tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90512824877775386842024-02-07T20:20:10.787-06:00Kindess is never wasted!"No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted." - Aesop <br>
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Kindness can sometimes be challenging. Reflect each day and find time to spread it on your way.
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<br>by Robin Rials WilliamsSocial_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-59163298796876196092015-11-26T13:00:00.000-06:002015-11-26T13:00:03.429-06:00Where am I now?<div style="color: #3d596d; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25.5px; margin-bottom: 24px;">
<img alt="IMG_5253" class=" wp-image-2309 alignright" data-mce-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5253.jpg?w=559" data-wpmedia-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5253.jpg" height="157" src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5253.jpg?w=559" style="float: right; height: auto; margin: 16px 0px 16px 16px; max-width: 100%;" width="285" />If your family is like mine, you probably have some Thanksgiving traditions that are considered key to a complete holiday. Traditions may involve food, football games, parade watching or 1500 piece puzzles. Traditions are a way of keeping you connected with people with whom you share bonds. My favorite tradition is canned cranberry sauce. If it doesn't have the tin can rings, don't serve it to me! I don't want any of that stinkin' freshly made stuff. </div>
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<img alt="IMG_5238.JPG" class=" wp-image-2263 alignleft" data-mce-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5238.jpg?w=559" data-wpmedia-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5238.jpg" height="268" src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5238.jpg?w=559" style="float: left; height: auto; margin: 16px 16px 16px 0px; max-width: 100%;" width="358" />Traditions aren't always long standing. Last year while in the midst of the big Thanksgiving day activities, my aunt brought out a box and announced we were going to open the family time capsule. I couldn't remember this being a tradition and I wasn't even sure that I had contributed, but it seemed like a fun idea. We all gathered around to see what might be in the box that had been packed away ten years prior. </div>
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<img alt="FullSizeRender.jpg" class=" wp-image-2281 alignright" data-wpmedia-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/fullsizerender1.jpg" height="266" src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/fullsizerender1.jpg?w=559" style="float: right; height: auto; margin: 16px 0px 16px 16px; max-width: 100%;" width="182" />Out of the box came personal mementos, stories, and silly items that may have been last minute thoughts from members of my family. My 22-year-old son's contribution was a turkey headband made by his 12-year-old self. It was quite entertaining to see him sporting the homemade craft. When it came to my item of entry, I was presented with a folded handwritten note. On the note was a memory that I had written about always feeling inferior in family trivia games. Why in the world would I care about how well I fared in trivia? It seems that I could have put a better representation of myself in a time capsule. That made me start thinking about where I was ten years earlier. Apparently, I was pissed off about losing at trivia. </div>
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<img alt="IMG_5245.JPG" class="alignnone wp-image-2290" data-mce-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5245.jpg?w=559" data-wpmedia-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5245.jpg" height="193" src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5245.jpg?w=559" style="height: auto; max-width: 100%;" width="260" /> <img alt="IMG_5241" class="alignnone wp-image-2308" data-mce-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5241.jpg?w=559" data-wpmedia-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5241.jpg" height="223" src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/img_5241.jpg?w=559" style="height: auto; max-width: 100%;" width="268" /></div>
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When the message came to start planning to make a contribution to the new time capsule I wanted it to be more meaningful. What would I want people to know about me if I die before the next ten years? After pondering the question for a month or so, I've decided that anything I put in the capsule is just fine. Worries about trivia ability? Sure, that's ok. A 5K race bib? Absolutely. In ten years, those items won't be a representation of the person I will be then. I tend to get caught up in the idea that how I am now is how I will always be. I beat myself up because I messed up, didn't do a job a certain way or just feel inadequate. What really matters to me is where I am now. Where I am now is at a place of confused understanding. I'd like to explain that, but I have no words that will convey what I mean. I applaud you if that makes sense.</div>
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<img alt="12249597_10206629448388038_4146253884880025958_n" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2334" data-mce-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/12249597_10206629448388038_4146253884880025958_n.jpg?w=559" data-wpmedia-src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/12249597_10206629448388038_4146253884880025958_n.jpg" height="640" src="https://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/12249597_10206629448388038_4146253884880025958_n.jpg?w=559" style="height: auto; max-width: 100%;" width="852" /></div>
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This blog post will serve as my contribution to my family time capsule. I'm assuming it will be opened in the year 2025. </div>
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Where am I now?</div>
Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-37790236470191316952013-09-01T10:57:00.000-05:002013-09-01T10:57:58.682-05:00You said you were a Christian, you are nothing but a jokeIf you have ever heard me say "I'm a Christian" consider yourself one of the rare few. While it may be true, I do not subscribe to the thought or need to say those three words out loud. In our society, I find that those words are used too loosely. They are often used to prove a point, defend a position or create fear or feelings of superiority. What you may have heard me say is "I'm a Methodist". I sometimes say those words to express my flavor of Christianity. Even so, I don't use it as a means to prove that I am anything but a sinner. Oh have you heard? Christians sin too!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDQbCrn94aX8LiUyTRyis9QQCgVKzVaA16zc5SmaBUl-jv0UH8ctUgcmxWHlLUNvygI2yGSQ3Bxpju21L4V0JHRGpkRA-mCdyA-7_l16mXmivhyphenhyphenQ6QUaFnfdbdMJyMu1bmsz_dafJ_BQU/s1600/Photo_Skitch_Document_1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="You said you were a Christian, you are nothing but a joke" border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDQbCrn94aX8LiUyTRyis9QQCgVKzVaA16zc5SmaBUl-jv0UH8ctUgcmxWHlLUNvygI2yGSQ3Bxpju21L4V0JHRGpkRA-mCdyA-7_l16mXmivhyphenhyphenQ6QUaFnfdbdMJyMu1bmsz_dafJ_BQU/s320/Photo_Skitch_Document_1.png" title="You said you were a Christian, you are nothing but a joke" width="320" /></a><br />
This week I received a barrage of text messages from my ex-husband aimed to tear me down because I had the gall to file for child support. There was one in particular that struck me as quite funny. I was accused of saying I was a Christian. It took me a day or so to process this. Like I said, I don't say this out loud very often. It was an accusation that I use my Christianity as a cover. At first my instinct was to text back some snarky remark, but it dawned on me that these terrible text messages were being sent to instigate a fight and I wasn't going to fight. After not responding to over 15 or so text messages, I got the final text meant to really "get me". <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiboYfd6OyCMEQghcTtFhGfseD_prP1Cg1gO_OLeCG8T1YAF4ltd3kMpogKoTdX3UjcvfdyTw_fvTZ-U2GC96SrysoylNvGoNZv0TRVdwOQeZwYwxVRlXXImXtlzfYJdEVeg1bDNBONOdg/s1600/Photo_Skitch_Document.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiboYfd6OyCMEQghcTtFhGfseD_prP1Cg1gO_OLeCG8T1YAF4ltd3kMpogKoTdX3UjcvfdyTw_fvTZ-U2GC96SrysoylNvGoNZv0TRVdwOQeZwYwxVRlXXImXtlzfYJdEVeg1bDNBONOdg/s320/Photo_Skitch_Document.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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I laughed out loud at this comment. I am not a loser and I am not a *****. The only thing anyone can find out about what kind of person I really am is that I truly love and care for people. No foolin'! Even this person who is trying to tear me down. I love him too. No, not the kind of romantic love that is shared between a husband and a wife. A kind of love that extends to the father of your child. A kind of love shared between family. That kind of love that sometimes makes you dislike someone so much, at the same time loving them. I don't care that we aren't married anymore. He will always be part of my family.<br />
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Now let's put this into perspective . . .<br />
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<ul>
<li>Yes, I'm a Christian (you heard me say it) but I prefer for it to show in my actions instead of my words.</li>
<li>Yes, I have done some terrible things in the past. Big sins. The kind of things that you don't want yo' mamma to know about. (Thank God for Grace)</li>
<li>Yes, sometimes I'm a joke. (Aren't we all?)</li>
<li>Yes, on some days I am a loser, but on most days, I am a WINNER!</li>
<li>I live my life everyday trying to improve myself and the lives of those around me.</li>
</ul>
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So, as an open announcement to my ex-husband. Keep sending those ugly texts. They make me laugh. They make me appreciate that I have moved on. They make me realize now more than ever that I can be a Christian, even though I sin every day. Your threats don't scare me.</div>
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And to the rest of you who might be reading this, sorry for blog-vomiting all over you. :) </div>
Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-88653980912872007682013-08-14T16:40:00.003-05:002013-08-16T21:41:30.195-05:00Happiness Happens in my world<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimb1_caAfXuNTS4R3hvSduSGGMtIUrC1h4xWzJCPXh_L53qmzwvmWfegl22I0TlNMF0avhvbDwPJ6TjwEFrC6TGFx9o0hhzdWXbjEt6zrTQcVyZHQ57ZvH3MtAAQFQP2u1bF0C81YCW8U/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimb1_caAfXuNTS4R3hvSduSGGMtIUrC1h4xWzJCPXh_L53qmzwvmWfegl22I0TlNMF0avhvbDwPJ6TjwEFrC6TGFx9o0hhzdWXbjEt6zrTQcVyZHQ57ZvH3MtAAQFQP2u1bF0C81YCW8U/s200/1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Happiness doesn't just happen . . . or does it? I've recently been on a journey to answer that question. If you'd like to save time reading this entire blog, I'll answer the question for you right now. Yes, yes it does just happen. I could stop right there, but you know I won't.<br />
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A few months ago, I was in a very sad and dark place. I didn't really
understand why I couldn't get happy. I didn't like how I was feeling,
yet I didn't know how to get out of it. Sometimes we all fall into
ruts. I'm so fortunate to have two friends that recently pushed me and made me understand that I get what I put out into the world. In my darkness, I
was putting out darkness. One day I was scrolling through my Facebook
feed and ran across a post calling for people to sign up to be Happiness
Happens Ambassadors for the <a href="http://www.sohp.com/" target="_blank">Secret Society of Happy People</a> for the
month of August. Ooooh, that sounded fun. I immediately went to the
website and signed up, not thinking about the responsibilities that
might ensue. Within a few days, I had committed to hosting a Happiness
Happens Celebration at <a href="http://www.bowlholidaylanes.com/" target="_blank">Holiday Lanes</a>. I didn't even know what that
looked like, but I set out to make it happen. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIkUHS4hk9fM8VP-LVkVY-sd7dXPouPYzDMPwqpk0F1JUTva7hrqTXEa8FZ8qfgYa49tVhVjM-l0R_25IbhiXD6OQpEWKB_0gEbOD5fYd1bB1sBSmu0YoqzXr5cDKvXcyE41FcHWMv33E/s1600/1098062_10151557148212997_181137037_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIkUHS4hk9fM8VP-LVkVY-sd7dXPouPYzDMPwqpk0F1JUTva7hrqTXEa8FZ8qfgYa49tVhVjM-l0R_25IbhiXD6OQpEWKB_0gEbOD5fYd1bB1sBSmu0YoqzXr5cDKvXcyE41FcHWMv33E/s200/1098062_10151557148212997_181137037_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-9LGRAALDDWZxyG6vibkyQAvyds1GMfSHT71gWjeygaWvn4oBahz11EqpQI949pr9gDNljGuVVYgdx_VwyiaNi4TK5q3yk0PFin0XjSqJQvhLLYKI7qyalzvJksCzTIVnl2caD3XHi9s/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-9LGRAALDDWZxyG6vibkyQAvyds1GMfSHT71gWjeygaWvn4oBahz11EqpQI949pr9gDNljGuVVYgdx_VwyiaNi4TK5q3yk0PFin0XjSqJQvhLLYKI7qyalzvJksCzTIVnl2caD3XHi9s/s200/photo.jpg" width="200" /></a>After only a week I was
pushing happiness. Every thought, every action, every breath was
happiness and take a guess . .. happiness happened in my
world. Instantly happy things started happening in my life. Just the
shear energy that I was pushing was filling my mind and soul with joy
and enthusiasm. The celebration ended up being a success and far exceeded anything that I imagined.<br />
<br />
Happiness is happening more in my world now that I've embraced the
power of how I think and do. The words that I say and think really do
have power. Power to create darkness or power to create happiness. As a
<a href="http://www.sohp.com/" target="_blank">Secret Society of Happy People</a> Happiness Happens Ambassador I have
committed to follow this simple way of thinking:<br />
<ul>
<li>Recognize my happy moments with the same enthusiasm as I recognize my unhappy moments.</li>
<li>Encourage others to talk about their happy moments too.</li>
<li>Don’t unnecessarily rain on other people’s parades.</li>
</ul>
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Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I live in this dream world where I am happy everyday. I'm saying that I choose to see the positive side of things and that in-turn creates the ability for my world to be happy. My new friend <a href="https://plus.google.com/u/0/115924317000307071612/posts" target="_blank">Pamela</a> says it best, "Sometimes, we need to feel our unhappiness, which ironically makes room for us to feel happiness too." There are a few things in my life that I have found to help me create happy personal moments. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOXbn4yzYPh5jzZjqZrK5Jof1uH4rdHVdDKS0rLCfcyT46ANqXAfCYqFLTobZMUBf6WuFFKx7uojzZhKvHNvoVyTuDssGh4dHQTsMxVFvbPCyLX2iLs5NhZ4NQ97O1x0XjKPYsPVv7uA/s1600/Happiness_Happens_Back_tshirt_yellowbgrd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOXbn4yzYPh5jzZjqZrK5Jof1uH4rdHVdDKS0rLCfcyT46ANqXAfCYqFLTobZMUBf6WuFFKx7uojzZhKvHNvoVyTuDssGh4dHQTsMxVFvbPCyLX2iLs5NhZ4NQ97O1x0XjKPYsPVv7uA/s200/Happiness_Happens_Back_tshirt_yellowbgrd.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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For me, Happiness Happens when:<br />
<ol>
<li><b>I smile</b> - Smiling is a fun thing to do. I'm not sure why but walking around with a smile makes me feel happy. It makes people smile back. Wow! Have you tried that? It really works. I often wonder if they smile back because it makes them happy or if they are trying to figure out what the heck is wrong with me.</li>
<li><b>I wave at people</b> - My daughter and I like to wave at random people. Her step-mom shared a game called "Sweet or Sour". When you wave at someone and they wave back they are "sweet", no wave - "sour". It's great for a laugh. It's also fun to see the looks on faces. Often you can see the look of "do I know that person?". </li>
<li><b>I write handwritten notes</b> - In this electronic age, handwritten notes are almost a thing of the past. I try to write several notes every month. Just random notes to let people know that I'm thinking of them. Thank you notes are a must in my household. My grandmother is a stickler for this and I hope to continue that tradition in my kids. Writing the note creates happiness for me and my hope is that the person receiving the note gains a bit of happiness too.</li>
<li><b>I give help, but allow help</b> - I'm a giver by nature. I love to help people, groups and organization by giving of my time and sometimes resources. Many times, I will give when I have nothing to give. (Not usually a good thing to do). In times of my own need, I rarely will let anyone help me or even know I need help. I would much rather suffer. Those two friends I was talking about earlier have helped
me GET that allowing people to help me gives them the gift of happiness. Pride gets in our way. I have learned that helping is good, but allowing someone to help me can sometimes be even better. I'm still working on this one because I have a hard time letting go.</li>
</ol>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBKSw44phXqAN7R9nAkLfkvaIOFcjcZBUrbzgmZdvW2PlTmBoRWKBU-LHasExJmb9ht6xtAJSpm2D3X3y1N9D-kApMJQqoiHizOcTNUOFrN1qwQbWLd7aMG61hl_ysZXbcGWHwFdsI30/s1600/1009846_10201042697842766_1395406434_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVf5YBBN9BfKFrWGmsDSTaDH7Hw2en_u6WEgcLllCdipZodHvQzrRlElFYBCp5JMFQKpaijKqXTK10_AtLUP4qITuuvd2aZRlemNsbITQcvoitYNTmMohzLpxm3zaTLLLFtrnnN5R3dBU/s1600/1009846_10201042697842766_1395406434_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVf5YBBN9BfKFrWGmsDSTaDH7Hw2en_u6WEgcLllCdipZodHvQzrRlElFYBCp5JMFQKpaijKqXTK10_AtLUP4qITuuvd2aZRlemNsbITQcvoitYNTmMohzLpxm3zaTLLLFtrnnN5R3dBU/s200/1009846_10201042697842766_1395406434_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>Ok, so there is this one thing. With this happiness came a realization that I had some responsibility. I'm an over-sharer on social media. I know it, everyone knows it. Within a few days of posting about happiness, I came to understand that in the past I may have unnecessarily rained on people's parade. I am hoping to be more conscious when I post. Don't judge me too harshly if I occasionally fail. <br />
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So at the end of this rant, I just want you to know that happiness happens in my world and it is possible to have happiness in yours. Share happiness. Celebrate happiness. Be happiness.Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-39591968383601570692013-08-14T11:16:00.001-05:002013-08-14T11:16:50.650-05:00TOOMASOOBA: Happiness Happens Day<a href="http://toomasooba.blogspot.com/2013/08/happiness-happens-day.html?spref=bl">TOOMASOOBA: Happiness Happens Day</a>: With coloring sheets and t-shirts in tow, I headed out to Happiness Happens Celebration Day in Bossier City this past Saturday. The event wa...Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-14817083011844782242013-06-16T03:31:00.000-05:002013-06-16T03:31:19.507-05:00My Two Dads<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivwDQti9jw-zIbstjsTxZlKbyGsxTB_7oT1tlzUAwmE3CmGXR6wzenm7lwxE1dAqEpNNzqzbq-4krrX4m6E4f_ziRC-HNQ00mAPXc8Szg7NrJo6Dwn4ljPNddhu6573rJs0cvoa78VZ7k/s1600/dads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivwDQti9jw-zIbstjsTxZlKbyGsxTB_7oT1tlzUAwmE3CmGXR6wzenm7lwxE1dAqEpNNzqzbq-4krrX4m6E4f_ziRC-HNQ00mAPXc8Szg7NrJo6Dwn4ljPNddhu6573rJs0cvoa78VZ7k/s320/dads.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Happy Father's Day to all those amazing men who pretend to love the ugly ties, soap-on-a-ropes, FroggToggs and photo coffee mugs. I am so blessed to have had two.<br /><br />For many years I was too afraid to speak about my two Dad's in a sentence together for fear of hurting the feelings of not only them, but other family members who might think I love one more than the other.<br /><br />My biological Dad and my Mom divorced when I was very young and then he died in a car wreck when I was 10 years old. Although I have few memories, the ones I do have are sweet. I remember his love for books, animals and nature. I often wonder what it would be like today if he were still alive. To Bill Rials I send Happy Father's Day wishes to heaven, I think of you often with love.<br /><br />Sometimes I feel guilty that I was so fortunate to have a super awesome guy who stepped in and became my Dad. It's a rare kind of guy who can be a DAD to another man's children, but that's just what I got when Mike Labry married my Mom, Kathy. I can't bring myself and will never call him my step-dad because that seems so disrespectful. He is the most loyal and honorable man I know. My DAD would lay down his life, not only for me, but for my children, Chase and Laura. I am so grateful and send love this Father's Day!</span></span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContentSecondary"><span class="fcg"></span></span></span></h5>
Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-16772468068974910282013-05-12T18:33:00.003-05:002013-05-14T07:21:24.905-05:00Butterflies for Mother's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWac3QgBUkvUpJkpJ91UcC9cweoNLyjtxIArj2pXinhYAz3e_-H5csEqSOeSQ1ZQM7oczeWt_B3tjoQ2yjVMEbtXT48_hyphenhyphen0IyzUvHALnEICvZhewc6Rn0YX9j7xUNoctvnucd75GLDQLg/s1600/ServeFile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWac3QgBUkvUpJkpJ91UcC9cweoNLyjtxIArj2pXinhYAz3e_-H5csEqSOeSQ1ZQM7oczeWt_B3tjoQ2yjVMEbtXT48_hyphenhyphen0IyzUvHALnEICvZhewc6Rn0YX9j7xUNoctvnucd75GLDQLg/s200/ServeFile.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
This year for Mother's Day, my son is out of the country and my daughter is fifteen. I wasn't sure I could get either of them to do anything fun with me for Mother's Day. When I saw on Facebook that <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Walter-B-Jacobs-Memorial-Nature-Park/133141696707908" target="_blank">Walter B. Jacobs Memorial Nature Park</a> was having a Butterfly Hike for Mother's Day, I took a chance and asked my daughter to join me. She said "yes" and for a week or so, my excitement was building. I've never gone on a butterfly hike and thought that it sounded like an excellent way to spend the day. My gift this year was Butterflies for Mother's Day.<br />
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<a href="http://www.caddo.org/Facilities/Facility/Details/Walter-B-Jacobs-Memorial-Nature-Park" target="_blank">Walter B. Jacobs Memorial Nature Park </a>is about 30 minutes from my town of Bossier City, Louisiana. The 160 acre park is dedicated to helping citizens of Northwest Louisiana connect with nature by conserving a pine-oak-hickory forest for interpretation and recreation. <br />
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As my daughter, Laura, and I arrived at the park, we first sat down at the picnic area and had lunch. We had never been to this park and were immediately struck by the surrounding nature and bird sounds. After eating, we went inside the Interpretive Building and explored the exhibits. We found examples of the many species of plant and animal life found in the Northwest Louisiana area. There was a working bee hive, a live soft shelled turtle, several varieties of reptiles and many preserved models of wildlife.<br />
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Laura and I were excitedly waiting for about 45 minutes for our hike to begin. John is the former park naturalist who would be leading our Butterfly Hike, he was filing in for the day. Along with John was Kim, the Park Ranger and Naturalist. There were several families who also came out to experience the nature walk. Each of the children were given butterfly nets to assist in our search for butterflies for Mother's Day. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt09op7oggcJXEaDzxvfHishD0mAwDik9DsuyZw6YwZaDb6RfUTjpD45_iZjGUIVp5oZ6fMvozO2QvxUgezVZV8CSrpQCB7rrQ4RrhCONZSEFQEIrr1k3gZy3eFto1RU5B2OPhNr3ClzY/s1600/photo+32.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt09op7oggcJXEaDzxvfHishD0mAwDik9DsuyZw6YwZaDb6RfUTjpD45_iZjGUIVp5oZ6fMvozO2QvxUgezVZV8CSrpQCB7rrQ4RrhCONZSEFQEIrr1k3gZy3eFto1RU5B2OPhNr3ClzY/s200/photo+32.JPG" width="200" /></a>John started the walk by explaining to us that there were three things that we might see on the hike: butterflies, moths and skippers. We would focus just on butterflies for the day. We learned that butterflies usually held their wings straight up and together when they landed. We were told that because butterflies don't get very much salt in their diet that they would often land on humans to lick the sweat for salt.<br />
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So off we went in search of butterflies. John told us many ways to look for butterflies. He told us to always look for the flowers. Not just any flowers, but the types of flowers that are made specifically for butterflies. Flowers that are fragrant, have nectar and also have petals that are flat for landing. Butterflies are cold-blooded, so like to sometimes lay their wings in the sun to get warm. He also said that butterflies have scales on them to protect from getting caught in spider webs. Very interesting stuff. We saw several butterflies and caught a moth or two along the way. <br />
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Is it a Butterfly, a Moth or a Skipper?</div>
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In addition to the search for butterflies, we were exposed to many of the beautiful plant life found in the woods of the park. We were shown the milkweed, the may apple, thistle and the sassafras. John (with permission from the park ranger) pulled a sassafras root and let us smell it. ROOTBEER!! It smelled like rootbeer. In fact, sassafras makes rootbeer and gumbo file'. But my favorite plant in the woods was the honeysuckle. It's been many years since I pulled the stem from a honeysuckle and licked the nectar. That sure brought back memories. It was fun watching all the kids licking their honeysuckle stems.<br />
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If you haven't had a chance to visit this park, I recommend that you make plans to do so. It's a great place to take a hike and reflect on nature. There are five miles of hiking trails with wayside exhibits, a picnic pavilion, an herb garden, an outdoor area with captive raptors and deer. <a href="http://www.caddo.org/Facilities/Facility/Details/Walter-B-Jacobs-Memorial-Nature-Park" target="_blank">Walter B. Jacobs Memorial Nature Park</a> is located at 8012 Blanchard Furrh Road, Shreveport, Louisiana and is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday 8:00 am to 5:00 pm and Sunday 1:00 pm to 5:00 pm. (answer to the video is: Goat weed leaf wing butterfly)<br />
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I've scanned the brochure of <a href="http://creativeideasite.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/wbj_events.pdf" target="_blank">upcoming events for Summer 2013</a>, check it out!<br />
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Keep on livin' it up!<br />
Robin Rials Williams<br />
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<u>Soft Shelled Turtle</u></div>
Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-51556463422647868762013-05-10T22:58:00.000-05:002013-05-24T20:28:12.308-05:00Zippin' Right Along<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvhsMwgM0gbdE9zfUp2H679CQBvDSTxNr8XOusxFPB1NtVB61cBrFZuZnglXGwaeZjr_vwpdnTQlEjH2TLAckDygbedK1v_u9NDLrSK9iZnE-NuoZUK3xAfpSXYXb3V0dNQ4j7jQOSSM/s1600/842991_485870254783126_864231812_o.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Gators and Friends Zip-lining Adventure" border="0" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvhsMwgM0gbdE9zfUp2H679CQBvDSTxNr8XOusxFPB1NtVB61cBrFZuZnglXGwaeZjr_vwpdnTQlEjH2TLAckDygbedK1v_u9NDLrSK9iZnE-NuoZUK3xAfpSXYXb3V0dNQ4j7jQOSSM/s320/842991_485870254783126_864231812_o.png" title="Gators and Friends Zip-lining Adventure" width="320" /></a></div>
Who says there is nothing to do in <a href="http://shreveportbossierfunguide.com/" target="_blank">Shreveport-Bossier</a>? Whoever it was, doesn't know what they are talking about. Besides the awesome bowling facility that is <a href="http://www.bowlholidaylanes.com/" target="_blank">Holiday Lanes</a> (shameless plug), there's an awesome attraction just west of our area: <a href="http://www.gatorsandfriends.com/index.php" target="_blank">Gators and Friends</a>. If you haven't been to Gators and Friends, it's an exotic haven for alligators, camels, llama's and other animals that you may not have ever seen. But, I don't want to really talk about the animals right now. <br />
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Today I experienced the newest addition at their outdoor adventures: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zip-line" target="_blank"><b>Zip-lining</b></a>! This adventure has been officially insured and open to the public since yesterday, so I felt like I was one of the lucky firsts in our area to experience an adventure over alligators.<br />
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I serve on the Shreveport-Bossier Convention and Tourist Bureau Attractions Association with Jim, the proprietor of Gator and Friends<b>. </b>I knew the zip-line adventure was coming to our area. I also knew that the zip-line would go over alligators, which created a thrill and a bit of fear in me.What I didn't know was how cool the actual venue would be. I drove out thinking there would be one cable that simply allowed you to zip over a couple of gators. Oh my, no! There are seven, count them, seven towers that whiz over alligators, Claude the Camel, frolicking ponies and a massive Scottish cow.<br />
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Arriving at Gators and Friends, I kind of pushed my fear down into my belly. I have decided that I want to start doing the things that scare me. As I was suiting up in the safety gear, I actually didn't feel any fear, but before starting I still asked my guide, Kent, the question "if I'm too scared after the first zip, can I climb down and walk back to base?". The answer was "yes", but I could tell it really was "no". It's only when I began climbing the first tower that I started feeling a little queasy. Kent assured me that I would have a blast and in the end, he was right. Safety is a top priority with Gators and Friends and at no time did I ever feel concerned. Before you knew it we were all zippin' right along.<br />
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The seven zip-line towers are strategically placed throughout the park to give you a glimpse of both the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Menagerie" target="_blank">menagerie</a> and the wooded scenery. Each tower seems to get a little higher than the last and it is an exhilarating feeling as you glide from one to the next. Although, I will admit that a few foul words escaped my mouth as I hurtled toward the approaching towers. Amazingly, I had no feelings of fear, even at the heights that we climbed. Scaling the tower steps was probably more frightening than the whole adventure, but moderate overall. Imagine a spiraling staircase as tall as a pine tree - a tad wobbly, to say the least.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Zip-Lining Gang</td></tr>
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There were three other tourists from the Fort Worth area that were in my zip-lining gang. We became instant friends. We had so much fun, singing and joking along the way. Encouraging each other and whooping it up. The last tower (#7) is a double cable that allows two people to race over the alligator pit. This was too much fun. We noticed bubbles in the pond below and joked that it might be the last zip-liners being eaten by the gators. Our guides, Kent, Summer and Olga were super awesome and kept us safe and sound. In fact, Kent was so sweet and kept telling me how excited he was that I came out and faced my fear. He was a fabulous guide and made me feel proud of myself. The only way the adventure could have been better is to have a video or photo of myself actually zippin' right along, as proof that I did it. Jim says this may be a feature added at a later time.<br />
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Since it's only been open since yesterday, my guess is that most of you haven't been yet. Get your booty over there now! It's really an amazing adventure that you don't want to miss. <a href="http://www.gatorsandfriends.com/" target="_blank">Gators and Friends</a> is located 10 miles west of Shreveport, just off of Interstate 20 at 11441 Hwy 80, Greenwood, Louisiana. <span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"> </span><br />
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<i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">(Zipline Pricing:
Regular price is $70 but have an introductory reduced
price special on weekdays (Mon-Fri) of "half-price" $35 through May 31,
2013. Call (318) 938-1199 to schedule a tour.)</span></i><br />
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Keep on livin' it up!<br />
Robin Rials Williams <br />
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<b>UPDATE</b> - I went back again on May 24 with my daughter and friend (my new favorite activity). Not only was I a first customer, but I was the first repeat customer. How cool is that? Here's a video of my second adventure. (sorry about the portrait video orientation)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdFYYrtZfasimqWKPqXMZtOcchtpFXZ9q_HkTfU-W4G5Y4letDlaWXVHIn8cBC3FyQIdFKjDTbQXP5UT5Rokz9daqDFZJbL1Tnhpu_IVchuuRe2oghpjT5iMLcmAQ3FmCDSnGeLA9udWw/s1600/9899_10200576839356595_1461133136_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdFYYrtZfasimqWKPqXMZtOcchtpFXZ9q_HkTfU-W4G5Y4letDlaWXVHIn8cBC3FyQIdFKjDTbQXP5UT5Rokz9daqDFZJbL1Tnhpu_IVchuuRe2oghpjT5iMLcmAQ3FmCDSnGeLA9udWw/s320/9899_10200576839356595_1461133136_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the top!</td></tr>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/M_XKD2h0quk" width="420"></iframe></div>
Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-78477512019407716502013-04-09T01:11:00.001-05:002013-04-09T01:16:18.871-05:00This Tree<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0UHBFZtY2oexHvZ9jzD-PXhOuP-_4N2TwSRIPL9QYKR7-btVYcS9xZTMSlxjldyqva_Ray5ztT2vVNLYjrG_6FZMugwmCqD2epCq_3tGK3sBiCE8eCpcwx6itboFJM_Fs9TXhydT7Ko/s1600/blogger-image-1487040358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0UHBFZtY2oexHvZ9jzD-PXhOuP-_4N2TwSRIPL9QYKR7-btVYcS9xZTMSlxjldyqva_Ray5ztT2vVNLYjrG_6FZMugwmCqD2epCq_3tGK3sBiCE8eCpcwx6itboFJM_Fs9TXhydT7Ko/s320/blogger-image-1487040358.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This tree captured my attention. I’m not sure where my gravitation to trees comes from. I can see so much character in a tree. The tangled knots that grew from a twig. The arms that stretch in all directions. The scratches and cuts to the skin. The geometric shapes that form when looking through, instead of at, a tree. <br />
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Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0San Diego San Diego32.708186 -117.166085tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-1313265214657360522013-04-04T17:01:00.000-05:002013-04-04T21:35:01.251-05:00I'm not a cat person<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/AVvXsEgfFtlPFHZ1qluVH6ojFo72wHEyCwtG-fTnoZareTmGg7ahn3UsIPe0TS0lmr0YZeIb44fDSiEZ7uEPcJfYZeU6A8gAdtNfCdV-QMEjEx5ZNwxVbvZqnOeXldUuaF9kb1DCEtY-Y8zEK-A/s1600/582574_3841453427979_1195603484_n.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/AVvXsEgfFtlPFHZ1qluVH6ojFo72wHEyCwtG-fTnoZareTmGg7ahn3UsIPe0TS0lmr0YZeIb44fDSiEZ7uEPcJfYZeU6A8gAdtNfCdV-QMEjEx5ZNwxVbvZqnOeXldUuaF9kb1DCEtY-Y8zEK-A/s200/582574_3841453427979_1195603484_n.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not a cat person. ???</td></tr>
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I'm not a cat person. I never have been. Well, actually, when I was a young girl I loved cats. If I remember correctly, my grandmother said that I requested a blue cat birthday cake at some point in my childhood. (Maybe that's made up, IDK). I had a stuffed animal cat that I carried around until it was thread-barren. I used to chase kitties around my neighborhood, but that was when I was little. I must have had a run-in with a cat at some point, because I remember that for most of my life I have NOT been a cat person. In fact, I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that I hated cats.<br />
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<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/AVvXsEi6pUkH9dMB8xReyUR4uasMvCMY-YsszPCp1IwsUTHDmS9ziASQRHG4D56wnhX_r5WNxkcdYWTQSJAq6l3jpjn_f6iRgHkEIPBD8XKiLIn_4pebJe-ClsEuLK_fJmCyHUMYv0QUgPACU2g/s1600/photo-2.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/AVvXsEi6pUkH9dMB8xReyUR4uasMvCMY-YsszPCp1IwsUTHDmS9ziASQRHG4D56wnhX_r5WNxkcdYWTQSJAq6l3jpjn_f6iRgHkEIPBD8XKiLIn_4pebJe-ClsEuLK_fJmCyHUMYv0QUgPACU2g/s200/photo-2.jpg" width="182" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ziggy waiting to be adopted</td></tr>
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So why is it now, I have a cat? Not just any cat. Ziggy. Ziggy is the BEST cat. He's fat and fluffy. He can be sweet, but will scratch the crap out of me if he is done having his neck rubbed. He won't cuddle, but wants to be within 2 feet of me most of the time. He stays near my feet and I'm convinced that one day he will trip me and I'll be an old cat lady with a broken hip.I have this cat because my friend, Gabby, needed a collar for her cat and we decided to visit a nearby <a href="http://www.petsmart.com/" target="_blank">PetSmart</a>. If you weren't aware, <a href="http://www.animalwelfareinc.org/" target="_blank">Animal Welfare Inc</a> helps assist in the adoption of pets through PetSmart. Guess who was at PetSmart that lucky night? Yup, Ziggy. So . . . Gabby, my daughter, Laura and my friend, Robert, all thought that I should just get Ziggy that night. Uhhh . . . No . . . I'm NOT cat person! Secretly, I left that night with the cat on my mind. It took me over a month to get over myself and adopt that sweet boy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE3KSTLd2mV7SudxgsqqVJeSBnQ0ikb6IjilDtVBRDUDogqwnj-r0jdFT31WPRckpeIn_LBGjIYB1Bv1AW6Z6pp5tciPcluBYSAojmoX-Jo8lisLnRhtkK_iz_1ssuP7UTLynZXd52_NA/s1600/photo.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/AVvXsEiE3KSTLd2mV7SudxgsqqVJeSBnQ0ikb6IjilDtVBRDUDogqwnj-r0jdFT31WPRckpeIn_LBGjIYB1Bv1AW6Z6pp5tciPcluBYSAojmoX-Jo8lisLnRhtkK_iz_1ssuP7UTLynZXd52_NA/s200/photo.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ziggy on alert</td></tr>
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I recently got a new office desk. It's positioned right next to a double window overlooking my front yard. Ziggy has decided to stake claim to this desk, along with the windowsill, as HIS domain. Considering that I work from home, I'm wondering if I can consider him my assistant. He definitely helps. He alerts me to any stranger danger lurking. He actually growls like a dog if someone walks in our yard or parks their car in front of our house for too long. The funniest thing that he does is pull down the window blind if he can't get the view he needs. Needless to say, this cat keeps me entertained, if not sometimes a little distracted when I'm trying to work.<br />
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Have you noticed? I love this damn cat! Not just like him. I LOVE
him. Ziggy has brought such joy and silliness to my life. He makes me
laugh daily. He has brought such a calming presence to my home. And now, I've reduced myself to taking stupid pics and posting them on Facebook and Instagram. Yes, I'm one of "those people". <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0NJ8oR2R6z1TWikv0V2D0J2j-0pxuKmu4UnfRjiHzh0h3b6E4P_IHcPZDK4QsY-hfjE9PwXw_j1nArHAAaXYeYr4Z-Gqtv4tw8khddw7n-4QAOORbU6zfNFSwtvhvdoc6oK4csFg1JLw/s1600/ziggy_cover2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0NJ8oR2R6z1TWikv0V2D0J2j-0pxuKmu4UnfRjiHzh0h3b6E4P_IHcPZDK4QsY-hfjE9PwXw_j1nArHAAaXYeYr4Z-Gqtv4tw8khddw7n-4QAOORbU6zfNFSwtvhvdoc6oK4csFg1JLw/s400/ziggy_cover2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Ok, so maybe I'm a cat person. I guess it's not the worst thing I could be.<br />
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If you are interested in becoming a cat or dog person, or if you already are one, consider adopting one of these FURever friends. Contact Animal Welfare, Inc., P. O. Box 4797, Shreveport, Louisiana 71134-0797, (318) 221-0053, <a href="mailto:awi@bayou.com" target="_blank">Gloria Freeman</a>, President. <b></b><br />
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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/AVvXsEhQH_ZNpIvc26lYlbtZi1HTxs0xYlz-zUvl3VlGzE3o0KeokESBBq1sjskKdy8QHtOBJYvSVHI7bM0mvG_3d-jJoa2mXfz7X0zgBMld7GeUSI7r8CO2-f_8XyqiKPe1R-2-Y80iSYahCHI/s1600/ziggy_lizzard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQH_ZNpIvc26lYlbtZi1HTxs0xYlz-zUvl3VlGzE3o0KeokESBBq1sjskKdy8QHtOBJYvSVHI7bM0mvG_3d-jJoa2mXfz7X0zgBMld7GeUSI7r8CO2-f_8XyqiKPe1R-2-Y80iSYahCHI/s400/ziggy_lizzard.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">My cat's approach to lizard catching</span></span></td></tr>
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<br />Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-7061431605509876632013-04-03T21:25:00.000-05:002013-04-04T21:29:32.788-05:00Bowling 2.0 featured in International Bowling Industry Magazine<br />
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<img alt="International Bowling Industry Magazine" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfZKJyeXZKpzCQIFf0i6m3So33YbeHlvEiFSsyciNuzmVcmIW4Q0WivqyIM3_3Im32nAPFtxMkMSiOR5WRbyD6Y8YaRw-CeP33idXQXLcnQRi7mJsRKDkAjKKeTPkTrVm__vR6w_PeGgg/s320/intbowmag.jpg" title="International Bowling Industry Magazine" width="237" /></div>
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<a href="http://www.bowlholidaylanes.com/" target="_blank">Holiday Lanes</a> is excited to be assisting in the development of the new BPAA Bowling 2.0 Program, featured in the March 2013 issue of INTERNATIONAL BOWLING INDUSTRY MAGAZINE. <br />
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<a href="http://issuu.com/sfrager/docs/april_13_complete_book/1?mode=window" target="_blank">Flip to pages 20-31</a> to read more about the Bowling 2.0 ProgramSocial_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-2813794030658466582013-02-05T00:15:00.001-06:002013-07-21T22:49:53.072-05:00It's about fun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.bossierpress.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=9477%3Aprofiling-women-in-business-its-about-fun&catid=1%3Alocal-news&Itemid=134" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="It's about fun" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MKhd0uhCRznqjnUHegjc7reuycy8mqL1ZvaXZPyRhGjQBc1XfOqOtAOmi6-_-ChbzbCUmVBb42-2cQwCz47-iBC76rg3FN1H0FVkU63L8mk7Tc8vdRxvmJ1l6qaOop8gxRbS-WDzcYs/s320/bpt_2_1-!3.jpg" title="It's about fun" width="165" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">I was so stunned to be featured on the cover of the February1, 2013 issue of the <a href="http://www.bossierpress.com/" target="_blank">BOSSIER PRESS TRIBUNE</a> and representing <a href="http://www.bowlholidaylanes.com/" target="_blank">Holiday Lanes</a>.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><a href="http://nwlanews.com/bp-t/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=9477:profiling-women-in-business-its-about-fun&catid=1:local-news&Itemid=134" target="_blank">Click here to read more</a> about I have found the best and most fun job at Holiday Lanes in Bossier City, Louisiana.</span>Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-22469737774815329092013-01-02T14:09:00.000-06:002013-02-05T00:16:19.392-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://issuu.com/dspechtbossier/docs/nbm-january-2013/5" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiytAHkS7noFzQb8GYjOLQx8N44XuMcY0C9PsaWlKVQMfW7le7dIKn-hrylsb65PMDdCAYnkGp6J1PybFU16dtbffzbDclBY3G11H0Nszi-nZRUwTwNz5o8v1mutmwMzsNuPr_HCEKgKHk/s320/NWLA_Bus_Monthyl2.jpg" title="NWLA Business Monthly" width="300" /></a></div>
I'm honored to represent Holiday Lanes in the January 2012 issue of <a href="http://issuu.com/dspechtbossier" target="_blank">NWLA BUSINESS MONTHLY</a>.<br />
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<a href="http://issuu.com/dspechtbossier/docs/nbm-january-2013/5" target="_blank">Flip to pages 5</a> to read more about how I use social media in my super fun job as Marketing Director for Holiday Lanes in Bossier City, Louisiana.
Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0Bossier City, LA, USA32.5159852 -93.73212280000001332.301728700000005 -94.054846300000008 32.7302417 -93.409399300000018tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-49172255377245016692012-12-04T22:14:00.001-06:002012-12-04T23:24:18.705-06:00Time to get refocused on my weight loss<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ7dEDW3wbMU8OvGnIArQ9v3BtZWnw5rWsBOFKe8qm9n2JBnkzCFtZv-iRdYHJO2cG5AgfALrniqQ2V-E35yd93smtvoTx6CkuJcojXq-N4_GZifgGEt0pVnK8r_OLsLD5MATSr2K3KGM/s640/blogger-image-1563418902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Before and After Weight Loss Surgery" border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ7dEDW3wbMU8OvGnIArQ9v3BtZWnw5rWsBOFKe8qm9n2JBnkzCFtZv-iRdYHJO2cG5AgfALrniqQ2V-E35yd93smtvoTx6CkuJcojXq-N4_GZifgGEt0pVnK8r_OLsLD5MATSr2K3KGM/s200/blogger-image-1563418902.jpg" title="Before and After Weight Loss Surgery" width="200" /></a>Once upon a time I underwent gastric bypass surgery. I was very successful for about seven years and then I transitioned back to my old habits. I ran across this article that featured my story in SHAPE Magazine and am hoping that it will serve as a reminder that weight loss is a lifetime journey. <a href="http://www.shape.com/weight-loss/weight-loss-strategies/weight-loss-surgery-facts" target="_blank">Check it out</a> <br />
<br />Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-13698128444171662712011-12-20T11:59:00.009-06:002011-12-21T10:22:55.621-06:00My Life as a Facebook Narcissist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HfZThsSJojEMmsszUexngXIMofSp7wRYnKP15kp3fKFI05IiB-E7Mw-trUgRE7tPJOaOpwobvc22LU_XHK38zz2dj-KPwrubRwuSyBnDDCFFblhB7_evMgU9bZj2XSaqrBJMHnMrcGM/s1600/fb_narcissistic_comment2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HfZThsSJojEMmsszUexngXIMofSp7wRYnKP15kp3fKFI05IiB-E7Mw-trUgRE7tPJOaOpwobvc22LU_XHK38zz2dj-KPwrubRwuSyBnDDCFFblhB7_evMgU9bZj2XSaqrBJMHnMrcGM/s320/fb_narcissistic_comment2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="hw">(Previously titled Facebook: Narcissism or Consociation?)</span><br />
<span class="hw"> </span><br />
<span class="hw">Recently, a <a href="http://www.facebook.com/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> friend of mine posted a comment on her wall about frustration with people who, in her opinion, are plagued with <a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/narcissism" target="_blank">narcissism</a>:</span><br />
<span class="hw"> </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><i><span class="translationEligibleUserMessage">You can tell the people on FB who are narcissistic (i.e. absolutely in love with themselves) by the number of photos they post OF THEMSELVES!! LMAO! People, we know what you look like. 200 photos showing the same damn thing (YOU) is not interesting or exciting! SMDH!</span></i></blockquote><span class="hw">I don't think that the post was directed at me, but a</span><span class="hw">fter reading it, I started thinking about this and paused slightly to consider whether my posts were reflecting narcissistic behaviors. Let me say that I work in marketing and have several Facebook profiles that I maintain, so for the purposes of this blog, I am specifically talking about my personal page. </span><br />
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<span class="hw">I love the <a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/consociate" target="_blank">consociation</a> created by Facebook. I love everything about the friendly connections created and often check the status of friends daily. My favorite thing about Facebook is that it allows people to stay in touch with those who don't get to connect daily. The name "Facebook" in itself describes the point of it all. Seeing photos of "faces" is a joy and gives me great pleasure. I thoroughly enjoy friends who post photos of their children as it allows me to reflect on how much they have grown. My daughter lives over 500 miles away with her dad for a school year. Her step-mom posts pics regularly so that I can feel included in her daily activities. </span><span class="hw"></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="hw">Obviously, the point of my friend's post was that people love posting pics of themselves. Lots and lots of pics of themselves. She went on to say in an added comment:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><i><span class="hw">. . . </span><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show">I just don't feel the need to take hundreds of photos of myself & slap them all over my FB profile. It comes across as self-absorbed & narcissistic, and contrary to what the poster may think, it makes for a highly uninteresting FB profile.</span></span></i></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLdLAhlEvrHtLwCo2Xd5uyq7SaemGDhIloh52LU8CCfX660k6sJnwOHvWYv0jCosrpHMTUR4dRHHkpGprk8VyOzLbQhzW5-mD9EpAxFOGHQqV2lZpObHszyzkW1FdUTsqViRdk9qzVC0/s1600/iStock_000018428541Large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLdLAhlEvrHtLwCo2Xd5uyq7SaemGDhIloh52LU8CCfX660k6sJnwOHvWYv0jCosrpHMTUR4dRHHkpGprk8VyOzLbQhzW5-mD9EpAxFOGHQqV2lZpObHszyzkW1FdUTsqViRdk9qzVC0/s320/iStock_000018428541Large.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="hw"> While I completely get her point.</span><span class="hw"> I find it funny that she has been my one Facebook friend that I have longed to see in photos. You see, this friend is a reconnect from my high school years. When I first got the friend request, I'll be honest in saying that I couldn't quite remember the connection. I ran to look her up in our 1987 yearbook and had that "aha" moment: "Oh yeah, I remember her". I accepted the friend request, excited to see what she'd been up to. I wanted to see what she looked like, not because I'm shallow, but because I was genuinely interested in her life as an adult. At the time, I couldn't find one face photo of her. Every profile pic, had a lion in the place of her face. I thought, "ok, she is a private person". We have been friends on Facebook for a couple of years, and very rarely do I see her face on Facebook. I will say that she is a very interesting person, probably the most interesting of my fb friends. She is well traveled and wise beyond her years. She has a motivational fb page that allows her to share uplifting quotes and tips on living. I have noticed in some of her posts that she has a healthy amount of self love, but I would delight in seeing more of her face. While I appreciate her love for the lion species, it makes me want to say "you are a beautiful woman, stop hiding behind the lioness!" </span><br />
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<span class="hw">When I see photos of others smiling, it makes me smile. </span><span class="hw"><i>Seeing people happy, makes me happy.</i> </span><span class="hw">When I read posts of my friends going through a rough time, it makes me pause and say a prayer. </span><span class="hw">I checked my own profile, and definitely fit my friend's depiction of a narcissistic person, if you go purely based on the pics posted. I'll accept that label. I even noticed that my blog has a slide show of pics of me with my family. Geez - maybe I need therapy! I'm probably not going to change because I know that my family and some friends get the same joy that I get from their photos. </span><span class="hw"><i><b> </b></i></span><br />
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<span class="hw"><i><b>What do you think? Do you consider yourself narcissistic?</b></i></span>Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-65269357081331298622011-12-03T01:09:00.002-06:002012-12-04T22:20:44.822-06:00Going International<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://issuu.com/sfrager/docs/december11completeissue?mode=window&backgroundColor=%23222222" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijH_2u-yO92MTMUdTyHW4H-OUHTIndmzojR2FC4-0w2LQUs8A2dRzimDsEDtNVK_r4RGaI7c7hcirLlO_XHwgryPjJr0XD2dfFbg_oD6BRXLqu6NHBMBptTwVLcKEX5hVXtR0A31x5Afs/s320/bowling_industry_magazine_Dec2011.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
I'm honored to represent Holiday Lanes in the December 2011 issue of INTERNATIONAL BOWLING INDUSTRY MAGAZINE. <br />
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<a href="http://issuu.com/sfrager/docs/december11completeissue?mode=window&backgroundColor=%23222222" target="_blank">Flip to pages 21 - 26</a> to read more about my super fun job as Marketing Director for Holiday Lanes in Bossier City, Louisiana.Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com03316 Old Minden Rd, Bossier City, LA 71112, USA32.523758 -93.689877000000024-2.9271054999999961 -153.45550200000002 67.9746215 -33.924252000000024tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-53866611431309324552011-10-12T11:49:00.000-05:002011-10-12T11:49:34.425-05:00Bowling Pin Art: Creativity Flows for Breast Cancer Awareness<a href="http://creativeideasite.com/wordpress/?p=1320">Bowling Pin Art: Creativity Flows for Breast Cancer Awareness</a>Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-90133260568608583682011-09-19T14:25:00.001-05:002011-09-19T14:38:02.533-05:00A Homecoming Tradition: Mum's the WordFor any of you that know me personally, you already know that my daughter, Laura, is spending this school year with her dad in Kansas. Although I miss her tremendously, I am happy that she is able to spend time with her family there and still be strong in her self knowing that I love her and am OK with her being apart from me.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ODz5I_YWDv_sNHNNyUFlFu47u5-FtO5ldlAeWhkveTnvlaGKgJ-0w9vca4Nl0F3Grk23eaIhYLNYMIbSP_5dJktO3f4ypyBotzYvhyphenhyphenyqpsfhwX9BS4b85Ovgn5R1gA1fSynWcomzL-M/s1600/mum3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="195" width="129" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ODz5I_YWDv_sNHNNyUFlFu47u5-FtO5ldlAeWhkveTnvlaGKgJ-0w9vca4Nl0F3Grk23eaIhYLNYMIbSP_5dJktO3f4ypyBotzYvhyphenhyphenyqpsfhwX9BS4b85Ovgn5R1gA1fSynWcomzL-M/s320/mum3.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I received a text saying they don't have the traditional "homecoming mum" corsages in Kansas. My first reaction was "what the heck?!". I've been looking forward to making her homecoming mum for years. The tradition is apparently a Southern thing. The mum is the Pièce de résistance to many Southern girl's homecoming outfits. Typically, the bigger and gaudier, the better. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZFY7HR1oaIuSuA5lo9ebwdjlUnUsPBeqvmgUB17MUTIDTdUBz3yee4hJ0LGNBDsEeJ1IELzq7jy7v8zNA7q6cJNGXgX8Fj7F6UKznLCCk67MbImud-lIAwR9nPvVDAkwCgvexCgZD76A/s1600/mums.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZFY7HR1oaIuSuA5lo9ebwdjlUnUsPBeqvmgUB17MUTIDTdUBz3yee4hJ0LGNBDsEeJ1IELzq7jy7v8zNA7q6cJNGXgX8Fj7F6UKznLCCk67MbImud-lIAwR9nPvVDAkwCgvexCgZD76A/s320/mums.jpg" /></a></div><br />
A homecoming mum consists of the center flower, which can be live or made of silk, three to four feet of streamers with cowbells, ribbons, footballs, and symbolic trinkets relating to the school mascot. Add to the streamers, the name of the person wearing the mum, and their date(if they have one) with stick-on sparkly letters and the mum is complete. Some add plush animals and battery operated light strands to make it as unique as possible. Homecoming mums can be quite expensive. Some pay upwards of $100 for an arrangement that is sometimes bigger than the girl wearing it. In my town, you can even purchase pre-made pieces to add to your corsages at the corner grocery store.<br />
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This made me start thinking about homecoming in general.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhtPdrulNylOqD-4tj-0R7YMiHii-VDg3ql1fAWXswMUG_EWLtRCDDI3nvfTDr9QjHvt-J6pvqSWUVMSNOPxw40C0km9kbQGGhBwZIVdLzhpPEN4qHWbWciQcRq4kIVp5p3-JZGyoV0Qc/s1600/mums2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhtPdrulNylOqD-4tj-0R7YMiHii-VDg3ql1fAWXswMUG_EWLtRCDDI3nvfTDr9QjHvt-J6pvqSWUVMSNOPxw40C0km9kbQGGhBwZIVdLzhpPEN4qHWbWciQcRq4kIVp5p3-JZGyoV0Qc/s320/mums2.jpg" /></a></div>My first homecoming was at LaGrange Senior High School, freshman year. I still remember the night like it was yesterday. I remember standing in my front yard taking photos with my date - David, and my friends, Rachel, Mike, Chris & Lonnelle. This was before it was popular to have limos for homecoming, but for some reason I can't remember how we got to the dance. I do remember what I wore and being so nervous about my hair and make-up. Back in "the day", girls wore suits with skirt, jacket and hat. I had a charcoal grey suit with subtle pin stripes and of course the high neck frilly shirt. I remember the smells and the night air. I can still hear "Total Eclipse of the Heart" as we danced the night away. When I got home, I put my mum with the purple and white streamers in a clear box and packed it away with all of my other keepsakes. Can you believe I still have that mum somewhere in my attic?<br />
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The thought of my daughter not having a homecoming mum makes me sad. I have made several mums over the years for my son's dates, and for friends who didn't have it in them to make or buy one of their own. I have hot glue scars that will never go away. I proudly count them as motherly war wounds. The rug in my living room is set at an angle and one corner secretly hides a blob of homecoming mum hot glue under my couch. Not only is the homecoming mum an integral part of every Southern girl's homecoming wardrobe, it is also a bragging right of mothers throughout Louisiana and other Southern states. <br />
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I wish I had thought about making one sooner to mail to Laura. It might have been therapeutic and who knows, maybe Laura could have started a little Southern trend in Kansas. I'm afraid I may have waited too long. Shhh, Mums the word!Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-81488842062198347892011-08-19T00:14:00.001-05:002011-08-19T00:23:15.952-05:00Reflecting on my SonMy son, Chase, goes back to college this Saturday to begin his second semester. As I reflect on the past 19 years I am astounded at how quickly it went. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY9hyMR98nfRChEo1A_CL7CeJgbk6huZdNWBKOceVn9NBV5myuOIUi2-6UPlW6r72alG8ekFfhbeyvQP73E8bbvjrM7bJXKAmYGdJHzzMQrwHGleWgwrvaysjXpS3yUh5aIGkH36eaXMY/s1600/chase_fajardo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY9hyMR98nfRChEo1A_CL7CeJgbk6huZdNWBKOceVn9NBV5myuOIUi2-6UPlW6r72alG8ekFfhbeyvQP73E8bbvjrM7bJXKAmYGdJHzzMQrwHGleWgwrvaysjXpS3yUh5aIGkH36eaXMY/s320/chase_fajardo.jpg" /></a></div><br />
It seems like yesterday when I walked him into Mrs. Fajardo's kindergarten classroom. I remember how grown I thought he was that day. He was happy to start school, while it took everything in me to hold back the tears until I got to the parking lot. That day long ago has been on my mind all week. Each time that I see a little boy, it makes me gasp at how quickly my time with Chase went.<br />
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Watching my child grow into a man gives me great honor in being his mom. I know that while I played a part in his upbringing, I can't take all the credit. My parents and sister had a large influence in his life. The bond that he has with my dad is oak strong. There have been many people in our life that have contributed to the man Chase has become. Mr. Brian - his Sunday School teacher, Bro. Barry - our former pastor, his high school history teacher, along with a slew of friends and family. All of these people have lent their time to be a piece of the fabric of his life.<br />
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Chase is my oldest child and as a first child myself, I've always felt like I identified with him on many levels. My biggest hope was that he would be nothing like me. I was always introverted and hard on myself. I tried to please everyone and wanted to do everything perfectly. As I observe Chase, I see many of those traits that I had hoped would escape him. But, after thinking about it, I've realized that those traits are also what gives him tremendous compassion for others. It gives him drive to reach goals and it helps him to be humble. While Chase may be a lot like me, his individuality shines. His intellect far surpasses my own and he has a sense of loyalty and honesty that is rare today. His heart and soul shines with a funny mix of sarcasm and wit that balances out the seriousness that he carries. I respect Chase for rising to meet new challenges. He didn't always have any easy time. There were times that I made poor choices for him. Our family unit wasn't always a healthy place to be, but Chase didn't use that as an excuse. He used it to become stronger. His inner strength pushed him to rise above. My heart bursts with pride in knowing that he is a young man of solid character. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkqd4JGpwg0_AfhjO8IDypnrbaKEre_LD0aR4rwPnXqw3VCAom7TTCliC1OcILCTr2WeoofzK2GN8-JjNmuAHU1YBspT2eBwVQRnlesXBMRzahf5Pr8TNayzrSG8FfRU1D2kWML3VKZSg/s1600/chase_robin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="235" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkqd4JGpwg0_AfhjO8IDypnrbaKEre_LD0aR4rwPnXqw3VCAom7TTCliC1OcILCTr2WeoofzK2GN8-JjNmuAHU1YBspT2eBwVQRnlesXBMRzahf5Pr8TNayzrSG8FfRU1D2kWML3VKZSg/s320/chase_robin.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Reflecting on my son fills me with pride, happiness, love and hope for his future. <br />
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Thank you Chase for being an awesome son!<br />
Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-42034930141068535732011-08-03T23:56:00.006-05:002011-08-04T01:18:18.510-05:00What started as an experiment . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQivmwr5xVQtqnsWTRcbG16K883nF2PwIimtqQsaiIlFiq3Ovs_VXgqKNJNo-kXUBoLrAwf6n9VkV_NsduuMefltgDliuL9I7P-CXY8qBnhFvNAylR8Zx0v5wM7nlUSn3AwedWSjryr8/s1600/social-media-marketing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="121" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQivmwr5xVQtqnsWTRcbG16K883nF2PwIimtqQsaiIlFiq3Ovs_VXgqKNJNo-kXUBoLrAwf6n9VkV_NsduuMefltgDliuL9I7P-CXY8qBnhFvNAylR8Zx0v5wM7nlUSn3AwedWSjryr8/s200/social-media-marketing.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Social media is so much fun and consumes a large part of my life. The list of sites that I have joined is extensive. I am a fan of the obvious Facebook, Twitter, Four Square, GetGlue, and of course the latest, Google+. I often hear people voice worry over the idea of "checking in" on these sites. I've been warned about the dangers of home theft and of course stalking issues. I can't say that it's ever deterred me from earning my Four Square badges or loyalty discounts. <br />
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A few weeks ago, my daughter's step-mom, Nicole (who happens to be my friend), invited me to spend a week of "girl-time" on the beautiful beaches of Florida for some relaxation time. I really wanted to go, but did not commit. The girls arrived in Florida on Monday and each day they begged me to come. I continued to say no. Since my daughter had left the week before to spend a school year with her Dad and Nicole, I really started missing her. I decided that I would show up as a surprise. I did not know where the girls were staying in Florida, but if I asked for directions it would spoil the surprise. I noticed on Nicole's Facebook page that she checked in when they arrived at the beach. The check-in even included a map. It made me wonder if I would be able to find them on the beach based on the check-in. So, my experiment began. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsAaZt997L8fXlgZ0QPjSxf_dpzeCtpBOm_RMm9no3s0rmuKyycO8ETwHVJfMOkfHeFwF75reRWFEtF0XK1eLX9Jb1W553Gj3Q3LvNLL_v7yCVfMfjF9jD0fVvs_Di-Pqwcv2rYiKBHj4/s1600/map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="118" width="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsAaZt997L8fXlgZ0QPjSxf_dpzeCtpBOm_RMm9no3s0rmuKyycO8ETwHVJfMOkfHeFwF75reRWFEtF0XK1eLX9Jb1W553Gj3Q3LvNLL_v7yCVfMfjF9jD0fVvs_Di-Pqwcv2rYiKBHj4/s200/map.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I hit the road on Friday morning using the check-in location to plug into my iPhone Google Map. 9 hours and some minutes later I arrived in Ft. Walton Beach. I pulled into one of the condo parking lots on the Santa Rosa Boulevard and walked out to the beach. Using a photo that my daughter had taken earlier in the day of her sister, I was able to find the condo building by matching the balcony similarities. I knew that I would find them on the balcony because I called a few minutes before my arrival and was told they were enjoying the view. The first thing that I did was post a picture on my Facebook wall of the beach with a caption "I love the beach" and tagged both Nicole and my daughter, Laura. After a few highly anticipated seconds I had no response. Can you imagine . . . seconds going by with no response on a Facebook post? (HA!) It took me about 5 minutes to spot my daughter on the seventh floor balcony. Yelling her name from the white sands below, she waved back at me like it was no big deal. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHs2s4ngNVdfkritFB3NKIMkgHORNjjjOtjHru4x2Q8yzDpn6PWtgMhwwaAEcTLAu6H4nOWy0I4ZCjgEQzxRAGB0nqmLfnlApOj-8hKFuGwOhZbA_Ot62BUgxDsdMfdebI5HVvPPmziJ4/s1600/laurajump.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHs2s4ngNVdfkritFB3NKIMkgHORNjjjOtjHru4x2Q8yzDpn6PWtgMhwwaAEcTLAu6H4nOWy0I4ZCjgEQzxRAGB0nqmLfnlApOj-8hKFuGwOhZbA_Ot62BUgxDsdMfdebI5HVvPPmziJ4/s320/laurajump.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Within seconds she realized it was me and let out a "Mommy!" that made me happy that I had made the drive. She ran, no I think she flew, down the stairs within a matter of seconds and literally knocked me to the ground with a hug. She almost made me drop the bottle of wine that I had brought for Nicole from a Louisiana vineyard. That would not have been good!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1NOETgNhVt6Vt4Nto_113dHKI8840Tgdt9HjToRd9aKRAsiiWBnPlumVKvwzPrgprZeamj1M81MUK89azJIbeYBmQkXPtBASHSgdnRS-fP73rWPmK2LeWhQaG1mNWahVgGREZfLJkdB0/s1600/girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1NOETgNhVt6Vt4Nto_113dHKI8840Tgdt9HjToRd9aKRAsiiWBnPlumVKvwzPrgprZeamj1M81MUK89azJIbeYBmQkXPtBASHSgdnRS-fP73rWPmK2LeWhQaG1mNWahVgGREZfLJkdB0/s320/girls.jpg" /></a></div><br />
As I was talking with a very shocked Nicole, we both were not sure if we should be happy that I found them or a little bit scared. Although social media is hip and cool or whatever the "in" word might be, I guess the value of the "check-in" is one to be considered carefully. I knew that I could have just as easily found the girls by making a phone call, but it was so much more fun to drive across several states thinking of ways to surprise them. I spent the week sunning in the beautiful 91 degree weather, while reading tweets and posts about the 107 degree heat back at home. It was a great girls week that started as a fun experiment.Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-89427752272945145282011-05-31T16:55:00.000-05:002011-05-31T16:55:24.613-05:00Groovin' Girlies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8qZVpKF-NKv47LqWoCE5Yp6uLp3FyXskzIpK7b7XLUqYnQo-QmE0SS5rTO7u3fvxpJjR83QPv8sUw5_dl56jW4YLl9fhzQXnkBxfka5kUFynxf1jZa9FNM5KBiar6asP2Dwt2wFXCpg/s1600/week1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8qZVpKF-NKv47LqWoCE5Yp6uLp3FyXskzIpK7b7XLUqYnQo-QmE0SS5rTO7u3fvxpJjR83QPv8sUw5_dl56jW4YLl9fhzQXnkBxfka5kUFynxf1jZa9FNM5KBiar6asP2Dwt2wFXCpg/s320/week1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I am not a fitness fanatic. I am not an exercising enthusiast. I am not a healthy habitue'. What I am is a lazy lady who likes food. Now, don't get me wrong, I want to make better choices. I just seem to always find something better to do when it comes time to get my body moving. <br />
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I decided this week that I'm going to once again try to get into shape. My first step was to join the <a href="http://www.presidentschallenge.org/">Presidential Challenge</a>. The Presidential Active Lifestyle Award (PALA) is a six week challenge that is supposed to help you add activity to your life, and reward you when you do. I'm hoping this will keep me motivated. My daughter Laura has committed to join me in this adventure. To be honest, she is better about motivating me than anyone else. We started our challenge last night. We set up our login online, invited a few friends to join our group: "Groovin' Girlies" and logged our first days worth of activity. We were instantly rewarded with a gold spoke on the first week's star. One spoke down, four more to go this week. <br />
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Along with this commitment to exercise, I'm hoping to change my eating habits. I have struggled with my weight for years and know that if I ate right, my struggle would be over. I am determined that I won't give up this time. <br />
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Do you want to join me in this challenge? All it takes is making the first step. Join my group and perhaps we can stay motivated together. If you don't have an account, create a free account at http://www.presidentschallenge.org/, choose which challenge you want to participate in, and look up our group in the activity tracker using the group number below.<br />
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Group Number: 100707<br />
Group Name: Groovin' Girlies<br />
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They say if you do something for 21 days that it turns into a habit. Let's hope I make this a habit.Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-90727932123538758632011-05-03T23:28:00.004-05:002011-05-03T23:37:59.126-05:00Shades of GraySome people have a very "black and white" idea of the world . . . They see "right or wrong", "yes or no", "good or bad", "liberal or conservative". In many cases, there is no room for shades of gray. I appreciate other opinions and gain both intrigue and wisdom by listening to differing points of view. As I get older, I find that my range of gray is expanding. Where I once was set on certain principals and thoughts, I have learned that sometimes I gain more respect of other people by just opening my ears. Now, that doesn't mean I've shed my core values and beliefs. It just means that I'm open to the possibility that my opinion isn't the only right answer. <br />
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I was reared in a time when it was advised not to speak politics, religion or money. I always thought it was because it was nobody's business to know how you feel about these things. Now I clearly understand that it was because these topics electrify conversations and cause division between people. It is very dangerous when people believe that their way is the "only" way. Not only does it cause division, but in many cases it causes hatred and violence. Judgement and condescension breeds an unhealthy approach between seemingly sensible humans.<br />
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I don't know the answers to life's questions. I don't know who is going to heaven. I don't know who makes the best political candidates. I DO know that when I allow shades of gray into my thought process, I am more likely to find bits of knowledge that help me become more patient and kind to others. At the end of my life, I'd rather people remember me for being gracious and accepting, rather than bitter and close-minded.<br />
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So anyway, that was on my mind today,<br />
Robin<br />
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<i>Do not deceive yourselves. If any of you think you are wise by the standards of this age, you become "fools" so that you may become wise.</i> <br />
- 1 Corinthians 3:18Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-78074607038632571092011-04-20T02:43:00.004-05:002011-04-20T03:09:17.165-05:00Women who challenge me - part 2I feel bad telling people no. Even harder is to tell people what I want or need. So . . . I rarely do. I like doing for others and find satisfaction in making people happy. Yes, just call me "Ms. Pleaser." Sometimes, I have let this issue affect my life by making myself miserable, so that someone else can be happy. I've had friends and family tell me to stand up for myself, but I just assumed that it's one thing that I would have to figure out on my own.<br />
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For the past year or so, I found myself floundering about my future. I left a job that I loved and was trying to figure out what to do for the rest of my life. (One would think that by age 40 I would know by now. NOPE!) I was having an internal conflict. I knew what I wanted, but I couldn't verbalize it for fear of no longer being "Ms. Pleaser."<br />
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I was working as the Marketing Maven for the bowling center, but wasn't feeling it. I wasn't meshing in the environment. In the process, I was not pleasing myself or anyone else. I confronted my boss, Melanie, and she said something to me that, although I heard, I didn't process until later. She said: "You won't get what you want until you say what you want out-loud. No one knows what you want if you don't even know yourself. Don't worry if you don't feel deserving, let it be OK to get something that you don't deserve." Now, she communicated it much better than that. I'm paraphrasing because I can't for the life of me remember the exact words she used. (Maybe I should also work on my listening skills) <br />
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I worked for another couple of months for Melanie and then decided that I needed to find an environment better suited for me. I was fortunate enough to find a job at a local church. I've always felt that church work was the perfect place for me. It makes me want to be a better person. I enjoy helping people and the church has many avenues in which to do so. It was a month before I started working at the church and within the first few days, I knew I had made the wrong choice. It wasn't the right fit. But at that moment I knew that I had come to that place in my life where I had to please myself and no one else. Oh boy, this was going to be hard. I remembered the words Melanie told me. I had to say what I wanted and be OK with it. The hard part was telling my new boss at the church, after only a week, that I was quitting. I felt like I let him down in a big way. For a "pleaser", this was torture. It wasn't just the fact that I let him down, but that I was a quitter too. Ugh!! <br />
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In my conversations with Melanie, I verbalized exactly what I wanted. I wanted to work from a home office and be able to work on a schedule that allowed me to be more creative and more effective as her Marketing Maven. She took me back and since that time, I am no longer floundering. I have not looked at online job opportunities. I am as happy as a lark! I have exceeded my ability to be creative in ways that I didn't know that I could. I've actually started learning to say no to the things that I can't handle. It feels great! And on the days when I think I'm not deserving, I stop and think about what she said: "Let it be OK to get something you don't deserve".<br />
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I don't think I can ever express how much Melanie challenged me. (In a good way!) I am ever grateful for her outlook on life, work and fun. She encourages me to do the best work and brings out my full potential. Thanks Melanie - you have made a great impact on my life!Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-29550560371893220882011-04-03T13:10:00.009-05:002011-04-04T23:07:57.909-05:00An unexpected BFFI just returned from spending a week in Kansas. My daughter and I stayed in the home of Tom and Nicole: Tom, the man that I lived with for ten years, seven of which he was my husband; and Nicole, the woman he is now married to, along with their two children.<br />
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There are certain ideas about friendship that seem to be unwritten rules for society. One rule is that you are supposed to hate your ex-husband's wife. She's supposed to be the nasty step-mother to your children and the point of contention for many of your own inadequacies. This rule just makes it easier for you to say mean things and feel better about your pathetic self.<br />
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I guess I'm just not a rule follower, because I have found an unexpected friendship with my ex's wife, Nicole. She is one of the most awesome people that I know. Nicole is one of those people that is so full of love that you just can't help but love her back. <br />
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As I was planning the trip, I had every intention of staying in a hotel. I thought it would be best for my daughter, Laura, to spend her Spring Break with Tom's family without me there; not to mention it was just a little weird. Immediately, Nicole would not hear of it. She tried to convince me that she wanted me there because she was homesick for friends. She was excited about the idea of having someone to hang out with who was over the age of four years old. At first I said "no", stuck by my guns and even spent time on Priceline.com looking for an affordable hotel. Then Laura participated in a beauty pageant. I spent a little more money than I budgeted because it was just so darn fun to see her all "beauty'd" up. And then . . . gas prices!! Gee Wiz, they went up to $3.60 per gallon. Definitely a factor that I hadn't planned three months ago. So I broke down and decided that I would stay in their home. Apprehension dissolved as soon as I walked in the door. Tom and Nicole welcomed me into their home and showed me a great time.<br />
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Part of the trip was to acquaint Laura with her new school. Laura will be living with Tom & Nicole for her freshman year of high school. While I'm supportive of this decision, I wasn't sure I was going to like the idea of my baby living so far away from me for a whole school year. Nicole, Laura and I visited her new school and it was fabulous. The school is like a mini-college, with many wonderful academic opportunities. Now I'm not sure how I'm going to get Laura to come back home. In fact, it made me want to go back to school just so I can go there too.<br />
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A highlight of the trip was the fact that it overlapped with April Fool's Day. Nicole and I pulled off a hilarious joke on Tom. We told him that I was going to move back to Kansas, live in their basement for six months to a year, all on his dime. We were both surprised when he was ok with it. We had to push the envelope and say some really crazy things before he started to squirm. Nicole and I laughed until we cried. That sure told me that we were great friends!<br />
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My favorite experience from my stay was the love that I found in their home. I instantly fell in love with Nicole's two girls. I already had somewhat of a relationship with them, but this trip made me confused about who they are to me. I now have feelings for these two babies that I can't really quantify. I'm not going to even try. Love is love, no matter who the person is. This morning when I woke up in my own bed, I missed the sounds of Rebecca singing and Natalie getting ready for school. <br />
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I'm so happy that I had the chance to stay for a whole week in their home. It gave me a chance to see that Tom and Nicole are the perfect match for each other. And let me say, for anyone who knew Tom when we were married, this is not a bad thing. Tom has grown into a wonderful new man and only the shell remains of who he was when we were together (with a touch of the old passive aggressive behaviors - haha!). Nicole has done for him what I always wanted to do but couldn't. She has shown him what love in a family means. He is a great dad to his girls and a wonderful husband to Nicole. This was great to see and helps me move passed some of the anger that I've held for too long. One day, I'll be able to let go of it all and until then, hopefully trips like this will help.<br />
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Obviously, when I first knew of Nicole, I didn't want to like her, but it didn't take long for me to see the character of this woman. She loved my daughter so much that she wouldn't let me "not" like her. Within a couple of years, we tolerated each other. Another year and I really liked her a lot. I used to tell my friends that if she wasn't married to my ex-husband, I think we could be really good friends. After five or six years, it was at a point where I could say that we were really good friends, even though she was married to my ex-husband. During this week, my friendship with Nicole grew to a new level. And I can now say that I have found an unexpected BFF in Nicole.Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-25502933828474787192011-03-20T02:16:00.007-05:002011-04-04T23:02:09.167-05:00Women who challenge me - part 1I've always been a shy gal. I grew up hiding behind my mom and grandma's legs. As an adult I've struggled over the years with my shyness. Friends who get to know me find this hard to believe. After you get to know me, I'm anything but shy. In fact, friends laugh at the thought.<br />
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My early adult years were especially hard. I remember taking months to renew my drivers license because I would have to speak to someone at the counter. I was kind of a loner and often found myself eating lunch in my car so I wouldnt have to eat alone in the presence of others. In my mid-thirty's I decided that I'd had enough. I was assigned as a co-writer on a technical rule book committee. Afterward, I found myself as a trainer implementing the rules in training classes to railroad men. My fear of public speaking was tremendous. My face would get red, I couldn't breathe, and hives spread across my neck. But with this new assignment, I knew I'd have to overcome. I attended a workshop given by an awesome lady, Julie <a href="http://www.hilegroup.com/contactus.html">Hile</a>. Julie knew exactly what I needed to get me motivated. She was a fabulous coach and to this day I still find myself thinking about some of the techniques that she introduced to me. Julie empowered me to look beyond my fears and I was able to facilitate many training classes In the years to come. <br />
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I'm still frightened to get in front of a group, but each time that I do I gain more confidence. Julie helped me turn a corner in my life. Not only did she help me gain self-assuredness, but she helped me see my potential for future career opportunities. I'm not sure if Julie knows how much she impacted my life. I am truly thankful for Julie, who challenged me to face my shyness.Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9051282487777538684.post-85176308616987026562011-03-15T23:21:00.000-05:002011-03-15T23:21:04.188-05:00Still thinking . . .Haven't started my blog just yet. I'm formulating my thoughts because they are sometimes quite random. It is a bit revealing to let people read and comment on a blog. There is that fine line between "interesting" and "too much information". I definitely want to stay in the "interesting" category. <br />
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I do have a blog that focuses on my time as a volunteer Bossier Chamber of Commerce Diplomat. It basically celebrates and promotes businesses in the Bossier and Shreveport Community. <a href="http://www.diplomat.creativeideasite.com">Take a look</a>Social_Robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136092764004740392noreply@blogger.com0