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	<title>The Value Of Cheerfulness</title>
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		<title>The Value Of Cheerfulness</title>
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		<title>Hello world!</title>
		<link>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2011/01/31/hello-world/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 31 Jan 2011 08:56:00 +0000</pubDate>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Welcome to <a href="https://wordpress.com/">WordPress.com</a>. This is your first post. Edit or delete it and start blogging!</p>
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		<title>{ Mischief Maker }</title>
		<link>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/12/17/mischief-maker/</link>
		<comments>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/12/17/mischief-maker/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 17 Dec 2007 20:53:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>seachellegirl</dc:creator>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/12/17/mischief-maker</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[At 21 months Annabelle, is turning out to be a lot of things, most of which are entirely endearing. At this point, one thing our days are most certainly, would be um&#8230;anything, and I mean anything but dull. For instance, when you find a half a roll of wadded up toilet paper stuffed in the [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=seachellegirl.wordpress.com&amp;blog=19627001&amp;post=3&amp;subd=seachellegirl&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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<p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">At 21 months Annabelle, is turning out to be a lot of things, most of which are entirely endearing. At this point, one thing our days are most certainly, would be <span>um</span>&#8230;anything, and I mean anything <em>but</em> dull.</p>
<p></span></p>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family:verdana;">For instance, when you find a half a roll of wadded up toilet paper stuffed in the bottom of her potty chair which remains vacant, except for those few occasions when she sticks &quot;<span>hoppy</span>&quot; her favorite stuffed bunny, on it. That being said, the &quot;potty train&quot; is the new big thing around here right now. And her little potty chair sits <span>ceremoniously. </span>like a royal throne in the smack-dab middle of our living room floor. She is more than happy to run around naked, as she wants to be like her big cousin Jesse who&#8217;s just started riding the &quot;potty train.&quot; So we sing this silly song. And watch her like a hawk, to make sure we don&#8217;t end up with a puddle or worse on the floor. Occasionaly we bribe her with chocolate. Is that awful of us? Because it works. Just the other night, after her third try, she was promptly <span>rewarded</span>. That&#8217;s some serious motivation if you ask me.</span>
<li><span style="font-family:verdana;">She learned to say <span>pistachio</span> yesterday. Well, sort of. It&#8217;s something <span>reminiscent</span> to a cross between pea soup and statue. And if she&#8217;d been able to crack the shells open by herself, I fear the entire bag would have been *poof* gone in one sitting.</span>
<li><span style="font-family:verdana;">We were in the car yesterday when out of the clear blue, totally <span>uncoaxed</span> she counted to six. Well, she might have skipped four or something but I was floored. I really have no idea where she learned to count like that. Certainly not from me. I am still trying to get her to say A&#8230;B&#8230;.C&#8230;D instead of A&#8230;B&#8230;C&#8230;X.</span>
<li><span style="font-family:verdana;">So with a stack of Christmas Cards, just waiting to be addressed. My address book went missing. Not good. And I had the most sinking feeling about it in the pit of my stomach, as I have pulled out earrings, toothbrushes and books from the bathroom garbage can. What a relief it was then yesterday, thinking the worst had happened when I found it stashed in the bottom basket of her changing table, under a pile of diapers. </span>
<li><span style="font-family:verdana;">maybe the #1 piece of advice I have for people about to be responsible for a 21 month old, would be: Never take your eye off of them. Not even for five seconds. They are fast. Really fast. 21 months will be out the door and down the drive way, <span>lickety</span> split, in under 7 seconds. Or another example would be David and I, laughing about something at the dinner table, absorbed in the humor of the moment, while she sits across the table from us happily chugging away at the bottle of soy sauce. Our reaction to the s.s. <span>incident</span> : wide eyed horror. Hers, &quot; mmmm&#8230;salt&#8230;num, <span>num</span>! &quot;</span>
<li><span style="font-family:verdana;">and of course there are those times all I want to do is sit down and cry, but no matter how rough the day has been.. I can&#8217;t help but feel supreme joy. <span>Especially</span> with my hubs coming home to find his home a disaster area, his wife down-trodden and <span>frazzled</span>, <span>in spite</span> of which he says things like: &quot;Why do you think I married you?&quot; Then answering his own question with a &quot; so I could cuddle with you every night.&quot;</span></li>
</li>
</li>
</li>
</ul>
<p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/R2I8wpHcpZI/AAAAAAAABSY/VmETicOMBuI/s320/Picture+1825-1.jpg" border="0" /><br /></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Her eyes twinkle with <span>mischief</span>. And wonder. And magic. And laughter. And affection. And curiosity. And fun. And all I want is for mine to always twinkle back at her in unconditional love</span></p>
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		<title>FYI</title>
		<link>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/12/10/fyi/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 10 Dec 2007 17:06:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>seachellegirl</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[I have been so lax on updating my blog over here. Truth is I have a blog over at blogger and post almost exclusively over there now.    If you wish, please come and visit me there,   http://the-value-of-cheerfulness.blogspot.com/ but I promise to try harder to remember and continue posting here.<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=seachellegirl.wordpress.com&amp;blog=19627001&amp;post=4&amp;subd=seachellegirl&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div id="msgcns!E489A412E8B7BEF3!3788" class="bvMsg">
<div align="center"><font size="4">I have been so lax on updating my blog over here. Truth is I have a blog over at blogger and post almost exclusively over there now. </font></div>
<div align="center"><font size="4"></font> </div>
<div align="center"><font size="4">If you wish, please come and visit me there,   </font><a href="http://the-value-of-cheerfulness.blogspot.com/"><font color="#5c814e" size="4">http://the-value-of-cheerfulness.blogspot.com/</font></a><font size="4"> but I promise to try harder to remember and continue posting here.</font></div>
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		<title>Making the most of these December Days&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/12/07/making-the-most-of-these-december-days/</link>
		<comments>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/12/07/making-the-most-of-these-december-days/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 07 Dec 2007 20:35:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>seachellegirl</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[We had a weekend not unlike a winter fairytale.Friday night David and I kicked it off in styel with a date that included lots of smooching and hand holding , as we enjoyed the undivided attention we were able to give each other. We even squeezed in a little Christmas shopping and then on our [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=seachellegirl.wordpress.com&amp;blog=19627001&amp;post=5&amp;subd=seachellegirl&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div id="msgcns!E489A412E8B7BEF3!3764" class="bvMsg">
<div><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/R1Tgi67sqxI/AAAAAAAABNw/WGS8AL3Wqg8/s1600-R/Picture+557.jpg"><img src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/R1Tgi67sqxI/AAAAAAAABNw/spKsETXI8ZM/s320/Picture+557.jpg" border="0" /></a> We had a weekend not unlike a winter fairytale.<br />Friday night David and I kicked it off in styel with a date that included lots of smooching and hand holding , as we enjoyed the undivided attention we were able to give each other. We even squeezed in a little Christmas shopping and then on our way home, stopped to pick out a Christmas Tree to surprise the sweet girly-kins with. The entire evening left me refreshed, and romanced. And I must have had stars in my eyes that evening because I could <em>feel</em> them. The minute I opened the door, Annabelle Lucy slipped down from Aunt Lynne&#8217;s lap, face beaming and seriously <em>raced, </em>squealing across the room, and into my arms. Let me tell you, my heart skipped a beat. Who wouldn&#8217;t love to come home to that? To her. And David gets to do it 5 days a week. No wonder it&#8217;s his favorite time of the day. <img src='http://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
<p>Saturday morning we woke up to find snow falling outside our window, it felt like a gift, sent especially to us in honor of it very first day of December. So David and Annabelle played in the fluffy falling flakes and stacked fire wood , while I watched out the window and grinned at them, busy at the kitchen table, with my &quot; Project Christmas Money, &quot; going great guns. The snow stopped eventually but the fun didn&#8217;t as we brought in the Christmas tree, poured big mugs of egg nog and strung and hung to our, well maybe more like my, hearts content. Annabelle was full of delight over the whole process. &quot;Yites&quot; and &quot;balls&quot; and &quot;snowmens&quot; and most importantly of course,&quot;tandy-tanes.&quot; My tree is missing three of it&#8217;s Candy Canes this year so far, thanks to Anniebelles and her sweet tooth of a Daddy. Oh well, I suppose maybe I can overlook it, just this once.</p>
<p>I am predicting that the best thing about Christmas this year going to be continuing to watch our little girl discover and delight in life.</div>
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		<title>{ Melt My Heart }</title>
		<link>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/11/02/melt-my-heart/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 02 Nov 2007 07:19:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>seachellegirl</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Annabelle]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/11/02/melt-my-heart</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[    In three sentences. 1. &#34; Good job, Mommy! Good job, Daddy! &#34; Most enthusiastically repeated after we tell her so. 2. When I sneeze or cough or clear my throat, without fail: &#34;Bless you Mommy, bless you!&#34; 3. &#34; Pick-a-boo, Mommy!&#34; (meaning of course, peek-a-boo)           Posted by chelle [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=seachellegirl.wordpress.com&amp;blog=19627001&amp;post=6&amp;subd=seachellegirl&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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<h3><a href="http://the-value-of-cheerfulness.blogspot.com/2007/11/melt-my-heart_01.html"> </a><img src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RyoaOTlcbwI/AAAAAAAAA7A/uL6WmMfz6WQ/s320/Picture+831.jpg" border="0" /></h3>
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<div align="center"><strong>In three sentences.</strong></div>
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<div align="center"><strong>1</strong>. <strong>&quot; Good job, Mommy! Good job, Daddy! &quot;</strong> Most enthusiastically repeated after we tell her so.</div>
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<div align="center"><strong>2.</strong> When I sneeze or cough or clear my throat, without fail: <strong>&quot;Bless you Mommy, bless you!&quot;</strong></div>
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<div align="center"><strong>3.</strong> <strong>&quot; Pick-a-boo, Mommy!&quot;</strong> (meaning of course, peek-a-boo)</div>
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<h3> </h3>
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<p><span>Posted by <span>chelle</span> </span><span>at <a title="permanent link" href="http://the-value-of-cheerfulness.blogspot.com/2007/11/melt-my-heart.html" rel="bookmark"><abbr title="2007-11-01T10:55:00-07:00"><font color="#649a64">10:55 AM</font></abbr></a> </span><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35935732&amp;postID=1747623323434840226"><font color="#649a64">0 comments</font></a> </span></p>
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		<title>{ Talking up a Storm! }</title>
		<link>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/10/18/talking-up-a-storm/</link>
		<comments>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/10/18/talking-up-a-storm/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 19 Oct 2007 05:14:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>seachellegirl</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Annabelle]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[The following are some little vingettes taken from the day to day life of a happy 20 month old. Mine, to be exact. As well as a list I have been keeping of the cute things she says and how she says them. This is my favorite age so far. Sometimes she calls me &#34; [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=seachellegirl.wordpress.com&amp;blog=19627001&amp;post=7&amp;subd=seachellegirl&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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<h3>The following are some little vingettes taken from the day to day life of a happy 20 month old. Mine, to be exact. As well as a list I have been keeping of the cute things she says and <em>how</em> she says them. This is my favorite age so far.</p>
<p><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RxgWU06HfnI/AAAAAAAAAwA/Q9WOt3pkr20/s1600-h/Anniebelle+Lucy.jpg"><img src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RxgWU06HfnI/AAAAAAAAAwA/Q9WOt3pkr20/s200/Anniebelle+Lucy.jpg" border="0" /></a>Sometimes she calls me &quot; Mommy-Chelle&quot;<br />ocean ( osh-oon )<br />jacket<br />home<br />yes, yeah &amp; yep<br />puzzle<br />pumpkin<br />ready<br />thirsty<br />eat!&quot;<br />&quot;come !&quot;<br />She&#8217;ll say, &quot; No, mommy, no! &quot;<br />And after we&#8217;ve dealt with her on it , in a pitiful little voice, &quot; sorry, Mommy, sorry &quot;<br />high five- &quot; high tive&quot;<br />&quot;see _____&quot; she&#8217;s always wanting us look at something<br />&quot; dancing, dancing &quot;<br />band-aid, owie, bonk-o ( for bonk)<br />play &#8211; &quot;pay!&quot;<br />a flower is a &#8211; &quot; flowery &quot;<br />&quot;running, running&quot;<br />kick<br />&quot; lets read this &quot;<br />heart<br />apron<br />crocs<br />bottom &#8211; &quot; bummey &quot;<br />purse<br />love you- luuuvv-oooo<br />&quot; daddy&#8217;s truck &quot;<br />balloon &quot;boon&quot;<br />knock-knock<br />jammies<br />beautiful is&quot;boo-ti-full&quot;<br />pants<br />dress<br />she knows the names of all her body parts<br />music is &quot; moo-sic&quot;<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RxgvVE6HfqI/AAAAAAAAAwY/aJcrWDsqzQU/s1600-h/precious.jpg"><img src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RxgvVE6HfqI/AAAAAAAAAwY/aJcrWDsqzQU/s200/precious.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />She calls herself &quot; baby.&quot; I love that, oh I love that!</p>
<p>When she sees a baby smaller than herself she squeals with delight and proudly explains to me: &quot; baby! tiny.&quot;</p>
<p>Because she can&#8217;t make the <em>s</em> sound in Nelson (beloved boy cousin of hers) , insert a sound like you are blowing your nose here between the Nel and on ( her daddy gets the biggest kick out of this) Also, she knows the names of all her grandparents, auntie&#8217;s, uncles and cousins. And that is quite the acommplishment since there are over 30!</p>
<p><img src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/Rxgxak6HfsI/AAAAAAAAAwo/bYfTFyHdakI/s200/rtertre.jpg" border="0" /><br />Her favorite snack: &quot; pretzie&#8217;s &quot; (pretzels)<br />Her favorite book: <a onclick="return mugicPopWin(this,event);" oncontextmenu="mugicRightClick(this);" href="http://www.amazon.com/I-Love-You-Through/dp/0439673631"><font color="#649a64">&#8216; I love you Through and Through &#8216; </font></a><br />Her favorite word as of today: &quot; Hoooray! &quot;<br />Her favorite article of clothing: Red Crocs, I can hardly get her to wear anything else but she&#8217;ll sleep in her crocs<br />Her favorite toy: her purse and dollies<br />Her favorite thing to do: play outside, and dance</p>
<p>I tell her something ONE TIME and she&#8217;ll remember it days later. For <a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/Rxgo3U6HfoI/AAAAAAAAAwI/nmiUaXUcbJM/s1600-h/Picture+579.jpg"><img src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/Rxgo3U6HfoI/AAAAAAAAAwI/nmiUaXUcbJM/s200/Picture+579.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />example, pulling up a chair next to the sink and having her &quot;help&quot; me do the dishes, which she&#8217;s crazy about. Well one day last week I put her little apron on her and everyday since then have forgot about it&#8217;s very existance. Today when I asked her if she wanted to help me wash the dishes, she ran over to where the aprons are hanging and pulled on hers until I realized she wasn&#8217;t going to &quot;help&quot; me wash dishes without it.</p>
<p>She has taken it upon herself to make sure the cat behaves. Poor George. He&#8217;s the official bottom of the family pecking order. And he&#8217;s always being told &quot;down tat!&quot; ( she can&#8217;t say her C&#8217;s ), &quot; no tat! &quot;or &quot;out tat!&quot;</p>
<p>While we were on holiday at the &quot;osh-oon&quot; she also learned how to say the two big C. Which of course come out sounding like &quot;tandy&quot; and &quot;tookie.&quot;</p>
<p>The other night in the car, as we were coming home from a weekend with our best friends in Colville WA, and listening to my <a href="http://www.thewailinjennys.com/"><font color="#649a64">new favorite CD</font></a>, we hear this sweet little voice floating from her carseat in the back, and with her own little angle voice she started to try and sing, for the first time. &quot; Halleluiah&#8230;halleluiah, halleluiah&#8230;&quot;( or her baby version of it) and as soon as the song would end she we&#8217;d here this quiet little&quot; again?&quot; One if the top ten most frequently used words in her growing vocabulary. So we listened, Again and Again. And she sang along. For almost and hour.</p>
<p><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RxgxJ06HfrI/AAAAAAAAAwg/bRtcYWKi898/s1600-h/daddy+and+me.jpg"><img src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RxgxJ06HfrI/AAAAAAAAAwg/bRtcYWKi898/s200/daddy+and+me.jpg" border="0" /></a> While my parents were here we showed them the DVD of the slide show from David&#8217;s Dad&#8217;s memorial service. Of course David and I can&#8217;t watch it without getting teared up. When Annabelle noticed her Daddy&#8217;s tears, she reached up for him and with the most concerned little look said, &quot; Sorry Daddy, Sorry.&quot;</p>
<p>Wednesday night at dinner she suprised us by saying: &quot; broccoli.&quot; What suprised us even more than that is that she just loves eating it.</p>
<p>On the way home from our date at <a href="http://www.coldstonecreamery.com/index.html"><font color="#649a64">Coldstone</font></a> where I enjoyed on of <a href="http://www.coldstonecreamery.com/icecream/signature_creations.html#"><font color="#649a64">these</font></a> decedant treats absolutely <a href="http://www.coldstonecreamery.com/birthday/birthday_club.aspx"><font color="#649a64">Free for my birthday </font></a>, David was goofing off in the car, just being a total ham. She looks at him with this major twinkle in her eye and says: &quot; Daddy&#8230;funny!&quot;<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/Rxgz6k6HfvI/AAAAAAAAAxA/0pK0pQAjpGE/s1600-h/Picture+394.jpg"><img src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/Rxgz6k6HfvI/AAAAAAAAAxA/0pK0pQAjpGE/s200/Picture+394.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />She goes around the house, on the tippiest of toes chanting this line,<br />over and over: &quot; happy, happy, happy, happy! &quot;</p>
<p><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RxgsQk6HfpI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/K5v0EPi1v3c/s1600-h/Picture+549.jpg"><img src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RxgsQk6HfpI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/K5v0EPi1v3c/s200/Picture+549.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Yesterday she learned the motions to the song, &quot; If your happy and you know it&#8230;&quot; and by far her favorite part is shouting &quot;hoooooray!&quot;</p>
<p>She does not allow the wearing of jackets without the &quot;hat&quot; (hood).</p>
<p>When she sits down to &quot;read&quot; a book you hear: &quot; ABC&#8230;ABC&#8217;s&#8230;&quot;</p>
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<h3 align="center">And so she continues to steal our hearts. All bit more every single day.</p>
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<p align="center"><font face="Garamond" size="4">Oh the delight and wonder of discovery! I wouldn&#8217;t trade these days for anything.</font></div>
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		<title>{ cozy little day }</title>
		<link>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/10/01/cozy-little-day/</link>
		<comments>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/10/01/cozy-little-day/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Oct 2007 23:15:12 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>seachellegirl</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Highlight of the Day]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/10/01/cozy-little-day</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#123; card from my Esty Shop &#125;     We&#8217;ve been having oatmeal for breakfast the past few mornings. It seems like a fitting way to start off the day with something warm in our tummies. The weather has gone from bright and warm to blustery and grey. I&#8217;ve been making a fire first thing in the [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=seachellegirl.wordpress.com&amp;blog=19627001&amp;post=8&amp;subd=seachellegirl&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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<p><div align="center">&#123; card from my <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5067430" target="_blank"><font color="#5c814e">Esty Shop </font></a>&#125;</div>
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<div align="center"><img src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RwFkC06HepI/AAAAAAAAAoM/NcsnBIFT86M/s320/Picture+469a_002.jpg" border="0" /></div>
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<div>We&#8217;ve been having oatmeal for breakfast the past few mornings. It seems like a fitting way to start off the day with something warm in our tummies. The weather has gone from bright and warm to blustery and grey. I&#8217;ve been making a fire first thing in the morning and we&#8217;ve been bundeling up to go outside, wearing scarves and closed-toes shoes and I&#8217;ve started putting tights and turtlenecks on Annabelle. It&#8217;s a good thing I love fall as much as I do, otherwise I could not bring myelf to trade in my beloved flip flops for a pair of warm socks and some comfy boots. Anyhow speaking of flip flops, now I am about to go on a rabbit trail. My sweet Mommy in law told me the other day that when she was a girl &quot;flip flops&quot; were called zorries. Is that cute or what? </div>
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<div align="center">They introduced a new song at <a href="http://www.marshillchurch.org/"><font color="#649a64">church</font></a> today, and even the words of the first line couldn&#8217;t stop our tears. Funny how grief hits you when and where you least expect it to. </div>
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<div align="center">When I go don&#8217;t cry for me</div>
<div align="center">In my fathers arms I&#8217;ll be</div>
<div align="center">The wounds this world left on my soul<br />Will all be healed and I&#8217;ll be whole</div>
<div align="center">Sun and moon will be replaced</div>
<div align="center">With the light of Jesus&#8217; face</div>
<div align="center">And I will not be ashamed</div>
<div align="center">For my savior knows my name</p>
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<div align="center">It don&#8217;t matter where you bury me</div>
<div align="center">I&#8217;ll be home and I&#8217;ll be free</div>
<div align="center">It don&#8217;t matter where I lay</div>
<div align="center">All my tears be washed away</p>
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<div align="center">Gold and silver blind the eye</div>
<div align="center">Temporary riches lie</div>
<div align="center">Come and eat from heaven&#8217;s store</div>
<div align="center">Come and drink and thirst no more</div>
<div align="center">So weep not for me my friend</div>
<div align="center">When my time below does end</div>
<div align="center">For my life belongs to him</div>
<div align="center">Who will raise the dead again</div>
<div align="center">It don&#8217;t matter where you bury me</div>
<div align="center">I&#8217;ll be home and I&#8217;ll be free</div>
<div align="center">It don&#8217;t matter where I lay</div>
<div align="center">All my tears be washed away</div>
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<p align="center">Also at church, Annabelle was *winking* at the people in the row behind us. Really truly winking. I have no idea where she learned to wink. I certainly have never tried teaching her how to do it but it was hysterical. </p>
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<p align="center">Later on that afternoon David spontainiously sat down at the piano with me and we plunked out the notes to &#8216;Heart and Soul&#8217; together. It made me feel like a girl again. We sat there and giggled and expeirmented and then of course we would mess up, which would made us giggle some more!&quot; </p>
<p align="center"><em>And</em> we all snuggled up and watched Chip and Dale cartoons. </p>
<p><em>And</em> we had the yummiest sushi for dinner &#123; gotta love Costco &#125;. <em>And</em> it cracked us up because Annabelle loved it. Especially since we know several adults who won&#8217;t even try it.</p>
<div align="center"><em>And</em> that is what I mean when I say, we had &quot;a cozy little day.&quot;</div>
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		<title>Precious in the Sight&#8230;.</title>
		<link>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/09/13/precious-in-the-sight/</link>
		<comments>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/09/13/precious-in-the-sight/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 13 Sep 2007 19:44:11 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>seachellegirl</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/09/13/precious-in-the-sight</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[  As of 9/11/07, he is with Jesus. Thank you each for your words of love and prayers for us. It&#8217;s been a very sweet time. Not without it&#8217;s tears of course. God is so good! <img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=seachellegirl.wordpress.com&amp;blog=19627001&amp;post=9&amp;subd=seachellegirl&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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<div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span> </div>
<div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><font size="4">As of 9/11/07, he is with Jesus.</font></strong></span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><font size="4"></font></strong></span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><font size="4">Thank you each for your words of love and prayers for us. </font></strong></span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><font size="4">It&#8217;s been a very sweet time.</font></strong></span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><font size="4">Not without it&#8217;s tears of course. </font></strong></span></div>
<div align="center"><font size="4"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>God is so good!</strong></span> </font></div>
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		<title>{ A Time to Love. }</title>
		<link>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/09/05/a-time-to-love/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 05 Sep 2007 21:37:30 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>seachellegirl</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[What Matters the MOST?]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/09/05/a-time-to-love</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Have you ever had something to say, something so deep and so close to your heart that it felt almost too personal to talk about,  as if reducing those thoughts and feelings into words would cheapen it somehow. This post is my attempt to put words to something that I feel goes painfully far beyond actual [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=seachellegirl.wordpress.com&amp;blog=19627001&amp;post=10&amp;subd=seachellegirl&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div id="msgcns!E489A412E8B7BEF3!3594" class="bvMsg">
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<div align="center"><em>Have you ever had something to say, something so deep and so close to your heart that it felt almost too personal to talk about,</em></div>
<div align="center"><em> as if reducing those thoughts and feelings into words would cheapen it somehow. </em></div>
<div align="center"><em>This post is my attempt to put words to something that I feel goes painfully far beyond actual description. Perhaps  you know what I mean.</em></div>
<div align="center"><strong></strong> </div>
<div align="center"><strong>&quot; For</strong> <strong>everything</strong> <strong>there is a season</strong>, <strong>and a time</strong> <strong>for every matter under heaven</strong>: <strong>a time to be born</strong>, and<strong> a time to die</strong>; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and<strong> a time to heal</strong>;a time to break down, and<strong> a time to build up</strong>; <strong>a time to weep</strong>, <strong>and a time to laugh</strong>;<strong>a time to mourn</strong>, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; <strong>a time to embrace</strong>, and a time to refrain from embracing; <strong>a time to seek</strong>, <strong>and a time to lose</strong>; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew;<strong>a time to keep silence</strong>, <strong>and a time to speak</strong>; <strong><em>a time to love</em></strong>, and a time to hate; a time for war, <strong>and a time for peace.&quot; </strong>Ecc 3:1-8 </div>
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<div align="center">There is no easy way to say this but am going to go ahead and try. After twelve plus years of battling ALS, my father-in-law, who I love so dearly has now reached the final stages of the disease. In the last three weeks we have made four trips to Id. to be with our family. And spent precious time with &quot;Papa Bob&quot; and all the rest of our wonderful family. In the past few weeks we have seen what David loves to refer to as, &quot; <strong>the biggest miracle of his life</strong>. &quot; As God has <strong>healed hearts</strong> and hurts. As <strong>forgiveness</strong> has been asked and given. There has been<strong> a time to build up</strong>, after years of painful distance between David&#8217;s Dad and his older children, after a time of &quot;tearing down,&quot; caused by the blindness that affects someone, infected with bitterness. David has 10 siblings so, you can imagine the <strong>magnitude </strong>of that. In the past few weeks his Dad has been saying the things that he and his brothers and sisters have for years, longed to hear.<strong> Endless words of love</strong>, affirmation, and praise. It brings tears to my eyes to remember the simple, heartfelt words he whispered into my ear last weekend, &quot;three treasures.&quot; Making sure I knew how precious David, Annabelle and i are to him. The <strong>transformation</strong> has been so <strong>beautiful </strong>to witness. God has been so <strong>glorified</strong>. And we are all living in the light of answered prayers. It gives us such <strong>real hope</strong>, even in the midst of the <strong>deep sadness</strong> we know losing him will bring. Our loss. His gain. We will miss him so terribly, but are comforted knowing that he is soon to be safe in <strong>Jesus arms</strong>. </div>
<div align="center">The<strong> happiest, best</strong> <strong>place</strong> any of us could <strong>ever</strong> be.</div>
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<div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"><img src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/Rt8aRbsOH0I/AAAAAAAAAlk/Yyw_kTWibUg/s320/Picture+619.jpg" border="0" /><font size="2">-Precious Moments-</font></span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"><font size="2">Annabelle and David with Papa</font></span></div>
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		<title>{ A Happy Little Day }</title>
		<link>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/08/28/a-happy-little-day/</link>
		<comments>http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/08/28/a-happy-little-day/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 28 Aug 2007 18:46:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>seachellegirl</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://seachellegirl.wordpress.com/2007/08/28/a-happy-little-day</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[  My Mom knows me so well. This vintage red and while polka dot apron that she gave me &#34;just because&#34; last week is the perfect example of that. I told her it may perhaps be my new very most favorite thing. Ever. But then, my sister, who loves to GIVE,bless her heart, suprised me [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=seachellegirl.wordpress.com&amp;blog=19627001&amp;post=11&amp;subd=seachellegirl&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div id="msgcns!E489A412E8B7BEF3!3565" class="bvMsg">
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<h2><a href="http://the-value-of-cheerfulness.blogspot.com/2007/08/banner-day.html"> </a></h2>
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<div align="center">My Mom knows me so well. This vintage red and while polka dot apron that she gave me &quot;just because&quot; last week is the perfect example of that. I told her it may perhaps be my new very most favorite thing. Ever.</div>
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<div align="center"><img src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RtQ7LrsOHZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/29uX_tMKGVI/s320/Picture+165.jpg" border="0" /><br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RtQ7crsOHbI/AAAAAAAAAic/45atPPimayQ/s1600-h/Picture+172.jpg"><img src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RtQ7crsOHbI/AAAAAAAAAic/45atPPimayQ/s320/Picture+172.jpg" border="0" /></a> But then, my sister, who loves to GIVE,<br />bless her heart, suprised me with these, as a early, early birthday gift.<br /><strong>Black Mary Jane Crocs.</strong><br />I told her yesterday, that I love them so much,<br />I could barely bring myself take them off when I got in bed last night,</p>
<p><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RtQ7VLsOHaI/AAAAAAAAAiU/MF_vb1k-gow/s1600-h/Picture+161.jpg"><img src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a8u-H2z6C_U/RtQ7VLsOHaI/AAAAAAAAAiU/MF_vb1k-gow/s320/Picture+161.jpg" border="0" /></a>And look at this stack of books, chalk full of inspriation and eye-candy&#8230;<br />that I can enjoy for FREE from the library. </div>
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<p>So I am floating around here in the sunshine, hand in hand with my little bit of a girl, picking yellow Graham Thomas roses, and black berries in my vintage apron and oh so cute crocs. Getting ready to bake pies. This day feels like something straight out of Martha Stewart Living.<br />Only Better than that because it is my <em>real</em> life. </div>
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