten miles every night.  I would put my headset (back then a cassette player) on my head and just go into another world and ride.  One of the songs that I always played was Family Tradition.  The funny part about this is that I cannot sing at all, and my dog would sit on my bed and watch me ride.  Of course she could not hear the music only my off tune voice, so she would start howling like crazy along with me as I sang the song.  She was the best dog.  She is missed too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-121571440252020488?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/121571440252020488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=121571440252020488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/121571440252020488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/121571440252020488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/family-tradition-hank-williams-jr.html' title='Family Tradition-Hank Williams Jr.'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-6562541855868224048</id><published>2008-05-07T22:25:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T22:25:31.443-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On being a mother...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What follows was taken from an email from an unknown author.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My girlfriend Monique gave this to me to read today at work.  I read it and being the sensitive woman that I am I cried like a big baby right on the line.  Steve said that he was going to file a greivance because she gave me that cry baby shit to read, and he had to sit there and watch me cry.  LOL Steve is a character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BEING A MOTHER...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 17 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie.  She said, "I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been alone for 20 years, but the demands of my work and my two boys had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong, aren't you well" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I thought it would be pleasant to spend some time with you" I responded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just the two of us?" She thought about it for a moment, and then said, "I would like that very much."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous.  When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous.  When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date.  She waited in the door.  She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last birthday on November 19th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiled from a facas radiant as an angel's.  "I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed," she said, as she got into that new white van.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They can't wait to hear about our date."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy.  My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady.  After we sat down I had to read the menu.  Her eyes could only read large print.  Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me.  A nostalgic smile was on her lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were smll," she said.  "Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor" I responded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation--nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other's life.  We talked so mucht hat we missed the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we arrived at her house later, she said, "Ill go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you," I agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very nice.  Much more so than I could have imagined" I answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack.  It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything  for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt fromt he same place mother and I had dined.  An attached not said:  "I paid this bill in advance.  I wasn't sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates-one for you and the other for your wife.  You will never know what that night meant for me.  I love you son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time:  "I LOVE YOU" and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve.  Nothing in life is more important than your family.  Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till "some other time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you've had a baby...somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, "normal" is history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct.  Somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shomebody said being a mother is boring...somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said if you're a "good" mother, your child will "turn out good"...Somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said you don't need an education to be a mother...somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said you can't love the second child as much as you love the first....somebody doesn't have two children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said the hardest part of being a mother is labor adn delivery...somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten or on a plane headed for military "boot camp."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married...Somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother's heartstrings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home...somebody never had grandchildren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her...somebody isn't a mother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-6562541855868224048?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/6562541855868224048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=6562541855868224048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/6562541855868224048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/6562541855868224048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/on-being-mother.html' title='On being a mother...'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-4967422854416021107</id><published>2008-05-07T22:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T22:24:12.634-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In my opinion, the world's most annoying man</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; Anyone that listens to 95.5 knows who Big Boy is.  This guy annoys me to all hell, so much that I actually have to turn the station because I can't even stand to listen to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I was in my car with Rona and she had the station on (I listen to this station but not usually when he is on).  He was on, and there was, of course, another one of those senseless teenagers that wants to have his baby.  (gross!)  The discussion was about young girls that have had babies.  She was 17 and said to him, "I want to have your baby."  He responded with, "You don't want to have my baby.  If you have my baby it will be fat, it will be so fat that it will be born with a yeast infection in its armpits."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FINALLY HE MAKES SENSE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-4967422854416021107?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/4967422854416021107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=4967422854416021107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/4967422854416021107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/4967422854416021107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/in-my-opinion-worlds-most-annoying-man.html' title='In my opinion, the world&apos;s most annoying man'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-3233161548678753969</id><published>2008-05-07T22:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T22:22:35.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Talk</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;This summer I've decided it's time to get a new car.  I have been trying to decide whether I should get a Charger or the Nitro.  Maybe my opinion is biased but I believe that Dodge/Chrysler vehicles (and trucks) are the best looking ones on the market.  (Just my opinion)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this evening as I drove past the gas station and noticed that the prices have now reached $3.65 per gallon here in Michigan.  Considering the fact that I drive about 100 miles per day just for work, I may have to reconsider my options.  I was thinking maybe a mini cooper or a pedal bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of pedal bikes, I had a conversation the other day with a few of my friends.  I have always wanted to get a bike and ride the bike trail at the Metro Park by my house.  I have been waiting for someone willing to ride with me, but I've also realized that if I wait for someone else I may never get to do it.  Some times you just have to get out there and do your own thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well our conversation went something like this.  I told Steve that I was thinking about getting a bike.  I was wondering if I should get a mountain bike or a ten-speed.  You have to know Steve, but he has three things that he LOVES to do, ride his bike, fish and play with wood.  He proceeded to explain how he has a $4,000 PEDAL bike.  That was a perfect opportunity for Chris to jump into the conversation and put his two cents in.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Chris said, "man, with that I could buy a new bike at Wal-mart for $100 for the next 40 years."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;You gotta love Chris and his sense of humor.  They both make me laugh all day long.  You wonder why I enjoy work so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-3233161548678753969?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/3233161548678753969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=3233161548678753969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/3233161548678753969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/3233161548678753969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/just-talk.html' title='Just Talk'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-1477829945303383465</id><published>2008-05-07T22:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T22:20:06.894-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Religious folk at the door</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:100%;" &gt; Okay I am suppose to be getting ready for class tonight but I just had to write about something real quick before I leave, otherwise I will forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone knocked at the door, so I told the boys to go get it.  I always do that because nobody ever comes to the door for me without me expecting them.  Since I wasn't expecting anyone I sent to kids off to answer it.  Jason was on the computer so Joey got up to get it.  As soon as he opened the door I heard those ever familiar words "if you were to die today, would you go to heaven?"  Joey responsed with, "I don't know" through a crack in the door.  We have a cat that likes to sneak out so he wasn't trying to be rude, but instead attempting to keep the cat in the house.  The girl continued on with her pitch and I couldn't help but laugh.  Joey was so polite and listened to everything the girl had to say, he even answered all her questions.  It is just so funny because everyone, probably even yourself and I know myself do just about anything we can to avoid these sort of visitors.  Myself, I happen to be agnostic, but my kids believe in God, and I have no problem letting them go to church or learn about God.  I'm not the sort to keep them from religion.  I remember when they were young and I would let them go to Sunday school and I would listen to them talk to each other afterwards.  Some days when they would have disagreements among themselves I would hear one say to the other, "God knows you're lying."  I thought that was just the cutest thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to the vistor today.  After they left Joey shut the door and said, "I love God and everything, but I'm not answering the door anymore!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-1477829945303383465?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/1477829945303383465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=1477829945303383465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1477829945303383465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1477829945303383465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/religious-folk-at-door.html' title='Religious folk at the door'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-80049345297301311</id><published>2008-05-07T22:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T22:18:02.240-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Have you seen OTIS?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Yesterday I went to the theater and saw the movie "Vantage Point."  There was a point in the movie where the President got onto an elevator and after the doors closed the Secret Service man standing at the door spoke into his mic/headset that "Otis is on the move." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids didn't get it, but I did, and I had to giggle to myself because it reminded me of something that we use to do years ago.  When I was in the Army I was a surgical technician.  In the operating room there are surgical instruments called elevators.  When a soldier goes through surgical technician training in the military, a good portion of their training is OJT (on job training).  You can imagine that this is a perfect opportunity to play tricks on the new guy or gal.  Most of us that come through are very young, such as myself, I was only 18 years old when I started as a surgical tech, fresh out of highschool.  It was usually the older staff that seemed to have the most fun with it, such as the doctors themselves.  Whenever we had new tech come into the department someone would always ask them to run down to Central Material to get an OTIS elevator.  Of course they would do as they were told, and when they got to CMS they would find out that the joke was on them.  They had actually taken the OTIS elevator to get to the first floor.  Little did they know that OTIS elevator is just a brand name for the world's largest manufacturer of vertical transportation, i.e. elevators and escalators.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can understand where someone could fall for something such as the OTIS elevator, even so we still found it hilarious when we did get the opportunity to trick someone.  Sometimes though they got a bit ridiculous about it and while doing a GYN procedure they would send them out for some "sterile fallopian tubes."  Okay sterile fallopian tubes, I don't think so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-80049345297301311?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/80049345297301311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=80049345297301311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/80049345297301311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/80049345297301311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/have-you-seen-otis.html' title='Have you seen OTIS?'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-7738201159109741892</id><published>2008-05-07T22:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T12:57:48.229-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's Bowl of Stupid</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; One of my favorite quotes or question is "Did you eat a bowl of stupid for breakfast?"  Well every once in a while you have someone do something that just makes you want to look at them and say exactly that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was one of those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just came back from the salon, where I had my eyebrows waxed.  I went into the room and the woman proceeded to apply the wax.  Afterwards she handed me a mirror so that I could see the results.  I looked at both eyebrows, then back and forth to each of them.  I said to the woman, "Doesn't one look a little longer than the other?"  I was actually being nice, there was a considerable difference between the two.  She shook her head in agreement and said, "Yes, one does look longer than the other."  I gave her back the mirror and she applied lotion to the area.  Then she turned to put away her tools and had the nerve to utter the simple word "ok" which she meant was "ok, I'm done, now you can get off the table  so that I can take your money and that of every other person in here that wants to look like an idiot."  What the heck was she thinking?  Did she seriously think that she was finished?  That I was going to get up off of that bed and walk out into the world with one short and one obviously longer eyebrow as if no one would notice?  Does she have no pride in her work?  Is she crazy?  No, did she eat a bowl of stupid for breakfast?  Yes, I think she did!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe it or not I was actually polite.  She did fix the problem after I insisted.  I'm still amazed that I even had to tell her, especially after I pointed it out and she agreed.  I told her thank you as I left, but FYI, I won't be returning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-7738201159109741892?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/7738201159109741892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=7738201159109741892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7738201159109741892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7738201159109741892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/todays-bowl-of-stupid.html' title='Today&apos;s Bowl of Stupid'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-8502041820780075145</id><published>2008-05-07T22:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T22:15:15.901-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought for the day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SCJiJDCylTI/AAAAAAAAACo/O2Bj7xVxRvM/s1600-h/Shitty+ideas+joke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SCJiJDCylTI/AAAAAAAAACo/O2Bj7xVxRvM/s400/Shitty+ideas+joke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197824827514328370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-8502041820780075145?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/8502041820780075145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=8502041820780075145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8502041820780075145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8502041820780075145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/thought-for-day.html' title='Thought for the day'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SCJiJDCylTI/AAAAAAAAACo/O2Bj7xVxRvM/s72-c/Shitty+ideas+joke.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-2814169191922164612</id><published>2008-05-06T17:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T17:53:53.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What sucks about buying a new pair of jeans</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; What sucks about buying new jeans is when you think to yourself "I really like those jeans, but I know that I am going to lose weight and it only makes sense to buy them in a smaller size so that when I lose weight (which I will) I can fit into them."  You don't want your "cool" jeans to be your "fat" jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this is exactly what I did last September.  I actually went to a store and bought some shirts which I ended up returning.  I didn't have the receipt so I got in store credit.  I decided that I would buy a pair of jeans that I thought were so cute, but I bought them a size too small.  I thought this might be a good motivator for losing weight (I have to admit, my losing weight had nothing to do with those jeans, so no, they were not a good motivator.  Instead they sat buried in my closet where I couldn't even see them for 7 months).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well here I am months later and I can fit into those jeans, but guess what.  Now I don't like them anymore.  Now that I have them on me, they suck!  A perfect example of me putting my money to good use.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-2814169191922164612?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/2814169191922164612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=2814169191922164612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2814169191922164612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2814169191922164612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-sucks-about-buying-new-pair-of.html' title='What sucks about buying a new pair of jeans'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-8365350239917792370</id><published>2008-04-21T16:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T16:59:38.024-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A frightful Halloween</title><content type='html'>This is an old story from last Halloween, and probably another one of those "you had to be there moments," but I'm gonna tell it anyway since I am bored right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually wake up at 4 am for work.  On this particular Halloween morning I woke up as usual and took my shower.  After getting out of the shower, I noticed that my cat wasn't around like she usually is in the morning while I am getting ready.  It was then that I remembered that she had escaped outside the night before (she is an indoor cat).  When this happens she is usually right there by the door in the morning ready to come in, if not then near enough that she can hear the door open and come running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning there was no running involved.  The light was out, but with the light shining out from the kitchen I could see the poor little thing sitting there.  She just sat there with her legs tucked under her facing the door (screen door was already opened).  I stepped aside so that she could run in, and did my usual call to her "come on baby, come on."  I did this for what seemed like a few minutes, but was probably more like seconds before my eyes focused and I realized THIS WAS NOT MY CAT AT ALL!!  I stood there looking at this long, ugly, bare skinned face staring at me.  It was probably thinking the same thing as me "what the hell?" I was trying to let an opossum in the house.  Suddenly I screamed at the top of my lungs and slammed the door shut.  I woke up all three of my kids, and I'm quite sure some of my neighbors.  I do have a pretty healthy set of lungs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was terrified to open the door again, but I knew that I had to.  When I eventually got the nerve to open it, the opossum had more than likely waddled himself back down the steps and it was my cat that ran into the house like a bat out of hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Happy Halloween!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-8365350239917792370?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/8365350239917792370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=8365350239917792370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8365350239917792370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8365350239917792370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/04/frightful-halloween.html' title='A frightful Halloween'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-5541008793303100399</id><published>2008-04-21T14:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T14:14:53.904-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love songs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.ultimatemyspace.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.ultimatemyspace.com/userpics/ult_banners/0001.gif" alt="Banners / Quotes" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              Some people just aren't made to fall in love.  Yours truly.  But seriously life goes on.  What's next on the agenda?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-5541008793303100399?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/5541008793303100399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=5541008793303100399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5541008793303100399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5541008793303100399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/04/love-songs.html' title='Love songs'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-7524209592020507175</id><published>2008-04-21T12:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T12:59:24.034-04:00</updated><title type='text'>She grew on me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SAzFezN_kyI/AAAAAAAAACg/vuHxvhdkMuA/s1600-h/Chilly+so+cute.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SAzFezN_kyI/AAAAAAAAACg/vuHxvhdkMuA/s320/Chilly+so+cute.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191741603386987298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but write a post every once in a while about my little feline Chilly.  This is her serious look.  LOL.  This crazy animal is just like one of my kids.  She does the craziest stuff, you know just like your kids did when they were little.  She follows us from room to room.  If I go to my bedroom she is right there behind me, if we are all in the living room she will be right there with us, usually sprawled out on her back in the middle of the floor with her legs spread wide.  Strange to find this position so comfortable for her, but she looks completely relaxed when she does it.  Thank goodness she got past her stage of ripping toilet paper up like confetti and spreading it all over the house.  Now she enjoy going into the bathroom and knocking personal hygiene items into the toilet instead.  Like the counter top is her territory and nobody better think about putting anything in her way.  As annoying as her little ways are, I, the one that refused to have animals, loves her to death.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-7524209592020507175?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/7524209592020507175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=7524209592020507175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7524209592020507175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7524209592020507175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/04/she-grew-on-me.html' title='She grew on me.'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SAzFezN_kyI/AAAAAAAAACg/vuHxvhdkMuA/s72-c/Chilly+so+cute.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-8791357205412020108</id><published>2008-04-20T20:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T22:02:19.094-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting reacquainted</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SAvn4DN_kxI/AAAAAAAAACY/T66VKn4pDNU/s1600-h/Rhonda+April+2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SAvn4DN_kxI/AAAAAAAAACY/T66VKn4pDNU/s400/Rhonda+April+2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191497945597317906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:  April 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've taken a little bit of a detour from blogger with myspace, but I've recently come to realize that I appreciate blogger much more than I do myspace.  I still have the myspace account only because the few people that I know NEVER use blogger, so they will find me on myspace when they need to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had planned to write more, but it seems as if it is getting late so I will try to reacquaint myself with blogger later this week.  Until then have a  great week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-8791357205412020108?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/8791357205412020108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=8791357205412020108' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8791357205412020108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8791357205412020108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/04/life-what-ride.html' title='Getting reacquainted'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/SAvn4DN_kxI/AAAAAAAAACY/T66VKn4pDNU/s72-c/Rhonda+April+2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-2346530478087360484</id><published>2008-04-07T21:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T21:33:32.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not quite gone for good yet</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I have posted anything to this blog.  It seems as if I have lost the passion that I once had for it.  Of course I lost that passion way before I actually stopped writing in it.  I miss the old friends that I once had on here, Robin, Zataod, Donna, Maria and BW.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never seem to delete it.  I guess I figure one day I might actually come back to it and enjoy it again.  Who knows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-2346530478087360484?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/2346530478087360484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=2346530478087360484' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2346530478087360484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2346530478087360484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/04/not-quite-gone-for-good-yet.html' title='Not quite gone for good yet'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-986423328027702347</id><published>2008-01-23T17:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T18:05:42.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Only in my dreams!</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I have the weirdest dreams.  Last night is a perfect example.  Well I can't say it is too weird, because I can understand why I did it.  I'm amused by the way that the mind works in our dream states, at least in mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had a dream that I looked into a mirror and for some reason I placed my finger behind my two front teeth.  Moving my finger from side to side I realized that these two teeth in particular were nearly transparent, well not necessarily transparent, but pretty darn close.  Of course since I have always been one to notice one's teeth upon first meeting them, I found this to be very disturbing.  I know sounds pretty vain huh?  So much going on in the world and I have to dream about the appearance of my teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the reason behind the dream was the fact that I had a dentist appointment last week.  While I was there they had an advertisement on their wall about a Sonic toothbrush.  I happened to ask the dental tech about it and she said that it was basically for people that drank a lot of coffee or other such things that discolored their teeth.  She added that I need not worry about it because my teeth were already white.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is strange how daily events can trigger such dreams.  I guess her saying that my teeth were white caused me to take it to the extreme and imagine them to be nearly transparent.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, time to run.  Maybe next time I'll repeat the dream where a completely blue Elizabeth Taylor tried to give me dating advice.  Ha,ha, yeah I know that is pretty funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-986423328027702347?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/986423328027702347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=986423328027702347' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/986423328027702347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/986423328027702347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2008/01/only-in-my-dreams.html' title='Only in my dreams!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-5248834902009938277</id><published>2007-10-21T15:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T18:41:44.060-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Volunteering</title><content type='html'>This past week I had a wonderful opportunity to do some volunteer work.  Since my children are getting older I now have the opportunity to get more involved in doing volunteer work.  I am becoming involved with the veteran's committee with my union.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My local worked with SE Michigan Veterans Stand Down.  Their efforts helped to feed, provide clothing and support to more than 400 homeless or needy veterans in the Detroit area.  It was a two day event, and a wonderful experience for myself and I am quite sure many others. I plan to volunteer for next year's events and the years to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-5248834902009938277?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/5248834902009938277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=5248834902009938277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5248834902009938277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5248834902009938277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/10/this-past-week-i-had-wonderful.html' title='Volunteering'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-2089177743336237858</id><published>2007-10-21T14:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T14:23:10.947-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things we take for granted</title><content type='html'>As I said previously I am reading a book titled "The Curse of the Singles Table:  A true story of 1001 nights without sex."  I am still reading it, and enjoying it, but since I had to attend a band concert at my children's school I decided that it wasn't an appropriate title to be caught reading in the bleachers while I waited for the performance to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to be safe, I brought along another book titled "An Anthropologist on Mars:  Seven Paradoxical Tales" by Oliver Sacks.  I've only read a majority of the first chapter which details a painter that was involved in an automobile accident and several days later began to realize that he had become totally colorblind.  You may or may not be aware, but when a person is considered colorblind they have different colors that they may not be able to see, it is rare for someone to actually be TOTALLY colorblind.  What makes this story so much more interesting is the fact that the man is a painter, so his life has revolved around a world of color.  Eventually this caused the man to have difficulty with being social and even sexual with his wife.  Could you imagine being intimate with a person that has no flesh color at all?  It would be like being with a corpse, talk about ruining the mood.  To this man life was almost not worth living.  Kind of like Socrates that took death over a life without philosophy, this painter would prefer death over a life with no color.  Luckily, he found a way to work around his disability, or so I think he did, I haven't quite finished the chapter yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love a book that makes me think.  This story made me realize how much we take for granted the things in our life that seem so small but are really huge.  They go unnoticed because we always have them.  Color is part of our visual world, and we never stop to realize what life would be like without it.  Imagine eating an apple that was not red, but instead black.  Wouldn't it make you lose your appetite?  It would probably do wonders for my diet, but I wouldn't want it to be permanent, only when I felt the desire to pig out.  Well, this is how life was for the painter.  Look around...take in all the color that you never really notice in your world.  Imagine looking into someone's eyes and never really seeing its real beauty.  Just imagine for a moment a colorless world.  Weird, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing, those that are colorblind tend to be born with it.  It isn't so difficult to imagine a world without color when you never had it.  Although I guess it could be worse.  One could be totally blind.  Imagine having been born blind and never knowing what you actually look like.  Could you have a mental image of what you look like when you have never seen any face, let alone your own face.  I guess in this case you would use your other senses, such as feel, to discover what you look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm feeling pretty grateful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-2089177743336237858?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/2089177743336237858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=2089177743336237858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2089177743336237858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2089177743336237858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/10/things-we-take-for-granted.html' title='Things we take for granted'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-1536029586095183160</id><published>2007-10-15T22:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T18:46:58.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange sleeping habits</title><content type='html'>An update from one of the items listed on my Life List.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had listed that I wanted to move my cat (who sleeps on one of the pedals of my elliptical machine) so that I would use my machine regularly.  Well guess what?  Today I did use my machine, I know it's a miracle.  AND, I didn't have to move Chilli from the machine, BUT while riding I did have a perfect view of another one of her favorite sleeping spots which she was occupying at the time.  Within the past few months she has claimed the top of my china cabinet as hers.  The funny thing is that another one of her quirks is that she regularly sleeps while on her back with belly exposed and legs spread wide (sometimes tail tucked between the legs).  This is exactly the position that I found her in this evening as I was gliding not so gracefully on my machine.  She amazes me everyday with her silly ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She picked up this little sleeping habit after I had her fixed a few months ago.  Is this unusual or something that many cats do after their surgery?  She seems fine otherwise.  When I say she does this regularly, I mean she probably spends at least 50% of her sleep time on her back, and for a cat you know that is a lot of time.  Strange huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-1536029586095183160?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/1536029586095183160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=1536029586095183160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1536029586095183160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1536029586095183160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/10/strange-sleeping-habits.html' title='Strange sleeping habits'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-884757775676935723</id><published>2007-10-15T21:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T18:48:27.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A you had to be there moment</title><content type='html'>I often have to laugh at my children and their sense of humor.  I guess they have one sort of like mine.  Possibly why I find them so funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening I was in the kitchen cooking dinner.  We had roast over noodles, green beans and a salad.  I decided to open up a can of crescent rolls that I had in the fridge and toss them into the oven.  As I was rolling up the little triangular pieces of dough I felt something in a few of them that concerned me.  Upon further inspection I found something that resembled small beads of glass.  Not sure exactly what it was, but I decided it was best to just toss them into the trash.  We could live without the bread.  I broke the news to the kids, and of course they had to come over and inspect the dough for themselves.  Afterwards my son, Joey, decided to read the label for the rolls.  He read off a few of the ingredients, which were not the problem.  Then with a totally serious tone to his voice he said, "Oh it says it right on here, may contain small pieces of glass."  I think my daughter almost fell for it for a moment.  He sounded so serious that you could almost believe him.  It's probably one of those you had to be there moments, but it made me laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-884757775676935723?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/884757775676935723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=884757775676935723' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/884757775676935723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/884757775676935723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/10/you-had-to-be-there-moment.html' title='A you had to be there moment'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-558782465503997850</id><published>2007-10-15T21:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T21:50:21.422-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wouldn't It Be Awesome If...</title><content type='html'>Talk about lists!  What a wonderful post by &lt;a href="http://jenlemen.com/blog/"&gt;Jen Lemen&lt;/a&gt; and her &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/jenlemen.com/blog/?p=183"&gt;"Wouldn't It Be Awesome If..."&lt;/a&gt; list.  I can't help but be inspired.  Check it out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-558782465503997850?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/558782465503997850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=558782465503997850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/558782465503997850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/558782465503997850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/10/wouldnt-it-be-awesome-if.html' title='Wouldn&apos;t It Be Awesome If...'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-800391167914181331</id><published>2007-10-14T21:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T21:19:43.794-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life List</title><content type='html'>Thanks to Ali Edwards, I have found an interesting &lt;a href="http://www.coolpeopleiknow.blogspot.com/2007/08/do-you-have-life-list-if-no-read-this.html"&gt;new blog&lt;/a&gt;.   The owner of this blog has created a site with a collection of Life Lists on it.  I have added to it my &lt;a href="http://coolpeopleiknow.pbwiki.com/Lohryder%27s%20Life%20List"&gt;own personal Life List&lt;/a&gt;, feel free to read mine or to add your own.  Nothing makes reaching your goals more attainable than actually creating a list that you can read often to help keep you focused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son, Joey, just reviewed my Life List with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-800391167914181331?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/800391167914181331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=800391167914181331' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/800391167914181331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/800391167914181331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/10/life-list.html' title='Life List'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-8626200202429769061</id><published>2007-10-14T19:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T10:50:39.213-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"NO FAMILY"</title><content type='html'>Two days ago I walked up to the woman behind the desk at the hospital.  I needed to sign in for the surgery that I was having that morning.  Don't worry, nothing too major, just getting girly parts in working order.  I told her my name, and she looked around for anyone that appeared to be with me.  When she realized that I was alone, she opened her mouth and those dreaded words spilled out, "NO FAMILY?"  As I looked down at the sheet of paper, I noticed that she was writing down those exact word in large letters "NO FAMILY" after my name.  I also noticed that I was the only person with such a label next to their name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then proceeded into a surgical waiting room, where I was the only person not with a friend or family member.  Instead I sat there and pretended to watch the television while I waited for my name to be called.  I felt a wave of relief pass through me as I heard my name being called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course this relief was short lived when I was taken back to a prep room where it was noted again that I had "NO FAMILY."  To add to it, when the nurse left my little cubical she kept the curtain open, which of course made it all too easy for me to notice all the other patients with their relatives by their side offering their comforting words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't lie, I started to cry.  Not a heavy cry, with tears pouring down my face, but instead a gentle pool of tears in the corner of my eyes.  Enough to make me uncomfortable, but not enough to make it obvious to those that walked by.  Although I just knew that my secret would be exposed the moment someone walked up to me and forced me to open my eyes, which I am sure were red and tear filled.  I remember lying there on the litter thinking to myself how much I wished my kids were old enough to have come with me, of course they are not, but I would have liked it.  This is my third surgery, but the only one that I have been alone for.  I am surprised at how much being alone bothered me.  I do so many things alone.  I am sure that someone would have stayed with me, but I hate to ask anyone for anything, so I didn't.  Part of my personality flaw I guess, the inability to ask anyone for help when I need them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've only shared this with one person so far.  Those that know me don't read this blog, with the exception of my daughter, but she hasn't read this in a long time.  I am sharing this because I want it known that no matter how much someone claims that they are fine and don't need anyone, never, never, never let anyone have surgery alone.   They are lying, they do need someone to comfort them also, just like I needed someone to comfort me.  Don't let anyone read the words "NO FAMILY" next to their name on a sign in sheet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, my surgery went fine.  Hopefully my girly parts are in their proper working order.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-8626200202429769061?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/8626200202429769061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=8626200202429769061' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8626200202429769061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8626200202429769061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/10/no-family.html' title='&quot;NO FAMILY&quot;'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-1807114472979689015</id><published>2007-10-14T19:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T19:04:14.111-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother &amp; Daughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RxKpk3qBuUI/AAAAAAAAACA/UNJFElu5pJg/s1600-h/Rona+%26+mom+b%26w+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RxKpk3qBuUI/AAAAAAAAACA/UNJFElu5pJg/s400/Rona+%26+mom+b%26w+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121342177154283842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was taken on my daughter's 15th birthday, which also happened to be her very first homecoming dance, and my 20 year class reunion.  I can't believe how much she is growing up on me.  Isn't she beautiful?  Her escort for the evening was her boyfriend, Andrew.  They looked so cute, both dressed in black and white.  He also gave her a necklace for her birthday, which was sweet.  Not the one in this pic, this was taken before he gave her the gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the dance my daughter, her boyfriend, her two girlfriends and all the parents had dinner together at the Olive Garden.  My ex-husband and his wife came from Ohio to spend the weekend with my daughter for her birthday and all the events that took place.  I thought this was really nice of them to be there for her.  Come to think of it, I was the only single adult there.  Wow, like that never happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said it was the same night as my 20 year class reunion.  Since I decided to spend time with my daughter before the dance I was three hours late to my reunion.  Of course this wasn't a big deal since I barely knew anyone there anyway.  Most of my friends were older when I was in high school.  Those that I did know didn't come for one reason or another.  There were about 4 people there that I actually knew.  I can't say that high school was the most memorable time in my life.  Obvious huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-1807114472979689015?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/1807114472979689015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=1807114472979689015' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1807114472979689015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1807114472979689015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/10/mother-daughter.html' title='Mother &amp; Daughter'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RxKpk3qBuUI/AAAAAAAAACA/UNJFElu5pJg/s72-c/Rona+%26+mom+b%26w+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-8964374057824779103</id><published>2007-08-17T21:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T21:40:19.394-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hustle Time</title><content type='html'>Do the hustle....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, last night was fun.  I am hoping that I will be able to make these dance classes a regular thing.  I swear they teach about fifteen different ones or more per night, so you can imagine how lost I am by the time I leave.  The answer is no, I do not remember a single one.  Although today several of my girlfriends at work taught me how to do the Turbo Hustle (now that is a workout).  At first I had a bit of trouble getting the "roll" together, but I think I am getting it finally.  I told myself that I would learn at least one dance so that I can get on the floor with everyone and do at least that one without messing up.  Don't get me wrong, they have been awesome about working with me.  One instructor in particular must realize that I am extra special because she seems to be giving me extra attention.  I had to laugh when we were doing the "Bad Girl" and she tried to get me to put a little extra groove into it.  I had to let her know that first off I would need to get the steps down before I try to put a little hip or shoulder action into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been really fun though.  Great for me and my girlfriends to get together outside of work, and also for me to get my daughter to learn with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine came over while we were talking about it and thought we were talking about the 1970's hustle.  Little did he know that there are so many new hustles out there, along with Chicago steps.  I had to share a story from my early teens when I had bought a book that had punch out feet that you placed on the floor so that you could learn the steps to the hustle.  I remember trying it, but I never did learn back then.  I wasn't much of a dancer.  I also turned a guy down for Prom only because I was afraid that I would have to dance.  When I look back now I realize how silly that was.  Now I want to learn how to do all the dances.  I do know how to two-step, a few line dances, the electric slide (who doesn't know that?), polka and the waltz.  I wouldn't mind adding to my list, salsa, ballroom and a heck of lot more hustles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't tried it or are afraid to dance, don't pull a Rhonda and miss out, get your butt off the couch and give it a try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-8964374057824779103?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/8964374057824779103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=8964374057824779103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8964374057824779103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8964374057824779103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/08/hustle-time.html' title='Hustle Time'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-6173327296403175467</id><published>2007-08-16T17:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T18:04:28.611-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A bit busier than I thought this week</title><content type='html'>I have a little bit of a busy spell coming up over the next few days, starting with today.  Last week I started Hustle classes with my girlfriends from work.  I ended up having so much fun last week, I hope that today goes just as well.  Although let me tell you that I have absolutely no clue what I am doing, but oh well who really cares?  We decided that after we get some steps down that we were going to go out and actually try out our skills, that should be a hoot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is almost time to head out the door, so I am trying to type this and rustle up some penne pasta for the kids for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter has been going to band camp all this week.  They have been working long hours out in the sun all week long.  Not only that but she has realized the attitudes of the upper classmen towards the freshmen.  I had to laugh last night when she told one of my sons to "cherish middle school while you can."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much to talk about, but I have a head full of hair to comb and pasta to finish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-6173327296403175467?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/6173327296403175467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=6173327296403175467' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/6173327296403175467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/6173327296403175467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/08/bit-busier-than-i-thought-this-week.html' title='A bit busier than I thought this week'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-1473001586106639330</id><published>2007-08-15T16:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T16:57:57.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Does absence make the heart grow fonder?</title><content type='html'>Wow, it seems like ages since I have posted.  I can't say that I have been really busy lately.  I would say that it has more to do with me not having much to say lately, probably within the past year or so.  Coming back today, I still don't have much to say, but someone has kind of brought me back to blogging in a way.  One of my girlfriends got me back to myspace, which is an account that I had but never really used.  I'll use it as a way to keep in touch with her.  We worked together for 8 years, and she decided to take the buyout at work.  I'll miss her, but we will keep in touch.  She is a crazy girl, but ya gotta love her.  I have a few things to do right now, but I'll try to get back in a bit and update the only two remaining blogger buddies that I have left.  It seems that I am not the only one that has taken an absence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-1473001586106639330?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/1473001586106639330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=1473001586106639330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1473001586106639330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1473001586106639330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/08/does-absence-make-heart-grow-fonder.html' title='Does absence make the heart grow fonder?'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-2895776585944653823</id><published>2007-04-06T20:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T20:13:53.730-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Only in my own head</title><content type='html'>Only in my own head....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can I sing (haha).  Please never ever ever let me hear myself singing on tape again.  If anyone besides myself would have heard that tape, I would have been able to put that on my "Life's Most Embarrassing Moments" list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough about that time to watch "Cast Away."  Yes, I know it is old, but I have never seen it.  I have a night to myself and the popcorn in the microwave.  I thought about going out to catch a movie, but since this Michigan weather is so wacky and decided to return to freezing weather again this week after such beautiful weather last week, I refuse to leave the house.  So in the warmth of my livingroom with my diet Pepsi and popcorn, I am enjoying the evening with Tom Hanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-2895776585944653823?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/2895776585944653823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=2895776585944653823' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2895776585944653823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2895776585944653823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/04/only-in-my-own-head.html' title='Only in my own head'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-8192967637336071322</id><published>2007-03-31T11:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T15:20:16.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys.....YUCK!</title><content type='html'>This morning I went browsing through some different blogs. One that I came across was &lt;a href="http://shannonmontez.typepad.com/ramblings_snapshots/2007/03/no_vomit_i_swea.html#comment-64973956"&gt;"Ramblings: a snapshot of my brain." &lt;/a&gt;  I enjoyed the story of her first crush and her attempt to send this boy the "NOTE."  I left a comment on her blog, and also added it to my blog below.  I have always been one that loves to reflect back on my life.  Who was it that said "never look back?"  Why not?  I love to look back, there have been some things in my life that maybe I shouldn't reflect back on, but with those I have usually walked away with a lesson learned.  All the other stuff is just worth remembering.  I don't remember my childhood being bad for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway here is my comment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My "note" went the opposite way. I was on the receiving end of it. I remember it well. I was in kindergarten, and it was given to me by a boy named Johnny. Yuck! It was one of the most humiliating moments in my life. You see, writing is not one of a child's best skills when they are in kindergarten, so this little boy felt the need to have his mother write the note for him. He brought it to school, and since reading is another skill that is not mastered by those in kindergarten he gave the note to the teacher to read for me. Talk about embarrassing! I'm quite sure that I turned the deepest shade of red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay that was bad enough but it got worse. Several days later just happened to be the day for parent/teachers conferences. My mother conveniently ran into another mother while there. Yep, you guessed it, Johnny's mother. Of course she couldn't help but tell the story to my mother, who in turn came home to share it with me AGAIN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH needless to say, he was NEVER my "boyfriend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say if this has affected me in any way throughout my lifetime, but I know that it was enough of an impact for me those many years ago that I haven't forgotten about it, and I don't look back on it fondly. Although at least now I can laugh and shake my head when I think about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-8192967637336071322?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/8192967637336071322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=8192967637336071322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8192967637336071322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8192967637336071322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/03/boysyuck.html' title='Boys.....YUCK!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-3339663763312557816</id><published>2007-03-30T23:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T00:05:54.026-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just life</title><content type='html'>Finally I have some time to actually sit back and relax.  Even though I have not had to work the past two weeks, those two weeks still managed to be extremely hectic for me.  Mostly I think it was all of the homework that I had to catch up on.  I have one more week off of work and I am going to try to work ahead in some of my assignments, that way when I do get back to work hopefully I'll be ahead of the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say though that I am looking forward to getting back to work.  I think having so much time off of work these past two years that I just seem to get lazy during the weeks off.  I would much rather just keep working with the few weeks off here and there throughout the year.  Let me also say that it has done nothing for my waistline either.  Thank goodness the weather is getting nice and I'll be able to spend more time outside.  Even with living in Michigan I still have never gotten use to, nor enjoyed the weather months.  The only enjoyment I get out of it is watching it snow from the comforts of my window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did recently get an Ipod (okay, yes I am probably behind most folks that have already had theirs).  I took some time out last week to install some music and pictures onto it.  It is 30GB, and supposedly I can download some movies onto it, but I haven't bothered with that yet.  To be honest I doubt that I ever will (who would want to sit there and watch a movie on a screen that small?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm reading a book titled "When Culture and Biology Collide."  The beginning of the book covers road rage.  My daughter and I had a discussion about it, and she shared with me how her father expresses road rage, not the get out your car and kick some butt type, but instead the curse everyone on the road out because they aren't doing exactly what you want them to do type.  She said I am different, I rarely say or do anything when I am bothered by someone on the road.  The last time I did anything was probably a year or so ago.   Well that was last night, so what do you think happened today?  Nothing major, but I was the victim of some mild road rage.  I was leaving the school (the boys had their first school dance today) and as I was trying to pull out onto the main road some young impatient boy in the car behind me decided that I wasn't moving fast enough so he started blowing his horn.  After I did pull out I decided I'LL SHOW HIM and made sure I drove below the speed limit.  Of course I was being an idiot for letting that kid annoy me over something so stupid, and my droving slow did absolutely nothing because he never even managed to catch up with me.  All it did was take me longer to get to my destination, and all his honking did nothing for him because he poked along after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay before heading to bed let me share one more thing with you.  I just walked into my bedroom and what do you think I found?  My bed has been taken over by my daughter and Chili.  My daughter is spread out with her feet near the pillows and her head at the foot of the bed, and when I say spread out I mean spread out, taking over the entire queen size bed.  Of course she did manage to leave some room for Chili to curl up in a ball next to her.  Chili seems to have two favorite spots lately, the foot of my bed or my desk chair when I am not in it.  It seems that every time that I get up out of it, upon my return I almost always find her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well not the most exciting post (not that any of mine are), but at least I added something to this blog.  It seems I keep disappearing for months at a time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-3339663763312557816?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/3339663763312557816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=3339663763312557816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/3339663763312557816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/3339663763312557816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/03/just-life.html' title='Just life'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-4102717674263560468</id><published>2007-03-22T10:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T10:41:30.792-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A bit of Chili</title><content type='html'>We have a new addition to the family.  Well we have had her for about a month now.  She is a bit frisky but also somewhat adorable.  I have succeeded over the years in not caving in to my children's whines for furry friends (Okay I did allow the hamsters, but found out that they are smelly so I won't let that happen again).  Recently I have caved in and given into their pleas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are now the parents of a new cat named Chili (don't ask, my daughter's idea).  She is black and white, doesn't even resemble chili at all.  Salt &amp; pepper maybe, but not chili. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment she is sitting on the floor next to me while I am at my desk.  Everytime I look down at her she takes a quick peak at me before she allows her eyes to finally close for one of her daily naps.  It is funny though, it seems as if she is struggling to stay awake, but just can't manage to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is still somewhat young so she is pretty playful, yet not too annoying.  Although I am getting somewhat tired of picking the shreds of toilet paper up off the floor.  She is obsessed with it.  Don't dare forget to close the bathroom door behind you because she will stroll right in there and sit on the toilet, then by using her paw she will unravel the toilet paper from the roll.  After that she goes about bouncing around the house with the pieces ripping them into shreds all over the place.  Tossing them into the air as if it is confetti paper and she is at a party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chili...you can't help but love her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-4102717674263560468?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/4102717674263560468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=4102717674263560468' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/4102717674263560468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/4102717674263560468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/03/bit-of-chili.html' title='A bit of Chili'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-2221194470510289375</id><published>2007-01-19T18:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T18:22:47.839-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home alone, well I might as well be</title><content type='html'>Another relaxing night at home.  My niece convinced my boys to stay the night over her house.  Usually I let her stay here on most weekends, but this weekend I told her no, so she decided to have the boys go to her house instead.    My daughter decided to come home and crash out on her bed.  I tried to wake her up, I told her that it was a girls night alone.  She made an attempt to wake up, but hasn't budged yet.  So I guess that leaves me all alone, with Law &amp; Order and the computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had plans to have dinner with a friend of mine, but he ended up having to work later than expected so we changed our plans for tomorrow.  Instead, after a dose of Law &amp; Order, I'll think I'll crawl into bed a little early and start reading my book "Under The Banner of Heaven."  It is this month's choice for my book club that I just joined.  Not that it is my usual type of reading, but sometimes there is nothing wrong with straying from the usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that I just started my new term of school.  Which is good, because with working, and no school to keep me busy, I've been feeling like I had too much time on my hands.  This term I am taking Physical Anthropology, Geography &amp; Biology.  I think the Physical Anthropology will be interesting to me, but the professor talks soooooo slow that I am somewhat annoyed.  I want to say "spit it out" but of course I wouldn't be that rude.  Hopefully she gets a bit more exciting as the class goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well time for me to get back to my Law &amp;amp; Order.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-2221194470510289375?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/2221194470510289375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=2221194470510289375' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2221194470510289375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2221194470510289375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/01/home-alone-well-i-might-as-well-be.html' title='Home alone, well I might as well be'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-7065918253439220794</id><published>2007-01-15T21:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T22:15:30.134-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shall We Dance?</title><content type='html'>Today was a good, productive day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am sitting here watching &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shall We Dance? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Starring Richard Gere, Jennifer Lopez and Susan Sarandon. They just played the scene where John's (Richard Gere) wife (Susan Sarandon) asked the private investigator why people get married. She said, maybe not in these exact words, that people marry because they want a witness to their life. They want someone to tell them that they will be remembered. That rings so true with me. Why I want someone to share my life with. Let me remind you that I am very single at the moment, but that doesn't mean that I don't fantasize about finding that special someone. When I think about my own death, the first thing I think about is that I'll grow old without sharing my life with anyone. To me this is so sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay enough about that. I'm feeling good right now, no sense it bringing myself down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-7065918253439220794?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/7065918253439220794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=7065918253439220794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7065918253439220794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7065918253439220794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/01/shall-we-dance.html' title='Shall We Dance?'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-4662672108416340668</id><published>2007-01-11T19:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T19:48:31.625-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Simply Happy</title><content type='html'>I think I may have said this before, but I absolutely love crawling into bed with fresh linen.  I also love turning off the overhead light and reading with just the bedside lamp on.  These simple things can really make me happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-4662672108416340668?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/4662672108416340668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=4662672108416340668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/4662672108416340668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/4662672108416340668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/01/simply-happy.html' title='Simply Happy'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-2721654220944713739</id><published>2007-01-10T18:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T19:04:27.999-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Joining in</title><content type='html'>I joined two new groups.  The first was a book club.  I've never joined a book club, but I thought that this would be interesting for me since I enjoy reading so much.  Sometimes when I read a book I want to have someone to share it with.  Most of my friends are not nearly as interested as I am.  The second club was a weight loss group.  Since I have been gaining weight lately I need a way to motivate me to do something about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll see how things go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-2721654220944713739?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/2721654220944713739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=2721654220944713739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2721654220944713739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2721654220944713739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/01/joining-in.html' title='Joining in'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-6394072602501233401</id><published>2007-01-10T15:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T16:48:56.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A New You</title><content type='html'>One of my flaws is my inability to throw things away. A perfect example of this is my growing collection of magazines that I have collected over the years. My logic is that there are things in each one that appeals to me that I might look over again some time in the future. Of course what would make more sense would be to clip the article and organize it in some way and toss the actual magazine. Of course that makes way too much sense for me to actually do it. I have to do some things the hard way. Well today I actually took one of these magazines and browsed through it. It was a February 2005 issue of Fit Body. In it they had a list of 25 "New You" Resolutions. Some of these I follow, others I should probably pick up as new habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Eat breakfast: I can't say I follow this one very well. I have never really been one to have a healthy breakfast in the morning, but I know that it is a habit that I need to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Take a multi-vitamin: Huh, do I get credit for having multi-vitamins, but just not actually taking them? I didn't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Stop waiting until the last minute: I am guilty of procrastination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Indulge yourself: Diets should never deny. WELL I am guilty of overindulging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Take a real vacation: This is a funny thing, while I was in Florida my nephew asked me if I had ever been on a "real vacation." I thought about it and realized that I never have. Visiting family isn't really taking a vacation. I've thought about doing this in my past but I have never actually done it. Part of me is hoping that one day I'll find someone to actually travel with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Count those sheep: On average I get at least 7 or 8 hours of sleep a night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Make some time for you alone every day: I usually head to my bedroom to read a bit before actually hitting the sack. This is a nice relaxing time for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Become an early bird: I have trouble with this one. I am the type to get up thirty minutes before I leave for work and jump in the shower and pretty much head out the door. That doesn't leave much time for one to actually relax before starting out the day. I often wish that this was a habit I would pick up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Do a crossword puzzle, play Trivial Pursuit, or get an evening dose of TV's Jeopardy: Preventing Dementia....this isn't too much of a problem for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Leave work at work: For this one they say to get out of work clothes and get into something comfortable and leave work at home. I'm pretty good with this one. I can't wait to take my jeans off and get comfortable when I get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Take some time to really breathe: I think I do this one sometimes without even really realizing it. Sometimes I'll give out a deep sigh, and when I do this I can just feel a heaviness being lifted off of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Do something you use to do: As Maria asked me in my last post, maybe I should get back to doing some scrapbooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Start a journal: Does keeping this blog count?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Pamper yourself: Something else I need to work on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Volunteer: I have a strong desire to volunteer, but it seems at times impossible for me to commit to something when my life can get so overwhelming at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Dance to the music: It says to do this at least 5 minutes a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Make your annual check ups: Ahhh finally one that I have already accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Find your mantra: I'll have to search for something special for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Feed on fat: Well I have no problem feeding on fat, but unfortunately it is the wrong type. I don't get enough mono or poly-unsaturated fat in my diet. Although I do love me some black olives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Make your own food pyramid: This is what is said to do-using the U.S. food pyramid, fill in the blocks iwth a list of the foods you love and like. Post this on your refrigerator and pantry doors. Next time you go for a snack or a meal, choose from the foods at the base of your pyramid and you'll be on your way to a healthier, slimmer you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Try something new: I like this idea. It doesn't have to be anything complex, it can be as simple as a new recipe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Have more sex: Well I'll leave this one alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Laugh yourself silly: One thing I can say for sure about me, I never have to remind myself to laugh, this is something that I do often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Love yourself: Sometimes I beat myself up, but on most days I appreciate who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Exercise: Whoa, this one is a major problem for me. Especially since I haven't been working so much lately, and since I have a job that keeps me moving constantly I have felt the damage being done with so much time off of work. Also I have never really had good knees and lately my right knee has been giving me some trouble, so I have been putting off doing anything that might make it worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I didn't really make a resolution. Okay I made one to loss weight, but that is a given.  Who doesn't say that every year?  My year started out kind of bad, but I feel that this year is actually going to turn out to be pretty darn good. At least I hope that it will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-6394072602501233401?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/6394072602501233401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=6394072602501233401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/6394072602501233401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/6394072602501233401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-you.html' title='A New You'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-2014583181549079762</id><published>2007-01-07T10:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T11:09:11.165-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another day in Rhonda's world</title><content type='html'>It seems that things are back to normal for me.  The kids are back from their holiday with their father.  I am back from my trip to Florida and everything seems to be falling right into place.  The only thing is that I can't seem to get rid of the hives that I managed to get while I was in Florida.  I called my doctor and if it doesn't go away I will give him a visit sometime this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am sitting here watching &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Boy Meets Grill&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; with Bobby Flay.  Not that I have an interest in Bobby Flay, but I'm sitting here thinking to myself how cool it would be to find a guy that enjoys cooking.  I don't try new recipes nearly as much as I would like to.  It would be nice to have someone to share some new experiences with.  Although I bet I could get my boys to cook with me.  The boys probably enjoy cooking more than my daughter does.  I guess teaching them how to cook would help some lucky girl in their future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets see...today I am suppose to meet my girlfriends for dinner.  We decided to celebrate my birthday today even though it is still several days away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I am back on layoff again from work for three more weeks I am going to try to improve my organizational skills, and to get rid of some of my excess that I have hanging around the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of improving organizational skills, I better get moving and start getting some stuff done around here.  I actually have tons to do around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-2014583181549079762?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/2014583181549079762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=2014583181549079762' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2014583181549079762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2014583181549079762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/01/just-another-day-in-rhondas-world.html' title='Just another day in Rhonda&apos;s world'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-5403724550175081288</id><published>2007-01-02T16:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T16:23:55.655-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to work for me...at least for four days</title><content type='html'>Today was my first day back to work after my three weeks off.  I guess I'm a weird one because I actually enjoy going to work.  Sitting around the house starts to get old.  It was great to see my friends again.  I have some awesome buddies at work, but they live so far away from me that I don't get to see them much when we are off.  Lucky for me, one of my girlfriends just moved fairly close to me, so we'll be able to hang out with each other more often during our down time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-5403724550175081288?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/5403724550175081288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=5403724550175081288' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5403724550175081288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5403724550175081288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/01/back-to-work-for-meat-least-for-four.html' title='Back to work for me...at least for four days'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-5220630106142290746</id><published>2007-01-01T15:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T15:40:53.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolutions</title><content type='html'>As I am sitting here eating a Snickers I am thinking about this year's resolution; to lose weight.  I'm off to a pretty good start huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-5220630106142290746?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/5220630106142290746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=5220630106142290746' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5220630106142290746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5220630106142290746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/01/resolutions.html' title='Resolutions'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-3722533251724576497</id><published>2007-01-01T14:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T15:36:55.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What a wonderful New Year's Day!</title><content type='html'>Well there is a lot to say, but I'm not sure that I am in the mood for anything too detailed at the moment.  First off I am still adjusting to being back here in Michigan after my trip to Florida.  My hands are cold, and they don't seem to be moving at their usual speed.  Everything feels like it is in S-L-O-W  M-O-T-I-O-N right now.  Of course the only thing that is probably slow motion right now is just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me first start off to say that this weekend didn't go so well.  I spent the weekend red, itchy and covered in welts.  I somehow managed to get a travelling rash from so sort of reaction to something.  What I have no idea.  Anyway, I wasn't sure what this was from since neither myself nor my children have ever experienced anything like this (thank goodness my children a pretty healthy).  Since I had this mysterious rash travelling all over my body I didn't want to go visit my grandmother at the rehab center until I was sure that it was something that I wouldn't pass on to her or any of the other patients.  To make sure six hours of my New Year's Eve were spent at the hospital.  Nothing major, I got a steriod shot in the bootie, a prescription for something to help with the itching and picked up some Benadryl.  Let me tell you I am soooo happy that I went because I couldn't imagine taking that plane ride this morning and itching all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well enough of that, as you can see I was miserable so I didn't get much sleep last night, but I did wake up this morning and I was good as new.  I had to wake up at 4 am to make the trip home.  So you can imagine how upset I was when I got to the luggage area to find out that my sister didn't come and get me and noone can seem to get ahold of her.  GRRRR!  So as I am sitting in the airport wondering who the hell is going to pick me up (I couldn't get ahold of anyone)  I considered taking a cab ride home; luckily I don't live too far away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I know my cell phone is ringing, so I answer it.  I is a friend of our family (actually one of my sister's ex-boyfriends) and he said, "hey were are you at?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I responded, "I'm at the airport where are you?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm at the airport too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow, what are you doing at the airport?"  As the words came out of my mouth I was thinking to myself what a coincidence, what are the chances that he would be at the airport and call me at the exact time that I am sitting here trying to find a ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I got a text message that said you needed a ride home from the airport."  Ahhh, the moment of clarity, and I thought it was an amazing coincidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way I was happy to get a ride home, and glad that it he was less than ten minutes away from me when he got the text, a text that my nephew sent him.  So I managed to get a ride home, but then I had another challenge.  My other nephew was house sitting for me but when I called home nobody answered the phone.  So I'm thinking to myself, great I finally get a ride home and now I probably won't even be able to get in because I left the housekeys with him.  GEEZ!  Lucky for me though he was home, the phone was just dead from being off the charger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after this I got into my car and it wouldn't start.  The battery was dead.  Luckily my sister had her car at my house and my nephew had the keys so I used her car to charge my battery. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, right now I am just waiting for something good to happen.  I mean with everything going wrong today, my luck has to turn around some time.  I'm hoping it is soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hoping that this isn't a taste of what the New Year has in store for me.  If so I'll think I'll rewind back to 2006 and try it again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-3722533251724576497?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/3722533251724576497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=3722533251724576497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/3722533251724576497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/3722533251724576497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-wonderful-new-years-day.html' title='What a wonderful New Year&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-1024026513622950562</id><published>2006-12-23T13:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T19:18:32.311-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Florida Bound</title><content type='html'>I'll be leaving shortly for my trip.  Unfortunately I have to return to work on the 2nd so I'll be back on the 1st.  I'm not sure how much of an opportunity I'll have to blog, but if I get the chance I'll do what I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual on my way home from dropping of the kids to see their father I felt a heaviness on my heart.  They go to visit often, but I never seem to stop feeling this way.  I am sure that they will have a nice time sharing the holidays with his family.  They have a big family and everyone pretty much lives in the area, so family get-togethers are common for them.  All I have here is my sis and two of her children.  I wonder if when my kids get older if they will visit mom for a holiday dinner or will they have other plans.  I'm hoping that we can at least work something out to celebrate together for at least one of the days, Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.  Of course that is years down the road, no need to really think about it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention who I am visiting while I am in Florida?  My parents live down there along with my nephew (my sister's oldest son).  My parents raised her two oldest boys.  She got pregnant pretty young, way before she was ready to be a mother.  I'll also be visiting my grandmother, my only living grandparent.  My favorite presents that I will be giving this year are for my grandmother.  Besides buying her a couple of boxes of chocolates (she loves her sweets), I am returning a sweater to her that belonged to my grandfather.  He use to wear cardigans all the time, and when my grandmother decided to get rid of her place here in Michigan and live in Florida all year around, my father tried to throw them out.  A while back I mentioned to her that I saved several of them to remind me of him, and she said that she would like to have one.  Isn't that sweet?  So this Christmas that will be one of her presents.  To remind her a bit of my grandfather.  Now HE was a sweetheart.  I miss him a lot.  I didn't get to spend nearly enough time with him before he died.  Anyway, along with that I also bought her a book, a collection of works by Edgar Allen Poe (one of her favorites).  There isn't much you can get for a woman that will probably never return home.  She will probably go straight from the rehabilition center to a nursing home.  These are my favorites because it is everything she loves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well time for me to stop rambling.  I think I'm going to run and have me a bit of lunch/dinner before my flight.  As much as I enjoy not listening to my children fighting,  I am not use to all of this silence.  I guess the alone time is good, but WOW it seems so weird everytime I go through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Holidays if I don't return before then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-1024026513622950562?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/1024026513622950562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=1024026513622950562' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1024026513622950562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1024026513622950562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/florida-bound.html' title='Florida Bound'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-1392161166848142975</id><published>2006-12-22T11:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T12:03:05.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dose of Drama</title><content type='html'>You know what stinks about sitting home so much lately?  The fact that I sit here and watch all the reruns for ER, and become annoyed when last weeks episodes are from a completely different season from the one I am watching today.  This weeks episodes involve Dr. Green, Doug and an inexperienced Dr. Carter.  Next week I'll probably be back to watching a very experienced Dr. Carter in Africa, and a nearly all new cast of characters to replace favorites like Doug (sexy George Clooney) and Dr. Green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I say, with so little drama in my life these days, I have to get my daily dose of drama from somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-1392161166848142975?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/1392161166848142975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=1392161166848142975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1392161166848142975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1392161166848142975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/dose-of-drama.html' title='Dose of Drama'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-5719239741356028690</id><published>2006-12-21T20:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T20:42:44.719-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm outta here!</title><content type='html'>Did I mention that in less than 48 hours I will be saying "Goodbye Michigan, HELLO Florida."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-5719239741356028690?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/5719239741356028690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=5719239741356028690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5719239741356028690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5719239741356028690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-outta-here.html' title='I&apos;m outta here!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-5181477709621835651</id><published>2006-12-21T18:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T09:49:17.209-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Female Brain</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYskXiRJTjI/AAAAAAAAABg/hsvNumRsXL0/s1600-h/The+Female+Brain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011138997134118450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYskXiRJTjI/AAAAAAAAABg/hsvNumRsXL0/s320/The+Female+Brain.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am enjoying the book "&lt;a href="http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Books/story?id=2274147&amp;page=1"&gt;The Female Brain&lt;/a&gt;," however I wish that I had someone that was reading it along with me. There are many parts of it where I wish that I could engage in a conversation about it after reading it. Right now I am only as far as the "mommy brain," although I suspect that I am heading into the menopausal brain, but I haven't read that far yet. I find it interesting how our brains react to these hormones and neurochemicals. Just like how everytime I come into contact with a newborn I feel that "mommy brain" kicking in. I get the urge to have another one of my own, even though I know that this is not something that could happen, or that I would even want to happen at this point of my life, but that brief sensation is there. That longing for another child still warms me up inside. Of course I can be a very patient woman, and I have no problem waiting for grandchildren. Hopefully that won't be anytime soon though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and I love the book cover. The perfect way to depict the female brain, a jumbled up telephone cord. What I also love about this book is that she explains the process in what could be a complicated way, in a way that is very easy to understand and with a sense of humor. My kind of reading.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-5181477709621835651?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/5181477709621835651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=5181477709621835651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5181477709621835651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5181477709621835651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/female-brain.html' title='The Female Brain'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYskXiRJTjI/AAAAAAAAABg/hsvNumRsXL0/s72-c/The+Female+Brain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-7210624222204184694</id><published>2006-12-21T17:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T17:54:22.148-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's up with UPS?</title><content type='html'>What is it with UPS?  Why don't they bother to knock at the door when they drop of packages?  I saw them pull up and I waited for the knock at the door before answering it, but there was never a knock.  Then I heard the truck pull off.  I then opened the door to find my package sitting there on my porch.  Why don't they knock anymore?  Have they just gotten lazy, or is this normal procedure?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-7210624222204184694?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/7210624222204184694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=7210624222204184694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7210624222204184694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7210624222204184694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/whats-up-with-ups.html' title='What&apos;s up with UPS?'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-8046566402832897576</id><published>2006-12-19T21:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T21:09:53.364-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chad Bosma Photography</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYibAiRJTiI/AAAAAAAAABU/o6V_newRdiU/s1600-h/Chad+Bosma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5010425018950700578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYibAiRJTiI/AAAAAAAAABU/o6V_newRdiU/s400/Chad+Bosma.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.chadbosmaphotography.com"&gt;www.chadbosmaphotography.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-8046566402832897576?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/8046566402832897576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=8046566402832897576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8046566402832897576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/8046566402832897576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/chad-bosma-photography.html' title='Chad Bosma Photography'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYibAiRJTiI/AAAAAAAAABU/o6V_newRdiU/s72-c/Chad+Bosma.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-5873448108011948748</id><published>2006-12-19T20:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T21:03:02.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>La Befana</title><content type='html'>Not everyone recognizes Santa as "Jolly Old Saint Nick" in the red suit, with flying reindeer. Supposedly Italian folklore claims that "La Befana" delivers presents to the children, not Santa Claus. She somewhat resembles a witch, wearing a black shawl and riding a broom (no rudolph leading her way). Although is nice and not at all an evil witch. She delivers the presents on the evening of January 5 &amp; 6th, and instead of children leaving milk &amp;amp; cookies, they leave a glass of wine and a few morsels of food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just an interesting twist on our usual Christmas traditions here in the states.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We become so accustomed to how we celebrate things here that we never really sit back and think about how others might be celebrating these same holidays in very different ways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-5873448108011948748?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/5873448108011948748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=5873448108011948748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5873448108011948748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5873448108011948748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/la-befana.html' title='La Befana'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-5000484305371572529</id><published>2006-12-19T12:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T13:28:38.890-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Stuff</title><content type='html'>Guys, you might not want to read this. You know....girl stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently reading the book "The Female Brain." As I was reading it I came across a section that made complete sense to me. The female hormones, estrogen and progesterone and a woman's menstrual cycle; specifically mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two years ago I was bleeding like a water faucet. So bad that I thought there was no way that any person could bleed that much and survive. As you can see I survived. Although it did take some time for me to get into the doctor. You know how they say that women are better about going to the doctor then men are, well sometimes this woman is not so good at it. It seems that when something isn't right with my body my first thought is usually cancer (my family has a history of it). I am sure that I am not alone here, and all my fears usually do is cause me undue stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with my excessive bleeding I also began to have excessive mood swings. Of course I didn't turn into the Wicked Witch of the West, but instead I became extremely sensitive. This usually happened just before menstruation. I would become very depressed, and just down right miserable. I seemed to think that it was the end of the world; my world that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually I decided that enough was enough and I went to visit my doctors, both of them (GYN and family practice). The GYN put me on birth control for the very first time in my life. I thought this was funny, since I had already delivered all the children that I will ever give birth to. I had a tubal ligation after the twins (what did you think I was crazy). It was a simple fix, my hormones were out of whack. Well after the GYN I went to see my other doctor for my "depression." I explained to him about my visit to the GYN, and told him my symptoms. He ended up giving me a prescription for Prozac along with the birthcontrol. He also explained to me that what I was dealing with was Premenstrual Dysphoric Syndrome (a bad case of PMS). You see I only became sad and depressed like that just before my period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit, thinking about this book and my experience, and really thinking about how these hormones can really mess up a woman's brain. Thinking about how quickly her world can be turned upside down, as if life is so miserable that it isn't worth living, but yet a week before she was so optimistic about life. I do see things differently now. Sure I do tend to get a bit down when "aunt Flow" comes to visit, but not nearly as sad as I was when my hormones were so jacked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW...I stopped taking the Prozac after about a month. I wanted to be my normal happy self, not completely numb, which is exactly how it made me feel. Nothing made me happy or sad, I was just left dangling there somewhere in the middle. The birthcontrol made it for about two months before I screwed that up. I've never been very good at taking medications, I'm always forgetting them. It seems though that it was long enough to straighten out my system.  So if you're like me and seem to keep putting off a much needed visit to the doctor, get off your butt and do it....NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....and here I am (smile).....happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-5000484305371572529?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/5000484305371572529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=5000484305371572529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5000484305371572529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/5000484305371572529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/girl-stuff.html' title='Girl Stuff'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-6056231042579511745</id><published>2006-12-18T13:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T13:40:35.482-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Band Geeks</title><content type='html'>Don't you just love it when you children inform you the night before a school event that I need to make cookies.  It always seems to work this way with me and my children.  You would think by now I would expect this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter has a band concert tonight.  Yes, all three of my children are band geeks, but they love it.  Here is a little something about one of my sons.  Everytime he gets in trouble and I send him to his room, he goes in there and plays his instrument.  I wonder if he thinks this annoys me, or is it just his way of passing time (btw, he plays the trumpet).  Either way it's a good thing, I've been wondering if I should send him there more often.  Just a little something I thought was cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countdown to Florida:  5 days&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-6056231042579511745?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/6056231042579511745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=6056231042579511745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/6056231042579511745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/6056231042579511745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/band-geeks.html' title='Band Geeks'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-7012938047892337374</id><published>2006-12-17T17:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T18:36:29.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookies &amp; such</title><content type='html'>Today has been a pretty good day. I made some cookies with my neighbor and my daughter. We had made some Russian Tea Cakes which were cooling. After they were cool, my daughter asked if she could have one. I told her that she could, but that she needed to roll them in powdered sugar first. I was just getting ready to sit down at the computer when I just happened to look over at her as she was gently rolling the cookies in the white powder. That is when I realized that she was rolling them in the flour and not the powdered sugar at all.  Ha, ha, you should have seen the look on her face when I told her.  What a silly girl! Luckily she only did a couple before I caught her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that I did find a new recipe for a &lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/recipe/slow-cooker-chicken-tortilla-soup/detail.aspx"&gt;slow-cooker chicken tortilla soup&lt;/a&gt;. I put it on this afternoon in the slow-cooker and let it cook away. I thought it was delicious, and so easy to make. Although I did skip the bay leaf and frozen corn because I didn't have any, but it was still yummy. A little something good to keep you warm this winter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-7012938047892337374?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/7012938047892337374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=7012938047892337374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7012938047892337374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/7012938047892337374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/cookies-such.html' title='Cookies &amp; such'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-2628100118907552538</id><published>2006-12-17T09:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T09:33:39.584-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreaming is my enemy</title><content type='html'>I know what the problem is. I'm dreaming....well I'm waking up in the middle of my dreams. My dreams are all related to my everyday life. Simple things that happen, that roll over into my dreams and are somehow molded into its own variation of my life. Not necessarily making much sense, but the underlying theme of the dream is simply my life, just with a twist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I dreamed about car doors being wide open, cakes being made for a competition, and a mix between Thanksgiving and Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember the entire dream, only pockets of it. My car was broken into a while back, and now I double, no triple check to make sure that my doors are always locked. This is why I saw the car doors opened. The cake decorating competition had involved my ex-in-laws (that I still get along with), but I wasn't competing against them. Somehow there were also some old friends from the military (not sure how they came into the picture). Now lately I have been baking for the holidays, and the kids are helping so they are sending some goodies to their father. Although I'm not making cakes, I'm making cookies. The mix between Thanksgiving and Christmas I just can't seem to understand, except maybe that it is simply because they are both so close together, and tend to blend into each other anyway. Like I said, the dreams are just a variation of my everyday life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bad part is that once I am awaken I start to think about whatever it was I dreamed about. What to make next for the goodies. Then I am left to think about something else. Why did my daughter's friend's mother call me and ask if I was going to the band concert? Well I know that we get along very well, and she does know that I always show up. Is she planning to give me a small present for the holidays? Don't you feel awkward when you get presents and don't have one to return. Although we did get something for the daughter and we were sending cookies for the family, but should I bring them then or let my daughter wait until the last day of school like she had planned? She is such a sweet lady, we get along so well. Whenever we get together for school events we end up standing around forever catching up on things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that is how I spent my morning so far. I was awaken by a dream, that led me to think about other things, that eventually caused me to do what I have been doing every morning. WAKE UP way too early in the morning. Burying my head under the blanket and pillow do me absolutely no good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually there is probably more to it than that. My internal clock is probably still use to waking up at 5 am, so getting up at 6 am IS sleeping in for me. Although 9 am sounds soooooo sweet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-2628100118907552538?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/2628100118907552538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=2628100118907552538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2628100118907552538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2628100118907552538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/dreaming-is-my-enemy.html' title='Dreaming is my enemy'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-3470911315559060647</id><published>2006-12-16T15:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-16T15:50:59.592-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Holiday Yummies!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYRZxyRJThI/AAAAAAAAABI/IycnEAKdssw/s1600-h/holiday+pretzel+treats.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009227397384982034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYRZxyRJThI/AAAAAAAAABI/IycnEAKdssw/s200/holiday+pretzel+treats.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The kids and I made this holiday pretzel treats this afternoon. They are very simple to make and fun for the kids. To find out how to make these and other holiday treats look &lt;a href="http://jas.familyfun.go.com/recipefinder/display?id=41019"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-3470911315559060647?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/3470911315559060647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=3470911315559060647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/3470911315559060647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/3470911315559060647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/simple-holiday-yummies.html' title='Simple Holiday Yummies!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYRZxyRJThI/AAAAAAAAABI/IycnEAKdssw/s72-c/holiday+pretzel+treats.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-1317178245858753323</id><published>2006-12-16T13:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-16T14:41:28.344-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spread some Christmas joy this year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYQ4QyRJTgI/AAAAAAAAAA8/0ofgZRBBwOQ/s1600-h/Kim+&amp;+Rhonda+Christmas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009190546565582338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYQ4QyRJTgI/AAAAAAAAAA8/0ofgZRBBwOQ/s400/Kim+%26+Rhonda+Christmas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Girls, stop jumping on that couch! You know Santa doesn't bring presents to bad little girls." Just as my mother spoke those words there was a knock at the door. Without knowing who it was she opened it to find someone special. Little did she know there was Santa himself standing in our doorway, dressed all in red, with his checklist in hand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas" he exclaimed as he entered the house. "Have you been good little girls this year?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"OH YES!!" we replied as we climbed off of the couch with innocent little smiles on our faces.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He went on to explain how he was in the neighborhood checking his list and that he would be back on Christmas to bring us presents.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That sounded all fine, but inquisitive young minds want to know. "Hey Santa, where's your reindeer and sleigh?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He must have expected that question because he had a good answer. You see we lived on a military base, my father was in Vietnam at the time, and he explained that they wouldn't let the reindeer on the base so he had to leave them at the gate for security reasons. Okay, that we could understand. Of course they made exceptions for Christmas, and allowed Santa and the reindeer to come to deliver presents to all the good little boys and girls. That of course would be us, since we had been such good little girls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With that he added us to his "good" list and promised to return then waved goodbye. As he walked away we turned to our mother and asked, "Hey mom, when is the snowman coming?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well I'll let you in on a little secret. That wasn't the real Santa. It was a man dressed up as Santa to help spread holiday joy. Since my father was in the war, and we didn't have very much money back then, someone turned our name into a charity. That charity helped us to have a Christmas that year. If you haven't donated this year, do so, and make someone elses Christmas special.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The real Santa did come by that Christmas Eve, and that Christmas morning we did have presents to open.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                       HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!&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/15422728-1317178245858753323?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/1317178245858753323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=1317178245858753323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1317178245858753323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1317178245858753323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/spread-some-christmas-joy-this-year.html' title='Spread some Christmas joy this year!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYQ4QyRJTgI/AAAAAAAAAA8/0ofgZRBBwOQ/s72-c/Kim+%26+Rhonda+Christmas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-4895140793957734412</id><published>2006-12-16T12:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-16T13:14:24.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun with photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYQ28CRJTeI/AAAAAAAAAAk/I5PsW5cuWmo/s1600-h/Rona+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009189090571668962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYQ28CRJTeI/AAAAAAAAAAk/I5PsW5cuWmo/s320/Rona+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYQ28iRJTfI/AAAAAAAAAAs/E9yq6xJQ9-c/s1600-h/Rona+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009189099161603570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYQ28iRJTfI/AAAAAAAAAAs/E9yq6xJQ9-c/s320/Rona+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Kind of cool pics.  My daughter playing around with a camera &amp;amp; the computer.&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/15422728-4895140793957734412?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/4895140793957734412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=4895140793957734412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/4895140793957734412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/4895140793957734412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/fun-with-photos.html' title='Fun with photos'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RYQ28CRJTeI/AAAAAAAAAAk/I5PsW5cuWmo/s72-c/Rona+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-1008501884957084062</id><published>2006-12-16T10:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-16T10:27:24.578-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is that energizer bunny when you need him?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever noticed that when you don't do much, you seem to feel more fatigued?  I know this but I think right now I am going to say "oh well, I am going to read and take a nap."  See ya in a few.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-1008501884957084062?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/1008501884957084062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=1008501884957084062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1008501884957084062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/1008501884957084062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/where-is-that-energizer-bunny-when-you.html' title='Where is that energizer bunny when you need him?'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-2201241535811480248</id><published>2006-12-16T08:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-16T10:16:40.435-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is a test</title><content type='html'>Every morning I seem to wake up no matter how long I WANT to sleep. 3 am, 4 am, 6 am. I hate waking up when I have absolutely no reason to do so. Once I wake up I end up staying up because one thought or another will pop into my brain. Nothing in particular, just thoughts. I guess this is a sign that I am stressed out, but I don't actually know what I am stressed about. Even though money is a lot less that in previous years, I still wouldn't call it a problem. Love life, well we know I don't have one of those, so how could that be the problem? Well then again maybe not having one is a problem, a cause for frustration, but not the end of the world. Sometimes being single is a major plus, but sometimes a major downer. That probably isn't my problem right now either. Kids fighting drives me crazy, but I don't think any crazier than any other time. School is finished for this term, so no worries there either. My biggest problem seems to be what book to read, or when to bake the cookies for Christmas gifts. That doesn't sound too complicated does it? I did start reading a book, "The Female Brain." Actually I'm reading that and "The Mermaid Chair," it seems that I can't just read one book at a time. Before going to bed I read one book and then switch over to the other for a bit before falling asleep. I did have some thoughts on the first few pages of the first book. About how hormones cause women to act certain ways. I know this all to well since about two years ago my hormones were totally out of whack. My doctor put me on birth control to get them back in order, that and a little problem I had with bleeding, well major problem. I didn't think any woman could bleed that much and still be alive. All is well now, the birth control straightened it out, but I got a taste of major hormonal issues. When I PMSed I could cry at the drop of a hat. Of course crying is easy for me to do. I tend to cry often whenever I am touched by anything sweet that anyone does, I don't even have to know the person. Of course it is like a happy cry, you know, like when you watch a Hallmark commercial. I'm bad I can get all emotional about an Army commercial. When the son is talking to the mother about his plans to go into the military. I'm goofy like that. I don't really look at this as a bad thing, I just care about people and how they are to each other. Lets see...."The Mermaid Chair"....I don't usually read novels but I am making an attempt to enjoy them. It isn't that I don't like reading them, but instead that I get so much more out of reading books that I can learn from, or take something from. Not that I can't take anything from a novel. There are lessons to be taught by them also. I have been trying to read these types of books more right before bedtime. Today I think I am going to start to make some of those cookies that we have been planning on making. The kids are excited about this, they really do enjoy it. Not sure what they like more, making or eating them. I went online and found a bunch of recipes for some hopefully delicious cookies. My mother-in-law makes some wonderful cookies, but hers I think are more about appearance than about taste. Of course I would never repeat that to anyone, I wouldn't hurt her feelings. Some are delicious, but others are too plain for my taste. I guess I like to have things with a lot of flavor, that I probably why I enjoy spicy food so much, I gotta have that FLAVA. I was told to set a timer and do this for 10 or 15 minutes, but I'm a bad girl I didn't set the timer. I went to the store yesterday and bought some pj's for my mother for Christmas, this is what my nephew told me to get her. As I was leaving I stopped and purchased a scratch off lottery ticket. I actually won $60. I rarely play so I was surprised that I actually won. So I went to the desk to cash in the ticket and I played a easy pick for the Mega Millions, and took the $59 in cash. I'm not what you call a big gambler. I'll take my winnings and run. I guess this surprises me a bit, because my mom's side of the family are big gamblers. My mom doesn't go much, but when she does get the chance she is an addict. Oh, but she is big on the lottery. I've never really been the lucky type, anything I have ever won has been from my own work, not from luck. Not that I even enter many contests. I did win a couple when I was a child. I won a Woodsy the Owl coloring contest in 5th grade, and also a young authors contest. I wrote a book and was amazed when my book was chosen over all the other choices. The other books were about creatures from outer space, or cool stuff like that. Mine was about a little girl that hid from her brother when he was suppose to be babysitting her. In the end she appeared and apologized to him, "I'm sorry Peter." Ha, ha. I guess mine had a moral and was appealing to the adult readers.  As a kid I like theirs better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-2201241535811480248?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/2201241535811480248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=2201241535811480248' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2201241535811480248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/2201241535811480248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/this-is-test.html' title='This is a test'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-3377758641698298129</id><published>2006-12-12T13:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T13:52:15.579-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This I am thankful for...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RX70IEmEBUI/AAAAAAAAAAU/uq-tTiUWaBs/s1600-h/Grateful+Christmas+journal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5007708255192089922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RX70IEmEBUI/AAAAAAAAAAU/uq-tTiUWaBs/s400/Grateful+Christmas+journal.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last year I joined an online scrapbook class that created a keepsake journal for the 2005 Christmas season.  This is one of the pages that I created.  Maybe this season I'll go through some of the prompts and see how things have or have not changed for me.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For today I want to talk about the things that I am grateful for THIS holiday season.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.  This has been somewhat of a difficult year for my family.  My grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, and they told us she had a week to live.  That was about two months ago, and I am happy to say that they were wrong.  She isn't dying, and lets hope she has many more wonderful years ahead of her.  I am thankful to have another year with her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  My father was involved in a motorcycle accident a couple of weeks ago.  He wasn't wearing a helmet, and we are fortunate that his injuries were not life threatening.  Although he did get pretty banged up and has a broken pelvis.  Of course this doesn't stop him from being a handful.  I am thankful that I have been given the chance to realize that my father will always be the way he is, and he will never change is ways, at least not until he is ready.  Until then I have accepted that I need to stop being so stubborn and have that relationship with my father, before it is too late and I regret not having said the things that I want to with him.  Love your family, no matter how different their views are from yours, don't live with regrets.  This I am thankful for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  I have healthy children.  They are compassionate and care about others.  Let me brag here....they get this from me, and this I am thankful for.  Of course you couldn't tell this by they way they fight with each other, but deep down I know how much they love each other also.  My kids will not being spending Christmas with me this year, they will be with their father and his side of the family.  They have a big family and I am happy that they get the opportunity to share holiday traditions from his family as well.  They enjoy many of the Italian traditions that are a part of both our ancestry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.  I swear I have the best mom in the world.  She taught me the importance of family.  I am thankful that I will soon have the opportunity to spend the holidays down there with her in Florida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.  The time off from work to bake some yummy cookies to pass out to friends and family this year.  This isn't usually something that I do, but something that I do enjoy.&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/15422728-3377758641698298129?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/3377758641698298129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=3377758641698298129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/3377758641698298129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/3377758641698298129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/12/this-i-am-thankful-for.html' title='This I am thankful for...'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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/_9IKt4S2zFcg/RX70IEmEBUI/AAAAAAAAAAU/uq-tTiUWaBs/s72-c/Grateful+Christmas+journal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-116252100872815114</id><published>2006-11-02T21:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T21:30:08.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Homework</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/1600/jason_sleeping_002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/320/jason_sleeping_002.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is what happens when teachers give too much homework!  Haha, my son after working for hours on his homework fell asleep on the couch covered with his papers and pencil in hand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116252100872815114?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116252100872815114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116252100872815114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116252100872815114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116252100872815114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/11/homework.html' title='Homework'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-116250650218934886</id><published>2006-11-02T17:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T17:28:22.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No way, it's snowing already!</title><content type='html'>It's snowing outside today!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spoke with an ex-boyfriend the other day.  He told me that he remembered that I hated to be cold.  Which of course is true.  I can't stand being cold, but I told him that I wouldn't trade living here in Michigan to move down south.  He asked me why.  I said because as much as I hate the cold I would hate to give up experiencing the four seasons that we have here.  Christmas just isn't the same without snow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116250650218934886?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116250650218934886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116250650218934886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116250650218934886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116250650218934886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/11/no-way-its-snowing-already.html' title='No way, it&apos;s snowing already!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-116240539195896764</id><published>2006-11-01T13:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T13:23:12.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Soldiers' Angels</title><content type='html'>Last night I registered to adopt a soldier that is currently in Iraq.  Her name is Marica, and I wrote my first letter to her this morning.  When I agreed to adopt I said that I would do my best to write at least one letter a week, and send at least one carepackage per month.  I don't think that is asking too much.  Especially since I am a veteran myself, that was deployed during Desert Storm.  I totally understand the importance of receiving mail and support from everyone still home.  I received many letters and carepackages from people that I have never met, and it made me feel great.  Hopefully I can pass a little bit of that on to someone else.  If anyone else is interested they can also contact &lt;a href="http://www.soldiersangels.com/"&gt;Soldiers' Angels&lt;/a&gt;.  Especially with the holidays coming up, this will be an important time for us to show how special they are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116240539195896764?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116240539195896764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116240539195896764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116240539195896764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116240539195896764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/11/soldiers-angels.html' title='Soldiers&apos; Angels'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-116222291341419514</id><published>2006-10-30T10:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T10:41:53.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta love grandma!</title><content type='html'>Update:  My grandmother asked my parents if we made it home from Florida the other day.  This is good, that means that even with all the drugs she really did realize that we were there for her.  That was important to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also my dad asked her if he could bring in her hairdresser to do her hair, thinking that maybe it would make her feel better (grandma always has her hair &amp; nails done).  She looked at him and said, "No I don't want my hair done, shut up Bobby!"  This was a good thing also, you have to know my grandmother to appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also my grandmother loves her sweets, so every day they have been bringing in a sundae for her to enjoy.  SWEET!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116222291341419514?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116222291341419514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116222291341419514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116222291341419514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116222291341419514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/gotta-love-grandma.html' title='Gotta love grandma!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-116221740983468642</id><published>2006-10-30T08:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T09:10:10.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aging</title><content type='html'>I have to admit that I am extremely pleased everytime someone is shocked when I tell them how old I am and they can't believe it.  The response is always "you look so young."  Usually it is when I tell them that I have a 14 year old daughter and they assume that I had my daughter in my early teens, when I actually had her a few months before my 24th birthday.  So yes I am proud to admit my age, because with age hopefully comes some wisdom, but without the physical signs of aging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only problem with this is that it makes think that one day I am going to wake up and look in the mirror to see the older woman that I am.  It will all catch up with me one day, I'm sure.  Until then I should accept the compliments as they come, but know the reality that my future has in store for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I am especially concerned since most of my family looks their age or older.  My father has aged considerably over the past several years (of course alcohol and cigarettes help the process).  I am amazed at how much he has aged.  It took him some time before he started to show the signs of aging, but then it seemed to just hit him like a ton of bricks.  Although as I had said before my grandmother has aged beautifully, hopefully I'll follow in her footsteps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post maybe makes me appear a bit obsessed about my appearance, but I really wouldn't say that.  I sound like a woman that spends her day in the mirror applying her makeup and fixing her hair to perfection, but I am far from that type.  I usually apply my makeup in the car, and I'm lucky to put it on once a day.  I do make exceptions when I go out on a date or maybe to a club, but trips to the library, bookstore, school etc. require little if any makeup at all.  My hair is wash &amp; go (with the exception of coloring) and my usual attire is a pair of jeans and a t-shirt/sweatshirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually only think about aging when someone brings it up to me, such as last night.  That is what prompted this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also read an article about women's views of growing older.  &lt;a href="http://beauty.about.com/cs/smartbeauty/a/defineaging.htm"&gt;This article&lt;/a&gt; states that women's ideas of aging gracefully are no longer defined by looks alone.  I can say that even though I am apprehensive about my appearance with aging, I feel that in many ways I am embracing the age process itself.   I often think about what life will be like in the years to come.  I am even somewhat excited about the experiences that I will be able to have when my children are older.  I look forward to being able to travel more, anywhere that I desire.  Experiencing whatever appeals to me without having to worry about the time I spend away from my children.  Being a single mom has kept me from doing things that I would like to do (don't get me wrong I DO NOT regret having my children).  I just have to try to keep a balance that will allow me to be there for myself and my children.  The last thing I want to do is make them feel that I have not been there for them.  They are my priority now, my turn will come later.  I'll be patient.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116221740983468642?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116221740983468642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116221740983468642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116221740983468642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116221740983468642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/aging_30.html' title='Aging'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-116214640667180384</id><published>2006-10-29T12:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T13:26:47.253-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A small view into different cultures</title><content type='html'>Have I mentioned that I have a really cool Anthropology class?  It is Anthropology:  Urban Life &amp; Culture.  We get to experience different cultures and lifestyles in and around the Detroit area.  Nearly all of our classes take place outside of the classroom, and instead are done as field work.  My professor has been teaching this class since 1970, and let me tell you he is quite the character.  I can really appreciate this class because I get to experience the practices of many different cultures that I probably never may have experienced otherwise.  Such as today, I am going to view/experience a ceremony/feast at a Hindu Temple.  I think I'll find this very interesting, although they are vegetarians and I am not, so I am not sure how the feast will go for me.   Also within the next three days I have the opportunity to chose one of those days to attend The Days of the Dead Folks in MexicanTown East &amp; West.  This should be interesting also, it is the mexican form of our Memorial Day, although I think that there is much more to their holiday than to ours.  Typically ours consist of a parade, cemetary visits, and usually some sort of picnic or bar-b-que.  They take an interesting view of this holiday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116214640667180384?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116214640667180384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116214640667180384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116214640667180384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116214640667180384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/small-view-into-different-cultures.html' title='A small view into different cultures'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-116206290544589209</id><published>2006-10-28T14:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T15:29:00.333-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Military educational benefits shouldn't expire</title><content type='html'>I said that I wasn't going to let the little stuff get to me. Such as the other day before the beginning of one of my classes there was a discussion with fellow classmates about the Montgomery GI Bill. This was before my Economics class and I can't recall what actually brought the subject up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the conversation I stated that I didn't feel that there should be an expiration date on the GI Bill. As it is, or at least was, is that the GI Bill expired ten years after a soldier's last date of military service. Which for me expired in 2001. Then a guy in the back of the room made a remark that totally shocked me. He stated that "if you haven't used it in ten years then you probably would never use it." So he felt that if after the first ten years you didn't use it then chances are you probably never would. GRRRR! This really bothered me, so I blurted out, "you obviously have no experience with life." I think the guy in the seat behind me knew exactly how I would react because he smiled at me. First off the guy in the back is extremely annoying. He tries to take over the classroom every time, and he obviously has nothing else to do at work besides read the news, or surf the web, because he thinks he knows everything. So far the rest of us have bitten our tongues, but it is just getting to be too much. I paid to take a class and listen to my professor teach, not listen to him all day. If he wants to get into discussions with the professor about subjects other than economics he should maybe meet up with him for coffee and donuts one day, otherwise he needs to just shut up. YES I am venting here, I shouldn't have taken his comments personally, but I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, back to the subject at hand, the GI Bill. My point is that not everyone gets out of the military and decides to jump into college, especially fulltime. Life goes on, we get married, we have children, we get jobs. Not only that, some of us don't even realize the importance of an education until later in life. Maybe we have a job that pays well, but end up losing the job, then we have to consider other options. Wow, maybe going back to school is an option. Or maybe it is just as simple as the fact that we enjoy learning and what is wrong with being a lifetime learner? Maybe taking a few classes here and there is just something that we find appealing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that I did learn in my Economics class was that many parents here in Michigan have never really believed that you have to have a college education. Of course this is compared to other states. You see, many Michiganians have been employed by the Big Three, or their parents are/were employed and they did fine financially without an education. You didn't need an education to work in a factory. Well I can't say that in my particular case the automotive industry had an impact on my parents decision to encourage/or not encourage me to go to college. You see in my family I am the only one to attend college out of my parents generation/my generation. My father quit school in 12th grade to go to Viet Nam, while my mother did not finish because her mother died when she was young and she had to raise her siblings. My sister has a learning disability so she struggled in school and never completed high school. So the point I am making is that college was mentioned here and there as I was growing up, but this was rare. I don't remember being encouraged, or prepared for a college education. My decision to get an education was pretty much my own decision, and I didn't make this decision until after I did my four years of military service, marriage and the birth of my first child. These things put a halt to my dreams of an education, well maybe not a halt, but I did have to put them off for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am now, fifteen years after my last day in the military, and still working on my education. Do I feel that I should be eligible for those military benefits? Yes! What happens if I do end up laid off permanently from the automotive industry? Shouldn't I be able to use those benefits for help me out with getting another job? Yes! Should I not be allowed a tuition paid education because my life didn't follow an ideal path?  As much as we would like our lives to be perfect they never are, but that doesn't mean that we should give up, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it better for the economy to have a better educated work force. More educated individuals lead to more jobs being created, to improving our production possibilities, to having more money available to spend on products &amp;amp; services, to lowering our unemployment rate, which even leads to lower crime rates. Why wouldn't the government want to leave these educational options open. This I don't understand, so maybe if someone out there has an idea please clue me in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you that don't know, during the first year of the military we have the option to invest a certain portion into the G.I. Bill. The rest of the money is provided by the military. So what in fact happens is that if you don't use up the benefits within the ten year timeframe, you lose all the money that you invested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all of this is based on my experience with the G.I. Bill. It is possible that the bill has been modified since 2001 when mine expired. I'm hoping that it has changed. Actually I am a member of the VFW (Veterans of Foreign Wars) so I imagine that this is probably a topic that I could look into more deeply. Maybe I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116206290544589209?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116206290544589209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116206290544589209' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116206290544589209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116206290544589209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/military-educational-benefits-shouldnt.html' title='Military educational benefits shouldn&apos;t expire'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-116197536513634185</id><published>2006-10-27T14:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T14:56:06.063-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My serious side</title><content type='html'>I was just browsing through some of my old posts.  I have realized that my blog makes me appear much more serious than I am.  Well it isn't that I am not serious, I do have a serious side, but it seems that I don't express my other side very often.  I don't see much of my sense of humor when I read my blog.  I think my sense of humor is one of the best assests of my personality.  If you look closely at my pictures you'll see that I have "crow's feet" or what I prefer to call "laugh lines."  God gave me a smile, and I use it often.  I guess this blog is just a place for me to express my more serious thoughts, I'll leave the laughter for life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116197536513634185?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116197536513634185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116197536513634185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116197536513634185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116197536513634185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-serious-side.html' title='My serious side'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-116197332899668602</id><published>2006-10-27T14:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T14:22:09.220-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember those that are special to you</title><content type='html'>Last December I created a &lt;a href="http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2005/12/she-loved-it.html#links"&gt;heritage journal&lt;/a&gt; for a present for my paternal grandmother.  She is my only living grandparent, and nearly two weeks ago she was diagnosed with terminal cancer.  They estimated that she would live another week, especially since she had not eaten anything during the five days prior to her diagnosis.  So far she has made it nearly a week past the week they have given her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course the day that she was diagnosed both my sister and I gathered up our children and drove from Michigan to Florida to see her.  She has pancreatic cancer and she is on pain meds so I'm not even sure she realized that we were there.  I could only stay a week because I had to get my children back to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when my grandfather died ten years ago they had given him a week to live also.  My father called me on a Saturday, and I had to work that day so I said that I would work that shift, get the kids ready and drive up to see him the very next morning.  Well he ended up dying that night, so I never did get to see him.  So you see, I realize that doctor's don't have a crystal ball, and they can only guess as to how long a person actually has left.  Unfortunately in my case it was much short than expected, he died less than 12 hours after that phone call.  So that is why I didn't waste any time going to see my grandmother.  I didn't want to be too late again.  Then of course all the regrets I have for not being able to spend more time with her crept up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I wanted to write this because if there is anyone out there that has been putting off seeing someone that they love that is getting older, please don't continue to put it off.  Call them, pay them a visit, don't be afraid to let them know how you feel before it is too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must have known something because last Christmas I took my children to Florida to see her, and I created that book for her.  She cried when she received it.  I think it really meant a lot to her.  I'm glad that I didn't put it off, I'm glad I took the time to make something special for someone special in my life.  I couldn't have asked for a better grandmother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116197332899668602?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116197332899668602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116197332899668602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116197332899668602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116197332899668602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/remember-those-that-are-special-to-you.html' title='Remember those that are special to you'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-116197153173659307</id><published>2006-10-27T13:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T13:55:17.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nature's beauty</title><content type='html'>I had a beautiful experience this morning while I was taking my children to school. As we turned into the school parking lot we noticed that the field next to it was covered with what seemed to be hundreds of white seagulls. Actually we were on the road that travelled around the high school to the middle school that my children attend. While we drove along this short stretch of road the birds took off into flight. As these birds spread their wings and began to fly they surrounded the entire car. There were so many birds that it was as if we were wrapped within a white blanket that was being lifted into the air. For a moment it felt as if we were flying with along with them. Then they drifted apart and we continued along our short stretch of road to the school. It was small, but it just goes to show how much beauty there is in the world, all you have to do it look.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116197153173659307?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116197153173659307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116197153173659307' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116197153173659307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116197153173659307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/natures-beauty.html' title='Nature&apos;s beauty'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-116188304522878425</id><published>2006-10-26T13:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T13:17:25.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life happens doesn't it?</title><content type='html'>I have so much on my mind lately that I want to discuss, but I just can't seem to find the right person to talk to.  I might just end up venting here, but right now I have to study for my Spanish test that I will have this weekend.  Unfortunately I have not even opened my book during the past few weeks.  Things have happened lately that have caused me to become preoccupied with things other than my studies.  Maybe I'll get the chance to open up a bit later, for now I need to get busy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116188304522878425?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116188304522878425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116188304522878425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116188304522878425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116188304522878425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/life-happens-doesnt-it.html' title='Life happens doesn&apos;t it?'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-116095076625982062</id><published>2006-10-15T18:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-15T18:19:26.286-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How to shut a woman up</title><content type='html'>In the late eighties I had a disagreement with my best friend at the time, James.  This was while I was still in the Army, and we were sitting in the messhall.  Whatever the disagreement was about doesn't really matter, which is good because I can't even remember what it was about.  What I remember was how quickly he managed to shut me up with just one simple sentence.  He looked me straight in the eyes with this dead serious look and said to me, "Comb your eyebrows."  I can only imagine the look on my face.  I was so shocked by this sentence that I could not utter another word, he left me of all people speechless.  Of course he was probably right, that was back in the day when I didn't know what a pair of tweezers were, let alone that a woman could have her eyebrows waxed.  I didn't learn these things growing up because my mother was the type to rarely wear makeup let alone remove any unwanted facial hair.  Then again if you remember anything about the eighties or Brooke Shields and her overgrown eyebrows it was probably the in thing.  Who knows, thank goodness I eventually learned to tame the wild beasts, and of course nowadays I can look back on it and laugh.  Now that I think about it I should probably tell him that, you know as men age they tend to have hair that gets out of control.  You know on their backs, out of their ears, and over their eyes you might find something that resembles two caterpillers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116095076625982062?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116095076625982062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116095076625982062' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116095076625982062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116095076625982062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/how-to-shut-woman-up.html' title='How to shut a woman up'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-116094811440502565</id><published>2006-10-15T17:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-15T17:39:16.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life &amp; the diet rollercoaster</title><content type='html'>Well I have another four weeks off of work. Since I have gained some weight over the past year with all the time off my plan is to start working on losing some...tomorrow! So tonight I am sitting here enjoying a bowl of Captain Crunch cereal before I have to limit myself tomorrow. I am feeling some motivation so maybe I'll do okay this time. One thing that has always motivated me while trying to lose weight is to get a daily dose of reading that includes healthy eating and exercise. I knew there was a reason I saved all of those fitness magazines. Wish me luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said in my last post I have been very busy lately, and I am still busy but I decided to take some time to relax tonight. Tomorrow is another day, and I can get some stuff done then, for now I need to relax and enjoy. I was supposed to go to a haunted house with my girlfriends this past Friday the 13th, but instead I opted to work 16 hours. I figured with the four weeks off I could use the overtime, anyways it was my last day of work. Oh in case you were wondering I work on an assemblyline so when I say I worked, I mean I worked. As a matter of fact a guy I know came over to tell me that I looked like shit. I said, "Thanks, just what I needed to hear." Then of course he tried to clean it up by saying "Well working 16 hours you're expected to look like shit, and anyways you know you are pretty as hell." Well I don't know that, but I was glad he cleaned it up. Although I had walked past the mirror when I went to the bathroom and I thought the exact same thing to myself. Of course at that moment in the bathroom I could have cared less. I was just hoping that I would have the energy to make it the rest of the evening. Well I wasn't so worried about making it to the end of the shift as I was about making the ride home afterwards. It takes me about an hour to get home, and I didn't get off until eleven. Maybe this doesn't sound too bad, but my usual bedtime is around nine o'clock. Obviously I made it home and I am fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets see....what else is new. I bought tickets last night to take my daughter and her friend to see Panic at the Disco in concert. She is a good girl, and it is her favorite band, so I decided to go ahead and take her. It will be her first concert, unless you count the Trans Siberian Orchestra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH, how could I forget....HOW ABOUT THOSE TIGERS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations for making it to the World Series! GO TIGERS!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116094811440502565?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116094811440502565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116094811440502565' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116094811440502565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116094811440502565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/life-diet-rollercoaster.html' title='Life &amp; the diet rollercoaster'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-116059939653504233</id><published>2006-10-11T16:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T16:43:16.583-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Life has been extremely busy the past two weeks.  Tomorrow will finally be a day that I can catch up on housework and get some rest.  I did a ton of things this weekend.  Friday night I went to see The Texas Chainsaw Massacre at the latenight movies.  Unless you just love gore I wouldn't recommend this movie.  I went to go see it with my girlfriends, we were building up for this weekend when we are suppose to go to a haunted house.  This haunted house supposedly pays $250 to anyone that can make it all the way through.  Although the closer it gets the more I am considering backing out.  Not that I am chicken or anything, just that I am so exhausted from everything that I have been doing the past week.  It isn't near my house either, it is at least an hour away.  I guess I'll see how I feel this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I went to the 99.5 WYCD Birthday Bash at DTE this past weekend.  The headliners were Dwight Yokam and Clint Black, also performing were Gary Nichols and The Bombshells.  They also had at least three other local bands performing, sorry I can't mention them because I can't remember their names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night I went back for my country line dance lessons.  I actually think that I might have a couple down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Monday and tonight are class nights.  I thought I was going to have a free night last night, but my daughter is in pep band and there was a game last night.  I really need entire day off because my laundry is growing.  Unfortunately I won't have that tomorrow because I do have to work, but I'll have tomorrow evening to catch up on things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after this week I'll be off of work for probably another four weeks.  I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to get stuff accomplished then.  I think I can hang in there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-116059939653504233?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/116059939653504233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=116059939653504233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116059939653504233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/116059939653504233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/life-has-been-extremely-busy-past-two.html' title=''/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-115975646052685322</id><published>2006-10-01T21:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T22:41:33.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hootie Hoot!</title><content type='html'>Hootie Hoot! I actually made it to the country line dance lessons, and I must say that I sucked. Of course that doesn't stop me from making another attempt next week. When I told my daughter that I was going to go she asked me who I was going with. I told her that I was going alone. She said "Boy you're brave to go alone and not know anyone." She should know by now that I have done many things alone. I have been single for a long time. I go to the movies, out to dinner and just about anything else alone. If I didn't I would probably never get out. Not that I don't have the opportunity to go with others, but sometimes it is just easier this way. Anyways, it was a good time, and I am going again next week. The good thing about taking classes like this is that you're not alone there are always others there in the same situation as you.  It makes it easier to strike up a conversation with others, not that I have any trouble with starting up a conversation with anyone.  I've been blessed with the gift of gab. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished talking with my neighbor and she is going to go with me next week.  I think she needs to get out.  She is recently divorced and has four children, she needs some fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all I need to do is buy me some shit kickers. It is kind of hard to dance in tennis shoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-115975646052685322?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/115975646052685322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=115975646052685322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115975646052685322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115975646052685322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/hootie-hoot.html' title='Hootie Hoot!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-115973932659453981</id><published>2006-10-01T17:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T22:42:50.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life ain't too bad is it?</title><content type='html'>What's happening with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I've known this for some time now, but it is time to stop putting it off. I must stop sitting around so much, I am putting on the pounds. I have had more time off in the past two years than I need. This work a couple of weeks, have a couple off is really getting to me. As much as it sounds great to have the time off, when you are use to having your life a certain way it actually sounds better than it is. I mean first off, I usually am much happier when I have a busy schedule. There isn't enough time to worry about things that might be bothersome. Well unfortunately lately I have had more than enough time to think about things that bother me. Gaining weight is on the top of my list right now. I know it is my own fault, nobody but the extra pounds on me but myself. I considered joining a gym, but I quickly expelled that thought out of my mind. The last time I did that I paid like $300 for the initial fee, then something like $69 per month. It was a really nice gym, and it would have been worth it if I were the type to go there faithfully. Of course that would take too much of my time away from home, I already spend enough when I do work and with school. The original plan was for me to go before work since it is open 24 hours a day, but there was no way that I was going to crawl out of bed to exercise without a drill sergeant standing over me. I gave all of that up after basic training. Although joining the military was one way to motivate me into physical activity. Well since I don't see me enlisting in the military, nor do I expect Oprah to offer me her personal trainer free of charge, so it looks as if I am on my own. I guess my Billy Blanks Tae Bo tapes are going to have to be a start for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Classes are going well, but I have been struggling a bit with my Spanish. I'm still getting good grades, it is just that when the professor asks me something in Spanish I give him a puzzled look as if I am wondering what the hell he just asked me. Which I probably am, acutally I don't think the problem is me understanding him, it is I've been too slow to figure out a correct response. I think because I am getting good test scores he thinks that I know what I am doing, but he has no clue does he? My other problem is that when he gives dictation I can't quite catch all of the words that he is saying. Maybe it is because his native tongue is Spanish, so with his accent and with him speaking so quickly it blows right over my head. I'm working on it though. Hell sometimes I have enough trouble speaking English. My ex-husband use to make fun of me because I always called Elvis, Alvis. I know that he is Elvis, but I still insist on calling him Alvis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. A favorite past time of mine was country dancing. This of course was years ago, like nearly 20 years ago. I was stationed in the south (Louisiana, Texas) for about 7 years. I learned how to line dance, two-step, polka, waltz while I was down there. Of course now the only thing that I can do is stand along the dance floor and watch everyone else. I think part of is has to do with the part of the country I am in. In Michigan you pretty much have to be a professional to be on the floor, well at least that is how they make you feel. As a matter of fact, most of what they do is line dancing. I wonder if they even know how to two-step. I recently went to visit a friend in Oklahoma and pretty much everyone was out there dancing whether they could or not. I like that, and I miss it. Actually way back I was pretty good, of course things have changed so much that I am embarrassed to even get out there, except to do the Hustle, but who can't do the Hustle? So tonight I am going to take some line dance lessons at a local country bar. I've been wanting to do it for some time, so I think I'll start tonight. Well at least that is my plan at the moment, ask me tomorrow if I went or not. Maybe a couple of lessons and I'll be out there tearing up the dance floor myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Tomorrow I get to take a trip to downtown Detroit to Mexican Town with my Anthropology class (Urban culture &amp;amp; lifestyles). One of the many trips that I will be going on. Maybe I'll have one of my favorite drinks "Tequila Sunrise." This is a very cool class because our classes don't actually take place in a classroom setting, but instead in field environments. VERY COOL! Oh I should be finishing up my Liberal Arts/General Studies degrees next semester. Maybe, I might actually be one credit short, which means I will have to take one more class the following semester. Either way it will be soon, then I am off to complete my Psychology degree. I know, I know everyone says that there is no money is Psychology but I'm old enough to realize that it isn't all about money, it is about how happy I will be in the job I am in. My kids will be heading out the door, so I will only have myself to support. Since we all know that I am going to be single forever right? haha, sometimes it feels that way, but my dating issues are another subject and we don't have that much time to discuss it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow life really isn't too bad for me. It seems my biggest problem is the fact that I need to lose some weight. Not too bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-115973932659453981?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/115973932659453981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=115973932659453981' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115973932659453981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115973932659453981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/10/life-aint-too-bad-is-it.html' title='Life ain&apos;t too bad is it?'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-115947030891836178</id><published>2006-09-28T14:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T15:05:14.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When life hands you grapes, make wine</title><content type='html'>Sometimes rumors are better left unheard.  The other day my girlfriend told me a rumor about the future of my place of employment.  Of course we all know that rumors aren't reliable, and should be taken as such, but sometimes it is a little hard to not think about it especially when my future is at stake.  I wish she never would have told me.  I was having such a good week, I didn't want it to be spoiled by something that probably isn't even true.  Yes I am a worry wart, how can I not be.  If it was just me that I had to worry about it would be easier, but I have three children that rely on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what I have always been a survivor.  I have had good jobs before and whatever happens I am sure that I will find a way to make things work.  So go ahead, tell me to stop worrying about tomorrow and enjoy today.  It seems that things in my life have always happened for a reason.  I may not have known it at the time, and it may have been difficult, but it really does always seem to work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side my daughter will be turning fourteen tomorrow.  She is having a sleepover and I'm sure it will be fun.  It's hard to believe that my kids are growing up.  I think they are turning out to be pretty good kids, and I am pleased.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-115947030891836178?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/115947030891836178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=115947030891836178' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115947030891836178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115947030891836178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/09/when-life-hands-you-grapes-make-wine.html' title='When life hands you grapes, make wine'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-115869890399162942</id><published>2006-09-19T16:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T18:50:17.773-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OUCH!</title><content type='html'>Three years ago a purchased a pair of rollerblades that were on sale (a serious price reduction). After purchasing them I managed to put them away, and Sunday night I ran across them again. Actually they were hidden underneath my daughter's bed. Upon cleaning her room, she pulled them out. I thought "wow" let me give these a try, so I did. I put them on and went outside to see what I could do. My daughter insisted that the boys hold my hands to keep me from falling. Of course I spent about five minutes on the pavement before I lost my footing. Even with the help from my boys there was nothing that was going to keep me from falling. My daughter said that it looked just as if I had been shot. The way I fell backwards, stiff as a board, landing directly on my back. Luckily I was able to keep my head from hitting the concrete, but even with that I still managed to instantly get a headache. My daughter couldn't tell if I was crying or laughing, and I guess you could say that I did a combination of both. I was in pain, but at the same time I could only imagine how funny I looked. I refused to try to get up until the rollerblades were off of my feet, so my boys took them off for me as I laid in the middle of the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just say that today my back is still hurting. It feels as if I have a huge bruise on my back, but when you look at it nothing is there. Little did I know that I bought a really good pair of rollerblades. I should have started out with lower level, instead I bought a pair of ABEC 5's instead, which is like gliding on a sheet of ice. I don't see me attempting that again, at least not anytime soon, not until I get a pair of ABEC 1's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-115869890399162942?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/115869890399162942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=115869890399162942' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115869890399162942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115869890399162942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/09/ouch.html' title='OUCH!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-115790306394711516</id><published>2006-09-10T11:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T11:44:59.896-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kid free for a moment</title><content type='html'>I only have a few minutes to spend on this post since I have to leave shortly to get the kids. They spent this past weekend with their father. As much as I love my children and miss them, I must say that this was an enjoyable weekend without them. Not enjoyable in the sense that I went out and partied down, no, instead I had lunch with myself, hung out at Barnes &amp;amp; Noble, did some late night grocery shopping, and just relaxed. Sometimes one really needs to just kick back and take a day or so to just live a totally stress free life. With my hectic schedule this doesn't happen as often as I would like it to, but because of this rarity I believe it makes me appreciate it just that much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well my weekend is up, time to go get the crumb snatchers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-115790306394711516?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/115790306394711516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=115790306394711516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115790306394711516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115790306394711516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/09/kid-free-for-moment.html' title='Kid free for a moment'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-115679916728759156</id><published>2006-08-28T16:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T17:06:08.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Sister</title><content type='html'>I have an awesome daughter, but she insists on being a major pain in the butt to both of my sons.  I received a phone call today while I was at work.  One of my sons was angry with my daughter because as they were sleeping she managed to paint their nails and spray perfume on them.  One can only imagine how angry this made them upon waking up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This of course is not the first prank she has played on them while they have been asleep.  Last time she put makeup on them.  I think she should beware, two against one, I think she might be asking for trouble.  I might have to help them out with a little payback. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey Prankster, I know you're reading this blog.  I suggest you start sleeping with one eye open at all times.  See you in your dreams!  hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-115679916728759156?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/115679916728759156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=115679916728759156' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115679916728759156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115679916728759156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/08/big-sister.html' title='Big Sister'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-115669014627141715</id><published>2006-08-27T10:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T10:49:06.296-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quality time</title><content type='html'>I woke up one of my sons this morning to go to the grocery store with me.  With having three kids, creating a little bit of alone time with each one of them is crucial, even if it is just a trip to the grocery store.  This is when they really open up, and when I can really listen to them without the others interrupting.  To me this is really what quality time is, it doesn't necessary mean taking a trip to the movies, or video arcade or mall.  These things are just fun, but are they really quality when they are too preoccupied with what is going on rather than just sharing and listening to each other.  Don't get me wrong, I like to make time for fun too, just remember not to forget about what really is quality time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-115669014627141715?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/115669014627141715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=115669014627141715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115669014627141715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115669014627141715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/08/quality-time.html' title='Quality time'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-115668623831229727</id><published>2006-08-27T09:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T09:48:23.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Use caution while eating a hotdog!!</title><content type='html'>This is from an email that was sent to me the other day, the author is unknown:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TO ALL THE KIDS WHO WERE BORN IN THE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1930's 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after that trauma, our baby cribs were covered with bright colored lead-based paints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.&lt;br /&gt;We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank soda pop with sugar in it, but we weren't overweight because.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 99 channels on cable, no video tape movies, no surround sound, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms..........WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no&lt;br /&gt;lawsuits from these accidents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays,&lt;br /&gt;made up games with sticks and tennis balls and although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just yelled for them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW TO&lt;br /&gt;DEAL WITH IT ALL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And YOU are one of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CONGRATULATIONS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated our lives for our own good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and while you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave their parents were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't it?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my take on this email:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off let me say that I may not agree with everything that it says, but it does make me think about the difference between how our children are being raised and how we were raised. It reminds me of some of my childhood memories. I know I seem to be on a kick about my childhood memories lately, oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as the government stepping in and regulating our lives. To some extent maybe we need it, but I also hate the idea of the government getting too much control, you know the saying "give them an inch they will take a mile."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We may think that being forced to wear a seatbelt is some violation of our rights, but would you think like that after it saved your life in a near fatal car accident? I think you would become thankful, I know I would. I know that before seatbelt usage was mandatory, I never used it. As a matter of fact afterwards I still didn't use it, it really wasn't until I had children that I started, because I did it for their safety and I felt that I needed to set the example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another example of this is riding in the back of pickups. Now this might look all fun and everything, but is it really a smart thing to do? Years ago I witnessed an incident where a man was tossed out of the back of a pickup truck, and somehow he managed to have himself caught by a rope or something so that he was being dragged behind the truck. Unfortunately for him the driver did not notice what had happened so he was dragging behind for several miles. He was brought into surgery because his buttocks had been worn down by road. Can you imagine? The road was like sandpaper grinding off layer after layer of flesh and muscle. I know it's gross to think about, but very serious. I bet that guy would have wished that he had never jumped in the back of that pickup truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now about helmets, I don't make my children wear them with their peddle bikes, but I truly believe that it is a must when riding a motorcycle. I know there are many motorcyclists out there that have been fighting to get this law lifted here in Michigan, but I just can't agree with them. I've also witnessed motorcycle accidents where they riders were lucky to be alive, and they were wearing helmets, I can only imagine what the outcome would have been like if they had not been wearing one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that some might argue that we don't need that much control that we could die choking on a hotdog, and does that mean we should stop eating hotdogs? No, I personally like hotdogs, so I won't stop eating them, but I can make sure that I use caution when I do eat them (hint, hint, don't inhale them, the key word is EAT them). Also, I think that I can still live a happy life without jumping in the back of a pickup for a ride.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-115668623831229727?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/115668623831229727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=115668623831229727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115668623831229727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115668623831229727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/08/use-caution-while-eating-hotdog.html' title='Use caution while eating a hotdog!!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-115664103962543853</id><published>2006-08-26T20:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T09:53:43.303-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, his mother wrote his love note</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/1600/Rhonda%20Kindergarten%20pic.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/200/Rhonda%20Kindergarten%20pic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we have a picture of "Little Rhonda" or should I say "Little Bobbie" since I look so much like my father. I actually remember the day that this picture was taken. I was in kindergarten. I remember walking home from school with my sister. What sticks in my mind so well about this particular day was that for some strange reason I insisted on wearing my mom's pantyhose, and she actually let me. Of course with me being only six years old at the time, those pantyhose kept falling down on me. All the way home I kept having to stop and pull them up. My sister refused to wait for me, and walked the rest of the way home by herself, leaving me behind. Of course when she reached the house without me mom was just a little bit upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it amazing how more than thirty years later I can still remember that dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another memory that I have of myself from kindergarten was when another classmate, John, had his mother write me a love note. Of course being in kindergarten I guess they didn't think that I could read the letter yet so he gave it to the teacher to read it to me. HOW EMBARRASSING!! Then shortly after that my mother went to a parent teachers conference, and who do you think she saw there? You got it, the boy's mother. Of course when she found out who my mother was she couldn't wait to tell her the story. AGAIN HOW EMBARRASSING!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-115664103962543853?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/115664103962543853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=115664103962543853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115664103962543853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115664103962543853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/08/yes-his-mother-wrote-his-love-note.html' title='Yes, his mother wrote his love note'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-115662828157977355</id><published>2006-08-26T16:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-26T17:38:01.740-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How to make a taco costume</title><content type='html'>It has been quite some time since I last posted on this blog.  For some strange reason my daughter wants me to start up again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her, "Why, do you want me to tell everyone how my dryer broke last night?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, you can write funny conversations that we have."  She obviously thinks I have a great sense of humor, which I do, but I can't always express it when I write.  When funny things happen to me, they are never as funny in my writings as they are in person.  To be honest I think she is more and more like me the older she gets.  She just sat down next to me on our other computer and did a search for "how to make a taco costume."  There IS actually a site for this; it seems that you can find out how to do just about anything on the net.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am back to blogging at least for now.  How often I'll be able to write is another question.  I'm trying to push myself and take three classes this term, along with working full-time and raising my three kids alone.  Fortunately for me they are getting older, so I don't have to be there to provide them constant attention.  When I considered taking on one more class than usual this term I approached my kids to see how they felt about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my sons, Jason, responded, "Mom, you're the adult, you make the decisions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know, but this is a decision that affects the entire family, so I need your input.  If I take on more classes that means that I'll be here less for you guys."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They agreed that more classes would be a good idea and that I should go for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what else is new with me?  Oh, I went to my girlfriend's wedding this past weekend and caught the bouquet.  It was actually pretty funny, but too bad I'm not searching for a boyfriend right now.  I think my plate is already a bit full to make time for anyone else at least until the end of the year.  Maybe I'll tell the story about catching the bouquet another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that will add to my list of things to do is that next month when my daughter turns fourteen she wants to start volunteering at the local hospital.  We considered the University of Michigan hospital, but to volunteer there you have to be sixteen years of age.  I think it will be good for her, the boys want to also, but of course they are still too young.  There are a lot of different duties that she can volunteer to do, but she probably won't know or decide until she goes in for her interview.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-115662828157977355?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/115662828157977355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=115662828157977355' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115662828157977355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/115662828157977355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/08/how-to-make-taco-costume.html' title='How to make a taco costume'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-114116597919894982</id><published>2006-02-28T17:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T17:32:59.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Preoccupation</title><content type='html'>I know I have taken a break from blogging lately.  I'm not sure exactly why.  I think possibly because I decided to take a Speech &amp; English class this term, and with all the writing I have to do for these classes I just can't seem to get into writing on this blog.  Plus I am back to work so that has me a bit preoccupied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-114116597919894982?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/114116597919894982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=114116597919894982' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/114116597919894982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/114116597919894982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/preoccupation.html' title='Preoccupation'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-114099281336917661</id><published>2006-02-26T17:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-26T17:49:20.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids!</title><content type='html'>I picked my children up today from their visit with their father.  They were there for a week.  As soon as I picked them up I took them out to eat for lunch.  We went into the restaurant, which was a buffet.  I figured I was safe with this, they could get whatever they wanted without an argument.  We went up to the buffet and came back to the table with our food.  My son Jason asked me if I wanted his fish.  I said, "No," then he said, "I thought it was this really delicious looking piece of chicken, but it ended up being this really nasty piece of fish."  I couldn't help but laugh.  I remember a few years ago they called everything chicken.  If I cooked roast, they would always ask if they could have some more chicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a few minutes ago my daughter wanted to get the remote control that belongs to the t.v. in the livingroom.   She somehow managed to misplace hers for her bedroom.  I asked her, "What, do you expect me to keep getting up to change the channel instead of you?"  She just started laughing and said, "yes, you watch the same channel ALL DAY LONG, it just makes sense."  Now I couldn't help but laugh, she had a point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-114099281336917661?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/114099281336917661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=114099281336917661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/114099281336917661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/114099281336917661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/kids.html' title='Kids!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-114030554841371274</id><published>2006-02-18T18:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T07:16:28.557-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quality service is hard to find, but it is out there!</title><content type='html'>I hate having my order messed up, but having the problem corrected in a professional manner just wins me over every time.  I can forgive the biggest screw up as long as they know how to handle a customer complaint.  Have you ever had something go wrong and you have approached a business with a complaint and the response was not what you expected?  I have, and I am one that will certainly stop being a patron if I am treated poorly.  I can be extremely stubborn.  I will drive ten miles out of my way just to avoid giving them any more of my money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First instance of great customer service today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ordered a pizza today from a local Jet's Pizzeria.  I am alone this weekend and figured I would just munch on it so I wouldn't have to cook or go out.  I picked up the pizza and drove home with it.  I soon realized that the pizza was not completely cooked.  Nothing like eating uncooked dough for a pizza.  So I called them up and explained the situation to them.  The girl was very pleasant and offered to give me another one if I returned the original one.  Of course, I had absolutely no problem returning it.  It wasn't like I was going to eat it.  I explained to her that I had picked it up and that I did not have any intentions of leaving the house again today.  I asked her if I could have it delivered, but explained that I did not expect to pay a delivery charge.  She put me on hold for a minute, when she returned she agreed to not charge me delivery charges.  She did explain that it would take approximately 1 1/2 hours to get the pizza, that was a bit long, but I really didn't mind.  To me this is an example of good customer service.  The girl on the phone was polite, met my needs, I was very happy.  I can't always say this is the case, and let me tell you I can be a pain in the A** when things don't go my way.  I always do give the business the opportunity to correct the mistake before I go crazy.  There is a story somewhere on this blog, way back, that details another incident with a pizza parlor.  Where the elderly woman (owner) actually told me to pick the unwanted items off.  It is ten years latelr and I still can't believe she said that to me.  Let's just say, I will never go back there EVER!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next incident with great customer service today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to my local video store.  I have to write a contrast/comparison about the movies &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wyatt Earp &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tombstone&lt;/span&gt; for my English class.  The video store didn't care Wyatt Earp, but the did have Tombstone.  I took it up to the clerk, and had a quick conversation with him about my situation.  He took it upon himself to call another completely different store (outside of his chain) to check to see if they had the movie in.  I know that referrals are common in business, but I think this was well beyond what he needed to do.  Most employees that I come across would just say, "sorry we don't carry it."  I just thought this was awesome, and they certainly have gained my loyalty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much, but just my thoughts for the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-114030554841371274?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/114030554841371274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=114030554841371274' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/114030554841371274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/114030554841371274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/quality-service-is-hard-to-find-but-it.html' title='Quality service is hard to find, but it is out there!'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-113994861331908125</id><published>2006-02-14T14:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T15:23:33.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>National Parent Involvement Day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was national parent involvement day so I spent the day at my daughter's school.  I went to her school rather than the boys' school because I have not had the opportunity to do anything during school hours with her since she has been in middle school.  I went on a field trip with the boys and got to spend the day with the at school making Christmas decorations just before Christmas.  So yesterday was her day.  Pretty soon I will be back to work and will not have the opportunity to do anything like this with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First the parents met for coffee and donuts to discuss what we were about to do and to have our introduction to the principal.  Then we were off to the classrooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There really are not a lot of parent's that are involved with their children and school.  There were probably twelve of us for the entire middle school.  Kind of sad, although I do understand that many parents have to work during the day, such as myself usually.    Another thing though is that some students never even informed their parents of the event.  My daughter did inform me though, she walked right into the house and asked me if I was going to be working that day.  When I said no she said "good" and clue me in on what was planned.  Although it really wasn't that eventful, I am still glad I went.  It seemed as if I was the only parent there for seventh graders.  Most of the parents where there for the sixth graders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first class that I got to join her in was her science class.  There was a substitute teacher in this room.  I walked in right in the middle of a movie that they were watching about erosion.  Actually what I saw of it seem to be a fun video, much more interesting than the ones I had to watch when I was in school.  Then she spent the rest of the class working on an assignment taken from the movie and the chapter in their book.  So I didn't get to really see any real teaching in that class.  As a matter of fact the teacher barely said anything to them.  I was only in that class for about thirty minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we were off to a double band class.  This was not their typical class.  On this particular day they had someone visiting.  I never did catch his name, but he was helping them to prepare for an event that is coming up.  This band class was two hours long.  They were up on the stage so I didn't really have any contact with them, but I did get to watch them play and get their instruction.  Of course I don't know anything about music, so I couldn't really tell you how well they were doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After band class, we were off to lunch.  What a mess, man those kids go crazy for food.  My daughter got her food and was off to grab a spot at a table.  I was left to fight my way around all of these kids.  I thought about getting the pizza since that is a favorite among the children, but when I got a peek at it, I changed my mind and just stuck with the salad bar.  A wise choice.  When I walked out into the seating area, I could not find my daughter anywhere.  She blended in with this sea of children.  Eventually I caught a glimpse of her and sat down at the table with her.  I was introduced to her friends, who all seemed very nice.  After lunch I left and she continued on with her day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I didn't get to really see how they teach, I did get a glimpse into what her life is like every day at school.  She's a good girl, and she makes me happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113994861331908125?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113994861331908125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113994861331908125' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113994861331908125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113994861331908125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/national-parent-involvement-day.html' title='National Parent Involvement Day'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-113954455518847989</id><published>2006-02-09T23:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T23:09:15.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just two things to say today</title><content type='html'>Just two things to say today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I truly believe that I am the only one in my household that knows how to change the toilet paper roll. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I think I my English teacher loves chaos in the classroom.  I like him, but he is starting to frustrate me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113954455518847989?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113954455518847989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113954455518847989' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113954455518847989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113954455518847989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/just-two-things-to-say-today.html' title='Just two things to say today'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-113943032102883080</id><published>2006-02-08T15:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T15:26:15.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clean Sweep</title><content type='html'>Have you ever seen the show &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clean Sweep &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;on TLC?  I have been watching quite a bit of it lately with all of my spare time I have now.  This show has almost motivated me enough to tackle some of the junk that I have collected over the years.  Did you catch that key word?  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;almost.    &lt;/span&gt;Yeah, almost but I'm not nearly there yet.  Maybe if I watch a few more episodes this week I'll give it a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clean Sweep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; this weekend.  YEAH RIGHT.  I'll get back to you with this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note:  I accidently posted this to 365 Dreams instead of this blog.  I was wondering why when I posted it there and viewed the blog I saw a city street.  Of course maybe I could consider this post a dream, because it probably isn't a reality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113943032102883080?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113943032102883080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113943032102883080' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113943032102883080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113943032102883080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/clean-sweep.html' title='Clean Sweep'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-113934737840047878</id><published>2006-02-07T16:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T16:22:58.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My daughter thinks I am crazy</title><content type='html'>My daughter and I are sitting here in the livingroom.  I am watching some commercials that just came on the television and my daughter is on the computer.  Her back is actually facing the t.v.  A commercial came on I can't remember exactly what it was about, just that whatever it was made me kind of cry.  Yes I am extremely emotional.  I can cry at a Hallmark commercials, although I do know that this was not one of those.  Actually it isn't really a cry, but sort of a cry/laugh at the same time.  I know it's weird.  Anyways, I was a little delayed with my crying of sorts, so the next commercial came on when I started.  My daughter heard me crying/laughing and turned around to look at the t.v. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"MOM, it's a Clorox commericial!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never did tell her that it wasn't because of the Clorox commercial.  Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113934737840047878?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113934737840047878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113934737840047878' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113934737840047878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113934737840047878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-daughter-thinks-i-am-crazy.html' title='My daughter thinks I am crazy'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-113934595497390655</id><published>2006-02-07T13:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T23:12:28.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The events of my uneventful day</title><content type='html'>I know that is a contradiction, but it is what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the kids got off to school I decided to lie back down for a bit.  My sleep was interrupted by the telephone ringing.  It was my daughter on the phone asking me to bring her lunch that she had forgotten.  I asked her what time she needed it by before hanging up the phone.  Twelve o'clock, that gave me some time to get myself together before leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to surprise her, so instead of packing her a lunch I stopped at the Subway down the street and picked up her up a sub and some Sun Chips for lunch.  She loves Subway sandwiches.  I didn't get a chance to see her when I went to the school, but when she got home she told me that she was really surprised that she didn't expect it.  Nothing big, but I know my kids enjoy those little things once in a while that make them feel special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What special thing has someone done to you, that seemed so small but meant so much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once had a guy that drove almost 1 1/2 hours (one way) to bring me lunch at work.  He drove all that way and only got to spend about twenty minutes with me.  Along with my lunch he brought me some roses.  This was a very sweet jesture.  Things didn't work out with us, but what an impression he made that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my day....(you know I can easily lose my train of thought)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started dinner for the kids.  I threw a whole chicken in the oven, with some potatoes, all that my nephew had to do was take it out, and add some vegetables.  Of course with my kids that means green beans.  They absolutely love green beans and can eat them probably seven days a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that done I was off to school.  I am usually the first person in the classroom.  I am so good about being where I should be on time, actually I tend to be there early.  This is one reason why I like to keep some reading material with me at all times, so that I can always have something to occupy my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was my speech class.  I'll talk about my fears of public speaking at a later time, but for now I'll share with you a discussion I had with two girls in my class.  Actually they are a set of fraternal twins.  We were broken up into groups of four to come up with a solution to a specific secenario that actually happened to another girl in our room.  As we were just getting introduced to our groups and settling in one of the girls said, "Do you know who you look like?"  So I responded with, "don't tell me Laura Ingalls."I hear this all the time, well at least I use to before I was a blonde.  When I do bring it up though everyone always say, "OMG, you do look like her!"   You can obviously see the age gap between me and these girls, because they had absolutely no idea who I was talking about.  It ended up being that no they were not saying that I looked like Laura Ingalls, but instead some character out of a comic strip.  Now I'm curious, because they could not remember what the character's name was, just that I looked like it.  As a matter of fact, they insisted that it was a good thing, that I looked so much like it that it was as if the artist had created a character specifically for me.  I always hated to be compared to Laura Ingalls, but I'm not sure that I like the idea of being compared to a cartoon character either.  I'm not sure which one I like better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I am heading home after class I realize that I have not had dinner, so I decided to stop at McDonalds and grab me something quick to eat.  As I pulled up to the speaker I was informed that their computers  were down for drive-thru and that I was welcome to come inside and order.  NO THANK YOU.  It was cold as heck last night, I was not about to take myself out of the car if I didn't have to.  I pulled right out of the drive and into Taco Bell's parking lot.  I order my food and as I was pulling up to the window I found myself doing another one of my bad habits.  Calculating the change in my head before I get to the window.  This is a habit I picked up while working at a fast food restaurant some years ago.  When I use to work the drive-thru window I was obsessed with calculating the customers change in my head before entering it into the register.  Obviously I am still obsessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After arriving home....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jumped on the computer.  Shortly after I realized that Blogger was down AGAIN.  Geez, this thing seems to be down more than my satellite t.v.  I don't know which one makes me crazier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off to bed I went.  There are the events of my uneventful day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113934595497390655?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113934595497390655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113934595497390655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113934595497390655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113934595497390655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/events-of-my-uneventful-day.html' title='The events of my uneventful day'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-113916731633827097</id><published>2006-02-05T14:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-05T14:22:31.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Now this is a movie I would watch over and over</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/1600/City%20of%20Angels.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/320/City%20of%20Angels.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Speaking of Nicholas Cage movies, at the moment I am sitting here watching one of his movies that I have not seen in several years. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;City of Angels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, what an awesome movie this is.  This is one of his movies that I really did enjoy.  Of course I am a woman and a sucker for love stories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113916731633827097?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113916731633827097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113916731633827097' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113916731633827097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113916731633827097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/now-this-is-movie-i-would-watch-over.html' title='Now this is a movie I would watch over and over'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-113909196838088627</id><published>2006-02-04T16:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-04T17:26:08.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been tagged again</title><content type='html'>Maria has tagged me again.  This looks kind of fun, so I'll give it a try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;What were you doing 10 years ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1.  Giving birth to my twins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, this is the only thing I can really remember about 10 years ago.  I should have been journaling back then, if I had I would probably be able to answer this one right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;5 snacks that you enjoy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1.  chocolate cake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  cheesecake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  cucumbers &amp; ranch dip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  nachos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;5 bad habits?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1.  hanging out on this computer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  calling everyone "hey"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  allowing junk to pile up on my desk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  forgetting to charge my cell phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  throwing change in the bottom of my purse, when I know that I have a change purse for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;5 songs that you know all the lyrics?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1.  ZERO of them, I make up all the lyrics, I might know the chorus of some, but I can't think of any song that I know all the lyrics&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;5 things you would do if you were a millionaire?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1.  buy a new house for me &amp; my sister&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  quit my job and go to school full time and volunteer to help others&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  donate to others less fortunate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  send my kids to any college that they choose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  travel the world with my children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;5 things you like doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1.  blogging&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  scrapbooking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  laughing with my kids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  going to school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  taking pictures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;5 favorite toys?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1.  computer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  digital camera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I might have to come back to this one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;5 things you would never wear, buy or get again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1.  Crest Citrus Breeze toothpaste&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  bikini&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  the movie "Lord of War"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  training bras (well I hope I'll never have the need for these again)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Rootbeer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;5 people I am tagging (yes again, the only people I blog with)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1.  rgmb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  zataod&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  BW&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Donna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113909196838088627?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113909196838088627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113909196838088627' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113909196838088627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113909196838088627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/ive-been-tagged-again.html' title='I&apos;ve been tagged again'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-113908897643094600</id><published>2006-02-04T16:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-04T16:40:36.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Disappointing trips to the video store</title><content type='html'>Does anyone have a video membership at Blockbuster Videos?  I do, and I must say that I am very disappointed.  Ever since they started that deal about no late fees I have stopped patronizing their stores.  I find it extremely irritating to drive all the way to the video store with intentions of renting a good movie to enjoy over the weekend, only to find that all the new releases are completely sold out.  They have fifty millions copies (okay maybe an exaggeration) of one movie, but when I show up the shelves are completely bare.  It's like Old Mother Hubbard at the video store.  In my opinion the guy that came up with this idea is an idiot.  No late fees, WOW, that's a great idea now nobody has to return them.  Since nobody returns them, nobody can rent them.  Since nobody can rent them, they leave the store disappointed and never return.  Don't get me wrong, I am not that easy to run off.  They did not lose my business because of one incident, this happened over and over and over.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did switch to another video store.  Last night I went there with the kids to rent some videos for our viewing pleasure this weekend.  I walked in and had a flashback of my experience at Blockbuster.  Nearly all the new releases were gone, the only thing left on the shelves were the plastic holders for the displays (the jacket covers) and dust.  Disappointed again.  So I browse through the shelves anyways, just to make sure I didn't miss anything.  I walked all the way through A-Z, then back again.  There just happened to be about 25 copies of one movie, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lord of War&lt;/span&gt;, with Nicolas Cage.  So I picked it up along with the other two older movies that the kids decided to get and proceeded to the checkout.  I had not seen the previews for this movie, so I was hoping it would be good.  I have seen some other Nicolas Cage movies and found them to be interesting so I thought what the heck why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh let me also mention how disappointed I was that the last time I had decided to have a video viewing weekend I returned them late.  Of course I didn't know this when I dropped them off, I guess if I paid closer attention I would have known.  So my three movies ended up costing me $29 total.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally we piled into the car and off we went.  After getting home I let the kids watch their movie first, afterwards we put in my movie.  In my opinion this movie sucked right from the beginning.  I can't say that I gave it my total attention, I didn't even finish watching it.  I just turned it off and went to bed.   I guess I should have taken the hint.  Walk into video and see all the movies gone except a shelf full of one certain movie, don't you think there is a reason nobody else picked it up?  Duh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit the next day thinking about how I wasted my $29, and sharing those thoughts with you.  I can still say though that I would rather have movies available when I want them, than to get out of paying the late fees.  I can only hold myself responsible for the late fees.  If I returned them on time I would have movies when I want them and not have to pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I expect video stores to be like the Burger King slogan "Your way, right away."  I want it "My way, right away."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113908897643094600?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113908897643094600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113908897643094600' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113908897643094600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113908897643094600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/disappointing-trips-to-video-store.html' title='Disappointing trips to the video store'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-113908676130028954</id><published>2006-02-04T15:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-04T15:59:21.356-05:00</updated><title type='text'>That's my name</title><content type='html'>Is it just me or am I the only person that answers every child that calls out "mom" while out in public?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113908676130028954?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113908676130028954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113908676130028954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113908676130028954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113908676130028954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/thats-my-name.html' title='That&apos;s my name'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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-15422728.post-113906510430174722</id><published>2006-02-04T09:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-04T10:29:52.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Old time circle journals</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/1600/circle%20journal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/320/circle%20journal.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While searching one of the links in a post from &lt;a href="http://mindkibble.blogspot.com/"&gt;rgmb&lt;/a&gt; I ran across a little something that I found interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the scrapbooking world there has become an interest in creating decorative circle journals.  While browsing rgmb's link I came across one on that site from the early 1900's that I found very interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look &lt;a href="http://digitalgallery.nypl.org/nypldigital/explore/dgexplore.cfm?topic=arts&amp;collection=LibriAmicorumFriends&amp;amp;col_id=170"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://digitalgallery.nypl.org/nypldigital/dgkeysearchresult.cfm?s=3&amp;sType=Rel&amp;amp;r=11f295161&amp;rSource=Anne%2520Wagner%2520album%252C%25201795%252D1834%252E&amp;amp;rDiv=Carl%2520H%252E%2520Pforzheimer%2520Collection%2520of%2520Shelle...&amp;rOper=2&amp;amp;submit.x=11&amp;amp;submit.y=11"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the idea of someone finding my journals interesting a hundred years from now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113906510430174722?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113906510430174722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113906510430174722' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113906510430174722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113906510430174722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/old-time-circle-journals.html' title='Old time circle journals'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-113891061936155379</id><published>2006-02-02T14:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T15:05:17.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You said WHAT????</title><content type='html'>Have your kids or their friends ever say something where you had absolutely no idea what it meant.  Do you want to take figure out what these ebonics mean?  I stumbled across an &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/"&gt;urban dictionary&lt;/a&gt; today.  Trust me some of these can be distrubing to read, but hey if you want to understand what the kids are picking up from their friends, this is the place to go.  Luckily my children still speak in English, there are just a few words that I have heard them say that had me lost.  Although they have all been harmless so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember a few years ago there was a thing going around the schools where kids were wearing these thin plastic bracelets.  Each different color represented a different sexual act that the child had supposedly performed.  As I understand it, if a guy were to come up and break the bracelet off of  her wrist then you had to perform that act with that guy (according to the color coding).  A parent would probably not think much about their child wearing these bracelets if they did not know their hidden meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me say that I better never catch my daughter wearing those bracelets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113891061936155379?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113891061936155379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113891061936155379' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113891061936155379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113891061936155379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/you-said-what.html' title='You said WHAT????'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15422728.post-113890611195810884</id><published>2006-02-02T13:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T13:48:31.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spirit of Detroit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/1600/200px-Spirit_of_detroit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/400/200px-Spirit_of_detroit.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/1600/spirit%20of%20detroit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/505/1428/400/spirit%20of%20detroit.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the monuments that has its place in Downtown Detroit is the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Spirit of Detroit&lt;/span&gt;.  This statue is decorated with a jersey from our local teams whenever we are in the playoffs.  He has worn jersies in honor of the Red Wings, Pistons and now the Superbowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This monument was dedicated in 1958 by the sculptor &lt;a href="http://info.detnews.com/history/story/index.cfm?id=159&amp;category=people"&gt;Marshall Fredricks&lt;/a&gt;.  In one hand the statue holds a sphere which represents God, while in the other hand he holds a family group that represents all human relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is actually one of my favorite statues in downtown.  It only seems fitting that he wears the jersey since he is THE SPIRIT OF DETROIT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15422728-113890611195810884?l=myingredients.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/feeds/113890611195810884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15422728&amp;postID=113890611195810884' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113890611195810884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15422728/posts/default/113890611195810884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myingredients.blogspot.com/2006/02/spirit-of-detroit.html' title='Spirit of Detroit'/><author><name>Rhonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11897172513581443229</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>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
