tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6633740860668465192024-03-04T22:28:20.809-08:00Flung Pooh. Feng Shui AutismMy life with autism. How I have added the colors of peace and joy, rearranged some days to make it through the tough spaces and brought in a soft Comforter. Tips for mamas and primary caregivers.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-47470413807388409052015-01-07T12:15:00.000-08:002015-01-07T12:15:03.407-08:00HELP IN AN UNLIKELY PLACE<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forty years ago I lived at the end of this tan ribbon of road. This photo makes me smile.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I tend to go the way of a rebel</span>. However, I do not like going against the laws of God, nor those of our government. I’ve done my homework. I hope this info helps shed light on a subject that is somewhat controversial and yet, here we are, on the overuse side because of freewill and a fearful side because of the lack of clinical studies.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the past</span> I considered the herb, Marijuana taboo. It’s how I was brought up. To some who miss-use perhaps it should be carefully considered, but for those with cancer and my son who suffers with seizures and behavioral issues, I have sought enlightenment. I have come to understand that in our situation, it is a godsend.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We first heard of Charlottes Web</span>, a low tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) strain of cannabis named after a seven-year-old girl, Charlotte Fiji, through a TED talk (<a href="http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=stanley+brothers+charlotte's+web&FORM=VIRE6#view=detail&mid=93269722207805E597F093269722207805E597F0">stanley brothers charlotte’s web</a>). The Stanley brothers in Colorado had helped young Charlotte, who, at the time was having nearly 300 seizures per week caused by Dravet Syndrome, through this specific strain of marijuana. The story was riveting. Eyes glued. Astounded at what held my eyes and the beautiful symphony that struck my eardrums called hope. To say the least, I was deeply touched and impacted. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In Oregon </span>we have access to medical marijuana if we have run through the governmental hoops. Thank you Ashland for making that process fairly easy. We walked out feeling, not guilty, instead, we’d been given the moon. I thought we’d have Charlottes Web in our hands in days and my son would begin to reap the benefits. I showed the “medical marijuana pharmacy (aka head shop)” Zach’s legal medical marijuana card. Told them I wanted a low THC, high CBD strain. They gave guidance as best they could. Cannabis for seizures is fairly new in the states. They didn’t know Charlottes Web. Yeah, they did sell me something. I was told it was low THC, high CBD. I handed them my green, they handed me their green. Where my children are concerned, I will charge the gates of hell. And I think I may have done just that. I closed the door behind me carrying my little white bag of…hope. I prayed it would work and that I would never have to go back there again. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Newbie’s</span> in the world of weed we were. Zach was not himself that next day. I was not impressed. I plunged the contents of that vial into the commode, pushed the handle down and there it went. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We happened upon a young man</span> that had heard of Zach’s story and was moved by compassion (we are not so naive that we don’t know money is also a good motivator also) to try and find something that might be close to what we were looking for. He has been very helpful in the hunt for organic high CBD low THC plants to help children with seizures. It’s tricky. I wish it weren’t. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately Zach still has seizures</span>. We need the Charlotte’s Web. However, the really nice news is that this strain makes Zach happier and more stable emotionally. We were not looking for these great side effects, but we will take them. The THC barely registers in third party testing (1% THC to 16% CBD). It’s a good start. He smiles a lot. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">THC</span> is a class of substances called cannabinoids and is the main psychoactive substance in cannabis. Even so, THC has been found to have several therapeutic applications such as treatment of mild to moderate pain, appetite loss, insomnia, depression and nausea.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">CBD</span>, or Cannabidiol is another type of cannabinoid found in cannabis. Unlike THC, CBD is non-psychoactive and does not contribute to a feeling of “being high”. CBD has been found to provide relief from chronic pain due to muscle spasticity, muscle convulsions and inflammation.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So here we are</span>. Zach is the proud owner of a medical marijuana card. He is not high. He takes a nice little bit in the morning and a pleasant tad in the evening. Stable, happy, sleeping better and less agitated. When Zach’s smiles, we all smile. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Zach’s blood work</span> shows that he is one healthy dude. In the beginning (we’ve been at this for 20 years) Zach was having between 15 to 20 seizures per day. Anti-seizure meds had reduced his seizures, sometimes down to one a month and up as we lose efficacy. Currently he has approxamitely 1 to 2 seizure per week. We’d love to see zero.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We are still hoping to bring Charlottes Web to the Rogue Valley, so that it is available not only for Zach, but other children who suffer seizures. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-83538071499407310372014-09-30T17:24:00.000-07:002014-09-30T17:24:03.123-07:00NWRAW OPENED and IN CAME NANNY JIA!<span style="font-size: large;">NUTSHELL #3</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our beautiful organic juice shop. NWRaw, we love you.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Note 1: NWRaw</span> opened in February! We are trudging up K2, whipped by ice pellets and the blinding wind of running a raw food bistro and juice bar. Good thing God can work with ignorant. We may not have known what we were getting into, but we are committed to seeing our dream come true. Thanks to those of you who are supporting us by putting foot to pavement and busting through our doors with fervor. I love it when I see and hear of your enthusiasm for our juice! <br />
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We are going back to school as it were. Reading...ever learning that our business is so much more than juice and healthy food choices. NWRaw is our product. And what a beautiful thing it is. Now to do the dream and NWRaw justice and learn the art of how to create an excellent experience for our customers time and time again. To create the most beautiful, supreme juice bar business in the country; heck, in the world! I get a lump the size of a lime in my gullet when I think that in a few months Northwest Raw will be one year old.<br />
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These past nine months have been harder than we’d imagined. Hear me. Having to plow winter wheat fields in a blinding snow storm, uphill behind a pair of oxen whilst pregnant with quadruplets might compare. But, if you are going to climb you might as well go for the highest peak. Right? We are finding the quote, “it takes a village” too true when it comes to having a brand new baby business. In May we brought to our staff, our son-in-law Trevor to manage along with our daughter Rachel (and the real boss, almost 2-year-old Elaithia June). They have been such godsends. They are young and beautiful and have energy. Web and I don’t have as much of that precious commodity as we used to. We have our place and that is, we are finding, different from the day-in and day-out management aspects. We are having to learn how to run a business. We love our little northwest juice bar, but as they say in the small business world, we need to be working ON our business, not IN it.<br />
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I feel we are about to crest the mountain top, but the trek to the top took kahunas…<span style="color: #111111; font-family: Baskerville; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-indent: -14px;">(in Hawaii) a wise man or shaman</span><span class="gp tg_df" style="color: #111111; font-family: Baskerville; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-indent: -14px;">.</span><br />
<span class="msDict t_core" d:abs="1" id="m_en_us1260432.001" style="color: #111111; display: block; font-family: Baskerville; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -14px;"><span class="gp tg_msDict" role="text"></span></span><span class="msDict t_subsense" d:abs="1" id="m_en_us1260432.002" style="color: #111111; display: block; font-family: Baskerville; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -14px;"><span class="gp tg_msDict" role="text">• </span><span class="lg" role="text"><span class="reg" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light; font-size: 12px;">informal </span><span class="gp tg_lg"></span></span><span class="df" role="text">an important person; the person in charge<span class="gp tg_df">:</span><span class="gp tg_df"> </span></span><span class="eg" role="text"><span class="ex" style="font-style: italic;">one big kahuna runs the whole show</span><span class="gp tg_eg">.</span></span><span class="gp tg_msDict" role="text"></span></span><div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span class="gp tg_msDict" role="text" style="color: #111111; font-family: Baskerville; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-indent: -14px;">• </span><span class="lg" role="text" style="color: #111111; font-family: Baskerville; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-indent: -14px;"><span class="reg" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light; font-size: 12px;">informal </span><span class="gp tg_lg"></span></span><span class="df" role="text" style="text-indent: -14px;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Baskerville; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">(in surfing) a very large wave</span><span class="gp tg_df"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Baskerville; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">. </span><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Just in case you were wondering. I was. Oh well</span></span><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">…</span></span><span style="color: #111111; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">I</span></span></span></span><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">’m leaving it.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nanny Jia</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Note 2: She Came— Zach’s Mary Poppins. </span>Seemes God paved a golden path for her right to Staunton Hill. Through a variety of encounters and name drops of this wonderful person, I felt prompted to go to Facebook and check her out. I was shocked to see her face at my door…you see…<br />
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Jia held a face I’d seen in a dream a while back. It was a real nighttime dream that seemed from God, but was not only improbable, but impossible at the time. In this dream we as a family were interviewing for a nanny. She walked through our front door dressed (yes as she did in reality) in a car coat tied in the middle, hair pulled over her shoulder and that face. It was the same face I saw when I went to her Facebook page. I nearly fell out of my clear acrylic chair. God is NOT dead.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now, oh the sweetness of the present</span>…Monday through Friday we have consistency in our day. Sigh…Zach has showers not given my myself, or Web. On days we are not at NWRaw early we get to enjoy steaming mugs of coffee together in our pj’s. All the while, Zach is having his meds drawn and given, food prepared, shower given, clothing washed, walks in the park and all manner of care given by a beautiful, lovely and kind young woman who loves Jesus with all of her heart. I couldn’t have picked a better nanny. I’m so glad I waited for God’s timing. And I didn’t even have to interview another save Jia, whom I knew immediately upon seeing her, was the one for us. The great thing is…she knew too. This is excellent for Zach and for us. We hold gratefulness in our hearts.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So…slow down</span>, enjoy every aspect of your life because<span style="font-size: large;"> the journey is part of the dream,</span> even in the tough stuff, even when the path seems longer, the air murky and dark and you feel like quitting, there is One who sees and who is creating, re-creating if necessary to bring about really good stuff for you. I can honestly say after this difficult season of caring for Zach, 20-years with little help and of birthing a new business. *tongue hanging out! Sticking to the side of the One Who Creates will pull us through. Hang on. We walk <span style="font-size: large;">through </span>life, one foot in front of the other, hope in our guts and maybe a little <span style="font-size: large;">organic latte</span> (made with freshly squeezed nut milk) in our bellies. <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Coming to NWRaw in two weeks!</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-69333923005627787192014-01-09T16:31:00.006-08:002014-01-09T16:37:18.696-08:00CLEAN WHITE PARCHMENTNutshell #2 (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">it’s about time Marmie! Somewhat busy with NWraw and family and….</span>)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach’s first visit to NWRaw</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It’s</span> like that. The new year is like a crisp white sheet of parchment. I never dreamed in January 2013 that in February of the same, we would be given a dream seed of a new business. Not in my vividest dreams could I have conjured up this new venture. Truth is, we never know what a new year holds. I wasn’t dreaming big enough. That’s the problem. What I thought was that we would be diving back into what we knew, not storming shoulders back into the new unknown. This dream is bigger than the two of us. It’s bigger than I could dream with a horde of dreamers. We needed The Dream Giver to embark on this wild wonderfulness. Astounding is what it is! What will be written on our new parchments at the end of 2014? Exciting to even imagine considering this past year. What will be the joys, the challenges, the dreams and sorrows? We will each have some of these things in the new year and most likely all, if not more.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We</span> here on Staunton Hill are loving life; at NwRaw still hammering, still nailing, still waiting to open. Challenge number one in 2014, open this new business ASAP. We dreamed a dream, we pushed forward with gusto. We gotta hike up that preverbal hill; take the high country. Live the dream. I like a good challenge and this new business is that.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grand babies in the unfinished cupboards at NwRaw. I adore this photo!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Good </span>tidings came near the end of 2013. News concerning the funds available for Zach in 2014; amazingly enough, plenty and then some for the hiring of a full daytime nanny! Oh yeah, lets hear it folks! *clap-clap-clap! Now, Mary Poppins, if you could please appear at my front door. Thank you very much.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">What </span>will Marmie Karen do with eight hours of care per day for her Zach Angel? I’m reeling with ideas. Reeeeeeling! Write…work some at NWRaw and perhaps; no probably I will just sit and stare…breathe in the restful refreshing-ness of nothing pressing. Tell my shoulders to get <i>down</i>….where they belong. Mornings in my pjs with time to sip a hot cuppa. Ahhhhh….<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">How</span> will Zach do with a new caregiver? She/He will be phenomenal, energetic and loving, stupendous…able to bring out the best in our beloved, or we won’t hire them, period. In a nutshell, he will love it :). Happy new year, happy new friend Zachie Angel!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We</span> have our space at NwRaw almost completed and it is astoundingly beautiful. We are working nearly around the clock to get those doors open. Cold Pressed colorful goodness in a glass coming your way in weeks.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I </span>can’t wait to post a full on photo of our shop and of people bustling in and out…for now…here’s a partial peek.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Dream, </span>and stand back. The filling of our 2014’s will be fabulous!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-52814449855238217752013-09-13T16:31:00.000-07:002013-09-14T16:28:18.213-07:00Dream Big or Grow Mold<br />
My next four posts will be nut-shell blogs—<i>a challenge from Marmie Karen to herself. Can she keep it short and sweet?</i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nut Shell #1</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Juicy News</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It’s</span> been awhile since I’ve blogged, it’s been awhile since we left Applegate Fellowship and it’s been awhile since we’ve had a steady job! We have been exploring a bit, you know like Lewis and Clark. It’s been fun, unfortunately fun doesn’t pay the bills.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This</span> past season whizzed passed something like a spring zephyr. We used this deep-and-wide time to fast, to pray and to play. To connect to each other and spend more time playing and caring for our Zach angel.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We</span> had no idea what we might do that would fulfill our dream of working together. It was like hopping from stone to stone in a pond only to end up standing one footed on the last stone with hands to foreheads…vague shadows, dappled light, but no clear way to our dreamland…suddenly something began to take shape in the mist before us.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fruitive Juice Bar in Virginia Beach, VA (missing from the photo, Josh and Zach)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The</span> family crammed bun to bun around our dark wooden table at a juice bar in Virginia Beach brains all a whir with our newfound pressed juice buzz. How fun would it be to have a family owned juice bar?! But…we had a job waiting back home, so this dream would wait.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">March</span> 1, we were not beginning the job we’d thought, but rather, we had begun writing a business plan to open our own raw juice bar. STOOOOKED! We rented a space in May and now in September we are waiting for our plans to get the stamp of approval. In November we will be opening our own organic juice bar located at 370 East Main, Ashland, Oregon. <br />
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We are working hard with a team to make sure that our new dream is formed excellently.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Visit our web page and indiegogo video</b></span>, <a href="http://www.nwraw.com/">www.nwraw.com</a>, <a href="http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/northwest-raw-organic-juice-bar-in-ashland-oregon/x/4560247" target="_blank">NWRaw Indigogo video</a><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-12775842125922544642013-02-23T08:20:00.000-08:002014-10-06T16:28:28.960-07:00A CAREGIVER’S VIGOR, SPIRIT.<br />
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WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A SOUL AND A SPIRIT?</div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: xx-small;">These last three posts are not meant to be a formula, merely an artistic display of how Father and I work and play together. And in my humble opinion; minimally, all art ought to have an affect on the emotions, and spirit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I was tired,</span> tending, always tending…sleep was interrupted, the irritated screaming my son couldn’t control was draining and went on for days sometimes weeks. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I was guilt ridden; there were words in the bible that said I wasn’t to grow weary whilst well doing. Problem was, I was “well doing” and…I felt weary. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My body felt weak, therefore, my soul suffered somewhat, my spirit was less affected, but affected. It is okay, human to feel tired, even exhausted. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Growing weary, or despairing takes in the whole of us, bodily exhaustion, a disconnected</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> soul and an unresponsive apathetic spirit. No one wants to </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">despair</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, but sometimes</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">…*sigh, t</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">here we are, in the pit. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I looked to my secret-spirit-spot, where His Spirit dwells and felt hope (He will always be with me), opened the eyes of my faith wide; there I saw the only One who has the </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">credentials</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> to restore/make-better-than-new, my soul. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">I have hunted and mined these word-picture-nuggets, they help my understanding of the soul and spirit differences. But then, I am a very visual learner. Now I am able to share with you (though, I’m sure you already know, as I am usually at the back of the class). </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">To me, they are much like a tree diagram. My spirit is the root (my source of power/grounding), the upper tree my soul, personality, or that which is perceived by others. This part of me converts Light into that which is usable for my “tree” from the air/world around me. This is how I grow, or not. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">Nature speaks; if the root is healthy, the tree grows.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">I envision, High Father, the Holy One, creating my unique body out of His organic artistic materials, you know, mud and such. He then hollowed out a placed inside of me that is perfectly fitted to His shape; a spirit spot, a place for Him to dwell closely with me, a place from which to help me navigate my living out of pure poetry, sheer artistry. This is my deep place, my secret place, His and mine and I cherish this place. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">I stand back and watch The Gardner, The Artist spill plentiful seeds, gifts and talents into my soul/mind. He smiles and I wonder, what kind of seeds are in me? It will take a lifetime for me to know each special plant, to display them all. I am convinced, beyond a lifetime. I show off His artistry most optimally when all my places are for one goal, my highest spirituality (not to be confused with a list of rights and wrongs, or behavioral modification). Then and only then will I be wholly, me…A healthy, useful tree.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small; line-height: 15px;">*You will find the name, He and Him pertaining to, </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small; line-height: 15px;">Father most of the time in this post, </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small; line-height: 15px;">but I believe, God has no gender, </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">is without form and is as congenial as a loving Dad,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"> yet as complex as ALL: </span><span style="line-height: 15px;">Indescribable Beauty.</span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 15px;">feel I need a short recap for any who missed </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">the last two blogs</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large; line-height: 15px;">THE BODY</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 15px;"> , </span><span style="line-height: 15px;">the content given to blog number one, is fairly easy to understand. It</span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;">’s a temporary tent, husk (as St. Paul calls it), or the temple of the Holy Spirit </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">and carries our spirit and soul around while we live life on earth. It is a good idea to take care of that temporal part of our forever being.</span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;"> It is made up of organic material, therefore, it is expendable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">We are told that those who are inhabited by Love, will get a new body in Heaven. I can’t even begin to explain the latter. It is far to high for my finite mind.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">THE SOUL,</span></span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 15px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 15px;">as discussed in the last post, is that part of the three that is me, plus. I will not be whole if I don</span><span style="line-height: 15px;">’t add, The Plus.</span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">I like to call the soul the seed-house of the inseparable-three, the spot where, if I choose, I allow my unique seeds, gifts and talents to be husbanded by the Inhibitor of my spirit-spot to recreate me, with my help of course. He and I are constantly working to eliminate weeds (we will be pulling weeds till kingdom come), or in other words, selfish traits that hurt my relationships with He and others. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"> Gifts and talents, I have found, left doormat are seeds that don’t push towards the heart, then up and out toward Light. They often end up ingrown and can, if left untended, move toward self-serving. If I seek out the Gardener and walk with Him through our secret place, I notice that His eternal light causes me to grow green, strong and healthy, plentiful for all to glean from; those within and without The Kingdom.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;">When souls and spirits are well tilled, planted, watered and tended by ourselves and The Husbandman, it is, as some say, the perfect storm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">AND NOW… </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large; line-height: 15px;">THE SPIRIT</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 15px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 15px;">is slightly more complicated, mysterious might be a better word, but I am going to try to explain it simply. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">As stated above, it is my thinking that we are all created with a place for, the Highest Spirit to reside, to take up a comfortable residence as our helpful Muse, our Teacher and our Comforter and if you will, the Light, the Power, that grows our garden well; from our secret place and that place alone, He aligns all of our three parts, spirit, soul and body, to be in perfect harmony.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large; line-height: 15px;">This Magnificent Being,</span><span style="line-height: 15px;"> who created each child carefully, has the potential to slip inside of that spot if we are open to who He is and desire Him. He is not a bully, or a rapist and will not force His way in to the secret place, but it is my belief that He will hover and woo each child till that child either, invites Him in, or dismisses Him as nothing, then as the bible states, you have grieved Father and He bows out gracefully submitting to the wishes of that child. He is after all, The Father of all Fathers. However, even those of us who invite Him in must realize that He will only be as useful, in that place, as we allow. </span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;">He makes Himself vulnerable, to me, this is one of the most enduring qualities of, Strong Father.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;"> I have heard some explain Him as a </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">metaphor, not the actual All Powerful Being He is who exists without form. This shuts down the Light. Neuters His propagating power in and around me. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">If that is true, I state without apology, I would be in big trouble.</span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">IF GOD is all knowing,</span> why did He allow man to fall? T</span><span style="line-height: 15px;">his dying thing is sort of gory and weird; w</span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;">hy didn</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">’t He make us like the angels so we could be forever with Him? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">Well, because I love story, I will just say this, He is the Ultimate Author. He is telling a magnificent story and you and I are just special enough to be a part of it. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Now we are enabled</span> (because goodness resides inside of us) to reconcile our selfish nature unfit to rule our triune selves, and call the High Father in to help us take in hand our new nature. Now we are free. He did not make puppets, but co-laborers. He gave us that power, that gift through His death. I</span><span style="line-height: 15px;">’m ever so thankful for that.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Magnanimous Being hovers</span> (I love that word) around me. He is over all, creation speaks of Him, but the best place for Love Spirit, as stated above, is inside of my spirit spot, my holy garden, where He tends me uniquely with the utmost care. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">There, in our secret place,</span> our spirit and soul are now joined with, Spirit. Our garden blooms and grows into a most glorious place. Harboring more beauty than we could have ever imagined; a place where others are welcome to come walk, enjoy and more importantly, where we work, co-labor together with Him to create the most useful, happy garden we two can possibly grow. Eventually, one little human being, the real us, all that is forever, spirit and soul, becomes a mature and useful garden.</span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">NOTE, OUR FERTILE field, our spirit place is either filled, or waiting to be filled with The </span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;">Husbandman, the Comforter, so that it might begin to grow, but it can </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;">also</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;"> be filled with any number of other gods, small g</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;">’s</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 15px;">. What comes of the latter will be a garden spot ill tended, tares will grow there and go unchecked. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large; line-height: 15px;">What about those special people</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 15px;"> that can’t speak for themselves? I live with my son who has autism, day in and day out and I’m certain my Zach has found his Source and dwells with Him in that beautiful garden spot of his that some might feel is unfruitful because he can’t speak and doesn’t appear right. If he is capable of having a unique relationship with his family (and he is), I believe he has the ability to have a relationship with Father. I </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 15px;">sense</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 15px;"> the greenness in his soul, whatever that may look like (that is between he and Father), and I am assured, his garden grows well. I am also aware that Zach may be one of the most pure beings I’ve ever met. Yes, even when he bangs his head and yells at me because of frustration.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">BUT FOR WE CARE TAKERS…</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large; line-height: 15px;">When I am worn and tired,</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 15px;"> I get myself quiet, </span><span style="line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I hear the longing of my spirit spot</span></span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 15px;">, crying to be tended and I know it is The Gardener who is calling. I need to take some time to go inside of my secret garden, and to abide there with Him. We carefully tend what needs tending, pull what needs pulling. Without Him, it is a lonely desolate place.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">HOW DOES YOUR GARDEN GROW MY FRIEND? </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOHVj4vCpS_kQMxKlcZTNMCFDRq37I-MnWXf3ECfQfQcc0WFXNtSp7RFagct0HA1RoBYwNAs29BsytVuqJ8zxDgtoHZ9AZIIhLiVlmmt-hpM9JkNNyVHLtQxcp6JF_3seqRZJJKgwy5fA/s1600/Lavender+fields.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOHVj4vCpS_kQMxKlcZTNMCFDRq37I-MnWXf3ECfQfQcc0WFXNtSp7RFagct0HA1RoBYwNAs29BsytVuqJ8zxDgtoHZ9AZIIhLiVlmmt-hpM9JkNNyVHLtQxcp6JF_3seqRZJJKgwy5fA/s1600/Lavender+fields.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I’m certain my garden is laced with lavender</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">beautiful to the Kingdom on Earth and the Kingdom of Heaven.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 15px;">Like trees planted by springs of living water our roots will run deep, we will not be moved.</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-88684891794507021462013-02-06T17:14:00.000-08:002014-10-06T16:20:15.518-07:00THE SOUL, A CAREGIVER’S VIGOR<h2 style="text-align: center;">
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IN THIS REEL OF THREE, NUMBER TWO IS DEDICATED TO YOUR SOUL. YES. THE AMAZING YOU<span style="font-weight: normal;">!</span></span></h2>
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Quickly…two updates from past blogs:</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44YtRy03Zf2WeiXaUbxXw0ge57xtmjS-dsvOTVqSqkKwhgz5IWggCLCTPC7L_sXpAzHqYa4VMFjK7U5PHGS3HfMeIZLYUkyoM1JE_xMirCeMiBpFj24R-blt8q05EBhNlRD_Vz3bmB5Bl/s1600/IMG_0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44YtRy03Zf2WeiXaUbxXw0ge57xtmjS-dsvOTVqSqkKwhgz5IWggCLCTPC7L_sXpAzHqYa4VMFjK7U5PHGS3HfMeIZLYUkyoM1JE_xMirCeMiBpFj24R-blt8q05EBhNlRD_Vz3bmB5Bl/s200/IMG_0012.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken 2/5/13</td></tr>
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<b>NUMBER ONE</b> update comes to you from my last post, <b>A Caregiver’s Vigor</b>…day 40 is here! Stats, Web’s energy level is high, his RA is under control (without pharmaceuticals) and he has lost nearly 24 pounds! Real, organic raw food is his new medication. We have added small amounts of protein along with freshly made juice for at least one meal a day, preferably two if time allows. We are in this for life. It really has been a Godsend for Web’s illness. And I have benefited as well. My weight has leveled out and I continue to feel bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, yes, this saying comes direct to you from my lovely mother.</div>
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<b>NUMBER TWO</b> update comes from, <b>Beginning A New Journey</b> blog posted September 2012. <br />
<b>Are we moving?</b></div>
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It appears not. We have been offered a position here in the valley (announcement coming soon) and are happy to tell you, ourselves and mostly Zach that for the time being, we get to stay on our very favorite hilltop and in our beloved emerald valley! Hip-hip-horray!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: normal;">HAVE</span><span style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: normal;"> YOU EVER ASKED, FATHER</span><span style="font-weight: normal;">, “Who am I and why am I here?” </span><span style="font-weight: normal;">What an enchanting and lovely dialogue it will spurn between you and He!</span></h3>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I enjoy the culinary arts…</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipKZTokA8VLaQhRj6J3NU507FwsJ-Udowu0fvnnwsCWLrliLJDt98cI64svtDn95Y2lfdCb7cfgr1R29FZKHoZZQWjPfjUfQ3sY7CbkALKUJ-mCxT9sUfsGZkYEiUqRPjfErib4aZ92VQT/s1600/worshiping+in+Israel191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipKZTokA8VLaQhRj6J3NU507FwsJ-Udowu0fvnnwsCWLrliLJDt98cI64svtDn95Y2lfdCb7cfgr1R29FZKHoZZQWjPfjUfQ3sY7CbkALKUJ-mCxT9sUfsGZkYEiUqRPjfErib4aZ92VQT/s200/worshiping+in+Israel191.jpg" height="200" width="135" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I enjoy photography and <br />
worshiping with my whole life…(Isreal, 1999).</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My family, I love them all so much it hurts….</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">THESE ARE THINGS </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: left;">I enjoy and love, but they are not the whole of me. I am not sure we ever know ourselves </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: left;">entirely (I think that is in the bible somewhere), but we can know in part when we ask the One who created us, and look on, if you will, as He peels away the layers of our complex being. I know He is smiling big with delight every second of our “big reveal”. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Having said that, a part of who we are, and why we are here is tangled up in our loves and enjoyments, gifts and talents. Some of our whole belongs to the spaces that fill the gaps between verve; the tears, the yawns (I love a good yawn, don’t you?), the prayers, hand holding and smiles. Our humanity, it is part of who we are for now, so make friends with it; yes, love it if you can. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I SUPPOSE I HAVE WONDERED</span> who I am and why I am here for a good part of my life. Strange as it sounds, I wasn’t aware that I could ask God why He made me, or who He made me. I thought that would be considered impertinent. I have learned that as a child of, God no question is impertinent. Ask what you will. You will not find a more gracious Teacher, Friend, or Father. It is a beautiful journey to begin. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">A SMALL SNIPPET OF MY STORY: </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> O</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">ne remembrance continues to come to mind often</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, why I don’t know, but perhaps it is because Father hammered the memory steadfastly to my soul at age eleven, so that He might show me something profound at age fifty-five.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I was in grammar school, probably around the sixth grade. I sat on the cold dark green seat of the long yellow fuselage shaped school bus and prepared for the fourth-five minute daily drive to the town where I went to school. I stared out the small rectangular shaped window allocated to my setting, as we careened down hill, over dale and zipped along treelined country roads. As my body dipped, popped and leaned with the movement of the large machine, I dreamed, I thought and I prayed as was my custom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I prayed especially hard that day, as I stared out of the window with tears burning my eleven-year-old eyes, I asked God to change me. I wanted to wake up bubbly, funny and smart, like Susan (not her real name). Susan had long shiny hair, sparkly eyes and her personality drew people to her like wild flowers reaching for the sun. I just wanted to be someone others would like to hang with and appreciate, well, in a nut shell, I wanted to be popular; I was anything but. My roots were country (that is a good thing, but in a town school…not so much) and I was the third of six children, poor as can be and insanely insecure. I didn’t like me when compared to the popular girls. I’d stare longingly at them, carefully, so that I might emulate, and I’d feel my lack, like a non-personality, overlooked and sometimes unappreciated. I would never be one of them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">HE DIDN’T </span>answer the way I thought He would, with instant change and all that. I thank Him for that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I’m sure Father smiled as He listened, He always listens, but…well…He had formed me; inside and out, larger than normal nose and all, given me all sorts of unique seeds of potential because…as He stared lovingly at His child, at what He had designed, He said, “I did good” (paraphrase mine). He longed to watch me unfurl into all I could be and I wasn’t to be like Susan at all, but rather, fully Karen. He created little ol’ me, he loved, Karen Ekstrom-Staunton, born in July of 1957, shy and demure, dreamer and meditator and thinker on things too deep for me to understand, the mysterious and the everyday. Yes, the one who thought herself boring and invisible was/is loved and hovered over by, Father. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">No person in all of eternity would, or could be the Karen Ekstrom-Staunton, plus Jesus mix He wished to bring to earth….so He hovers, watching….to draw only those in this time that We together would draw….He hovers….no one would love my husband, my children as I could; He hovers, he watches intently as though there were a web cam following me everywhere I go, not to spy, but to love, to breath the best out of Himself towards His child. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I now love, Karen Ekstrom-Staunton and I don’t pray to be changed. I pray for transformation, yes. But that is quite a different prayer than to pray my very being be changed into someone else (but that was the heart of a hurting child and I know He knew and used it, otherwise, why would I remember such a small blip of my life?). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As I yield, He has been and continues to transform the, selfish me (I can be quite self absorbed). This is simply proper Kingdom etiquette and though some of us may bristle at the words, proper and etiquette, I have learned that there are Kingdom standards that require transformation (a very multifaceted word). I find it to be a mysteriously full of life and that it brings out the real powerful me. Our original selves, untransformed, they would function sloppily in the Kingdom where justice rules and if I do say so, even in this present selfishly slanted world. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">*A transformed person, is simply a justified, adjusted soul in order that one might function fully in the Kingdom and into, Jesus’s likeness. It requires a new heart and a tamed mind. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">AS CAREGIVERS, </span>most of us know we are to grow and learn how to serve those entrusted to our care.</span> <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhprlQgF5_tctqTVH70Jz4iGQwmE4vGCHE8ijdgBBmYx5tVXlJl10NmNcI9EE4EiKOZxro9a5XnFnKcoZ9Loi_09YRPCVQptf0QTgTS_JF0DmaSbJGVIe1c4-I0MTMUzIR8lnBOZFRsP4YR/s1600/Karen+&b+Zach+in+chair162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhprlQgF5_tctqTVH70Jz4iGQwmE4vGCHE8ijdgBBmYx5tVXlJl10NmNcI9EE4EiKOZxro9a5XnFnKcoZ9Loi_09YRPCVQptf0QTgTS_JF0DmaSbJGVIe1c4-I0MTMUzIR8lnBOZFRsP4YR/s320/Karen+&b+Zach+in+chair162.jpg" height="204" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> But sometimes <u>who we are</u> can get lost in all the giving. Really real is the deal. If I am having a bad day, I should not act like all is well. No fake plastered on smiles will do here. I quote, “learn to smile from your liver”. To me, this means to hunger and fill yourself with all that is God. Then, no good thing will be withheld from you. It might take some sitting at, The Feet, some meditating and some prayer.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Dancing at a wedding<br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">DO I HAVE THE</span> <span style="font-size: small;">drive, or more appropriately in the caregiver’s world, the energy to live a crazy energetic *abundant, life? I try to. My previous post about the body states how I try to maintain a balanced triune being, body, soul and spirit. And for me, for the most part, I do live a vibrant life, but I don’t always have the energy to dance a jig. There are times when my creative life is setting on the couch after Zach is in bed, I light a candle, I make a cup of hot tea and pop in a favorite movie; usually I “watch” the flick with my eyes closed. Exciting ay?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I try to carry verve inside of the constricting walls of caregiving and outside of those walls as well? That life brought forth will look different in each household. I believe we are purposefully created to happen wonderfully in our world, whatever that world looks like.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">HOW OTHERS SEE ME</span> is partly who I am also. I am not sure all see me the same, but still, I know this to be a truth. Behavior modification for the sake of being liked, outside of being real, is not who I am; as a christian that is called false piety. False piety evokes in me the vision a pompous prig. I try not to be this! Not a pretty sight, nor much fun to be around. The eyes and hearts of others know what is real and what is fake.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">IN CLOSING, I, KAREN</span> was given a feminine soul a</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">nd placed inside of a woman’s body. The feminine soul is </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">a side of Father that compliments the male side, both are equal. There is nothing about God that is </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">less important than the other</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, all are needed to show the fullness of God. My spirit is neither male</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, nor female and when I get to Heaven, </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">to quote Jesus loosely, </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I will not be a sexual being, but like the angels. I will be a transformed me, but me, in relationship with Father as He pleases and others; me the one who loves to nurture, who likes order and beauty, the culinary arts and creating by seeing through the lens of a camera and writing with words on paper, I love old books, the smell of libraries, etc.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Will I cook with Father in Heaven? Might I be a part of the kitchen staff at the Marriage Supper? Will a photographer be needed at that highly creative event? Might I be involved in the decorating of the tables? I wonder…..but here, in this life as a woman, showing the feminine side of God; am I using my gifts, am I being knit into the Karen-Jesus He intended? Do I re-present Him well and am I at ease (“My yoke is easy…”) being His uniquely created being?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">WHO WE ARE IS HIGHLY COMPLEX </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">and dare I say, much like an iceberg. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It is partly who you know yourself to be, partly who others see you to be (listen and learn) and partly who you will come to be, this is the tip of the iceberg. Partly </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">we are the part of the iceberg under the water; the mystery.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">If we leave off our</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> selfishness, not our personalities, our big bold beautiful selves will have more room to move about.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">He broke the mold after creating you and I. There will never be another, _________ created throughout all of eternity.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> So love Him deeply for that, and so much more and appreciate who you are, value yourself, learn to love yourself and in this you will love others. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
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Reading recommendations:</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><u>Who Switched off My Brain</u>, by </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dr. Caroline Leaf,</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> <u>The Art of Being You</u>, by </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Bob Kilpatrick, and if you are an artistic soul, <u>Walking on Water</u>, by</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Madeline L</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">’Engle</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">REFLECT</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-GNLnZfrr5jHXtjtiPZ098dGzqMWDoRMlkZu12zkN8bO30pazvKywTqUnKj2higDLXvahLIL_K6DBh1rFA34kxqtfNDpsZNeOoaSdSowg0Yk2ijNi8-A-zJ8Zw5NGhYm69AWAajSyaMp/s1600/sunset+from+the+hill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-GNLnZfrr5jHXtjtiPZ098dGzqMWDoRMlkZu12zkN8bO30pazvKywTqUnKj2higDLXvahLIL_K6DBh1rFA34kxqtfNDpsZNeOoaSdSowg0Yk2ijNi8-A-zJ8Zw5NGhYm69AWAajSyaMp/s320/sunset+from+the+hill.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CUPPA JOE, LEAN IN, BREATHE AND MEDITATE</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-58358163280755660842013-01-24T07:45:00.002-08:002014-10-06T15:55:51.357-07:00A CAREGIVER’S VIGOR<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<u style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-large; text-align: left;">MY NEXT POSTS ARE DEDICATED TO THOSE WHO GIVE HARD TO THOSE WHO NEED THEM</u><br />
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<u style="background-color: white; text-align: center;">OUR WELL BEING DICTATES, NOT ONLY OUR QUALITY OF LIFE, BUT ALSO, THAT OF THOSE WE SERVE</u></h4>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love my angel boy</td></tr>
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</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;">SEVENTEEN YEARS ITS BEEN</span> </span>that I’ve been awakened by sounds emitting from Zach’s room, either a seizure, a rapid barrage of his funny words, or the click-click…click of a light switch. I know my day will include a good measure of care giving, self discipline and selflessness as my aching feet hit the wooly floor. Sometimes, what I’d like, is to pamper myself the way I pamper my son. It is easier now than it used to be, but there are times that are harder than others especially when my health comes up short in one area, be it a lethargic spirit, a shadow over the soul, or an imbalance in body.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwo6ixdJ_cf8KQ56hk3ZVFdelkNmSbSffcKXiuqsrkUy7Bug3nbtz9PqxVIb8qovzjdODHuvHNa4ZHtn8KuOnLcK-I-xTjufAqhkgNtGuZLNc2Cuy9VSC07TJlxNNk2pX7kkZUzygJI9qL/s1600/mom+and+I.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwo6ixdJ_cf8KQ56hk3ZVFdelkNmSbSffcKXiuqsrkUy7Bug3nbtz9PqxVIb8qovzjdODHuvHNa4ZHtn8KuOnLcK-I-xTjufAqhkgNtGuZLNc2Cuy9VSC07TJlxNNk2pX7kkZUzygJI9qL/s1600/mom+and+I.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My lovely Mama and I</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-large;">I HAVE QUOTED </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-large;">MY MAMA</span> in the past, her wisdom comes to remembrance when I need it most. Pointy hammering forefinger and all, “If you don’t take care of yourself, you may not be able to care for those you love and wouldn’t that be a shame.” So for the most part and as much as possible, I have heeded those wise words. I have eaten well to the best of my knowledge at any given time, I have exercised nearly every day of my adult life and tended my mind and spirit to the same standard. At the ripe old age of fifty-five, I have learned a thing, or two, yes, just a thing, or two.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-large;">WHAT WOMAN, OR MAN</span> who is the primary care giver to a helpless child, or adult doesn’t need, and want a goodly amount of health across their triune being; spirit, soul and body to get the job done well?<br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I’VE LEARNED TO TAKE IT EASY ON MYSELF,</span> to enjoy Him and those around me, but know, wrong attitudes, thoughts and endless food input can wreck havoc in a scope otherwise meant for peace and purity. I want to avoid havoc if at all possible. So, I try to act quickly when I see one of my “spots” out of whack. My spirit spot is meant for His habitation (is He noted and sought after), my soul is meant for purity, to be mastered by the spirit spot (am I listening to my new heart and moving from there rather than the mind; and in that realm, am I taking every thought captive and into His thoughts?), my body is His place of habitation (am I caring for it as though I am acutely aware He resides in me?). This is not a legalistic, regimented lifestyle; disciplined, yes, but my discipline, not yours, or anyone else's. It’s not about right and wrong, winning and loosing, it’s about transformation. Am I moving along in my journey toward Him? Do I love myself and others likewise? Is life sweet? Those are questions I ask myself often.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">THIS FIRST POST </span><span style="font-size: large;">I</span><span style="font-size: large;">S DEDICATED TO THE BODY,</span> though I believe the spirit spot in each of us deserves the place of first course, however, it being the first of the year, pacts being made and all that. Keeping in mind, of course, that this is my husbands journey and mine, each one reading this will hear differently what he or she must do for themselves…so here goes</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">We love exercise…Fresh air…</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIKsJEp0hNbzyV7fRPcBJQF8Yg_Dv07_47jS3-2Ty3On5TSfVnNbc0kEyo2Vehpl7QYVtJCZAopPnQGPZk89w76JUrjzXt4YpF0ZZYICaG4MWYFerRn38f1Dq9KnT4WaXXpWOdm69u0wR/s1600/Zach+swinging.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIKsJEp0hNbzyV7fRPcBJQF8Yg_Dv07_47jS3-2Ty3On5TSfVnNbc0kEyo2Vehpl7QYVtJCZAopPnQGPZk89w76JUrjzXt4YpF0ZZYICaG4MWYFerRn38f1Dq9KnT4WaXXpWOdm69u0wR/s1600/Zach+swinging.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">…and Sunshine</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5E1AzsWPF1cTFYXRsURrq3_XpBu09STh72oxrObeoL4qtVyz0F0WK88BJTMkpnXq4ivJt4tMIgse30vcPC_kbVHXH6XImFq7PghmFXASMSCkHDvvw3GMiJX_GG-rWWZKP8SOynT3e6dmz/s1600/IMG_9133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5E1AzsWPF1cTFYXRsURrq3_XpBu09STh72oxrObeoL4qtVyz0F0WK88BJTMkpnXq4ivJt4tMIgse30vcPC_kbVHXH6XImFq7PghmFXASMSCkHDvvw3GMiJX_GG-rWWZKP8SOynT3e6dmz/s200/IMG_9133.jpg" height="200" title="" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">A little extra weight…but happy </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Sumer 2012</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9rAqzy7lIqUjvi73K584oTCa31nZjYpIOTUtsWEqQnti6VeJhEXyW2ikFjUULn6zvB7GxXFbkQiRB_V8fu1XFIj_KfO4iyJg82TLo-70u6k3Xggx58sIMqLDnl5KGjjxPKKqUeGJg9nsG/s1600/IMG_9903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9rAqzy7lIqUjvi73K584oTCa31nZjYpIOTUtsWEqQnti6VeJhEXyW2ikFjUULn6zvB7GxXFbkQiRB_V8fu1XFIj_KfO4iyJg82TLo-70u6k3Xggx58sIMqLDnl5KGjjxPKKqUeGJg9nsG/s200/IMG_9903.jpg" height="200" width="192" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Thin (er)…(still happy) into the winter</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">January 2013</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">OPTIMUM PHYSICAL HEALTH,</span> may look quite different on me than it does on you. Some folks just luck out and find health to be easy, others have maladies that just don’t seem fair, but then, as mama says, life isn’t supposed to be fair. How I deal with that right there, it can be a key fashioned to turn me toward freedom, or lock me up in a lifelong mental prison of bitterness. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">I love feeling excited about life, happy to roll out of the sack in the morning and ready to dive into what the day holds. Mind you, I don’t always feel excited, but I’d like to. Here lately, it is much easier as my energy level rises to meet my life dream. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">I have found that the aforementioned is not wholly dependent upon a healthy body, however good health can carry a caregiver a long long ways down that hard trodden path. Zach’s care is intense and sometimes, I’m just plain tired, or have felt I don’t have what it takes to give what I know is needed. He, Zach, can’t help me. He just knows he needs help and I am his helper, sick to death, or healthy as a horse, I am his caregiver. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">A few years ago, early in 2009 I had hip replacement surgery. I was born with hip dysplasia and at 52 years of age, it was, well, plum wore out. I was sleeping on tennis balls to cut the nerve pain and after several years of limping around like granny with a cane, I decided (with the gentle nudging of my loving husband) that it was time to fix that birth defect ASAP. I wish I’d done it earlier. Pain free, able to care for Zach and working out every day. I had to take the bull by the horns so to speak and get’er’done. <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">ONE WAY we looked into finding OUR OPTIMUM </span><span style="font-size: large;">was through</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> JUICE CLEANSING, </span> However, day two was straight from the abyss, but about day three we started to feel somewhat better and the weight was melting, yes, that miracle word…melting off. Web, my husband of 32 years has been suffering from the effects of an autoimmune disorder, RA and skin rashes for the past ten years. He has been on very expensive medication for the RA and antihistamines for his allergies every day. He began to feel the positive results of our changed diet immediately (after day two, which, did I mention was from hell), he also wanted and needed to lose about thirty pounds. Me, I thought I would support his decision and go along for a few days. I like health; how hard can it be? I am a fairly disciplined person, I workout almost daily and eat for my health….Ahem, reasonably well. Piece-a-cake. Right? Right!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">FOR ME, no RA, instead FEMALE AGING </span>is in full force, hot flashes, weight gain and worst of all, the icy gray brain fog, arg, slog…slush! Not terminal, I don’t think, but uncomfortable as heck. I thought perhaps a cleanse would help with the symptoms of that and also some other light aches and pains that I have “grown” into. I’ve tried every remedy known to man (except pharmaceuticals, which I deem a last resort) and had a little success; bio-identical hormones gave me about fifty percent relief with hot flashes in intensity and duration. I found that with the weight gain, good old fashioned, eat less, move more was doing the trick (but SO hard!). Then our insurance ran out last July, my ability to hang on to my bio-identical hormones went away. Ahhhhh! What to do?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">The idea that Zach may not be as well tended as he could be sends me vaulting towards my personal optimum health (most days, because some days, I just feel like slogging it out and eating chocolate), like I said, in all three realms of my being, my spirit, my soul and my body.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A CLEANSE. </span> No body wants to hear about the dope next to them who found the latest cure for what ails them through their diet and a ridged exercise plan. BOOOOO! So I will try to be objective and unbiased…though it will be hard for me, so I will ask you to please bear with the gray-haired cheerleader. We are twenty-five days in…details gone missing, let’s just say the past three weeks have been topsy-turvy, over headache hill and down energy mountain, over “what have I done?! cliff and on over to to the plateau; gee, I feel great!…(when can I have a burger?!). </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">I had heard that a cleanse could reset your health quickly without the side affects of pharmaceuticals. I had also heard that it could kick autoimmune disorders in the derriere. So here’s the skinny on that (google, Knife over Fork, The Juice Lady and Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead); keep in mind we did a 16 day juice cleanse (did I mention that I won’t be doing that again any time soon…) and are only a total of twenty-five days into the whole of eating nothing but raw (I started in on chicken stock and protein about 4 days ago), but some of the rewards of all that climbing and plummeting are in…</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">SURPRISE NUMBER ONE,</span> In the morning, or rather the middle of the night when I’d get up to care for Zach I’d find myself hobbling from the pain in the souls of my feet; I’d heard that it was just something old folks put up with (nerve damage, or something like that), so I did, until about day five of the cleanse when I noted that the pain had almost completely disappeared.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">NUMBER TWO, </span>we heard through a friend that a local chiropractor was treating his RA with diet and had had great success (no pharmaceuticals), this news spurred us on even further. Web says his joint pain is nearly gone just from changing his diet and his rash has diminished.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">NUMBER THREE,</span> how does Zach feel when we are not ourselves because of pain, or poor health? Would mom and dad’s regained verve affect Zach? I would think, Zach being highly tuned to the spiritual world, would sense our well being with greater receptivity than we do and I know how I respond when someone with good health, glowing skin and sparkly eyes comes into my space. I not only see it, I feel it! We are pretty sure Zach is feeling our good health. He is smiley and happy.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">NUMBER FOUR,</span> the energy level I began to feel around day twelve was awesome. I felt and continue to feel like a kid! It’s a good high. One I’d like to stay on. I had ups and downs till day twelve. In fact…I was ready to bail. So glad I stayed on the juice wagon. Web says he can’t ever remember feeling this good.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">NUMBER FIVE,</span> seven pounds for me; twenty lbs for Web, in twenty-five days. Not the goal of the cleanse, but hey, a nice side affect don’t ya think?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">NUMBER SIX,</span> Sloshy, slushy gray brain fog…gone! Hot flashes, better some days and others, they are the same. I am still holding out hope that as I continue, they will be alleviated, obliterated, blown out of my body completely.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-large;">AND STILL COUNTING…</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day one, December 28th…not well hubby</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day twenty-eight, January 25th…Amazing results!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">28 days in….I WILL KEEP YOU POSTED</span><span style="background-color: white;"> on our successes and perhaps failures. We are, after all, human, but I am a believer! Yesterday we had an exciting addition of a little smoked salmon sprinkled on our raw salad. We nearly cried it tasted so good! Protein is underrated. We are in this for the long haul; slowly adding goodness to our food regime and routing out those things that cause a bad reaction. It’s a food adventure! </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Organic raw food, fresh air and exercise to heal, or pharmaceuticals? I don’t know about you, but we choose the former.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">Fun Raw Recipe:</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Rich and Creamy Mock Pate</span></span></div>
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<u style="background-color: white;">Ingredients:</u></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">2 stalks celery (finely diced)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">2 cups raw walnut pieces</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">1 large red bell pepper (cut into fine diced-sized pieces)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">1 large scallion or 1/2 a leek (finely diced)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">1/2 to 1 teaspoon sea salt</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">My addition 1/8 tsp liquid smoke. And I don't finely dice my veggies, just slice them up so they fit into the VitaMix. The VM does all the work for ya.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Put all ingredients into a blender, and puree until mixture is creamy smooth in texture.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Scoop onto cucumber slices, carrot discs, or an array of fresh sliced veggies of your choice. </span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-38092927326467811372012-09-28T14:49:00.000-07:002014-10-06T15:47:07.898-07:00Beginning a New Journey<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkoSxlO-Isb3mpRANFqRVZIij_PcuKS-BSQRI3vaaVuHJdHo0euT-Zy9VtFG6gKB0oqhStSYuFuDZ9D4A3g1DzO8JqySytpzAMIfuw4MGg83xoS1a-L357cTzkt3lT87XoP6lDT65Gb65g/s1600/view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkoSxlO-Isb3mpRANFqRVZIij_PcuKS-BSQRI3vaaVuHJdHo0euT-Zy9VtFG6gKB0oqhStSYuFuDZ9D4A3g1DzO8JqySytpzAMIfuw4MGg83xoS1a-L357cTzkt3lT87XoP6lDT65Gb65g/s1600/view.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OUR VIEW</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">NEW</span>… this phrase does not find a comfortable home underneath the hair and skull of an obsessive compulsive person. Same-same, that settles right tight between the purring ears. However, sometimes, a family needs some new, or in this case can’t help that new is coming. How do we prepare our loves that might not cope well with change for that very thing? I am in the throws of this now. First, I must get myself over the hump of a move after settling on this hilltop for nearly twenty-seven years. Then I might be able to prepare Zach for what might be absolute upheavel.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">IT MIGHT NOT MANIFEST</span> as what I’m envisioning. Change rarely does. We’ve watched this “change” in job and possibly in location coming down a slippery pike for, oh, over a year now. I’ve had to be willing (very difficult for a stick-in-the-mud like myself), and thus already…in my mind I’ve prodded myself to move on, straight up to Seattle, jogged up to Portland and on over to Bend. Now…seriously? Do we get to stay in our beloved valley? I had to labor to get to the point of real willingness, not just saying, “OK, I’ll go” but actually being excited about going if that was on the docket of, the life and times of Web and Karen Staunton. I started this post thinking we were moving, we did a gigantic purge of twenty-six years of “stuff” pushed into cabinets, closets and behind the storage shed (That. Already obese with junk). Oh the stuff we’ve acquired, stored and now chucked. It feels much cleaner, lighter, like breathing fresh air after lungs full of thick smoke. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">THIS PURGE</span>, it’s healthy, whether we move, or stay and so is the mental willingness…empowering, yep, that’s the right word, as I let go of twenty-six years of memories jarred loose in the change-thing, I realize I will always have those memories whether the stuff stays, or goes (let someone else make a memory with it), I am now able to make room for more living and to push the save button and move on (not that I’ve gotten rid of it all. *shamefaced). But now, I give thanks for being able to hatch and raise our family in this wonderful hilltop-hacienda. To think of leaving as positive was no small feat. I struggled (might still struggle). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">AS </span>we prepare Zach for this change… </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">HOW DO WE</span> “move a rooted Zach” forward? Will he melt down, stay melted down; not be the same happy man-child we’ve learned to work with? Because meltdowns, they equal no fun and throbbing eardrums. Still; meltdowns happen. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">THERE ARE SMALL THINGS</span> we can do, but first off…I believe in talking to, The Being Who Has The Power To Transform and positive brain waves that move before us and make the path smooth and easily followable: Whether we know it, or not these positive thoughts help the atmosphere around our children also. If we are not dealing well with a situation it throws stumbling blocks into their world and it’s much more difficult for them to wade through these obstacles of fear and confusion than it is for us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">ALSO</span> communicating to our children about the move and reassuring that all of their loved things will come along; even though Zach is nonverbal we assume he hears, because we really are unable to know what he is and isn’t able to process. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">MAKE A PLAN</span> as to what moving day will look like. Will the child’s room stay in tact till the morning of? In our case this would need to be the case. On top of that, Zach’s stuff would need to arrive and be set up before him and in a longer move, this might pose a problem. *Note to self here, deal with one day at a time. We would have to prepare, not only Zach, but ourselves for the long arduous days ahead of reestablishing Zach’s comforts and routine. In a nutshell, prepare for the days ahead and then roust the good within to deal healthily with what is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">THIS</span> is today’s post (actually started months ago and still we wait for answers to change); I do hope we are not prodded on, but…as I journal, what will tomorrow hold and am I willing?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">MEANWHILE</span> we have had a married daughter and hubby move from Portland to our basement…expecting our fifth grand child (due October, 6th). Oh happy day!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUY-OeBZApk84TiRDm99B6cbpHocBFYzeg5pqhQPwsc22rGxUOLmE6hgGDh0Cb4-SevmMyKeL1SZtDRkJX5gmwpynCg0k0vmyOjGQgo1nvP1ARFTvc19proVcWBfQ3g9-F6d4PXkWb6WZ/s1600/Rachel+and+Trevor%252C+red+dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUY-OeBZApk84TiRDm99B6cbpHocBFYzeg5pqhQPwsc22rGxUOLmE6hgGDh0Cb4-SevmMyKeL1SZtDRkJX5gmwpynCg0k0vmyOjGQgo1nvP1ARFTvc19proVcWBfQ3g9-F6d4PXkWb6WZ/s1600/Rachel+and+Trevor%252C+red+dress.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">RACHEL, TREVOR and BABY ELAITHIA</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">SON, JOSHUA</span> graduated Full Sail University in August and has moved to Portland looking for work in the indi film industry.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYgTCYo29K5PVrNc4RNgTeX-W74OCGNQh9NOswwbw4J20-r73turPA2Yck9ap_790JXjrOGi6t-EdaURZmUfXPYWMZb3HaaWD_Syq-iABzaadI1o5QbBF274wXD7hZkmxIfyBTyLDuJk28/s1600/Josh%2527s+graduation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYgTCYo29K5PVrNc4RNgTeX-W74OCGNQh9NOswwbw4J20-r73turPA2Yck9ap_790JXjrOGi6t-EdaURZmUfXPYWMZb3HaaWD_Syq-iABzaadI1o5QbBF274wXD7hZkmxIfyBTyLDuJk28/s1600/Josh%2527s+graduation.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">JOSHUA, August 30th</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">FOUR BEAUTIFUL GRAND BABIES </span>continue to grow and keep the memories coming.<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOdM74qmgwnqtJr3qeEA-4GFLXrXUhvMIUagOvff2AFaR5Ej90CDyEaGBGzOQ4v97KwL3rdf-IFzoH6y_X-t7jZgxio2qSNdLkduSR89jnbic4lPXoHPLujY7pgtQjQV4jiem7BUc4rGeD/s1600/Montanna+and+Buddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOdM74qmgwnqtJr3qeEA-4GFLXrXUhvMIUagOvff2AFaR5Ej90CDyEaGBGzOQ4v97KwL3rdf-IFzoH6y_X-t7jZgxio2qSNdLkduSR89jnbic4lPXoHPLujY7pgtQjQV4jiem7BUc4rGeD/s1600/Montanna+and+Buddy.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">MONTANNA AND URIAH September 22nd</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwDUbYBzrRI49LD0JbJDpTXOeqfIdZ_kCIMsVP-PVv8kcnv9REQGBZ9gWsskGVlkyLQlmcwffR2lIOZQhrK41Wn4dEbnw-5xaXXSBvQw-wNBMtMOIPwgQHrA1N5mUwMZrCzc351JhdGX9/s1600/JJ+n+Savannah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwDUbYBzrRI49LD0JbJDpTXOeqfIdZ_kCIMsVP-PVv8kcnv9REQGBZ9gWsskGVlkyLQlmcwffR2lIOZQhrK41Wn4dEbnw-5xaXXSBvQw-wNBMtMOIPwgQHrA1N5mUwMZrCzc351JhdGX9/s1600/JJ+n+Savannah.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">JULIANA and SAVANNAH September 19th</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">IMPROMPTU,</span> it happens on Staunton Hill. KEEP IT COMING, or move it on!</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-68416503122938444972012-05-27T11:02:00.002-07:002014-10-06T15:43:07.578-07:00Eat Your Oatmeal!...With Your Fingers<span class="Apple-style-span" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://img2.timeinc.net/health/images/slides/oatmeal-heart-400x400.jpg" height="200" id="il_fi" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="200" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">O</span>atmeal. The word is warm, it steams, it gurgles on the stovetop and the aroma congers up the image of a cool fall morning when woodsmoke hangs in the air and geese honk overhead. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">T</span>here, on the ranch cook stove in mama’s oversized pot we’d lift the lid with a clang and view the bubbling slime ("looks like buggers,” one of the six said); our breakfast. Since then I have come to enjoy oatmeal and its many benefits. I’ve fed it to my growing children with their health in mind, save one, Zach.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Z</span>ach does not eat with utensils, a small obstacle, therefore, porrage’y type foods are out for him, which proves a slight health conscious dilemma for his caregiver, me. I once heard a friend say that she cooked her irish oatmeal in the crockpot all night long. I cocked my head to the side and took note, I’d never heard of that method for cooking oats before. I didn’t give it much thought till I saw some recipes for the same posted on the newly put forth social media craze, Pintrest. I gave the pottage a whirl this winter while we had our grown children and grand babies visiting (I forgot to spray oil into the crockpot first though. A mild expletive inducing mistake). The recipe was, to me, surprisingly delicious, in spite of the heavy brown crust lining the inside of my shiny crockpot insert. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I</span>t got me thinking. How can I get Zach to eat this? I made up a cookie recipe similar to the oats (a good second), I tried the spoon to the lips routine, which caused my twenty-year-old to turn his head in displeasure. Ha-rumph-a-rooie! Well, you know what they say, where there’s a will, there’s a way, by gum (thanks, Grandpa Culp for the, “By gum” part)! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">S</span>hortly thereafter I had an epiphany during one of my unnerving “middle of the night hot-flashes”; they can be useful occasionally. I was excited to give it a try. The next evening I mixed all of the ingredients into my ancient, never say die slow cooker (I forgot to spray the oil in first...again!). I set the dial to low and smiled, as I meandered up the stairs with a book under my arm, tea in hand; a healthy breakfast would be ready to serve as soon as feet hit the floor. These small seemingly silly things give this homemaker/caregiver a great since of accomplishment.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">T</span>his loosey-goosey easy recipe can fire up the culinary artist in almost anyone because, really, you can add any number of ingredients to the base of oats, all sorts of healthy things like flax, coconut, nuts, raisins, peanut butter, crisp bacon (organic, pasture raised of course, for savory lovers), chia seeds, hemp seeds, et cetera. The next morning, if you like oats, you’ll find breakfast warm, satiating and yum. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">A</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">fter Web (Zach’s dad) an I had our, utensil eaten oats that swam happily in melted butter and brown sugar, I plunked the heavy cinnamon smelling ingredients into a greased bread pan, pressed them as though I were making a mold and baked the “loaf” for an hour at 350 degrees (you may refrigerate the leftover oats and bake the loaf in a day, or two. The refrigeration makes the concoction firmer and easier to work with; just press the cooked refrigerated oats into the greased loaf pan as directed above and bake). Once cooled, this amazingly healthy loaf cereal may be cut into moist finger sized slices for dipping in melted butter and maple syrup, or for the utensil’less eater, bite sized squares.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">A</span>s Zach’s health and fitness guru, I’m very happy to have come up with a way for him to eat oatmeal...with his fingers no less and me, I’ve given it a shot, you bet! It works for we busy utensil users who want the experience of eating oatmeal with our fingers occasionally; quite satisfying actually. Spread on a pat of softened pasture butter, drizzle a little warm honey over the top and eat on the go-go-go.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">T</span>his experiment, gone good, has added a much needed change-up in Zach’s deeply rutted breakfast routine. I<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span>hope it also helps you kick one little finger-food-eating breakfast dilemma in the buttski!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Slow Cooker Steel Cut Oatmeal, With Options</span><br />
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<div class="summary" id="intro" style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-bottom: 1.5em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1.5em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">M</span>ake sure to use steel cut oats in this delicious crockpot breakfast recipe. I use Bob’s Red Mill organic steel cut oats (look for gluten free). Costco now sells steel cut oats in 4 LB 8 OZ bags. Yay Costco!</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; text-decoration: inherit;">
Prep Time: <span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">15 minutes</span>
Cook Time: <span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">8 hours</span>
Total Time: <span class="duration" style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">8 hours, 15 minutes<br /><span class="value-title" style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;" title="PT8H15M"></span></span>
Organic Ingredients: (you may make up your own, by using the 1 cup oats and 4 cups water, just add a total of 2 cups of anything, coconut, raisins, flax, chia seeds…mix it up oh creative one :))</div>
<ul style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-bottom: 1.5em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1.5em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: relative; text-decoration: inherit; z-index: 0;">
<li class="ingredient" style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 18px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">1 cup steel cut oats</li>
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<li class="ingredient" style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 18px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">1/2 cup of cold milled flaxseed, or chia seeds</li>
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<li class="ingredient" style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 18px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">1 cup dried cranberries</li>
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<li class="ingredient" style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 18px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">1 cup dates, chopped</li>
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<li class="ingredient" style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 18px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">4 cups water, with a 1/2 tsp salt and a pinch of cinnamon and mace added</li>
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<li class="ingredient" style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 18px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">1/2 cup half and half</li>
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<li class="ingredient" style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 18px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">2 tablespoons honey, or maple syrup</li>
</ul>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Preparation:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">S</span>pray inside of slow cooker with organic nonstick cooking spray…please. Combine all ingredients except half and half and honey in the slow cooker, cover and cook on LOW for 7 to 8 hours. Stir in half and half and honey, and serve with butter and sweetener (coconut palm sugar is a winner). With leftovers (if there are any) grease a loaf pan with coconut oil, or nonstick spray and pour oatmeal to within 1/2 inch of the top. Bake at 350 degrees for up to one hour, or until set. The loaf will set further when it is cooled and placed into the refrigerator. Loaf may be sliced and stored in the refrigerator for up to a week. You may warm it slightly in a buttered frying pan, or microwave. Drizzle with a mixture of melted butter and warmed honey, mmmm. Messy, a little yes, but so delicious! Zach eats it right out of the fridge.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-65588614857525356432012-04-28T18:46:00.000-07:002014-10-06T15:37:33.807-07:00The Four of Us and Healing Love...<h2>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNmr7xZjWkFTiot0m8qL50T9ZC-uW0Rfeod_3NhVRBhEo-O4xuCis6y9UcUy69XhxjBnK7xfgNSX_BohWtoNngvUvccaJvP-8XjNoYsjt9ViDhw2UCI4JVsGIuHwGvBGALVCwRsb4BKZAy/s1600/the+four+of+us+and+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNmr7xZjWkFTiot0m8qL50T9ZC-uW0Rfeod_3NhVRBhEo-O4xuCis6y9UcUy69XhxjBnK7xfgNSX_BohWtoNngvUvccaJvP-8XjNoYsjt9ViDhw2UCI4JVsGIuHwGvBGALVCwRsb4BKZAy/s1600/the+four+of+us+and+mom.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The foursome with our sweet mama</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</h2>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>That is what</b></span> we call ourselves, the four of us. We were raised rancher’s daughters amongst cows and prickly hay bales. We learned young the meaning of hard work. Two brothers tailed the four of us, they were our babies 'til they grew in stature, began to set the seat of a tractor and drive the hay truck. I’m sure daddy was glad to see his boys grab a hay hook and dump the dresses his four daughters put them in.<br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">There is a healing joy</span></b>, laughter and enlightened tears that wash over my heart when I think about my sisters and our past, our present and how intricately we are linked, like one, but four. A life lived tucked up against the Cascade Mountain Range where our 1300 acre ranch sprawled; nothing but land, critters and the breath of life. We bonded hard and fast because, well, we were all we had. Now each one in her own home, children raised close, like we were. Each with our own troubles and joys. <br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My buddies</span></b> have always been there for me and especially during Zach’s illness (and sisters-in-law; they stood by strong too; helping, loving). I don’t know if I would have made it without the support of my God given sisterhood. You are all treasures, each one glistening in a different way.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>We try to gather</b></span> together often for coffee, or lunch. The blessed days of consistent meetings are dwindling as times change, we change, life changes. But for nearly ten years we had a weekly coffee day and on “coffee day” we had an unspoken creed of no gossip, no slander. These days fell right in the middle years of caring for Zach. My sisters were and are my multitude of counselors. I'd drag myself out to the car feeling I couldn’t take another step. Once through the doors of the coffee shop, the faces of my sisters, those faces and hearts I’ve know forever, they would lift, would listen as tears flowed and always, always my heart left more resolute to do the right thing, to keep on keeping on. Gathering was and still is for positive reinforcement. For heartaches to be shared in a safe place, for love to wash over hurts and for the healing balm of laughter...and loads of the latter. All it takes is a certain look and we drown our silly selves in a bath of giggles. Oh how my heart squeezes behind these ribs. <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>We joke about a long line of rocking chairs</b></span> on a front porch one day; fourteen to be exact (perhaps fifteen if Zach joins us) when the hips fail and walkers are parked next to us and then, when the hard work of life is done, we four Swedish sisters and our beloved mates, our two brothers (their mates) and mama and daddy will sit and have coffee every day like we used to around the ranch breakfast table and laughter will be our good medicine till we meet in the great beyond and there...with our precious Jesus, we will continue our sipping of transformed coffee (I’m not sure what that is, but it’s bound to be luscious), our deep loving and honking with laughter over all those inside jokes.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT-KzGUzutOwG59kpYlxrJmT1sILOXsfxWc_IfCXzgwsbjY-cSz6nkVNGqalV69bOPDskUQaNt-ieQQ22FV4KqyN0H9Uic7XLfaGK3OLMKE20GTXrbN1_tAtBYn0Vk5nJxB6Ot2DZBRfE7/s1600/Medicine+lake+dock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT-KzGUzutOwG59kpYlxrJmT1sILOXsfxWc_IfCXzgwsbjY-cSz6nkVNGqalV69bOPDskUQaNt-ieQQ22FV4KqyN0H9Uic7XLfaGK3OLMKE20GTXrbN1_tAtBYn0Vk5nJxB6Ot2DZBRfE7/s1600/Medicine+lake+dock.jpg" /></a><b style="font-size: x-large;">Excitement mounts </b>as our annual gathering is seen just down the path a ways. There, we prepare for our sisters-get-away. This, I call my yearly feng shui, my… stop and smell the lavender life-is-good antidote. We’ve all raised our families and we can afford that yearly break from the merry-go-round of life (of course, I still care for Zach, but he stays behind with his dad, or care givers. It’s a much needed break for me). It’s always hard to pull away; but we need to make the effort to heal in a quiet place where daily service is minimal. We pack light, and drive to the Staunton cabin in northern Cali; shopping for food at several health food stores along the way. Our cabin is remote, there are no facilities close by. The nearest town, McCloud is over an hour away. We pack what we need, give gifts to each other, lay in that high mountain sunshine on the oversized dock and reminisce, till, if there were any, the cows come home. They are, next to my immediate family, my greatest support, my therapy, my comedic relief and Zach’s treasures. My three sisters are living proof that there is a God, He loves beauty and He enjoys laughter. Sheila, Linda and Janice…I adore you!<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Here is to </span><span class="Apple-style-span">yesterday</span>,<span class="Apple-style-span"> (</span>our special lunch time. I look forward to our next lunch date) cheers! You bring me that special sister light always.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qstpqAaaOjt-0et7AadPQipQgHZvSQM44TvMJQbgOMg49oF9pF5jDnZp0stdvHS5eh3yVxXPUMRtHUMg3yYJuBijLYb1A5icw1SHFDMn3jCfOgsbJ4giVtf_yMDJAwGoercnRcFK2cxC/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qstpqAaaOjt-0et7AadPQipQgHZvSQM44TvMJQbgOMg49oF9pF5jDnZp0stdvHS5eh3yVxXPUMRtHUMg3yYJuBijLYb1A5icw1SHFDMn3jCfOgsbJ4giVtf_yMDJAwGoercnRcFK2cxC/s320/photo.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From left to right, Janice, Linda, Karen (me) and Sheila<br />
Shopping at La Boheme where Linda works 4/27/12</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-78957905043514510202012-04-03T20:48:00.001-07:002014-10-06T15:27:44.112-07:00AUTISM AWARENESS DAY, un-feng-shui-ed<h2>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: normal;">AUTISM AWARENESS DAY...It’s the end thereof. Mommies and daddies all over the world spent twenty-four hours somewhat like this….</span></h2>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;">JUST BECAUSE-OR-MUST BECAUSE…</span></div>
<h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">In honor of our son, Zachariah William who carries the torch of light and joy</span></h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">IT IS MORE THAN "JUST"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> for Zach, it is “must”: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thinking-In-Pictures-Reports-Autism/dp/0679772898/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1333486689&sr=1-2">Thinking In Pictures, by Temple Grandin</a>. Both the book and the movie shine an important and creative light into the world of Autism. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">ZACH</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">HAS AN</span> </b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">internal alarm clock (a groove not unlike the Mariana Trench located in his brain that wakes him between 1:30 and 3:00. Time change, schmime change). Those pesky</span> must’s!<b> </b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> I slog down the stairs in my pj’s at 1:45 (Web and I alternate nights getting up with Zach, last night was my night to get up). I make my way into Zach's room. He’s out of bed playing with a bin full of stuffed toys, he’s stuck (stuck happens). I wait…still waiting. My back feels like a tight bungie, I lean over and grab the toys on the floor and toss them onto his bed then…after what seems like an hour, I lift the bin and place it on his bed (thinking out of sight…). He stands wondering where his toys have gone (but he’s moving). His sagging wet diaper is replaced with a nice dry one. He and I schlep to the kitchen with his water cup.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmPxY3-p2IzUvYXbTfx5fFS04-A-DMdVBspEPE5PKLofPseAuPn-Fe_I3zVy-ZII_qwcz-Cds5khCW6w3_MSkF1zAk9cNcuLWi3kppnj_p8Ai6ohHLQ3Rwvu8ttF89J9VA0ITEWMkIv0R/s1600/photo+copy+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmPxY3-p2IzUvYXbTfx5fFS04-A-DMdVBspEPE5PKLofPseAuPn-Fe_I3zVy-ZII_qwcz-Cds5khCW6w3_MSkF1zAk9cNcuLWi3kppnj_p8Ai6ohHLQ3Rwvu8ttF89J9VA0ITEWMkIv0R/s200/photo+copy+2.JPG" height="149" width="200" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span>
<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">ZACH flips toys across the carpet, I stare blankly</span> he’s stuck again. I keep saying, “water” to cue him, but it takes a while…finally, ten minutes later...we replace the water cup in the fridge door with the newly filled one. He grabs the cold one….must because) then digs around in the silk leaves (he’s yanked off of my silk plant over the past two years), window clings and such that fill the metal sand bucket setting on the counter (it’s his special stash)…must because. Were I not such a close observer of autism, I may say from afar, most of life is….just because. However, I have concluded that from Zach’s compulsive nature, most of his obsessions are “must because's” for him. So we grow patients, you know, those rare nerve endings that can take a licking and keep on ticking? Yep, those tender whips.<br />
He climbs back into bed; I’ve gotten his movie and computer up and running, I say goodnight and haul my goose fleshed body up the stairs and back to bed.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>4:00, THE WORD</b></span> “diaper” hits sleep dulled eardrums. I feet-fumble-stumble down the stairs and into his room, his diaper is hugging his knees. He wants it off. The heavy insides do a back-flip to the floor. I am so overly grossed out right now….., but there is no stopping him, and there’s a huge cow pie, aka “Zach-pie” on his clean rug! He’s about to put his butt on his sheets, no time for medical gloves…darn those must’s, those must’s, those must’s!! I grab a few wipes from the container beside his bed and do a quick swipe, good, but not good enough. I don gloves, working quickly to clean him up, fit him to a new diaper and powder, lots of powder (all the while hoping the poop angel kept the sheets clean) and then….it’s the same routine as before, kitchen, water, dig in bucket, back to bed. Poop angel fail….I wipe the bed with a handful of wipes… I’m not in the mood to change sheets at 4:am; his bed has been changed four times in the last four days. He’s up for the day. I am not. He’s back in bed with cookies. I'm back in bed fighting a hot flash and begging sleep to come.<br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6od96RvK9W7FleWZR_9eJFuSqdeKotgTizsrvWqrH_vCxwfzX8STN-9dsVX60bUdkTMjh45wz9gShlsMnLWi53zy_BlIbG90Wi2kmuPjX78nDa60fHcZrUBYeVx7ZQfMExC15svB80OX0/s1600/photo+copy+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6od96RvK9W7FleWZR_9eJFuSqdeKotgTizsrvWqrH_vCxwfzX8STN-9dsVX60bUdkTMjh45wz9gShlsMnLWi53zy_BlIbG90Wi2kmuPjX78nDa60fHcZrUBYeVx7ZQfMExC15svB80OX0/s320/photo+copy+3.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach’s bed at 7:am after hours of playtime.</td></tr>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">6:30, EXERCISE BIKE</span></b> for interval training; Web has been out in his wood shop working since 4:00; Zach has every book from his bookshelf on his bed along with every ball from the closet and every stuffed animal from the bin that sets on his toy shelf. His bed looks like the city dump (cleaner and smells better…today anyway). I am reading, <a href="https://www.blakesnyder.com/zencart/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=1">Save The Cat!</a>, sweating profusely, hoping that the ride will pump my sleep heavy legs to life and that the read will glue my hinder parts to my desk chair. I get coffee when I complete twenty grueling minutes! Coffee!!!<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>7:00, </b></span> Coffee. Wait, I meant, <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">COFFEE!!!!</span></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>8:00, ...AND DAD BEGINS</b></span> Zach’s morning routine. Books are read, tickles are given (if Zach is in the mood to be tickled, otherwise…. “no-koko!"). Steam boils from the shower; towels, toothbrush ready, diaper and clothes set out…they are ducks in a pond; water everywhere: I draw, crush, and suck his meds and supplements into syringes and prepare his gluten, egg, dairy, peanut free breakfast.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjstJYPq3Yvi0JNzj5KVc_wuBP9cwcJjnWcnnH9iLE8mjnr9WG3htZg0JiM4OYT5P0Wnl0VWYSJ6iabX8BMM_wBq58pKnIsNqFWRBs0cup59VHL77T1O25yLpweWrkWwBWFDYj8Q5XTiVlH/s1600/IMG_1447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjstJYPq3Yvi0JNzj5KVc_wuBP9cwcJjnWcnnH9iLE8mjnr9WG3htZg0JiM4OYT5P0Wnl0VWYSJ6iabX8BMM_wBq58pKnIsNqFWRBs0cup59VHL77T1O25yLpweWrkWwBWFDYj8Q5XTiVlH/s200/IMG_1447.jpg" height="200" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anti-seizure meds and supplements have to <br />
be liquid.<br />
Pill swallowing is a "mustn’t”.<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">8:20, I GIVE ZACH HIS MEDS</span><span class="Apple-style-span">, same place (near the kitchen sink), same position everyday, must because.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;"> </span>His computer is moved to the table along with his toys. Web sits at the table with him, shape toys, photo recognition, popsicle sticks in the slot….till Zach has had his fill. Even more coffee.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylHkaotJxDbv0TJoLzF6AIZ9xX2rohBdzJgSdimO4mH2U8HsaH8CziBiSTDHJYEFBKJldMQk2EIdZ5ugQaGwXzQlAEIRxmQbAjykgQsCZu5sXi3LnEf1r8ISCIBEbQ8yWtV9qOT86T8Jt/s1600/Web+and+Zach+playing+toys.++Hannah%2527s+hand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylHkaotJxDbv0TJoLzF6AIZ9xX2rohBdzJgSdimO4mH2U8HsaH8CziBiSTDHJYEFBKJldMQk2EIdZ5ugQaGwXzQlAEIRxmQbAjykgQsCZu5sXi3LnEf1r8ISCIBEbQ8yWtV9qOT86T8Jt/s200/Web+and+Zach+playing+toys.++Hannah%2527s+hand.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">8:45, ZACH EATS BREAKFAST</span></b> on the sunken living room stairs (it’s his chosen place to eat his meals, except dinner which he takes on the kitchen floor). Web and I have more coffee and engage in a quick conversation, “what are your plans today?” “How are you feeling?” I love you’s said and “Lets do lunch."<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>9:00 DIAPER</b></span> change, whether he needs it or not, yep…must because.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">9:10, OUTSIDE </span>today we go directly to the yard to play kick-it (a game where multiple balls are kicked from one side of the yard to the other for hours sometimes). He did not want to walk his trail today. Sad.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT9QOewXzuhtoQSFulA8Xg3QjFVa2En1fzBUKmFFeGvWc6b7p0DTdOffijRwKTS7JTmFBn0_IVqRnf0Psdi6w_D9AipsglMeIZGnzqUMBNSx8MYMNkpptlzCRKk_XkmcNovRtRZMOQCsOZ/s1600/cup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT9QOewXzuhtoQSFulA8Xg3QjFVa2En1fzBUKmFFeGvWc6b7p0DTdOffijRwKTS7JTmFBn0_IVqRnf0Psdi6w_D9AipsglMeIZGnzqUMBNSx8MYMNkpptlzCRKk_XkmcNovRtRZMOQCsOZ/s1600/cup.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New cup idea came to me yesterday.<br />
It’s the tiniest things that bring a smile.<br />
Jelly jar, plastic canning jar cap with a<br />
hole drilled into the side. Insert straw.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7YQrOxt1LLg18_8cPoStI_42HdYCY5RS5SMajqM8XTBd1lrkznG0Ty7gbFkQKWERy97XcVzxHg5jHEJ8M4YcnnML7Pvd1hKu-WSurHx4Tbtd5ksjV_ydQVLaVf3XDxVQ8EtIQPjYamXgv/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7YQrOxt1LLg18_8cPoStI_42HdYCY5RS5SMajqM8XTBd1lrkznG0Ty7gbFkQKWERy97XcVzxHg5jHEJ8M4YcnnML7Pvd1hKu-WSurHx4Tbtd5ksjV_ydQVLaVf3XDxVQ8EtIQPjYamXgv/s320/photo.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kick-it in the muddy yard.</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>9:30, INSIDE BRIEFLY</b></span> for more balls and a drink of water.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>10:00, INSIDE, YES, BRIEFLY</b></span> for more balls and a drink of water.<br />
It's Tuesday and from 10:00 to 2:00 we have respite; Aunt Linda. I take a walk, get dressed and delve into this blog.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>10:30, SNACK TIME</b></span> for Zach. He gets his cookies (Oatmeal) reads his books and Farm and Ranch magazines with Aunt Linda. They snuggle on the couch and watch Sesame Street (oddly, I’m jealous, this is my favorite “Zach time").<br />
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<b style="font-size: x-large;">11:30, LUNCH TIME, </b>pork-turkey veggie loaf, apple, baby carrots and pickles.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">12:00, </span>walk down the love trail. Back for another round of kick-it, or two, perhaps three…must because. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNj1UjCLmA6QQlnGT4RKY6oJjFW1oVwhz7im_mCZBCZWhjtYgjjiCnawtwywjVbfDDVbXFhisSgBat0ZHBJ90A28KAP5pWS1e9FBshUTzA757wlogsgvVFQDdysf8rM4zTFt4j4J1YGdg/s1600/Zach+in+bed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNj1UjCLmA6QQlnGT4RKY6oJjFW1oVwhz7im_mCZBCZWhjtYgjjiCnawtwywjVbfDDVbXFhisSgBat0ZHBJ90A28KAP5pWS1e9FBshUTzA757wlogsgvVFQDdysf8rM4zTFt4j4J1YGdg/s200/Zach+in+bed.JPG" height="149" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach waiting for mom to come read<br />
"Aur-aur”.</td></tr>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2:30-3:30, BEDTIME </span></b>routine. We begin by hauling all the balls that have been taken outside for the day inside, two heaping buckets. His computer goes back onto his nightstand, the movie, Homeward Bound is slipped into the dvd player, the blinds and curtains are closed, white noise turned on….every detail is checked, “must because”. Zach removes his own shoes and socks and gets a drink of water. He goes back to bed to remove his pants, drinks more water (which is always done in the kitchen…must because), back to the bedroom to get the toys he wants to sleep with and he climbs into bed pulls the covers up, grabs a book and waits for mom to come read. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-JTE6SlfSGUrn3muM1vsf91vQsRSRQSAk9mPYGLT_49um2_QSM2yFlw_vU3BTBNOtNTDMsVWJjuSEIICZzyWetm-SZTQdjhcHhnBLutqLdfE4rTyP4UOl55Yao8aKs2nuzdLa2xQSpX1/s1600/IMG_0942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-JTE6SlfSGUrn3muM1vsf91vQsRSRQSAk9mPYGLT_49um2_QSM2yFlw_vU3BTBNOtNTDMsVWJjuSEIICZzyWetm-SZTQdjhcHhnBLutqLdfE4rTyP4UOl55Yao8aKs2nuzdLa2xQSpX1/s200/IMG_0942.jpg" height="147" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach’s favorite page in The Tortoise and The Hare. It’s all in the<br />
drawl…"weellll, Slim, do you want Jelly on <br />
that peanut butter?” (you have to have<br />
played the Living Books computer game to understand)<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">3:45, STORIES ARE READ </span>(we’ve been reading the same stories for 17 years (The Tortoise and The Hare, Just Grandma and Me, Arthurs Teacher Trouble and a book of family photos. Today he chose all new books. What’s with that?! This is our time to lie together, talk about his day and we often do EFT (emotional freedom tapping). He loves one particular side of his head tapped. I adore this part of our day; I look forward to laying beside him, his soft hair up against my cheek as we read, laugh and connect telepathically, spiritually. Serenity and peace (more precious than gold) fall heavy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgEVtA9CT-9kG9Uz_P0k2NgkB0GVeVVeEPdxI_SfY4B2pIqNPmYhwYwnMokWTWt4mUwd9Ozo0y7VE6A7pv83z2XyT2vWck1qvuRIQBfxSozylbffuCXmZCK_DSsKS1U0AW3FfWGzGR8tVv/s1600/Zach+eating+in+hallway.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgEVtA9CT-9kG9Uz_P0k2NgkB0GVeVVeEPdxI_SfY4B2pIqNPmYhwYwnMokWTWt4mUwd9Ozo0y7VE6A7pv83z2XyT2vWck1qvuRIQBfxSozylbffuCXmZCK_DSsKS1U0AW3FfWGzGR8tVv/s320/Zach+eating+in+hallway.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner picnic style!</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>4:00 HE TOOK</b></span> his dinner (in the hallway) outside of his room picnic style (this kid knows how to live!).<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">5:00, HE'S ASLEEP. </span></b>(Yes, we have tried putting him to bed later to see if he sleeps in a bit, but no). <br />
Needless to say, it is now 8:30 and I’m thinking tea and horizontal. Web and I, on a typical evening, will be found in bed yawning around 7:00, perhaps watching a movie, or reading with our ceramic buckets of rooibos tea.<br />
<br />
(Common things this day didn’t include, a seizure and a loud meltdown; thankful!)<br />
<br />
Ahhhhh, till 1:30 or 2:00….Good night!<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-9430618036357338352012-04-02T18:03:00.001-07:002014-10-06T15:19:37.591-07:00OATMEAL COOKIES 3-6-9 OMEGA-FIBER SLAM!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>THE BALANCING</b></span> act of clean healthy food, supplements and patience is tough to feng shui. As I mentioned in my last post, rigidity can throw a bucket of cold water on the need to create.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>ABOUT THE TIME</b> </span>I am ready to pull my hair out from the simple human need to veer off the beaten path and begin to wish, cross fingers-legs-toes, pray and hope for any glimpse of new, it happens. Mind you, it might not seem like much to the naked normal eye, but to the bulging eye of the primary care giver, any small movement outside of the worn through; it’s really quite significant.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>THREE MONTHS AGO</b></span> Zach stopped taking his walks down his Love Trail (we’re not very happy about this detour). At first I thought maybe it was just a one week modification to his deep rut brought on by, perhaps, the fact that he didn’t feel well. Three months down this different road, I’m beginning to wonder. No amount of coaxing can get him to run that trail daily! But hey, he’s made a choice on his own and is sticking to it. That’s sorta cool, sort of grown up of him don’t you think?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>OTHER CHANGES</b></span>, a month, or so ago now he put himself on a fast for three days, no water, no food. No fever, no tooth issues (as best we can tell), or mouth sores. We’re still stumped by that fast, but luckily, he is back on track with eating and drinking (though from different cups; they are glass, easy to wash and he gets more water. This is good). <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Since the time change</span>, he has not “forwarded” his sleeping as we’d hoped and prayed, begged and pleaded, instead, he has back-warded it; rather than sliding into the new time and rising at 4:00 a.m. from his old 3:00 a.m. roust, he is chirping at 1:30. Seriously? And, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">is he a VEGAN</span>? His love of meat on his plate his waning. What’s that about? He’s been leaving the meat. He rarely leaves a crumb. There are digestive issues that no amount of pre, or probiotics, enzymes, etc seem to help with, so perhaps that might be the culprit. Still, what do I do…?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>FOR STARTERS-A CONCOCTION, A REVISION</b></span>…3-6-9, it’s a cookie, but not just any cookie. It’s easy to make, but this cookie; it just might change your life. We’re a few weeks into this…stay tuned for more.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>IF YOU FIND IT DIFFICULT</b></span> to get your child to take their supplements and eat enough to get their much needed fiber and omegas, here’s a sneaky twist. I’ve posted an oatmeal cookie recipe in earlier blogs and though it is a healthy treat (for the most part, minus the sweetener) this is a modification to that adored old friend, The Gluten Free Oatmeal Cookie.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>I CALL IT</b> </span>Oatmeal Cookie 3-6-9: Chai seeds, flax meal, hemp seeds, coconut and pasture butter combined with a healthy array of gluten free, egg free and peanut free ingredients give us our omegas, fiber and other benefits in a delicious cookie. He loves them! So do I. <br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>THE FOOD ISSUE, WELL, THAT</b></span> seems solved. Now if I could just come up with a sleep inducing cookie and instant exercise powder we’d have this caregiver thing wrapped and could market it in cellophane baggie.<br />
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Preheat oven to 350 degrees<span id="goog_1400961889"></span><span id="goog_1400961890"></span><br />
<br />
In a glass measuring cup add<br />
9 tbls spoons warm water<br />
3 tbls chia seeds<br />
1 tsp organic vanilla<br />
1 cup raisins<br />
soak all for 1 hour<br />
<br />
In the mixing bowl combine (I use a KitchenAid Pro 6)<br />
1 cup softened pasture butter (even if your child is dairy free, pasture butter should not bother them)<br />
1 cup coconut palm sugar and either<br />
1 cup brown sugar, or 3/4 cup honey<br />
1/3 cup flax meal<br />
1/3 cup hulled hemp seeds<br />
1/3 cup unsweetened shredded coconut<br />
2 1/2 cups gluten free flour (I like Namaste Perfect Blend)<br />
1 tsp salt<br />
1 tsp cinnamon<br />
2 tsp soda<br />
2 cups oatmeal<br />
1/2 cup dried cranberries, or raisins (optional)<br />
3/4 cups chopped pecans, or walnuts (optional)<br />
*may add more water, teaspoon by teaspoon till the dough is playable and feels somewhat sticky.<br />
<br />
Drop heaping tablespoon of dough onto parchment lined baking sheet. Bake for 10-12 minutes, remove from cookie sheet after they have cooled for 5 minutes. They may be frozen, or refrigerated (if there are any left at the end of the day). Makes 4 dozen cookies.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-43735901114335199712012-01-29T15:46:00.000-08:002014-10-06T14:59:19.092-07:00Feng Shui Redundancy, The Same Day Over and Over and….<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Redundancy</span> by its very nature negates creativity. Is it even possible to live creatively, when we are stuck within the stifling walls of the same structure, a life-time of Groundhog’s Day (the comedy with Bill Murray) because someone we love, someone we care for has a malady and must live his/her life within the confines of obsessiveness and compulsivity? <br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Daily We Are Handed the Same Experience:</span> The list goes here. It is the same every day. How can we be made new in all this oldness; have sparkle and shine? It has been said many times to those who care for loved ones, '<i>You</i> have to have a life; <i>you</i> deserve a life.’ I understand the remark, but I do have a life. Ultimately, we all need to iron out the life we’ve been given, not fear what may happen, or want a different life for a loved one faced with caregiving. It’s true that sometimes my life feels confining, less free than I’d like, but that is only an illusion. I am as free as anyone. Freedom doesn’t always include mobility. Freedom isn’t the ability to do what you want, it is the ability to do what’s right.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Most days</span> I love my life and wouldn’t want any other and I find it extremely purposeful and artful…and free. I have <i>learned</i> to love my life and the Life Giver.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">This Ground Hog’s Day</span> (the movie) existence has been my reality for nigh on seventeen years now and like Bill Murray’s character, I have figured out a thing or two, I am still excited when something new presents itself no matter how small; a new way to enjoy the same old thing because….this is my life: Groundhog’s Day'ish. My eyes look for ways to add color to the gray of redundancy. We can be swooshed right into a new day, a new time when we look through open-thankful eyes. The situation stays the same, I change, sometimes the situation changes, but always, we should remain playable to being transformed into the new creation God envisioned when He began re-creating us in that, <i>“look with your whole being (behold)! all things become new”,</i> way. This isn’t just a nice saying, I have found this to be a living truth.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">For Instance,</span> two days ago my son and I were outside playing in the frosty yard, as we do every day rain, snow, sheets of ice etc…sometimes it is as simple as looking at what I have and being thankful; a view, the ability to do what I do, a day without rain, steam rising from a hot mug of something (I was very thankful for the nearly full length Patagonia down coat my kind husband bought for me this winter). The scene was the same as every day, but I saw and appreciated what was there. Sometimes something new needs to be dropped into “same”. Say, a small mobile iPod speaker, now we are showered with inspiration as we kick balls from one side of the yard to the other; same was new. I recently found it astounding that such a small thing as a new kind of tea can bring on a wide smile.<br />
<a href="http://s7d5.scene7.com/is/image/Teavana/X01%2010%2010%2002_d?$stmb$" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;">www.teavana.com</span><img border="0" src="http://s7d5.scene7.com/is/image/Teavana/X01%2010%2010%2002_d?$stmb$" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(211, 211, 211); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(211, 211, 211); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(211, 211, 211); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(211, 211, 211); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px;" /></a><br />
The soothing blend of rooibos tea and coconut drifting under my nose can take me mile after blissful mile down the road of boring. Old made new because I choose to see blessings, I look, I behold what God is creating inside of me. I might go my whole life without looking; observing with my body-soul-spirit what is really going on behind the curtain of my skin.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Today a Little Glitter</span> in my gray, I got up early to work on this post and found our boy sitting up in bed with his entire library piled upon his brown bedspread with a Berenstine Bear book open before him as he worked through the stack; a change up from the confines of the usual; sitting on the floor and playing with his bin of stuffed animals. Shine and a mom smile.<br />
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<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">We Were Created</span> with an inborn desire to make art; clean crazy creative, with our minds, with our eyes and our hands. When we can’t read a book because we are tending; ear buds and an audio book work like magic. When we can’t paint, or write…we study with our eyes, build stories in our head and take audio notes on our iPhone. If we can’t bring culinary desires to fruition, we plan a gourmet meal in our head, lay out how the table will look with an antique table cloth, wooden candleholders and wheat grass as centerpiece and think…someday soon. There are ways to enjoy redundant, there are always ways to enjoy life. <br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Open Wide the Eyes of Our Faces</span>, of our hearts and minds. I’d love to know what you come up with. Creating and creativity of all kinds make me feel alive. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-48424932483439947732011-12-07T11:59:00.000-08:002011-12-07T18:15:05.986-08:00The Weight of Glory<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9OuxjS4dg5R_0eRQ16dt2feP0yAwh5lKU79qIDHmFAD_SBS7_9TOxvXqfbTRgwbS_IQZVvaqMdEes4XhocUkBpDyQNGw9f-R7QDOolqWfLAPWR7o61yrHGgHgyWS1MUtsl-yGHizDTLsS/s1600/IMG_2475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9OuxjS4dg5R_0eRQ16dt2feP0yAwh5lKU79qIDHmFAD_SBS7_9TOxvXqfbTRgwbS_IQZVvaqMdEes4XhocUkBpDyQNGw9f-R7QDOolqWfLAPWR7o61yrHGgHgyWS1MUtsl-yGHizDTLsS/s200/IMG_2475.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Plain old weeds take on a ravishing beauty, <br />
impossible without the brilliant weight <br />
that glistens on their bent backs.</span></td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I</span>t isn’t Christmas day. It isn’t just any old day. It feels like Christmas has finally been born inside of me. There is an opening, expanding, light exploding in my dark well.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">O</span>n our morning walk today we see cold that hangs, frost that bites and looks like tiny thorns. Zach runs and I notice his beauty, this burdened one, who walks with thorns of glory every day. My son, with no choice runs through life with Light shining forth. He shown with God’s glory before the weight... and now... after and I am humbled.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">M</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">y insides come alive with the thoughts of Higher Than I.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“Nature bends under the weight of My glory.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Isn’t it beautiful?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This is how I see you as you bear the frosty weight of My Glory.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Beautiful.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I sing, hover over you with joy and light.”</span></span></span></td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Z</span>ach plays anny-anny-over the goat barn, Web and I catch. Ahhhhh, I say. I see. Breath leaves me. A cloud of light hovers in front of me. If I will bend, bow to Your hand taking what my Enemy meant for evil, you will transform it into glistening light, then Glory has done its job? If I choose to hide in the dark; anger, bitterness, depression and fear then the glory is hidden under that bucket of darkness? Yes? Will I shine?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A tree flocked by God’s hand. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">G</span>lory!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">H</span>e echo’s my yes and says amen and I realize that I hear Him more often now. I am fuller. Full of Light, full of Joy. I am quieter, I am asking for Light to come in, the Three In One to impregnate me with fullness of Light and I want Him to be full of me. To birth the kingdom here on earth. To be inside of this Hugeness, of this Light is to always walk in truth. Yes. I want to hide inside of The Happy Three; to be lit with Light, and remember this season of His earthly birth, that by never allowing my Glow to be covered by darkness I am one little candle in His world lit by Glory and I warm the hearth of Heaven. I have the ability to make Light smile. *smile*<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">J</span>oy to the world comes through little old me, little old you.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-24215852757048456492011-10-12T18:26:00.000-07:002014-10-06T14:49:28.414-07:00FENG SHUI WILD: A WEDDING IN THE MOUNTAINS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">FENG SHUI WILD: VACATION, plus OUR DAUGHTER’S BIG OL’ MOUNTAIN WEDDING</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Sometimes</b></span> it’s not kind to make someone who has autism be a part of something big and loud because you want them there. We struggled through this one as a family. It was big time hard for mama. I cried saying goodbye to Zach, I dripped snot driving down interstate 5 and warbled out my heart felt sadness to my eldest daughter Hannah who gave me one ear as she sat in the passenger’s seat, sympathetic, while tuning the other to my four grandchildren ages six and under strapped into the back seat of the Montero.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>We all</b></span> wanted Zach at our family vacation (the first one he wouldn't attend). We also fought the family wholeness at his sisters Wedding, which Zach wouldn't celebrate with us. But it just wasn’t best for our Zach angel. We keep dragging the poor guy to our cabin at 7,000 feet in elevation and in all of his 20 years, he’s probably enjoyed three, now four…we took him up for some fresh air recently and he enjoyed it, but that’s for another story (never say never; try try again). This year during our family vacation Zach would be home in his comfortable home with a competent respite care giver, playing and sleeping in his deeply entrenched routine. In the end, the MOB needed this. I had much to focus on. Four littles running around a deep northern California lake and a wedding to navigate, though half of my heart and mind remained in Southern Oregon. I’m sure my family noticed. I was slightly vacant at times and they kept offering me glasses of wine, which I refused knowing that MOB dress wasn’t made of stretch material.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>We used</b></span> the finest feng shui artist alive today, God. We also used the talent and creative spirit He dispersed to us, which we then coupled with His creation and here is what we came up with…<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">OUR SPECIAL LAKE, MEDICINE...</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful sky, smooth water, perfect day…<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>A few days</b></span> to soak up some sun and fun before the big day…our annual family vacation. We’ve packed up our children and driven them three hours to our family cabin for twenty-seven years.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Hannah and Steven’s 8th Anniversary the</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">9th of August.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Game time!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A peaceful place...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Bride and groom going for our customary <br />morning mocha boat ride.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Morning silliness</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Julie surf boarding with daddy</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The bride de’stressing on a wake board;<br />hours before the wedding.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The calm before the celebration…</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibC7LgVedGSJGkWif2tgjCNcM3cS3hp6rJZ7FW3Z5cyhixl002sD35_86Dpy2ZhZV4gbZuDAZEIzbVamodyTQ1-iiOtg09XuOioyKVh4vpYc25hi9TKKRO7fKCR5dD2ka5zEhJC78Pz3JA/s1600/Montanna%252C+flower+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibC7LgVedGSJGkWif2tgjCNcM3cS3hp6rJZ7FW3Z5cyhixl002sD35_86Dpy2ZhZV4gbZuDAZEIzbVamodyTQ1-iiOtg09XuOioyKVh4vpYc25hi9TKKRO7fKCR5dD2ka5zEhJC78Pz3JA/s1600/Montanna%252C+flower+girl.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">FEATHER GIRLS...</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpONJxINzk-LNza2gg2eAhyHo4CAW2MDCGo1HN2WtDJIRCKPRZiEWP5vLtjUrKjh54N4ncu0x0mIIsIc3suntfiKcerXzX6eFglO9qaYATotkxh8UsgBeNAorUo0UfaW2NooJ6tOwbJWn/s1600/Julie+Flower+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpONJxINzk-LNza2gg2eAhyHo4CAW2MDCGo1HN2WtDJIRCKPRZiEWP5vLtjUrKjh54N4ncu0x0mIIsIc3suntfiKcerXzX6eFglO9qaYATotkxh8UsgBeNAorUo0UfaW2NooJ6tOwbJWn/s1600/Julie+Flower+girl.jpg" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwLm3xMGJCN9apO0WBxhyphenhyphenJVpYbU4opBleQbvWQb1VbqFZ6uUFeEUliXS1tWBgkWWyl5PyXQfAzjIS8hxv0GpamO41vMoFupLuTQ4ATMIq97OPbPAKtmubi4-om61nBroWYUPWZIH_KduW/s1600/Hannah+and+Tim.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwLm3xMGJCN9apO0WBxhyphenhyphenJVpYbU4opBleQbvWQb1VbqFZ6uUFeEUliXS1tWBgkWWyl5PyXQfAzjIS8hxv0GpamO41vMoFupLuTQ4ATMIq97OPbPAKtmubi4-om61nBroWYUPWZIH_KduW/s1600/Hannah+and+Tim.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sister of the bride and the official ring barer</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlZApq4SGXdHYPPA9EUVVSMJ3dLYv_pAA3p6g187yeh10JBgykCbP18C5EVuaLZqVKwheXQUkP_CeSPLSwKdN48Lxjn5Dxv9JidtXOcXgxN5ip-BVVFRJt-VCkXuBMn1kU_PAtk_BEYBI/s1600/Zoe+and+Cameron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlZApq4SGXdHYPPA9EUVVSMJ3dLYv_pAA3p6g187yeh10JBgykCbP18C5EVuaLZqVKwheXQUkP_CeSPLSwKdN48Lxjn5Dxv9JidtXOcXgxN5ip-BVVFRJt-VCkXuBMn1kU_PAtk_BEYBI/s1600/Zoe+and+Cameron.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Rachel’s childhood bestie and <br />our wedding singer<br /> (and a darn good one at that, check our her new EP, itunes Zoechild)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiKWCJ-7tNEqsHUxGzQIKRj9rsleLrXyZIzO_LZEJNUV8vsr-e1l3Xj7AOKKcLY5lF1ZZiEwGU8egTmpkeod_8s6wPRGkP2EdyM8A_9KLWryqfE_83kj1YCWEPhR6iFHRV6bBW1O0hY5ok/s1600/Wedding%252C+lance+and+christina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiKWCJ-7tNEqsHUxGzQIKRj9rsleLrXyZIzO_LZEJNUV8vsr-e1l3Xj7AOKKcLY5lF1ZZiEwGU8egTmpkeod_8s6wPRGkP2EdyM8A_9KLWryqfE_83kj1YCWEPhR6iFHRV6bBW1O0hY5ok/s1600/Wedding%252C+lance+and+christina.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The maid of honor and Rachel’s YWAM buddy</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The bride’s arrival in a golf cart, driven by <br />the father of the bride</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhis5BQ7XrNnaITN1zLgf9aKkzPHq4z6ST450WHMXzfYU1g-ut3HMl-rXry-u60uaPC2Qnc-34GNtzgxGqWKY2QFiiaUExFJbHtQYB_eLl2NLR4pUTu0xNGKAaxUXE92duk20OcdNRvtDBt/s1600/WebRachelandJuliewaiting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhis5BQ7XrNnaITN1zLgf9aKkzPHq4z6ST450WHMXzfYU1g-ut3HMl-rXry-u60uaPC2Qnc-34GNtzgxGqWKY2QFiiaUExFJbHtQYB_eLl2NLR4pUTu0xNGKAaxUXE92duk20OcdNRvtDBt/s400/WebRachelandJuliewaiting.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Here Comes The Bride…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and a three-year-old feather girl</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">!</span></td></tr>
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The groom sees his bride...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi53o1zv0dR-dDrfkJKzDc_arBBBFr5zMPjNv5FayD622pg8Gv_8xBiegQ7BZmrl1SPUgDakIpNi90t8UFiZlg6KKN9tpSMa8mE_23kuMTmm22hFz2QmCLx2-2lxhWYhoD_pLTSf904Wtxj/s1600/Wedding%252C+Jeremy%252C+trevor+and+rach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi53o1zv0dR-dDrfkJKzDc_arBBBFr5zMPjNv5FayD622pg8Gv_8xBiegQ7BZmrl1SPUgDakIpNi90t8UFiZlg6KKN9tpSMa8mE_23kuMTmm22hFz2QmCLx2-2lxhWYhoD_pLTSf904Wtxj/s400/Wedding%252C+Jeremy%252C+trevor+and+rach.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">What a setting!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPB1swCMxnjhm53Q_sL2lMf-Uc_H7GoXmYxzSgXqybnkOrThq6fpoLox-LO3b5xWDlFpKks1U4B8S8Dp3tBTK5n4PVXhWhaDWUIZnI1And85_8hXIzJJNZANDdGYA1FAM6oflFaVxbLc-/s1600/Prayerjulie%2527sfaceandtrevor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPB1swCMxnjhm53Q_sL2lMf-Uc_H7GoXmYxzSgXqybnkOrThq6fpoLox-LO3b5xWDlFpKks1U4B8S8Dp3tBTK5n4PVXhWhaDWUIZnI1And85_8hXIzJJNZANDdGYA1FAM6oflFaVxbLc-/s400/Prayerjulie%2527sfaceandtrevor.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The parents prayer (with Julie Joy)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimu6aKK9fN3-ExKjD0z4JeC6fK547R3zxJhU9ekyoj3lYvisgjA1swl3amO5GrCez9ZKkZHOWaYs00bLdr0dMA5zHxIE1x8MHqAj23TQxQtFAe51F_im5Re-yYfewQKKmOJlZgXfw1QW2Y/s1600/Zoesinging.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimu6aKK9fN3-ExKjD0z4JeC6fK547R3zxJhU9ekyoj3lYvisgjA1swl3amO5GrCez9ZKkZHOWaYs00bLdr0dMA5zHxIE1x8MHqAj23TQxQtFAe51F_im5Re-yYfewQKKmOJlZgXfw1QW2Y/s320/Zoesinging.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Original songs by Zoechild and Matt Zigines…Beautiful!</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">CELEBRATE CELEBRATE….DANCE TO THE MUSIC...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyRXVcJO1ZtR0wOzA-niIWEJCBperqhfkoWY3TGJJBkM9wvaYgW6SZKpA58DRNyANEOvZtezGCsWRMMQdOOXumKi94i_BrLCnZHAhVOyjSZbzeARszOTqLRqh-moYahStXswgIVDr7JZ79/s1600/wedding%252C+first+dance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyRXVcJO1ZtR0wOzA-niIWEJCBperqhfkoWY3TGJJBkM9wvaYgW6SZKpA58DRNyANEOvZtezGCsWRMMQdOOXumKi94i_BrLCnZHAhVOyjSZbzeARszOTqLRqh-moYahStXswgIVDr7JZ79/s1600/wedding%252C+first+dance.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">First Dance</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfIBhn6HAZKbeRrm83lnLSVXivO7Gq_JurFUx0Ul22PHwSOyqJUYaspJBfZ4WHvhdwnrdNFiiPvAo0GGboz_GFnhq13nkvixyr_NpQdh3B5jF2nBcX_jQwCDJ-9ogZSAVBQ23d7h6l0aOk/s1600/First+dance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfIBhn6HAZKbeRrm83lnLSVXivO7Gq_JurFUx0Ul22PHwSOyqJUYaspJBfZ4WHvhdwnrdNFiiPvAo0GGboz_GFnhq13nkvixyr_NpQdh3B5jF2nBcX_jQwCDJ-9ogZSAVBQ23d7h6l0aOk/s400/First+dance.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Father Daughter Dance</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> We didn’t sink it and nobody fell in!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCS0XS0GR2ogUxqpLVrGQD6V3XC3_hUYH1e-KyxMib5zk2UAQjLNQDHfGgYONMan_DGmhX-yN4lPFEKUDPlCJzVFBl1DbOS2oURFgPDiYpXy1-Fnz0u2CKVp2qwrTu81VuWUXbozaf5lzK/s1600/Wedding%252C+mom+and+daughter+dance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCS0XS0GR2ogUxqpLVrGQD6V3XC3_hUYH1e-KyxMib5zk2UAQjLNQDHfGgYONMan_DGmhX-yN4lPFEKUDPlCJzVFBl1DbOS2oURFgPDiYpXy1-Fnz0u2CKVp2qwrTu81VuWUXbozaf5lzK/s1600/Wedding%252C+mom+and+daughter+dance.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Mother Daughter Dance :)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIMzh_GQDaK6CbWz8_Br2H0QYxHjHJ_oqk8MYHxyczZYT49StyY-xA87KuFOaw-FeW2cpahEoUkBIDfmCbWX0Xs3uvCYgJ7j_4RVdDN0hyphenhyphenGVkEjQeFgAT8dDFTCx1JKkSYHF8jTWcmaE8/s1600/Rachel+and+Uriah%252C+sun+birst.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIMzh_GQDaK6CbWz8_Br2H0QYxHjHJ_oqk8MYHxyczZYT49StyY-xA87KuFOaw-FeW2cpahEoUkBIDfmCbWX0Xs3uvCYgJ7j_4RVdDN0hyphenhyphenGVkEjQeFgAT8dDFTCx1JKkSYHF8jTWcmaE8/s1600/Rachel+and+Uriah%252C+sun+birst.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The bride has a crush on the ring barer!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw06DLtNeKq_YPto-8Znqk_m1GAgaTk67A0aevnfuXtgRFQzF_O6ZCvAngO78KCMo26EVSp24O_tJOSMQ-vq-rUmnpdGrDVnBR20YrCft8vC6EiOxt-qk6EDdODevi6W0aqwX9RicHnrL-/s1600/Wedding%252C+Rachel+and+Christina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw06DLtNeKq_YPto-8Znqk_m1GAgaTk67A0aevnfuXtgRFQzF_O6ZCvAngO78KCMo26EVSp24O_tJOSMQ-vq-rUmnpdGrDVnBR20YrCft8vC6EiOxt-qk6EDdODevi6W0aqwX9RicHnrL-/s1600/Wedding%252C+Rachel+and+Christina.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Buddies</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz5Yn0RN-uHi20b4LNyKHRqSW3iFTSx3iKt961QoL2KdViVBZDuU5091899Yey8YEwz6S71mYeJTEDxTLE91E4sEC7G3a2VjKitgqoAXooDg-o1YzsthELtqiILYsW8RxRyt1HD3OMpTAa/s1600/Fruitkabobs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz5Yn0RN-uHi20b4LNyKHRqSW3iFTSx3iKt961QoL2KdViVBZDuU5091899Yey8YEwz6S71mYeJTEDxTLE91E4sEC7G3a2VjKitgqoAXooDg-o1YzsthELtqiILYsW8RxRyt1HD3OMpTAa/s200/Fruitkabobs.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4eewptgjhOUTSavjJcOCKnqQezQovcoILiCkVRRuWVX0FcTfKOpZp1QhRP7WR7o4m_nTxLcz4xJQP0C1wKwxX2NBFHI7e__QDvV4hyphenhyphen4b15sSkHiQglTe7rchT1GZRiwD6vwEZwz5qmDVd/s1600/Food%2526Winesign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4eewptgjhOUTSavjJcOCKnqQezQovcoILiCkVRRuWVX0FcTfKOpZp1QhRP7WR7o4m_nTxLcz4xJQP0C1wKwxX2NBFHI7e__QDvV4hyphenhyphen4b15sSkHiQglTe7rchT1GZRiwD6vwEZwz5qmDVd/s400/Food%2526Winesign.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Salad, mushrooms, bacon wrapped dates….Mmmmmm</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp17ZcN3WYMAsHwS8iKMHQg866lkuyeRB0_J3JHxd2p_AUE1EXGz534Jzhf8hLr3cdj0aACCRX99xOTiPe-GEFnaBtOtUIBDr4aouIuqtsZrQ9L69x-dMa0_SN25xe_u9-E9qcMgrxsjyx/s1600/Winetable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp17ZcN3WYMAsHwS8iKMHQg866lkuyeRB0_J3JHxd2p_AUE1EXGz534Jzhf8hLr3cdj0aACCRX99xOTiPe-GEFnaBtOtUIBDr4aouIuqtsZrQ9L69x-dMa0_SN25xe_u9-E9qcMgrxsjyx/s320/Winetable.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The beverage table</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI7cwxK46w8nHk5fAHulnuFuBL9ccYTxRHTo4qjPbLugvLYtOlD9t8BEk1xrX8cCWAdnkrvIPk1guJU4g3H7XNgDxE02j6mKMuRZEzGmZi9KNwz3CiBL2vzA6zLKxcNTNDrAuXxxTkq5UV/s1600/Thebike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI7cwxK46w8nHk5fAHulnuFuBL9ccYTxRHTo4qjPbLugvLYtOlD9t8BEk1xrX8cCWAdnkrvIPk1guJU4g3H7XNgDxE02j6mKMuRZEzGmZi9KNwz3CiBL2vzA6zLKxcNTNDrAuXxxTkq5UV/s320/Thebike.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The wedding mascot-vingage tandem</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ArWw_YPioLkoZGe_f04lnUMJY49gRg8weko_fzr7eArgVHbUMttV1xNABiMvNY0WrTEYYeAoWbLzdMe3CUOgh_5f-9jlkDfnzavWH7Y9yeL0lWLEN7Rv6SIVvLs2gupx0mvcUu5KszK9/s1600/Chris%252C+bike+wheelie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ArWw_YPioLkoZGe_f04lnUMJY49gRg8weko_fzr7eArgVHbUMttV1xNABiMvNY0WrTEYYeAoWbLzdMe3CUOgh_5f-9jlkDfnzavWH7Y9yeL0lWLEN7Rv6SIVvLs2gupx0mvcUu5KszK9/s400/Chris%252C+bike+wheelie.jpg" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Enter, best man and the groomsman</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJyTwpjLlxU64xM-fjbrTbREkNZqNgY1jYt3h-1l6c4y9BVQQBo077m7eYYIaLAi3rGzFJNGuLHGLL5WgJCLU1rVfCty3aolzMDDrbl2GTOhaHc47oPbtFqwiRT0jRimfucrHmAASntS7u/s1600/Wedding+food+table.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJyTwpjLlxU64xM-fjbrTbREkNZqNgY1jYt3h-1l6c4y9BVQQBo077m7eYYIaLAi3rGzFJNGuLHGLL5WgJCLU1rVfCty3aolzMDDrbl2GTOhaHc47oPbtFqwiRT0jRimfucrHmAASntS7u/s1600/Wedding+food+table.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One of the the food tables</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ9gEAaGRwYKkop-Ztd_WK538ORMv500o6kh1Ve8ZMXCiU-ADr34kBtdtpeucm6EQfmcN_7tLYHduM6_NYW0vN5c4X8of5EaOq08ssnZ0EKgpjos-X7PuKsQyhb8chyk1J7Sk8mHF7aPE4/s1600/Pies%25232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ9gEAaGRwYKkop-Ztd_WK538ORMv500o6kh1Ve8ZMXCiU-ADr34kBtdtpeucm6EQfmcN_7tLYHduM6_NYW0vN5c4X8of5EaOq08ssnZ0EKgpjos-X7PuKsQyhb8chyk1J7Sk8mHF7aPE4/s320/Pies%25232.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">luscious half-moon fruit pies, by Pennington Farms</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Thi40VxZcMykxzJnZD1VsPqROVRVb67CvWqZKdYqJoHYGJdf8TaVjrAsuwCpjRf3VHwwFX8rQHfbiYD5jSBpy68Af-Pi1DTBc0I1z3OXrX8UqHyf03V2Er2MWV3aJYP58OPyJ3dxtEcM/s1600/Wedding+pie+cutting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Thi40VxZcMykxzJnZD1VsPqROVRVb67CvWqZKdYqJoHYGJdf8TaVjrAsuwCpjRf3VHwwFX8rQHfbiYD5jSBpy68Af-Pi1DTBc0I1z3OXrX8UqHyf03V2Er2MWV3aJYP58OPyJ3dxtEcM/s400/Wedding+pie+cutting.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The cutting of the “apple pie” (thanks Pennington Farms)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIN9D96MahfTH7ceCWvmhV_1lkOCYUFMcg9L6qfptY_nesHBkc4MZWV3d1oxgcnTZ00YF43z5BYQo3uF1z7Ygg4mwbil-6XMxYSEOPNWPEn63XmGx7RVrGCfVwzV-nVLLRz6JsKGpkNkn7/s1600/Wedding%252C+lights+from+cabin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIN9D96MahfTH7ceCWvmhV_1lkOCYUFMcg9L6qfptY_nesHBkc4MZWV3d1oxgcnTZ00YF43z5BYQo3uF1z7Ygg4mwbil-6XMxYSEOPNWPEn63XmGx7RVrGCfVwzV-nVLLRz6JsKGpkNkn7/s400/Wedding%252C+lights+from+cabin.jpg" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Time To Go</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_DifYvSGwpyvYFXzRH5ISin7zBSUDrVHiUApshDv0Tg-aELNYMyGBphPDur64k5rZ7cOD38BqcGbDsibnum5A5qb3OSsZb4RvEuZf8iDuAzb_9b_Sh337mhxPAA4aDuCFHfEnFDBaiV2/s1600/Just+married%252C+faces+in+window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_DifYvSGwpyvYFXzRH5ISin7zBSUDrVHiUApshDv0Tg-aELNYMyGBphPDur64k5rZ7cOD38BqcGbDsibnum5A5qb3OSsZb4RvEuZf8iDuAzb_9b_Sh337mhxPAA4aDuCFHfEnFDBaiV2/s1600/Just+married%252C+faces+in+window.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">JUST MARRIED!!</span></td></tr>
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HOME SWEET HOME!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cW8HCtgNwRQuWbOXOnB7FWCC-tBVEmXZh2Yu9G7dEJgZMLCDL7ye8GDi5khfTAZ7s7PZCtWuyacIPdBfkdlckC8egdHvWl9MUSr-TBoIZdrx8W1BVr0OILRxcYntXp4pP5RF1lzMt1zz/s1600/Family+photo+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cW8HCtgNwRQuWbOXOnB7FWCC-tBVEmXZh2Yu9G7dEJgZMLCDL7ye8GDi5khfTAZ7s7PZCtWuyacIPdBfkdlckC8egdHvWl9MUSr-TBoIZdrx8W1BVr0OILRxcYntXp4pP5RF1lzMt1zz/s400/Family+photo+3.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Home two days after the wedding. The family is all together in one place. <br />Mama loves it when this happens!<br />(Zach really didn’t want his picture taken)</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-51589821175853465492011-09-14T15:43:00.000-07:002014-10-06T14:44:40.947-07:00HOW TO FENG SHUI FLYING SOLO-WHAT A DAY LOOKS LIKE WHEN DAD IS AWAY<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">THREE DAYS WITHOUT DAD-WHAT’LL WE DO? FENG SHUI—!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZFxW3VqbfiYytY0uQxUri6UQjdqtm8PDox3i7_sUEXFDTTPI8BppFB530soWrVNI3R2cXxOj5vVpeXjVQuzMc8YnFY3uJMnY6D7AC8lV_LPdE413-SV61f3uYQC87PtuxOMvR7_Tt3ZEK/s1600/IMG_1993.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZFxW3VqbfiYytY0uQxUri6UQjdqtm8PDox3i7_sUEXFDTTPI8BppFB530soWrVNI3R2cXxOj5vVpeXjVQuzMc8YnFY3uJMnY6D7AC8lV_LPdE413-SV61f3uYQC87PtuxOMvR7_Tt3ZEK/s200/IMG_1993.jpg" height="200" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach stuck on the stairs with two of<br />
his favorite kick-it balls</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Dad</span> just left. The house is quiet. Zach has had three seizures these past two days. The huge bug eyed monster of “alone” is staring back at me; a bit intimidating. Zach is stuck and confused, he’s setting on the stairs, it’s almost 1:00 p.m. and he just finished his breakfast; no walk today, no kick it either. Mom has had no breakfast save three cups of coffee and one jasmine pearl green tea. Lunch thus far, a handful of sunflower seeds and a banana...<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I anticipate</span> this will be an uneventful day, but I’ve imagined that before and things happen; unexpected interruptions and Zach’isms no amount of planning can accommodate. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What I’d like</span> to do; get a cup of tea, read and study, write, watch a movie, concoct some gooey gourmet food, eat chocolate and ice cream, curl up on the couch for a nap, take a nice slow walk in the sunshine and go directly to bed with a good book…Life, on the other hand, has asked me to care for the “least of these” as though he were Christ himself. This time, I will choose Life rather than be self indulgent; I can care for me in the midst of life lived abundantly.<br />
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…<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">An</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">hour later</span>….My gourmet lunch today…it came to consists of cold raw milk poured over Nature’s Path Heritage Flakes. Rather than hunching over the counter and jamming soup spoonful after scoop into my mouth, I sat at the kitchen bar and ate like a normal person, albeit somewhat ravenously and with milk dripping off the end of my chin. I had to stop myself, an entire half-gallon of raw milk, as well as a newly opened box of cereal almost vanished...<br />
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…<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">At</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2:00 p.m.</span>, Zach is beginning his bedtime routine. He, with his very sleepy eyes, is covered up in his freshly changed double bed with a plastic container of foam numbers and letters open before him. He goes through this routine every night picking just the right number, shape or letter’s to take to bed with him. Tonight he has reclined to do this very important chore that is usually done hanging off the side of the bed. Apparently his energy level is on par with mine; not high enough to lean, or hunch.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I will go</span> in and read Zach his bedtime stories soon, he may, or may not finish his very early dinner, watch a movie in bed and fall asleep. I presume my evening will follow this pattern very closely; although, after consuming such large amounts of cereal, my early dinner may be popcorn popped in coconut oil, topped with sea salt and a fresh, high quality (light-yellow in color) brewers yeast along with…perhaps a few ounces of dark chocolate.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">soundtrack to Anne Of Green Gables</span> is tinkling in the background-I stand at my front door and gaze across our very warm valley on this September day where Extreme Home Makeover is wrapping up yet another marvelous projects for a family in our area with not one, but two biological autistic children, the McPhails. Now that is some serious feng shui! I sigh holding my mug of tea, there is a lot of good out there as well as in here. We are not alone and really nice things happen to brighten life here and there. A cup of tea, a view and a comfy chair go along way in my world.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">After Zach falls asleep</span>, I’d like to think that I will put on my grandmother’s apron and toss together some random ingredients and make myself a "fun healthy for me" meal, pour myself a small glass of wine and treat myself to a quiet simple dish eaten in reflection and solitude and then (if it was tasty) I would post the recipe with this blog. We’ll see. I laid awake for three hours last night (raging hot flashes) and then at 1:30 a.m. tended a very post-ictal young man. I wish I were bionic, but alas, I am wrapped in real flesh with warm blood coursing through my veins. I pat my, full of Heritage Flakes belly, bed I think won’t come fast enough...<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">…Three</span> hours later, Zach slid out of bed and is setting on the kitchen floor with his untouched supper, his water cup and the foam toys he picked out; enter the unexpected…he is stuck…will he eat, will bedtime ever come? Will I get that quiet house ‘er?<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">6:00 p.m.</span>, I hear little rabbit nibbling sounds behind the butcher block…hope springs!…<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Fast rabbit, </span>6:15 he’s done eating. It’s<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span>finally quiet; wish Web were here to enjoy the sunset and a glass of riesling with me. Pj’s, glasses perched on nose, iced rooibos tea and some reading it is!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Day two…</span>Zach slept till 4:40 a.m., this is a very good miracle! So it wasn’t 6:00 a.m., it was better than the normal 2:30 a.m. *I feel rested-I feel good-I feel ready to care as I should*. The fuel behind this happy dance is that I’m aware how I feel most days. Thank the living Life for gracing our night with much needed sleep! Shower for Zach (though I am still in my pj's), meds and supplements in Zach (though my supplements lay on the counter), breakfast made for Zach (no breakie for mom), coffee into me….toy time! <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Whatever</span> this day holds, I’m ready to do my part, as Web/Dad teaches a group at Sun River about the powerful meaning of christian marriage. Thus far the buzz is, it has been well received and just what the body needs to hear.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2:00</span> p.m.-One hour to the Extreme Home Makeovers “Move That Bus!” How wonderful for this deserving family!!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">3:00</span> p.m. and they’ve most likely “moved that bus”. I think I can hear the cheering and tears from my hilltop; perhaps just in Spirit. Go McPhails!! Bedtime for Zach. Those seizures can take a lot out of a young man. Mom is going to study and write; maybe post this blog.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Second day</span> Foodie in the kitchen, while Zach snores on the couch for two hours.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUixl3CXgGjjJWFiV9DZ_YuFH4VyYR4zFoiCmZ5rmSfrgU6RoM6d0ZE6HBJLVPLV8TZHfTOffvwfiFiTu_MTyq4DeaT9jbb1tQebNVIpj170HwIEs7EKG38334WSUVVpO4YKB9LgChAvVN/s1600/SWCDip+with+chip.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUixl3CXgGjjJWFiV9DZ_YuFH4VyYR4zFoiCmZ5rmSfrgU6RoM6d0ZE6HBJLVPLV8TZHfTOffvwfiFiTu_MTyq4DeaT9jbb1tQebNVIpj170HwIEs7EKG38334WSUVVpO4YKB9LgChAvVN/s1600/SWCDip+with+chip.JPG" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><b>Southwest Chicken Dip</b></span></div>
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4 chicken breasts cooled, cooked and shredded, or chopped</div>
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1 tsp kosher salt</div>
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1/2 cup chopped cilantro</div>
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4 green onions chopped</div>
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1/2 sweet white onion</div>
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1 avocado chopped finely</div>
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1 4oz can diced green chilies</div>
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1 4oz can shoepeg corn</div>
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1 4 oz can mexican corn (or for the canned corn, cut corn off of three ears roasted corn[leave husks in tact, soak ears in a large tub of cold water for 2-6 hours, roast in husk on barbecue. Peal and cut the corn off of the cob])</div>
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DRESSING</div>
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1/3 cup soy free Veganaise</div>
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1 Lime, juiced</div>
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1/2 lemon juiced</div>
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dash of cumin</div>
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Mix together and serve with gluten free Beanitos corn free chips. Makes a great light summer meal.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Tomorrow marks</span> day three; four hours of respite, but….oh dear...I have a routine mamo, what an awful way to spend blessed respite hours, but alas it must be done and ’tis better done without a twenty-year-old autistic in tow. Dad will be home tomorrow!! I think we did this!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">OPTIMALLY WHEN GOING IT ALONE, MY FENG SHUI’ED DESIRES LOOK SOMETHING LIKE THIS</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">—</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuAszhdDdN1m9SeWArvRwYtSJNFfJJy8U0w5ARdfSMqrLCTjrioV4inAeVshxHjCwPtlaa7sneUyJytwC5tn0L3FqVRzb9GeUfQy-WiC9hmoDC5HoujPYwqaxqnmz7CcQsiFi-4nUkaRWW/s1600/IMG_3665.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuAszhdDdN1m9SeWArvRwYtSJNFfJJy8U0w5ARdfSMqrLCTjrioV4inAeVshxHjCwPtlaa7sneUyJytwC5tn0L3FqVRzb9GeUfQy-WiC9hmoDC5HoujPYwqaxqnmz7CcQsiFi-4nUkaRWW/s200/IMG_3665.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kick-it</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">There</span> would be no seizures. And one of the days, we would have a long stint of respite care. I’d call ahead and book myself an hour long massage and a pedicure at spa and schedule lunch at the Dragonfly with my sisters, or a friend. I would have saved enough money to go to my favorite used clothing store, Avant Garb in Ashland-just to look, or maybe I’d find that desired thing-a pair of black cowgirl boots with flair-then I’d loop my purse over my shoulder and lolly-gag along the streets of the very picturesque pre-autumn sun-filled Ashland, Oregon, with a cup of joe from Noble Coffee.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM_Txj2RuF0uBb_IUpyxRsnkw8Tcj8BryzkY9oaCqg0ELSU6SJjQj-I2hToC4uTv_oYqblpyB52ZEyhbmd2Uv0GidyrM3iwX0WnoL_Ju6Ofd2lz4-46nMgTF_pdOJHwYWR-omUc75tqRzY/s1600/IMG_1069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM_Txj2RuF0uBb_IUpyxRsnkw8Tcj8BryzkY9oaCqg0ELSU6SJjQj-I2hToC4uTv_oYqblpyB52ZEyhbmd2Uv0GidyrM3iwX0WnoL_Ju6Ofd2lz4-46nMgTF_pdOJHwYWR-omUc75tqRzY/s200/IMG_1069.jpg" height="200" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach on his run/walk</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tljzP3S3mXGfDY-fhNE81iZyLIfOiAtkCUSBr6PlD_esKtQ5t662KiP68yV_9K6SmPlpkDollu13XO38MOezImCNfPlBuQdS3XavLmc4v0kPm8S0voEyIi_LGFdd8QxhjhwUVWkunarr/s1600/Zach+on+couch%252C+b+%2526+W.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tljzP3S3mXGfDY-fhNE81iZyLIfOiAtkCUSBr6PlD_esKtQ5t662KiP68yV_9K6SmPlpkDollu13XO38MOezImCNfPlBuQdS3XavLmc4v0kPm8S0voEyIi_LGFdd8QxhjhwUVWkunarr/s200/Zach+on+couch%252C+b+%2526+W.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">chair time</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Zach</span> would be happily playing kick-it in the yard with one of his lovely respite care givers. They would fix him his favorite noon meal (organic hot dogs, pickles and organic strawberries and a banana), take him for his midday walk/run and play toy-toys with him on the couch and read, Winnie The Pooh and Tigger Too, his favorite book. He would be clapping, bouncing like Tigger and wearing a smile from ear to ear all day long.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">After</span> a quick trip to the Ashland Food Coop to snatch up a few of my favorite items, chocolate, salami and cheese, a nice red wine and perhaps a warm freshly baked baguette to go with. Zach would welcome me home happily and I, I would be glad to be home on our quiet hilltop. He and I would have some time to play in the yard, me with my sparkling lemonade, before the onset of his bedtime routine. I’d fix dinner for him and place it on the plate prettily, put him to bed, give him the royal treatment; movie, dinner in bed, books read, a good melon scratch and some time beside him on the pillow, head to head-love pouring from one noggin to the other.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKy_Mpf-UIPJ0Ma4gcu1FSSQzv6QRcUjHaF8BnqYRlVG0t8QFajIi2Q_8oo3RllBgBwNB0UPS6-djZb3swUlgzMCG8O4M58g8BipeODq5-pet37N3Rmc3zp_3zPcB6YwWBuslSNMRyQT8b/s1600/IMG_2302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKy_Mpf-UIPJ0Ma4gcu1FSSQzv6QRcUjHaF8BnqYRlVG0t8QFajIi2Q_8oo3RllBgBwNB0UPS6-djZb3swUlgzMCG8O4M58g8BipeODq5-pet37N3Rmc3zp_3zPcB6YwWBuslSNMRyQT8b/s200/IMG_2302.JPG" height="149" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everyone should have a tea set and a <br />
teatime, or two in their day.</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I’d</span> click my ruby red slippers and soothing music would begin, maybe a little Jack Johnson, pour a little boysenberry iced tea into a pretty cup, or perhaps some wine, arrange my, no doubt, colorful dinner on a white stoneware plate while doing a little jig, put on a good chick-flick, or pick up a good book, perhaps <i>thee</i> Good Book and curl up on my very soft brown couch and enjoy a spot of serenity. I’d hear Zach snoring softly in the monitor. The house would be very quiet; I’d lock it up and wander up the stairs, climb between two white line dried cotton sheets and Zach and I would sleep till 6:00am without waking. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Feng Shui, what it boils down to</span>-making the best of what we have; we scoot unpleasant out the door and replace it with helpful and pleasant and with the mind, we turn all happenings around till we find the good spot. Happy’er life!<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Coming soon, In Pictures-One Week Feng Shui’ed-Our Family Vacation and a Big Ol’ Mountain Wedding and right on those high heels, The Healing Laughter of Sister Time.</span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-857444340001163842011-08-24T16:22:00.000-07:002014-10-06T14:36:29.759-07:00When dark clouds come, how do you Feng Shui that flung pooh?<div style="text-align: left;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho3p-2NDV4AxK8wsY3zYAgxDeWfs6hoGZyutlwmoIHLNkjQHfgTdA5tltnZSAShPwMa5TOpddiMIYzfDpQFn2hbm5guza_8UsQ7VY82VBzTMXKfx2kOaHp93Gw2JljQlls7DdFOfnQW5N0/s1600/Drying+Lavender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho3p-2NDV4AxK8wsY3zYAgxDeWfs6hoGZyutlwmoIHLNkjQHfgTdA5tltnZSAShPwMa5TOpddiMIYzfDpQFn2hbm5guza_8UsQ7VY82VBzTMXKfx2kOaHp93Gw2JljQlls7DdFOfnQW5N0/s320/Drying+Lavender.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Drying lavender we picked from <br />
Shasta Lavender Farms. It now adorns our </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> home with its pungent healing aroma.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">D</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">ark days hit us all</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">….It is learning how to feng shui the darkness and distraction, in order that the light might dominate and help reorder, a very full life and keep it on the calmer side, this is a helper to my joy. It takes mind control (taking every thought captive), which by now, I should be proficient at, but alas, I am still crafting. For me, it has been learning how to have dominion over useful, but often times dominating distractions such as television and electronics and distracting thoughts (just as God gave Adam and Eve dominion over every living thing in The Garden of Eden [we have the right stuff to do this]). By “this” I mean to take these “things” prisoner as it were (sometimes in our minds, where battles rage) and pull them into the spotlight of Truth. The effect is, rather than being stuffed into a life that feels off, or just not right, a vibrant Life is dumped into my human mold as Light, which colors every corner of my created being. This gives clarity, to make choices based upon the right information. For life lived fully; to grow in love towards Him and those around me. This doesn’t mean that from this point on everything I look at, think about, will be beautiful, but rather, what dominates is indeed shown in its true light and more easily categorized; are my thoughts useful to my situation, or do I need to capture them and bring them into the light. Some </span><span style="font-size: small;">dissipate in The Light and others are revealed and used, or are prayerfully considered in order that they might be dealt with properly.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFBxYqYKfSxGvhZj_D2Yog1f5jT9MxT81pQxq-FgMpgVo05e2xvs2aGjgG85JvsZQmvQZaa96nRHTDHnfAfUJTuh-tmFCOLGfmQYpE-ZB8_Hz7jcPrxuRRoQCRHG8VfMh_AC1JczzmVFe/s1600/IMG_2247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFBxYqYKfSxGvhZj_D2Yog1f5jT9MxT81pQxq-FgMpgVo05e2xvs2aGjgG85JvsZQmvQZaa96nRHTDHnfAfUJTuh-tmFCOLGfmQYpE-ZB8_Hz7jcPrxuRRoQCRHG8VfMh_AC1JczzmVFe/s200/IMG_2247.jpg" height="149" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dried lavender now hanging <br />
in our home.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Thoughts</span> are things, not random wisps of smoke that vanish (Who Switched Off My Brain, by Dr. Caroline Leaf). Taking them captive and categorizing themas, helpful,<br />
or destructive is a very valuable thing. The non-useful, or destructive get erased as we sleep and the useful are exercised and solidified in that same state. This takes some practice and living in the moment, as they say, as well as being attentive to our thought lives. When I am in transition from a cloudy spot and dragging my spirit and thoughts into the light-it helps to choose something soothing to help roll the head and heart along to that restorative state. Music, art or creating something like a blog; reading a positive, or well written book, something creative that links me to The Creator, or meditating on a healing scripture. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmHw3DWhsRq9yVq01zKMGooDrIXFI5R1VJNsd3dD0MlPM49Wl4I1MjfBXzjkf51LVBteylk54W1VZ2Gx6DkerR9B_gHQ7plirRGWIM8fbmb8L2VBOwObijjnBZaf_FWQ7HNCvSmpoR3y5/s1600/2+vases+of+Lavender.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmHw3DWhsRq9yVq01zKMGooDrIXFI5R1VJNsd3dD0MlPM49Wl4I1MjfBXzjkf51LVBteylk54W1VZ2Gx6DkerR9B_gHQ7plirRGWIM8fbmb8L2VBOwObijjnBZaf_FWQ7HNCvSmpoR3y5/s320/2+vases+of+Lavender.JPG" height="238" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noticing beauty adds light</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Restoration</span> is a word I am in love with. I like to fix run down things and make them beautiful and it takes me a good bit of time to adjust when anything jagged comes into my smooth world, especially if I can’t make it glisten. Bad news I categorize as broken. I don’t know why, but it scratches me up, I take it personally. It takes going to The Giver of Life for the situation and for my own pricked bleeding emotions, that causes my heart to remember why it was created and how it was created. Only then is the heavy burden eased allowing my life to return to its normal, healthy God centered light, so that I might tend Zach and my family from the positive, the beautiful spaces that lend themselves to healing. Oh how I love the peace of faith, of knowing the real God who sees all and knows all, who cries, feels and holds His children through difficult times and laughs with us during celebrations! Our daughter Rachel was just married last weekend and how I felt the smile of God on that union and that event. I also feel His heart break and tears raining down on Zach’s situation. He feels, I feel…we are becoming one, He understands me, though I am heartbroken to say, I hardly know the vast, I AM; what an adventure lies ahead.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Life,</span> the Giver thereof keeps my load light and balanced; I start adjusting the weights with things I am picking up along the way and then "whoop-whoop-woah" as my cowboy daddy would say, I’m all over the road with legs of jello. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Heart </span>feeling is how I operate. I’ve noticed that I seem more pensive than most. I felt…different growing up. I was often teased as being a daydreamer, when in fact, everything, every word that came into my world I mulled over and over in my brain like a rock tumbler till it came out smooth and slick. I have become okay with the fact that God is my manufacturer and this is how He made me to operate. It has been a help in the way I tend my family, but especially the everyday chore of tending Zach. I have rounded the corner of my sensitivities by thinking on good things, Philippians 4:8 has been a section of living-salvation for me. Every situation can be sweetened with positive, helpful thinking. Thinking on things that are honest, just, and pure and of good report seem to be a much better way to keep ones mind on The Good One and balance ones world in that, "resting in the Arms" position, if you will. Not that jagged, sour things should never enter our world (we all have difficult things cross our paths), or pray for situations and others who are undergoing hardship, or hurts; that’s body-life, community. It is the living frame of mind I’m talking about; what I do <i>with</i> darkness, or distraction. I want a mind and body that work from the riches of God rather than the poverty and depravity of unregenerate man. Disconnecting, or focusing on the horror of a situation never helped anyone. Engagement, love and prayer, I have found, are <i>not</i> passive.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Good </span>dwells in the world despite all the bad. God made us<i> all</i> to operate best from love, to help, to pray, to bring The Light into every situation. It has been scientifically proven, the human brain and body work best from a place of love, not fear. I believe I can send that Love and Light through my prayers, because most days it is just little old me and Zach up here on the hilltop. I pray for and over a situation while changing a diaper, hanging sheets on the line, or plopping dollops of oat/raisin loaded cookie dough onto parchment paper lined sheets-this gives me a great since of satisfaction. I feel as though I am impacting the situation with rays of Light and Love like some sort of christian cupid.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbrjd6TbeXPmeOxKahTIbvnmITQT9Ic0cTuhHBI1bCEvmmzAfygSNT4DJoJtrre67r8J-aJlVhBfY3Da8HFI0zUs4ZaCcZicpVOy7hnl5tlg_jv1L9xvy58CHoWFtZLE7QZ12cKVU8VWya/s1600/White+sheets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbrjd6TbeXPmeOxKahTIbvnmITQT9Ic0cTuhHBI1bCEvmmzAfygSNT4DJoJtrre67r8J-aJlVhBfY3Da8HFI0zUs4ZaCcZicpVOy7hnl5tlg_jv1L9xvy58CHoWFtZLE7QZ12cKVU8VWya/s200/White+sheets.jpg" height="147" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White sheets drying in the sunshine.</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Light</span> enters, while I’m thinking on Goodness, Creation and that kind of Love that human love is only a shadow of. The kind that cares deeply about the whole person, body, soul and spirit. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Lavender,</span> white sheets hanging in the sunshine and the past two weeks of family and grand babies, a grand high-mountain wedding of a darling daughter, these are some of the good things I have been thinking on today. His smile and His pleasure always show me the way home.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_dS6i2SxK2VRNqHddnCxNFHsSkmQi8DILyKhZp1TYZumY-qxq85BzRqq7OfyCLxCTfy-uHcSNN0_8nRDS3jJXImtch3V5AcAOREFgycF3nTtk69lKVxvNhRcz-c10QVHZmggWUW82GmWZ/s1600/sunset+from+the+hill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_dS6i2SxK2VRNqHddnCxNFHsSkmQi8DILyKhZp1TYZumY-qxq85BzRqq7OfyCLxCTfy-uHcSNN0_8nRDS3jJXImtch3V5AcAOREFgycF3nTtk69lKVxvNhRcz-c10QVHZmggWUW82GmWZ/s320/sunset+from+the+hill.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset Light from Staunton Hill</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">½ cup pasture butter, softened<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">1/3 cup coconut palm sugar, or organic cane sugar<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">4 teaspoons grated organic lemon peel<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">1 cup Namaste, Perfect Blend flour<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">2 tablespoons plus 1-1/2 teaspoons non-gmo cornstarch<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">¼ teaspoon ground mace<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-64252968049357960832011-07-22T17:39:00.000-07:002014-10-06T11:49:44.293-07:00Fun and games; simple toys made at home.Making appropriate toys that our children like to play with. Zach loves it when we take the time out of our day to play with him. It is a wonderful way to bond and relax.<br />
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Zach, like most severely autistic children, likes to play by slipping small things in slots, like under doors, cracks in tables, or through the cracks in the boards on our outdoor deck. <br />
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At first I tried to get him to play more “normal” things, but that seemed to frustrate, so now we actually make up “slip through” toys that encourage color recognition, faces in his life and shapes. We have a shelf full of these handmade toys and “we” play them every morning at the breakfast table and during our afternoon “couch time”. This encourages bonding, touch, eye contact and generalization (which is very difficult for Zach).<br />
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Zach never seems to tire of these games, but some of us do; when <i>I</i> get tired of playing the same thing over and over, I invent a new one by going to ToysRus, the craft store, or I walk the isles in our superstore and gather ideas and supplies to put together something new. Sometimes they are a hit and other times, not so much, like the one I made out of a shoe box, cut up an old ripped little critter book (after replacing it with a new one), pasted and taped the Grandma and Me pictures on the outside, cut holes in the middle and put small whiffle balls inside; or the time I bought counting bears in three sizes and colors, big, middle and little (this is one of his favorite computer games on Millies Math House). I hot glued three bears of different sizes and colors to the top of a plastic container, cut holes in the top with a hot knife (careful) and offered him the colorful hand made toy. He didn’t get it. Oh well, we win some and we loose some.<br />
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I got this idea of making my own toys one Christmas when I couldn’t think of anything to buy Zach that would put a smile on his face. I created a poker chip game by cutting a slot in the top of a tupperware container and filling it with poker chips. This is one of Zach’s favorite games even today, years later. He dumps them out in a large tub, or on the floor and we put them back through the slot. Simple, yes, and this makes him so happy. He is doing something he can do on his own, it’s something he can teach <i>us</i> to do and I think it gives him a since of accomplishment and encourages him to try similar things.<br />
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I imagine you can think of some unique games your child will love playing. I love to recycle and try to use what I have at home. It causes the eye to see creativity where it wouldn’t otherwise see fun and games…buttons, shoe laces, poker chips, dice, origami paper, doubles of family photos etc...<br />
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You will make your child smile. What a great reward!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiEoYDEhYgZL99gAvh1LMARzYTDgX_-XdA6BGL9VW7V3REQOWrKxRrF22-sZ8wMk3sPQkbBvqxjOl_HoU-ZxsWeyFhfNZC1EgEhPr28Z9oFXuNUdlBsMuK3fw3kzcd0OiwvdsKJssYoUhw/s1600/dominos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiEoYDEhYgZL99gAvh1LMARzYTDgX_-XdA6BGL9VW7V3REQOWrKxRrF22-sZ8wMk3sPQkbBvqxjOl_HoU-ZxsWeyFhfNZC1EgEhPr28Z9oFXuNUdlBsMuK3fw3kzcd0OiwvdsKJssYoUhw/s400/dominos.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Recycled mayo jug with a hole punched in the top. Children’s domino (these make a wonderful clacking sound when they are dropped in. He likes the sound and the smooth cool feel of the dominos. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj08sufsSWE7EBS-JWueDz5dzF_-uRuljTn3_fyNzzKO_Hn8A2o0_ks0bE75MasDp3M2bFuouMwQzpUnSqM81bc-TgEn_3DJjmPU2S7NltQYdodn6dsGM7iAanik5SeDJT2upB9nAH7ykA/s1600/pipe+cleaner+circles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj08sufsSWE7EBS-JWueDz5dzF_-uRuljTn3_fyNzzKO_Hn8A2o0_ks0bE75MasDp3M2bFuouMwQzpUnSqM81bc-TgEn_3DJjmPU2S7NltQYdodn6dsGM7iAanik5SeDJT2upB9nAH7ykA/s400/pipe+cleaner+circles.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Made by one of Zach’s school teachers. Pipe cleaners wound into circles, a little packing tape and a recycled shoe box <br />
covered in blue construction paper.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcb6a_Yt-i1Uo5ajAfHPhpfzV97gBOpIZxWX_-yFV-QE7GdGkoLX0t8mqszBO1NwMYRQWQVLRsoxpijjKZhw9HBrEhNjSyj7t2qF4GMMUBeK-EqAfKykIrlT0aLMd4ADHl6H-haOt-0Ksm/s1600/pipe+cleaners%252C+straight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcb6a_Yt-i1Uo5ajAfHPhpfzV97gBOpIZxWX_-yFV-QE7GdGkoLX0t8mqszBO1NwMYRQWQVLRsoxpijjKZhw9HBrEhNjSyj7t2qF4GMMUBeK-EqAfKykIrlT0aLMd4ADHl6H-haOt-0Ksm/s320/pipe+cleaners%252C+straight.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pipe cleaners and a pitcher (I must have been lazy, or very tired).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVRVlVXxz1fX58Y-kJ5NG9SCn_ypRie7UyQJP9QuuYWTxUT9qzJpjE4NAz6X00eoQWD31jE0igu4P9rYTWU0xI3q-1QgV1XnDPJFoh7BBcCHyxacMC3g3mike4zHP5ubdqMrgCLkMtaRmo/s400/popcicle+sticks.jpg" height="265" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Popsicle sticks & a food storage container, cut slots, line slots with colored<br />
tape, or color around with permanent markers. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyItJPJbWhB9l5jy0Aj7i6Z_0ExQDW4Ip3Ek57fbdvfOKfTtjwskKFj0zpy0W5z_KRdBhEEyUiJWvZWR3XK3MopCY8RKPtri0aWmqzW0kUvPe_Wqsr-xqn4vJZin_ALJRHdXFy7Pk5oFDz/s1600/puff+balls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyItJPJbWhB9l5jy0Aj7i6Z_0ExQDW4Ip3Ek57fbdvfOKfTtjwskKFj0zpy0W5z_KRdBhEEyUiJWvZWR3XK3MopCY8RKPtri0aWmqzW0kUvPe_Wqsr-xqn4vJZin_ALJRHdXFy7Pk5oFDz/s320/puff+balls.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fuzzy puff balls; simple.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtTSZY9vdurTaFq5K0uHvCbF1xiXJxiUrYaM7IrgzbeoRUKnd2Fk4ofpI1Ign-CfK0FUlIzAGpN2Qit5NevpNjaGEaTJa0fj5GgdpiD_SFKWT7gTOBcs_J3Wza-Vq4OAIR9W3Nzey_1hBI/s1600/spirial+ball+slide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtTSZY9vdurTaFq5K0uHvCbF1xiXJxiUrYaM7IrgzbeoRUKnd2Fk4ofpI1Ign-CfK0FUlIzAGpN2Qit5NevpNjaGEaTJa0fj5GgdpiD_SFKWT7gTOBcs_J3Wza-Vq4OAIR9W3Nzey_1hBI/s320/spirial+ball+slide.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A noisy contraption, but he loves it!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2voDM2GbUsaliLVzaAR7L0jmrY6JIJWfP2lhBAsNOWaN2buZ3RG1AFqPFo_OT-NVKnG5Xw6AbsPj5u8uYsyll3hkEaQe3Il6yZps0Chg1543nl50tfqBDvDYSJPP2f7SMP0_aXYPyBvGF/s1600/people+recognition%253Alaminated+photos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2voDM2GbUsaliLVzaAR7L0jmrY6JIJWfP2lhBAsNOWaN2buZ3RG1AFqPFo_OT-NVKnG5Xw6AbsPj5u8uYsyll3hkEaQe3Il6yZps0Chg1543nl50tfqBDvDYSJPP2f7SMP0_aXYPyBvGF/s400/people+recognition%253Alaminated+photos.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photos of family, friends and care givers (laminated) as well as some Winnie The Pooh and Tigger playing cards I found (Zach loves Tigger and Pooh).</td></tr>
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Coming soon….When dark clouds hover over life, how do you feng shui that flung pooh?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-30491643689228296452011-07-05T08:51:00.000-07:002014-10-06T11:39:03.093-07:00Sifting Through Supplements and Diets. You can work yourself into a frenzy; when is enough, enough?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8foeyCgSCFu86kFWOKxPn8NJln9RseKud0QPROM7Pdx_uwLIHfPBoSbCIbLz8ml0Wl6UfSrbjo9MxNsa_m7kBtz6CRNVHXOEd9dX48rMrwlNy1fRIz9rbMzT7Mlv3TUBQkb9SfVL_P8X/s1600/Youngrachel%2526zach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8foeyCgSCFu86kFWOKxPn8NJln9RseKud0QPROM7Pdx_uwLIHfPBoSbCIbLz8ml0Wl6UfSrbjo9MxNsa_m7kBtz6CRNVHXOEd9dX48rMrwlNy1fRIz9rbMzT7Mlv3TUBQkb9SfVL_P8X/s200/Youngrachel%2526zach.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach, age two and a half with his sister Rachel</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp7omKgiXYgVsiP7X2bTFUwkh_bQstUa8yT_tbxX_X2r6C5w1PrDa5z_uuLf1WLNAcIN9Y0kPJ_2GDPNYAG7cDsr6Y5nUkWMJi_oVzljvkgGdoNUYx0stXZiPpaedmI_VgcNJFdrQRtfm6/s1600/Zachoneyr.Meadow042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp7omKgiXYgVsiP7X2bTFUwkh_bQstUa8yT_tbxX_X2r6C5w1PrDa5z_uuLf1WLNAcIN9Y0kPJ_2GDPNYAG7cDsr6Y5nUkWMJi_oVzljvkgGdoNUYx0stXZiPpaedmI_VgcNJFdrQRtfm6/s200/Zachoneyr.Meadow042.jpg" height="200" width="136" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach at one year</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi06ZeViJQEP9HeyhHUn1GyW14_gnfH2h1r6At8xhEBRl6gmXXt4cUp46ASpI-zQfr7_0TuzZfJMZOZkJ-9_-EP2VUl7-xnpX6hfVfyLX0WrrNT_wxoPtwYRLBkpWrTXq4mkeIKNMLdI1A0/s1600/ZachiePlaydough.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi06ZeViJQEP9HeyhHUn1GyW14_gnfH2h1r6At8xhEBRl6gmXXt4cUp46ASpI-zQfr7_0TuzZfJMZOZkJ-9_-EP2VUl7-xnpX6hfVfyLX0WrrNT_wxoPtwYRLBkpWrTXq4mkeIKNMLdI1A0/s200/ZachiePlaydough.jpg" height="128" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach, age two </td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Z<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">ach was "normal" (I use quotations because I am fairly certain that our normal has liquified and is ever changing shape) till the seizures began at age three and a half. The seizures began with one in June of 1994, then nothing till November of the same, at which time they came in clusters, one every two hours. In April of the coming year, the Zach we had come to know and love had pretty much gone into hiding and we had a different transformed Zach to love. We grieved the loss and began accepting our new life and Zach.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">W</span>e didn't get the early intervention memo in the mid-nineties when Zach began having seizures. Back then the spectrum for autistic disorders was very narrow and in most medical circles, unless the child was born with it, diagnoses for autism weren’t given. Since Zach wasn’t thrust down this melded path till he was almost four he was tagged with a seizure disorder and developmental delays, riddled with anti-seizure medicine and sent home. We are pretty sure that he is on the autism spectrum, though to this day he goes undiagnosed. We are trying some of the recommended diets and…a few of the overwhelming list of supplements advised by many DAN (Defeat Autism Now) doctors, as well as some tips from parents who, like us, through trial and error, have stumbled onto something that helps. These seem to be helping Zach. If I’ve learned anything, it is that simplicity, where applicable, is the key to sanity. It would be easy as a wink to go overboard with the supplements and treatments recommended. We try one at a time to determine which ones are doing the big lifting, then stick with those.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A</span>s I watched my little boy slip away I began frantic studies thinking it was up to me to come up with a remedy for him, like Augusto and Michaela Odone, the brilliant parents portrayed in the movie Lerenzo's Oil (though at this time I had not seen the movie, nor heard about their findings). My table top was littered with all of the medical and naturopathic digests I could get my hands on. I had four children and a husband to care for, a household and eight acres to tend behind the, "in-front" of me chore of curing my son. I worked to keep some semblance of order in our home amidst the disruptive seizures. I lost ten pounds, my hair began to fall out, I rarely slept and came near a nervous breakdown. I was living and “not sleeping” with intense gut wrenching fear. What were these horrible seizures doing to Zach's brain? What would happen to us if Zach wasn't cured? Would he die? How would we go on? What if he got worse and we had to care for him till he became an old man? I’d never seen a seizure before, they were so horrific and I so naive, I thought that the seizures were causing this rapid transformation, now I know… there was an underlying metabolic shift happening in Zach’s body.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLByWnJqOItHROdQZ55PQLr-8TTfHAufkV1X9rNUkIIneU0YBUghzx9X3IVL4934XQ5Cq_v9MvwjBjjGBnd1fr4eRyHF-GDrD1ub_lHNaBO_cUDnXZEmZ_D0ZN7lLPid7aRC3Rf7Fs2Zw/s1600/Rachandzachb%2526w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLByWnJqOItHROdQZ55PQLr-8TTfHAufkV1X9rNUkIIneU0YBUghzx9X3IVL4934XQ5Cq_v9MvwjBjjGBnd1fr4eRyHF-GDrD1ub_lHNaBO_cUDnXZEmZ_D0ZN7lLPid7aRC3Rf7Fs2Zw/s200/Rachandzachb%2526w.jpg" height="128" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sick little boy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6iTECCSJjAthy2db1YNXkLsq13hN8d1hYeeiYef_8UGl8JXr_VLqjwXV-O-EdLMlBzfH706hdpVfrPbx8o7m3Sym2O6UXgPgr8PI-0ARutVUotXmBlrAnmxR5EfZZ7Z6EE3MF_Q8aCJhz/s1600/Zachinthesnow173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6iTECCSJjAthy2db1YNXkLsq13hN8d1hYeeiYef_8UGl8JXr_VLqjwXV-O-EdLMlBzfH706hdpVfrPbx8o7m3Sym2O6UXgPgr8PI-0ARutVUotXmBlrAnmxR5EfZZ7Z6EE3MF_Q8aCJhz/s200/Zachinthesnow173.jpg" height="131" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Zach at age 5</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A</span>s I hunched over my dining room table searching the pages of the books there on for a miracle herb, or drug, diet anything; I heard a quiet inner voice say simply, "You've lost your peace." I knew this voice, but hadn’t heard it in a while. I also knew precisely what the words meant. I reluctantly closed the books, shelved them and began a journey of meditation and listening. I didn't just stop helping, or trying, but I left off the urgency and dropped the, "it's up to me" mentality by staying close enough to hear and employ the courage and energy to do what was needed at the time. Today this is the peace driven life I choose to live. It has proven successful laying an overarching blanket of tranquility over our home for Zach to live inside, miraculously (most days) this peace bubble seems to transcend flung pooh and stress.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Z</span>ach is super sensitive to moods and troubled waters. A peaceable and tranquil atmosphere seems to be one of the greatest “pills” we’ve found, but still, we have the occasional meltdown, or physical need for doctor needed assistance. I try not to be moved from fear, stress, or frustration. This is somewhat of a mind bending exercise, but worth the effort.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A</span>fter seventeen years of trial and error with diet, supplements and drugs….<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">T</span>hings that didn’t work for us-<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">H</span>ard drugs, Valium (rectal) to stop the ever growing clusters of seizures, this drug did indeed stop the seizures, but Zach became addicted and went through severe withdrawal when he wouldn't have a cluster. Once noticing his depression and aggravation, we eased him off and haven't given him valium for probably ten years (for Zach, what was at first a simple tool to stop seizures, became very destructive).<br />
Vitamin cocktails.<br />
Intravenous Gamma globulin treatments.<br />
We took Zach a homeopathic clinic for a month. They gave Zach intravenous antioxidants, detoxed him for heavy metals, gave him B vitamin shots (called Mule Kickers) and we were giving him vial after vial of homeopathic remedies during the day and before bed at night. I have no idea if this treatment helped. At this point Zach was still verbal and interactive, but the staring and some strange behaviors, like repeating one word a thousand times were surfacing. I don’t think these treatments were destructive, but it wasn’t the cure we were hoping for. His cognizance continued to decline.<br />
The Ketogenic Diet (brutal to follow) worked to hold off the seizures for 9 days and then everything resumed as it had been before the diet was implemented.<br />
Mannatec's Ambrotose.<br />
Lorenzo’s Oil.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">T</span>hings that are working-<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A</span>nti seizure medications were, in the beginning, to many to list. Some caused severe reactions in Zach, vomiting, rashes, sleepless nights, hyper activity, etc. We are now down to two, Keppra and Dilantin. The pharmaceutical companies are always coming up with new things to try. I am grateful for these two drugs that give Zach some peace, but they have side affects, and I consider most of them the lessor of two evils.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A</span>bout two years ago Zach's behaviors began to worsen (screaming and head banging, unhappy most of the day, not sleeping at night and began to show, what appeared to be, depression. The three of us went into a bit of a tailspin…stresses brought on by sleep deprivation, outbursts of tears and over all, bumbling and barely coping with what we thought was seasonal allergies, or some sort of virus. After a month, or more of this behavior our blessed eldest daughter did an internet search and found the one and only DAN doctor near us. We booked an appointment asap and out the door we flew. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">D</span>an intervention: After our first visit with the DAN doctor we stopped gluten and dairy and added a strong probiotic, calcium and magnesium at bedtime, had a blood draw and sent in fecal cultures for yeast overgrowth and other testing. Within a week Zach was calmer and sleeping through the night. We were ecstatic, but then the seizures and some of the behaviors came back..as always. But we were on the right track. We made another appointment and he suggested we have another blood draw (these are traumatic and very hard on Zach) and run some allergy tests. He felt Zach’s aggravation was brought on by allergens and inflammation. When the tests came back we were shocked to find that Zach was off the charts allergic to eggs and peanut butter, which he consumed every day and was moderately allergic to gluten and dairy. Yeast growth was low and there were some thyroid issues (t-4 was given in varying doses, but we didn’t see any results and stopped after one year). We had to radically alter his diet. We made an appointment with a dentist also to rule out abscesses and mouth pain (Zach must be anesthetized, so this has to be done in the hospital).<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">D</span>iet: Today Zach's diet is as organic and pesticide free as possible. We shop local and have modified his diet to consist of organic meats, fresh, or steamed vegetables and fresh fruit with some nuts and whole grains sparingly. We applied for state assistance, to add some respite care and interaction to help with Zach's depression (some of these behaviors seemed to come on the heels of him getting his certificate of attendance for high school). Respite care has been a godsend for all involved. Zach loves his caregivers and so do we. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">S</span>eizures: We are now down to one, or two seizures every ten days. At the hight of Zach’s seizure climb, he was having, fifteen to twenty grand mals per day.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">T</span>ools: Applied Behavioral Analysis; this method has been helpful in a small way. We have tried some of the tactics and seen moderate improvement. Zach has learned to hang up his coat and hat, remove his shoes, sock and pants, put himself back to bed if he wishes and pull up the covers and get himself a few cookies from the cookie jar (we can only put four cookies in the jar at a time. Zach's OCD nature supposes that he empty and eat ALL of the cookies there in). <br />
We purchased an ipad for Zach in hopes some of the apps would help with communication. Presently he is not interested in working on something so out of his normal routine. It has become his white noise machine for sleep and an option for movies. We are working on photo recognition of family members and hopefully we will transition to other applications that will help us get the most of this amazing invention.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Z</span>ach’s handbook/binder has been a great tool for helping respite care workers learn Zach and follow his health and the changes in his routine. We have put this together in a concise and neat way that is easily updated. I have a copy of all pages on my computer. Zach had a website, which was nice also, but that became an added burden to update, so we are back to hardcopy only.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A</span>ll in all I believe Zach’s improvement and (generally) happy state is due to his neurologist finding the mildest yet most effective anti-seizure medicine and prescribing the lowest dose needed for effectiveness; the implementation of the gluten and dairy free diet along with removing the other allergens and the out-of-doors, exercise and sunshine, we have found, are the best drugs “not" on the market.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">W</span>hat Zach’s (ever changing) supplements look like today (all liquid, or powdered capsules that can be opened). <br />
At bedtime-500 to 1000 mgs of liquid calcium magnesium with 500 mg taurine and 500 mg tryptophan added.<br />
In the morning-5000 mcg Now Ultra B-12; 50 mg liquid B-6 (with magnesium and zinc).<br />
1260 mg Nordic Naturals cod liver oil (we are just adding pasture butter to go along with as findings are fairly substantiated that it works well in conjunction with cod liver oil in assimilation).<br />
1000 mgs of TMG powder (trimethylglycine). <br />
200-400 mgs of Selenium (I switch back and forth between antioxidants E, C and Selenium).<br />
5,000 to 10,000 mgs of liquid vitamin D depending on the season.<br />
400 mgs liquid Thorne folic acid and finally.<br />
150 mg milk thistle for liver function.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9yySncjwi4RkibfR7B_mT4b-SHladZa3q2aqOEnOdZbQ-Z_VeTsMDk3t67xTMq6p8DwyNZ1Q-C3Q1LyGRvfkrGkRS81xM6iDM45QfNcg2KalcgiwFIXb3Vt2kU5qxmLZ84uUHvZdBdTi/s1600/IMG_1893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9yySncjwi4RkibfR7B_mT4b-SHladZa3q2aqOEnOdZbQ-Z_VeTsMDk3t67xTMq6p8DwyNZ1Q-C3Q1LyGRvfkrGkRS81xM6iDM45QfNcg2KalcgiwFIXb3Vt2kU5qxmLZ84uUHvZdBdTi/s320/IMG_1893.jpg" height="148" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach's morning meds routine + keppra and dilantin</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;">.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRMxvdU_paBB4l-mAg4LoHfCvb2exGpfyXvS0VCKxlhWG3R7ZJJtxQJzl4nR4vBYLb6-FIPe3JtNYru-bcBqGaBOq6NTnYL4Q-vidu-tS9EJ7gzv8vHS_vzrb3ne-g8URCrTkkWbC2aUX/s1600/IMG_1894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRMxvdU_paBB4l-mAg4LoHfCvb2exGpfyXvS0VCKxlhWG3R7ZJJtxQJzl4nR4vBYLb6-FIPe3JtNYru-bcBqGaBOq6NTnYL4Q-vidu-tS9EJ7gzv8vHS_vzrb3ne-g8URCrTkkWbC2aUX/s1600/IMG_1894.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach's nighttime routine + keppra and dilantin</td></tr>
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Update October, 2014. Zach no longer has the above regime, though it may help some. He is now the proud holder of his medical marijuana card. We are on a search to find him Charlottes Web (a species of marijuana that helps with seizure control. Low THC, high CBD). Zach is currently taking 5000 g’s of liquid vitamin D, 1 cap of a good probiotic and 3000 mg of an easily assimilated form of algae calcium morning and night. 1/2 t of Wellness Formula once a day along with 1 t of colloidal silver and presently his dose of Z-9 CBD marijuana coconut butter stands at 1/2 t three times a day. This helps with behavior, but does not make him “high”. It has been a godsend (he smiles a lot!) </div>
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We are into simple and things that work here on Staunton Hill. I never thought I’d have to change my mind about the stigma attached to the drug marijuana, but I have indeed come to find that this herb, like wine, or sex nowadays is made by God and in the right context, it is a healer and a help in time of need. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-41659725507276517362011-06-20T17:36:00.000-07:002014-10-06T10:31:50.483-07:00How the Flug Pooh did we make it to 31 years?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSOTDPjnubE8tWpG7wVcsO1TjrcPcxZ1GNhDclI9DBZtvVvkH0ihhWoEnx-QL4SD3MlkTFNfxOKcGDUWzJl4tvG8vhRRPUaAG0gIG8FSXDvoyDr18ed3I488G295scsfjIRiPVyWENh6Y/s1600/Weddingtoast132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSOTDPjnubE8tWpG7wVcsO1TjrcPcxZ1GNhDclI9DBZtvVvkH0ihhWoEnx-QL4SD3MlkTFNfxOKcGDUWzJl4tvG8vhRRPUaAG0gIG8FSXDvoyDr18ed3I488G295scsfjIRiPVyWENh6Y/s200/Weddingtoast132.jpg" height="191" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">June 14, 1980….</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">W</span>e were clueless as to what was coming down the pike on that blissful day, June 14<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">, </span>1980.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times;"></span><span style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">F</span>ourteen years later, i</span>t got all tangled up. We hit the knot of a special needs child-<span style="font-family: Times;">we'd hit the flung pooh years. I wondered if we'd become a statistic, you know, one of the four out of five marriages with special children that ends in divorce. We'd agreed that divorce was not in our marital vocabulary (I'm sure everyone agrees to that early on). However, we never dreamed we'd have this very difficult mountain accent in our marital journey. We thought, happily ever after, but "happily" we have found, is hard fought for. Still, it was forever, for us…so 's<o:p></o:p></span>lowly-by-slowly' (as my Ugandan friend Jaja would say), we fung shui'ed our flung pooh marriage (which wasn't really flung pooh'ed, necessarily, just high centered on autism). <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqi-RQUmEFaXqk965gJV414Ctkv4B7adpE0xZxKj9BjXpKSTJjS4uTOcRre-ys0ffWAtE8SMXhanhspLrXcntdr59pSKUtnSOFUhJS53_jfaVCdmptW60axapaD-kuo5VnDfY_s-gpzlOd/s1600/The+Early+Years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqi-RQUmEFaXqk965gJV414Ctkv4B7adpE0xZxKj9BjXpKSTJjS4uTOcRre-ys0ffWAtE8SMXhanhspLrXcntdr59pSKUtnSOFUhJS53_jfaVCdmptW60axapaD-kuo5VnDfY_s-gpzlOd/s200/The+Early+Years.jpg" height="200" width="151" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The early years….</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZoftypBboRjvxvZomH3k58Y61YG6_MrnQEFVuivjdtsphpe8MLhpMArQ_kJNfQVjZP8BAACdDPgq8rIf2o8-xVRkV_fOR4DdjijAFsOXdNdha3mjXIjukJJbyHP2Q5WvT6yn9351r9W6/s1600/The+Middle+Years+%25232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZoftypBboRjvxvZomH3k58Y61YG6_MrnQEFVuivjdtsphpe8MLhpMArQ_kJNfQVjZP8BAACdDPgq8rIf2o8-xVRkV_fOR4DdjijAFsOXdNdha3mjXIjukJJbyHP2Q5WvT6yn9351r9W6/s200/The+Middle+Years+%25232.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The latter middle years….(oh how I wish my belly still looked like that!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvSZVZE3OBhxeWbGasJWjZKI2PtizoxaboCgQkfKvS-z5l2E9aZczZOeI7BkskD-t6iC3_cQzLM1E7PX5FgAaau4C92HF3cNZ8m0ltji6znBI4A1jcLgmZwDoo5JgPrzdyV6yTTJTlDKJ/s1600/In+the+water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvSZVZE3OBhxeWbGasJWjZKI2PtizoxaboCgQkfKvS-z5l2E9aZczZOeI7BkskD-t6iC3_cQzLM1E7PX5FgAaau4C92HF3cNZ8m0ltji6znBI4A1jcLgmZwDoo5JgPrzdyV6yTTJTlDKJ/s200/In+the+water.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The middle years….</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_d95mVoHXR7i-IaaNRZfD2SQhhWJt5M-PUYAC3N_Ymfbz3BKmBwx57jPmiDS7BtV79y08Eqp2d5B5RwgV2OO-21vDUMkKznfPjihu5lmR6ArEODEzgmNbWQHJOMWm06X80r8bbdEgjCOI/s1600/Latter+years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_d95mVoHXR7i-IaaNRZfD2SQhhWJt5M-PUYAC3N_Ymfbz3BKmBwx57jPmiDS7BtV79y08Eqp2d5B5RwgV2OO-21vDUMkKznfPjihu5lmR6ArEODEzgmNbWQHJOMWm06X80r8bbdEgjCOI/s200/Latter+years.jpg" height="132" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few years ago…and counting...</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">T</span>uesday </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">we had seven hours of giddy freedom, nonfat lattes setting in the cup holders, backpacks and snacks loaded, we</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> bombed down interstate five in "Ol' Silver, my Monero. We were on our way to the Shasta Wilderness area to hike and picnic for our anniversary. Zach was comfortable, at home, and in the capable hands of his reliable caregivers. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">W</span>ith this blog in mind, I asked Web why he thought we'd made it thus far in our marriage. We came up with wit (very important), grit, vision for the future and love that grows into the strong vine of commitment, with a little hill of hope and a molehill of maturity (the mountain I believe, is a desire to please God and the heart and head to know what that is). We are committed to each other as best buddies, patriarch and matriarch of this family that we have helped to create, to stand beside the other through this tough go, so that the proverbial dream (Lord willing) of, "two rockers on the front porch, glass of lemonade and grandchild on the knee" becomes a reality.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">S</span>ometimes, I'm sure we both <i>wan</i>t to run away, I have my days for sure, but thus far we haven't, for long anyway (a drive, a hike, or a bike ride and we're back at it). We cry together, talk openly about our feelings and encourage each other to look on the positive side when we feel we can't go on, I mean, five all-nighters in a row is killer…but somehow, we keep going because, opting out, we feel, would be an assault against our mutual trust and love. Everyone looses. We would become one of the four out of five marriages in families with special needs that slide into the ditch…and besides, we’ve always liked bucking the odds. Bottom line-we really like each other…and thinking back, no one said the words easy, but I sure thought it.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A</span>nyway, back to our anniversary road trip…we bought ready made sandwiches from our local health food store, grabbed some kefir water, some fruit, chocolate bars and a bag of chips. We jacked our jaws like a couple of old women. The weather was in the 80’s for the first time this year, the moon roof on the car was open wide, the soundtrack to, The Horse Whisperer hummed us down the long winding country roads; on either side, pastures dotted with cattle and horses (the aroma of freshly mown hay...livestock manure…seriously, I could get high on country). <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA5l6J9-NCb3nMFJcMKnsl8DUet2VoM858QZOsAwyiCEVzlqAMfNiYxEt8ClX4Z_txRPEfUpUa2sCrq40lCjUuNekE4RBoyGe7I9foNeCgoynvWbbVBdE85jpS1rB-1bh3ScoDBy2oZaRi/s1600/IMG_2160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA5l6J9-NCb3nMFJcMKnsl8DUet2VoM858QZOsAwyiCEVzlqAMfNiYxEt8ClX4Z_txRPEfUpUa2sCrq40lCjUuNekE4RBoyGe7I9foNeCgoynvWbbVBdE85jpS1rB-1bh3ScoDBy2oZaRi/s200/IMG_2160.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">W</span>hen we arrived at the Shasta Lavender Farms (mtshastalavenderfarms.com) we found that the lavender hadn't bloomed yet, ding-dong, we couldn't pick a bushel like we'd hoped, but we enjoyed our cup of lavender lemonade and a visit with the manager whom we found, also has four children, two with special needs. Dear lord, there is always someone with a harder go.<br />
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The warm car, this nice quiet space with nothing pressing…we couldn't make a decision to save our lives. Shasta was just so far away and the roads to get there…so off roads vehicle'ly. We ate our sarnies on a concrete picnic table near Lake Shastina (we arrived at this rather stark picnic area via paved roads), packed up and came home, tucked Zach into bed, ate strawberry shortcake on the couch and watched a fun movie (Bottle Shock); laughed our heads off and went to bed satisfied with the life we've made of flung pooh (we decided, home is the best because that is where Zach is). It was a good day, as many are.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">C</span>ontentment is learned, I'm still being educated. I had to open my eyes wide and take in the beauty of simple everyday things rather than closing them and wishing for things that could never be (I believe in biblical terms, this "wishing" is called "lusting", but lusting isn't as pretty a word as wishing). Enjoy a few hours away from the pressing, an evening drive, or reading a Winnie The Pooh book to my nineteen-year-old, while I sip something delicious from a favorite mug. White sheets drying on the line, or moving slowly with the sun as it sets, the soundtrack from Out Of Africa sparkles in the background. My wide open eyes widen even further when I see Zach slip, what looks like the spine to one of my antique books under the crack in the door, it is in fact just that, he ripped another one :-/ and not only that, but found a good use for it he thinks (back and forth, under the door it slides). This letting-go, this slowing down, it is healing for me, stress relieving, because in my world and most likely your's too, I live in the midst of feng shuied chaos. Some days, the ability to breathe through, smile and look for the good, means the difference between withering, or blooming. Let's face it, sometimes the good is hard pressed to find, but press in and you will find.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">S</span>imple Home, it certainly is where Zach prefers to be nowadays and because he is a treasure to us, we prefer to be here with him, most of the time. It wasn't always that way. A long time ago, we decided that if this was where we were going to hang, or be stuck, however we're looking at it that particular day, we'd make it as pleasant as possible; and we have. A semblance of order, candles (I have a deep need for flickering) and soothing music (Zach seems to like my soundtracks), a big library (one can never have too many books, or soundtracks), a growing dvd collection to choose from, but our favorite thing is to take in our view, when time allows us to take a peek, we thank God for placing us high on a hill with a little space to breathe. Home is, well, it's cozy-home and the landscaper/handyman (Web) is kind and really nice to look at :-) and I like the cook to (me).</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">T</span>hree pink recipes I came up with, which helped me work my way out of a gray day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_XNECvqLjaaHBF07-4Sg_7au_vQcGEWkCUB8M2Pd7k54HBxdCcI3paeDiLNcPx_5GwpslUiT3aFhtT1E083JePvN87i5ndTtV-87EKtH_r3lI_e0vRUWJPjmTjOzVB72pHee8lHvAq6TC/s1600/IMG_4116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_XNECvqLjaaHBF07-4Sg_7au_vQcGEWkCUB8M2Pd7k54HBxdCcI3paeDiLNcPx_5GwpslUiT3aFhtT1E083JePvN87i5ndTtV-87EKtH_r3lI_e0vRUWJPjmTjOzVB72pHee8lHvAq6TC/s200/IMG_4116.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></div>
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Lavender Lemonade<br />
Fill pitcher half full with ice cubes<br />
Pour 1 can organic frozen lemonade into pitcher, and make according to the directions except leave out one can of water, or you can squeeze your own and sweeten with organic maple syrup.<br />
Steep 1 1/2 tablespoons of culinary lavender in 1/2 cup boiling water for 4 minutes, strain (push lavender buds into the strainer with the back of the spoon to get all of that good lavender flavor out, and add to your prepared lemonade.<br />
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Pink Rosemary Pate (gf)<br />
2 tablespoons olive oil<br />
1 lb organic chicken liver<br />
Salt to taste (chicken liver can take the salt)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZchf2Nm90vnrbpwg95nMd5V8PaAnGAxjLOcRPkzMk3BLtsWozOZYno-Nk9mh6L9Ibt12FFAsCN3kb-utQSLNpg9wNk7I1R1hKUKE3PuYpxmHVavhQnoLADhbJIZM42t35vaYb7_9VSjUx/s1600/IMG_4120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZchf2Nm90vnrbpwg95nMd5V8PaAnGAxjLOcRPkzMk3BLtsWozOZYno-Nk9mh6L9Ibt12FFAsCN3kb-utQSLNpg9wNk7I1R1hKUKE3PuYpxmHVavhQnoLADhbJIZM42t35vaYb7_9VSjUx/s200/IMG_4120.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a>Sprinkle organic olive oil into a 9x13 glass baking dish, add 1 pound of organic chicken livers, salt well with kosher salt, or sea salt and bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. Let cool.<br />
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2, or 3 tablespoons coconut oil<br />
1 small onion, diced<br />
1 sprig of fresh rosemary<br />
1 medium beet<br />
2 large mushrooms (I used small portobello, enough to make 1/2 cup sliced)<br />
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On the stove top in a dutch oven, place 2, or 3 tablespoons of coconut oil, 1 small diced onion, clippings of 1 sprig of fresh rosemary (snip soft green tips with kitchen shears), 1/2 cup sliced fresh mushrooms and one medium beet diced into 1/2 inch cubes. Cover and steep till tender, about 25 minutes. Let cool slightly before adding to the blender with the cooked chicken livers, blend with 1/4 cup of melted organic butter till smooth. Serve with rosemary parmesan flat bread, or rye crisp. Simi sweet, savory spread.<br />
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Rhubarb Strawberry pie (not gluten free, but could easily be by substituting a gf flour of choice to your pastry recipe. Zach doesn't eat pie (but doesn't have to be 100% gluten free) so we can make ours with wheat flour) This recipe is from my mother's old Meta Givens Modern Encyclopedia of Cooking. Published in 1947. Not a lot of gluten, or dairy free recipes back then.<br />
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1 1/2 lb. rhubarb (from 3 1/2 to 4 cups cut)<br />
1 cup sugar<br />
1 cup sliced strawberries<br />
1/4 cup butter cut into pats for placing on top of the fruit before adding top crust (My mother's addition)<br />
2 tablespoons quick-cooking tapioca<br />
1/8 teaspoon salt<br />
Pastry for 9-inch double crust pie<br />
1 tablespoon butter<br />
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Wash rhubarb thoroughly, trim off leaf and stem ends and discard. Cut stems into 3/4-inch length. Combine sugar, tapioca (may also use 1/4 cup flour, or substitute corn starch for tapioca if you prefer) and salt, add the rhubarb and mix thoroughly. Fit pastry into pie pan. Turn rhubarb mixture into pastry-lined pan. Roll out pastry for upper crust and cut a design for steam vents. Brush edge of lower crust with cold water just before laying on top crust. Lay upper crust over pie and press edges together to seal; trim off excess dough. Let rest 10 minutes and flute rim as desired (my mom had a three finger flute that she taught me, but I've found that every baker does it differently). Bake in hot oven (450 degrees F.) for 15 minutes, then reduce heat to 325 degrees F. (moderately slow) and bake for 30 minutes longer, or until rhubarb is done. Serve warm or cold with whipped cream.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">C</span>oming soon; Supplements and natural remedies for the autistic that have worked for sleep, clarity and calming and allergy friendly cookies that hold together and taste great.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-28483296758300208962011-06-09T11:56:00.000-07:002014-10-06T10:23:07.288-07:00Friday Night Pizza for all we Feng Shui'ers<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Mamas, sisters and daughters are huge in my world.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCPaQw6xuT4Y6hEbq3BSTlJqTVdI0I3Kn6fLCuUp7YS-8fIpopPCQJT9RHsozlTu2FT56OUxz1JwNP4CGvY-mtzQQVw588sPOSYQ08pylsQlRIQZf-Q0L6tPoxGFJiBhFTJD327fNwUfYs/s1600/Me+and+Mama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCPaQw6xuT4Y6hEbq3BSTlJqTVdI0I3Kn6fLCuUp7YS-8fIpopPCQJT9RHsozlTu2FT56OUxz1JwNP4CGvY-mtzQQVw588sPOSYQ08pylsQlRIQZf-Q0L6tPoxGFJiBhFTJD327fNwUfYs/s200/Me+and+Mama.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Mama and I</b></td></tr>
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Yesterday I was setting in my office, Zach had respite care (sigh), my beautiful blond Rachel sat cross legged on the tile floor stamping T’s and R’s onto her, now finished, recycled paper wedding invitations (very cool). We are preparing for a beautiful high mountain wedding in August. It is going to be amazingly beautiful! Hannah, my eldest daughter, lives in Virginia (with my four grand babies I might add); she was in attendance as she and I dialogued on the voice memo app, Heytell. Our conversation beeped in and out; familiar subjects that bring up my own warm "mama memories". Mama and I wiled away many an hour on the end of a wall-mounted phone discussing recipes, gardening, family and engaged ourselves in long deep philosophical/religious discussions.<br />
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My daughters and I, blissful hours conversing about recipes, family, faith and what the princess fairies and little prince are doing, “What are you having for dinner?” (which spurred the birth of this post), the wedding (we’re all over this wedding) and “send me a link to your dress-and what do your shoes look like? I found this great lipstick at Sephora.”<br />
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I love love love these current years with my daughters; marriage and weddings, mothering, food (my favorite) and all things feminine that bond woman to woman; they have been a dynamic support and an amazing help to me these past seventeen years of caring for Zach.</div>
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I hope you and yours benefit from the fruit of our family, from our support, love and enjoyment of each other and our endeavor to employ the simple supper (what my daddy calls the evening meal) like we used to do “in the old days” the family sup, where you sit, engage in conversation and grow relationship. <br />
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FRIDAY NIGHT PIZZA<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL-mKS4oWcrWfU8tVWwSB7aDIh4wGQlJbeOmmFnkc2vyTrMNEu5gETpLLriVW4XMze91T3qom7oehpXnBd_BBTYqEV-o57KiGAz0d6V28iVKG0pi6tb2Jw1lTQsEmhQgzjXapXbxQ2W2-R/s1600/pizza+done.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL-mKS4oWcrWfU8tVWwSB7aDIh4wGQlJbeOmmFnkc2vyTrMNEu5gETpLLriVW4XMze91T3qom7oehpXnBd_BBTYqEV-o57KiGAz0d6V28iVKG0pi6tb2Jw1lTQsEmhQgzjXapXbxQ2W2-R/s200/pizza+done.jpg" height="200" width="149" /></a>You may buy gluten free pizza crusts in your health food section, they are delicious and time is of the essence in our world. I need to try some different recipes for making my own. I am not impressed with the recipes for gluten free pizza crusts I have found on-line. You may also buy Namaste Pizza crust mix (I only recommend this because all other Namaste products have been superior to others I've tried), OR make it from scratch using Namaste's Perfect Blend flour (the best gf flour for flavor and texture I have found). I used pre made<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 16px;">, Vicolo, spelt cornmeal pizza crusts; organic and non-gmo, but <b>not</b> gluten free, awfully yummy though!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgydcywJ2DZyYfl9ZVGzdqNX_6iaVf7InxhTSHLFcxdAI4cBAc8sJfUDAmeR9YDDE0BeUrq3dMZKlc9XfoYhIvmDpDED2RIWNhmeC5wwIYcmEVH9hRLuvru81e-Ba9U1XPuWATZDz7WMsr/s1600/daiya1852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgydcywJ2DZyYfl9ZVGzdqNX_6iaVf7InxhTSHLFcxdAI4cBAc8sJfUDAmeR9YDDE0BeUrq3dMZKlc9XfoYhIvmDpDED2RIWNhmeC5wwIYcmEVH9hRLuvru81e-Ba9U1XPuWATZDz7WMsr/s200/daiya1852.jpg" height="200" width="149" /></a>Cook bacon till crisp and crumble into pieces (I cooked mine in the microwave :-/, big no-no if you are a health food nut, and though I am [mostly], I really dislike standing over a red-hot frying pan, as the bubbling contents splatter me in the face). Enter microwave, a 9x13 glass baking dish lined with a pad of two, or three folded paper towels (recycled of course), slap down the bacon, then cover with more paper towels. Electrify till your crispness is content.<br />
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Sauce,<br />
1/4 cup mayonnaise (I prefer soy free Veganaise)<br />
1 tsp prepared yellow mustard, mix together and spread onto pizza crust<br />
sprinkle a generous layer of bacon over sauce.<br />
Cover in *daiya (dairy free cheese; the best dairy free I have found. It melts and tastes great, good for mac-n-cheese too!) mozzarella, or cheddar-jack blend. You can find it in your health food store, or ask your local grocer to carry it for you.<br />
Bake in a 425 degree oven for 10-12 minutes, or until crust is golden and crisp.<br />
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While pizza is cooking, set a simple table, wild flowers in a mason jar, a real wax candle; paper plates work on Friday night right? Dice garden fresh organic tomatoes and lettuce, pile onto cooked pizza slide it onto that table and wrap your lips around it immediately…OH yum-yum! Tastes just like a BLT with cheese!<br />
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Simple refreshing drink-fill a pitcher with ice cubes<br />
Brew 4 bags of black tea (pg tips is wonderful) in 2 cups of water just off the boil in a glass measuring cup for 4 minutes.<br />
Pull bags and add 1/4 to 1/3 cup of organic maple syrup stir well.<br />
Pour 32 oz of R.W. Knudsen's boysenberry juice (no sugar added) into pitcher, add tea and stir well. This is my favorite summer drink!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-663374086066846519.post-70150886319064346902011-06-07T13:49:00.000-07:002011-06-17T14:37:25.125-07:00Our Morning Walk<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQPVG0hRDRmAxK0peK6c6wKJ1-kJJGPNZhS5Kj8F9lHdxa4yAbPBhMGXJ2nbB5-ymp9vL8T38iR_KneUHF-WvnQiKLmXaLJT6TQy9MGT8iiVRvfFVcMLsZkbl49BUlr3fHvH6f8GzLtMT/s1600/Zach+on+trail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQPVG0hRDRmAxK0peK6c6wKJ1-kJJGPNZhS5Kj8F9lHdxa4yAbPBhMGXJ2nbB5-ymp9vL8T38iR_KneUHF-WvnQiKLmXaLJT6TQy9MGT8iiVRvfFVcMLsZkbl49BUlr3fHvH6f8GzLtMT/s200/Zach+on+trail.jpg" width="149" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb_S_j968RdaWtzHLokNP9kC7RNBdcnTfIqdZ_odeOpoHygr4-d3nuqFUvYIuv0VG6XKTKNOkzRRsN3bnrEoTIipBNNeh7V-DbujW9_QM5aBqf-S2XpwA2BrO6fRFOXNQwH8ZwSR4N3BjF/s1600/mom+and+dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb_S_j968RdaWtzHLokNP9kC7RNBdcnTfIqdZ_odeOpoHygr4-d3nuqFUvYIuv0VG6XKTKNOkzRRsN3bnrEoTIipBNNeh7V-DbujW9_QM5aBqf-S2XpwA2BrO6fRFOXNQwH8ZwSR4N3BjF/s200/mom+and+dad.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>My husband Web and I (married 31 years)</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I am known as Marmie Karen. I am fifty-three, healthy and in love with life and relationship. This is the first of, I hope, many posts on how I have navigated life with my son Zach, who, at age four became autistic; he is the youngest of my four children. <br />
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My aim is to be vulnerable and honest, to encourage and fan the fires of hope and joy inside of other mamas on a similar journey.<br />
I have been walking down the road of autism for almost seventeen years. I pray my failures and triumphs might offer someone the courage to lift a head look forward; to have fun and feel the light in what many of us find to be a cold dark, harder than hard valley of the shadow of death.<br />
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People who come into our home (where we have lived for the past 25 years), family, friends and caregivers, say it is one of the most peaceful places they've ever been to. I find this almost comical knowing what I know about our life, you know, the flug pooh and all, but...I feel it too…now anyway, at first I begged God to send His peace because, as all who live with autism know, it is anything but peaceful; couple that with endless seizures.... All I can say is that God answered my hollering prayer and quietly sent us a part of Himself in a fuzzy blanket of peace.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9nHDVFNGmT3BnNB812tILPM1BgXbTWxuFf94Q8aGhiM6bKqnX8p7l4NdZ_GrUdnRzXL2qLHziQmnIwpuWYIIHCFQoLLR25u1zifFiGgqXcFJbrvugJ6kkJ5i8bh_pur3Ooyl0MtaabYHZ/s1600/Zach+b%2526w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9nHDVFNGmT3BnNB812tILPM1BgXbTWxuFf94Q8aGhiM6bKqnX8p7l4NdZ_GrUdnRzXL2qLHziQmnIwpuWYIIHCFQoLLR25u1zifFiGgqXcFJbrvugJ6kkJ5i8bh_pur3Ooyl0MtaabYHZ/s200/Zach+b%2526w.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Zachie Angel (2 years ago)</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>A little about my Zach Angel; he is 19 (will be 20 in July) he requires care and watching all day, all night; he has interactive seizures (mostly grand mal, about one a week although this week, he has had four) and can no longer use the toilet. He needs help in every arena of life. Showering, shaving, dressing, changing diapers, preparation of foods, basically, every aspect of daily living and can never be left alone. He rarely sleeps through the night and does not like to travel (bummer!). He loves Winnie The Pooh and Tigger; his books, Grandma and Me, The Tortoise and The Hare, Arthur's Teacher Trouble and pictures of family. He likes to play Millie's Math House on his computer and watch his three favorite movies, Homeward Bound, Winnie The Pooh and the Blustery Day and The Fox and The Hound. He is not aggressive, but when he is in a "mood", he will bang his own head with his hand, or hit the wall, bite his clothing, make loud sounds, or scream and pound the floor; these outbursts, or melt downs are short lived (never fun, but apparently necessary for Zach); we acknowledge that we can see he is unhappy (we try NOT to say "wow, you are Oscar the Grouchy" very often anyway) and get a feel for whether he wants us to help him get "unstuck" or if he would prefer we leave the vicinity till he calms down, it's a toss up, half we talk tenderly and help him move on, and half we get out of his bubble. His care used to fall primarily on my shoulders, but for the past eighteen months we, my husband and I, have had some respite care provided by Creative Supports here in the beautiful Rogue Valley. Ahhhhh…..deep breath, deeeeeep breath...<br />
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Practically, I have found supplements that help Zach (I will share more on those in an upcoming blog), developed gluten free, dairy free, egg free, peanut free recipes for him that taste good and don't crumble into sawdust (coming later), started him on several diets, the ketogenic diet did not help Zach; the gluten free/dairy free diet has helped with his moods. We cut out all pesticides and chemically treated foods. This has also helped with seizures and moods. We try to shop local and only serve Zach organic, grass fed meats, raw foods and give him filtered water to drink.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTTIYgDUsSk47j9XwwfJfrby6f50KnjrfRtQEYHd1vTT1UffDP_INreyTb64nGhI3SXJrpjBfOSD4ph9Sa2cq5BtxWuqrXLjJ2ForICpfl-Um5HC6Fx-DhUe2SJiAJ62BwQyxwdO6yhst/s1600/A+healthy+plate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTTIYgDUsSk47j9XwwfJfrby6f50KnjrfRtQEYHd1vTT1UffDP_INreyTb64nGhI3SXJrpjBfOSD4ph9Sa2cq5BtxWuqrXLjJ2ForICpfl-Um5HC6Fx-DhUe2SJiAJ62BwQyxwdO6yhst/s200/A+healthy+plate.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>A typical plate for Zach. <br />
We have found healthy choices to be key!<br />
Organic green beans, fresh pear, raw pecans, <br />
raw olives and organic chicken livers<br />
(he loves these foods and can feed himself <br />
so long as everything is cut into bite sized pieces).</b></td></tr>
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Something soothing to start this blog: Today, when Zach and I went for our morning walk down the trail (a half mile loop built on our property by volunteers) we saw new born twin fawns :-), a few days before we saw peanut sized wild turkeys. It is green, wild flowers are popping. These are just a few of the things I lift my head from the endless chores to see. Zach doesn't seem to notice the wildlife; no matter, we assume he does even if he won't stop his Forrest Gump flying and take a gander.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBMJyZTmMWroGYpNXfkcpJiCNCpzEDHE9P56wmqzw2euyqhe5x-2mANjzvNdkcBN2lRg-fMpBCwZPetpiQTwXoAtvr9MOsFc7yawyj8gPQtw8nbbCotFAPkZ45qVG6TMyaQGp6ePNxOvc/s1600/Lavender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBMJyZTmMWroGYpNXfkcpJiCNCpzEDHE9P56wmqzw2euyqhe5x-2mANjzvNdkcBN2lRg-fMpBCwZPetpiQTwXoAtvr9MOsFc7yawyj8gPQtw8nbbCotFAPkZ45qVG6TMyaQGp6ePNxOvc/s1600/Lavender.jpg" /></a></div> <b>I'm in love with lavender, if I were nine, I'd marry a bunch. Take a whiff, ahhhhh, energizing and soothing.</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLioR58sinsnZMBnmY19ZbUiDoGa0m9VYqxBNaRyLBd8h94flvViQCT5kvU2xdnVjoBuXGhxLAzHMKgwbs6klnHdywyJzgzbQXI9T9FNvvNaZlx7pvoWls8Sj-UCmN1i5OEzIezVnY2Pc/s1600/Zach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLioR58sinsnZMBnmY19ZbUiDoGa0m9VYqxBNaRyLBd8h94flvViQCT5kvU2xdnVjoBuXGhxLAzHMKgwbs6klnHdywyJzgzbQXI9T9FNvvNaZlx7pvoWls8Sj-UCmN1i5OEzIezVnY2Pc/s1600/Zach.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLioR58sinsnZMBnmY19ZbUiDoGa0m9VYqxBNaRyLBd8h94flvViQCT5kvU2xdnVjoBuXGhxLAzHMKgwbs6klnHdywyJzgzbQXI9T9FNvvNaZlx7pvoWls8Sj-UCmN1i5OEzIezVnY2Pc/s1600/Zach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><b>Zach on his morning walk, with Pooh and Tigger ball (his favorite thing)</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>So, today I share nature, get out in it if you can, push a stroller, a wheelchair, grab a hand (swing it) and walk; smile, the simplicity of it can lift you out of the loud grinding demands of autism.<br />
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Coming soon, Yummy recipes and supplements that help!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09631554498906948664noreply@blogger.com1