tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17037949025571912292024-03-08T23:12:21.781+11:00Farm n Jemsfarmnjemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13399591799252113435noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-54299303106861476482014-06-17T19:55:00.001+10:002014-06-17T19:55:19.577+10:00Bicycles in the Air<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: start;">Anyone heard of the Chocolate Hills? If not, they're dome shaped hills in Bohol, Philippines. I don't know why they were called that... someone must've had a wishful imagination!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xRejIIF8YwI/U6AK7B578lI/AAAAAAAABP8/Wpnv1QK4LYc/s1600/9-philippine+blog2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xRejIIF8YwI/U6AK7B578lI/AAAAAAAABP8/Wpnv1QK4LYc/s1600/9-philippine+blog2.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and I - posing in front of the fake Chocolate.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After all, they look more like ant hills.. These hills were about the first tourist attraction we went to. They were alright. I reckon they were pretty, but the view on its own definitely did not compare to seeing it while riding a bicycle in the air!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b4uoX752NuU/U6AIhUWr2vI/AAAAAAAABPE/7RZHMQqkd7I/s1600/2-IMG_2777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b4uoX752NuU/U6AIhUWr2vI/AAAAAAAABPE/7RZHMQqkd7I/s1600/2-IMG_2777.JPG" height="222" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding through the air, among the Chocolate Hills.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
No, I am not a magician. I was attached to numerous cables and all such bells and whistles. But all the same, a breeze rocked my bike and the ground looked scarily far away. I had to give myself a bit of a pep talk, but when I really thought about it I realized that the chance of falling was actually very slim. Besides, if I did I was wearing a hard hat anyway. A fall wouldn't do much damage - to my brain at least.... In fact, it would make a jolly impressive story!!<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aG9BCmGTd7c/U6AJxWr1yPI/AAAAAAAABPo/jwNNJfX7ZAc/s1600/6-philippine+blog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aG9BCmGTd7c/U6AJxWr1yPI/AAAAAAAABPo/jwNNJfX7ZAc/s1600/6-philippine+blog.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It was an adventure park where I rode the skies. The Chocolate Hills Adventure Park (CHAP) to be exact. When we were told what was available, I was keen as a mung bean! XD<br />
Dad decided to join me in all the activities. His only regret was that bike ride was too slow. I agreed. When we gave this feedback to the owner of the park, he was apparently flabbergasted. According to him, he did it once and never wanted to do it again! He told us that most people would cry from fear while riding the bike. We were amazed!<br />
We were also informed though, that a few people had stopped in the middle and taken selfies up there. I became jealous upon hearing that.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9FTG0y9B-Cc/U6AImvCZ_fI/AAAAAAAABPM/I6bgmE_QC_M/s1600/3-IMG_2797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9FTG0y9B-Cc/U6AImvCZ_fI/AAAAAAAABPM/I6bgmE_QC_M/s1600/3-IMG_2797.JPG" height="223" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and I, after riding through the air.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mrmhjFIcAqM/U6AI5PySAjI/AAAAAAAABPU/QeAU3uTfikQ/s1600/4-IMG_2823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mrmhjFIcAqM/U6AI5PySAjI/AAAAAAAABPU/QeAU3uTfikQ/s1600/4-IMG_2823.JPG" height="223" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doing the obstacle course.</td></tr>
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<br />
After riding the bikes, we went on a 'tree-top' obstacle course. It was okay. They were working on constructing extensions at the time. But we had completed the whole course in about 5 minutes. Less than ten, for sure. Again, we amazed the owners. While we had our fun, my friend Myn graciously captured our experience. :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0fjy2w6d3AY/U6AJrq1_inI/AAAAAAAABPg/11V_icEuUmU/s1600/5-IMG_2881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0fjy2w6d3AY/U6AJrq1_inI/AAAAAAAABPg/11V_icEuUmU/s1600/5-IMG_2881.JPG" height="223" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad, Mum, Me, Myn and Lyle at the entrance to CHAP.</td></tr>
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When all the activities to do had been done, we moved on to the Logarita Springs to eat lunch. To our surprise we were compelled to pay a fee of 100p (peso) per head. The springs was a pretty place. A large pool graced the place, with an impressive, albeit cement, slide into it. I wanted to go swimming after lunch with Myn, but I was feeling a bit crook by that stage and Mum wisely forbad me. The head cold I mentioned in the previous post was starting to make itself known. The day previous when we went to Talibon to go shopping, and then swimming at their beach, I had felt fine aside from a nagging sore throat. Once the head cold made itself known, it progressed rapidly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UR-6zUJD1y0/U6AKcZGCfgI/AAAAAAAABPw/kR7VqgZ-ARE/s1600/7-philippine+blog1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UR-6zUJD1y0/U6AKcZGCfgI/AAAAAAAABPw/kR7VqgZ-ARE/s1600/7-philippine+blog1.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The forbidden pool, with its cement slide.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our host, Lyle, drove us around 'the corner' to the Magsaysay Park. It wasn't really a park. But it did have monkeys. Lots of them, in fact. Big ones, little ones, mothers and fathers. We had saved a couple bananas from lunch for them, and these we fed them. They were a greedy, inquisitive bunch, those monkeys. When the bananas were all gone, they climbed into the tray of the truck to look for more goodies. One monkey took off with Lyle's bag of crackers. Lyle chased after it, but the monkey proved more nimble!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0899of7LciU/U6AK62eLFdI/AAAAAAAABP4/0Z5PGmItFOs/s1600/8-Philippines+trip+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0899of7LciU/U6AK62eLFdI/AAAAAAAABP4/0Z5PGmItFOs/s1600/8-Philippines+trip+1.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inquisitive monkeys checked out the truck tray.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Likeables:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Adventure parks.</li>
<li>Crazy monkeys.</li>
</ul>
<br />
Unlikeables:<br />
<ul>
<li>Sickness.</li>
</ul>
<br />
Learnables:<br />
<ul>
<li>If I go back, I will go on that bike again. But this time, I will ride faster!</li>
<li>Next time I will also take a camera with me as I am riding. Watch out, selfies ahead! ;)</li>
</ul>
<br />
When I returned from the Philippines, I went to my sister's place in Vic. Hearing all about our adventures, especially the bike riding, Caleb (my nephew) exclaimed, 'I'm going to go to the Philippines, and I'm going to ride that bike through the air!!!!'Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-13116058732100975052014-04-12T19:32:00.001+10:002014-04-12T19:32:20.598+10:00The 'Something' Big!<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I visited…
the Philippines! Yes, the third world country we’ve all heard about. I went
with my parents, and I loved it. I’ll admit it was different, sometimes
awkward, challenging and at first sorta scary. But I gained an insight, also
experiences, which I wouldn’t have otherwise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">We flew in
on the 12<sup>th</sup> of March. Manila was busy, crowded and as we arrived
late in the evening, sorta creepy. Especially at the hotel we went to! First
appearances weren’t most favorable. I was thankful we were there only a night,
as the next day we flew to another island – Cebu. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In Cebu we
hired a pre-arranged honest, friendly, kind taxi driver who helped us around
all day. I started feeling more comfortable there – the Philippines weren’t so
bad after all, I decided. That being said, my nose protested at the revolting
smell that came from the markets where all the dried fish was sold – that, I
decided, I did <i>not</i> like. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The mall we
went to felt very Western. I even felt a bit at home! Though the peso system
threw me a bit. Forking out hundreds of pesos at a time really knocked my
frugal nature. Even though consciously I knew that it wasn’t much – 40 pesos to
$1; subconsciously I cringed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1iXYGIQo3XI/U0kGsWOijEI/AAAAAAAABNw/2ry_GYREzLs/s1600/IMG_2377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1iXYGIQo3XI/U0kGsWOijEI/AAAAAAAABNw/2ry_GYREzLs/s1600/IMG_2377.JPG" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The front of their SM Mall. It was fancy - as they pretty much all are, inside.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">On our
second day in Cebu we got tickets on a boat and headed to another island –
Bohol. The ride was two hours, and when we arrived we started experiencing real
life – a ride in a tricycle was first. We were going to have to ride on a bus,
but when we saw how full they loaded them we opted out and took a taxi. Sadly,
you have to really watch most Filippino taxis. They’ll rip a foreigner off,
first chance. Being newly landed, having only dealt so far with honest drivers,
we were easy game – at least that time. <b>That</b>
we did <i>not</i> like.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Staying with
our friend in a native house, I found that, hard beds aside, I didn’t mind the
lifestyle. Much simpler – I like simple. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><span lang="EN-US"> We had to cook on an open fire,
shower with a dipper and wash up in a tub – though he did have a sink, just no
running water. Sorta novel, if you ask me. He did have electricity, we found.
That was a blessing – especially when the menfolk weren’t home once and we had
trouble starting the fire, as he – our friend – had an electric frying pan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I did have
a problem washing my hair. You see, my habit is to wash it in the evening – no
problem when you have a hot shower and no need to be outside…. So I did it in
the evening – with cold water, and in my swimmers – so I could just dry off
outside. Not the best idea, considering the cold breeze that suddenly started blowing.
:/ By the next day, I had a sore throat that developed into a real head cold
that then spread to my new friend Myn, and Mum and Dad. Not cool! Oh well, I
decided, next time I’d just do in the morning. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So, to
break it down…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Likables:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="text-indent: -18pt;">Smiling
people.</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="text-indent: -18pt;">Getting
a honest, friendly taxi guy in Cebu.</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="text-indent: -18pt;">Their
malls.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">The
simplicity of their homes and lives.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">Their cool-as jeepneys.<br />
<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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e--mQ6hKoV0/U0kGsGgDOCI/AAAAAAAABNs/5p30B9Lkzi8/s1600/IMG_2369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e--mQ6hKoV0/U0kGsGgDOCI/AAAAAAAABNs/5p30B9Lkzi8/s1600/IMG_2369.JPG" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jeepneys ahoy! You can ride in any fashion you wish. XD</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Unlikables:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -18pt;">·</span><span lang="EN-US" style="text-indent: -18pt;">How
crowded it was – I like a bit of privacy and space: walking down the road and
getting stared at isn’t comforting. Lol</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">The
smell of fish – dried or not.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">Exploiting
taxis.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">No
showers. I managed, and sorta enjoyed it, but I can’t imagine living without a
shower.</span></li>
</ul>
<span style="text-indent: -18pt;">Learnables:</span><br /><ul>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">People
living on land in country areas there, are better off in some/a lot of ways
than we are.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">It’s
better to not wash your hair in the evening – at least over there!</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US" style="text-indent: -18pt;">You
can’t trust everyone. Well, I sorta already knew it… but yeah – it’s well
grounded now!</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">Pesos
flow out of your hands fast and easy. :/</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And that is
all for now! Stay tuned for part two – our week in Bohol! Whenever that happens….
:P<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.S. A sad fact is that I had flat batteries and didn't really start taking photos till I was in Bohol. Till next time!</div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-57958639086073569322014-03-04T17:25:00.000+11:002014-03-06T21:11:21.326+11:00Wise. Update.Dear Readers,<br />
<br />
I am writing to let you know about something I read, and my reaction to it.<br />
<br />
You see, I was reading in Ecclesiastes chapter 12, when I read this verse: "Because the preacher was wise, he still taught the people knowledge; yea, he gave good heed, and sought out, and set in order many proverbs."<br />
<br />
Now, you should all know that I'm into quotes and proverbs. But this verse set me in action! I'm not a preacher, and I don't profess to be overly wise, but I <b>love</b> proverbs! And I love spreading proverbs and quotes around. So let me tell you, dear friends, that my 'Wisdom & Humour' page has been updated!<br />
<br />
<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="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LIzBG5h9yOM/UxQx2_QPtGI/AAAAAAAABKk/Pj5qLrlIA9U/s1600/1-Fullscreen+capture+3032014+63910+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LIzBG5h9yOM/UxQx2_QPtGI/AAAAAAAABKk/Pj5qLrlIA9U/s1600/1-Fullscreen+capture+3032014+63910+PM.jpg" height="308" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A preview... ;)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
While I'm doing a blog post - since I do one so infrequently... :/ I dare say, I may as well update the world on my life.<br />
<br />
For me, travels have been the theme. In January (12-19) I went to the <a href="http://doanddare.org/">Do & Dare</a> camp - this camp is very rule-based; it has various classes (ie. Canoeing, Choir, Canvassing, Sketching, Video Production, etc.) and every minute is packed. It goes for a week and most people enjoy it.<br />
Fairly well straight after that, I made my way south with my sister, Christella, and spent almost 2 weeks (21st Jan - 2nd Feb) with a seamstress friend who taught us the principles of sewing. Christella's project was the flower girl dresses for my brothers then up-coming wedding reception; mine was a German dirndl I made for myself. I learned about sewing, and some foundational life principles.<br />
<br />
February started pretty grand. Christella and I celebrated our birthdays exactly one week apart. Considering the milestones we'd reached, our immediate family got together for a week-long holiday on the beach. Also, in light of the up-coming reception, Christella and I cut our hair. Don't worry, it's still below our shoulders. XD<br />
On the 10th, the reception went off. Surprisingly, even though it wasn't the real thing - the real wedding was in the States; we still had late members of the bridal party!<br />
<br />
<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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mTNAjVF3xwU/UxQaPUex3XI/AAAAAAAABKA/3nCmaj5cAxI/s1600/Jess,+bride,+groom+and+I.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mTNAjVF3xwU/UxQaPUex3XI/AAAAAAAABKA/3nCmaj5cAxI/s1600/Jess,+bride,+groom+and+I.JPG" height="234" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See - two bridesmaids were missing!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
With plenty of bloopers to keep it real, the reception was a happy success - thanks to the many people who pitched in and helped: cooks, musicians and otherwise.<br />
<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="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bzq5nOe0g0s/UxQaPbtFzXI/AAAAAAAABJ8/pl1ZXHLqT2M/s1600/04-Wedding+E&E+060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bzq5nOe0g0s/UxQaPbtFzXI/AAAAAAAABJ8/pl1ZXHLqT2M/s1600/04-Wedding+E&E+060.JPG" height="320" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lining up to walk in.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ir65X1dfCWw/UxQaP6gBa1I/AAAAAAAABKE/9OPkW3Rf3RE/s1600/My+nephew+and+niece.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ir65X1dfCWw/UxQaP6gBa1I/AAAAAAAABKE/9OPkW3Rf3RE/s1600/My+nephew+and+niece.JPG" height="320" width="242" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flower girl and page boy - the dress Christella sewed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FZ9RM4F9Suw/UxQaUT5bORI/AAAAAAAABKU/I5L2m6DfgZ4/s1600/Sibs+and+I.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FZ9RM4F9Suw/UxQaUT5bORI/AAAAAAAABKU/I5L2m6DfgZ4/s1600/Sibs+and+I.JPG" height="287" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sibling picture! It's not in order of age or anything like that, but we're all there!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Straight from the reception, loaded with (some) food, I headed with a friend's family to their place - back south! I spent a week with the said family (11th-17th). During which time I experienced yet more travelling - something they apologied for (can you believe it?! :D). I even got to revisit the parliment house! That was pretty okay, though I was quite unimpressed by the fact that they <b><i>don't</i></b> have ride-on vacuum cleaners to clean their massive carpet spaces! Shocking. And I thought they were supposed to have the best of everything... O.o<br />
Two days of train travel landed me home - for 4 weeks. In a few days time, I will be going.... well, doing something big - and I might just tell you about it! When I get back, that is. XD<br />
In the meanwhile, I've been spending a lovely time with my brother Elisha, his wife Elyssa, her mother Eve, and my parents too. :D And I've also been doing Croatian lessons (with Mum) every day, and other school work. :)<br />
<br />
For now!<br />
<br />
Love and blessings! ;)<br />
~JAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-25996923060154543972014-01-06T09:12:00.001+11:002014-01-06T09:12:32.830+11:00Memory Lane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0NiLScY-yLI/UsnYUKqknPI/AAAAAAAABIs/8T_WSGYW0JQ/s1600/swing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0NiLScY-yLI/UsnYUKqknPI/AAAAAAAABIs/8T_WSGYW0JQ/s320/swing.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Walking to the Big Dam, I travel</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Down memory's lane, and I revel</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In the fun of yesterday.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Memories that won't go away.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A snake slithers by my feet;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This ghostly playground is now bittersweet.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What happened to all our fun?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And all the great things we'd done?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It isn't a story so tall,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It takes only a few words to tell all.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You see, my brothers have grown,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And all have left home.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I miss my boys.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The games, the teasing, the noise.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
If I could go back, I would.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh, if only I could....</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But these memories I'll treasure.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For I can, and I will - forever. ~ 1/1/14</div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-86365068049135207872014-01-01T10:42:00.000+11:002014-01-06T09:20:55.103+11:00Donkey Oven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dmXsSJYnjNI/Usnarwvm7eI/AAAAAAAABJA/TqHGUzD94AI/s1600/1-IMG_0995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dmXsSJYnjNI/Usnarwvm7eI/AAAAAAAABJA/TqHGUzD94AI/s320/1-IMG_0995.JPG" /></a></div>
"Mum, Penny's cooking that foal too long - it's gonna be burned!" The donkey blues had arrived. 12+ months of anticipating a foal, and it still hadn't popped! Like c'mon, there's no need to over-bake the baby! (Don't freak out though! Donkey pregnancies are 12+ months. XD)<br />
<br />
Every day for weeks, we'd checked Penny daily to see if she had brought a little one into the world yet - all in vain. Truly so, for it wasn't until we went to a camp over this last weekend that she finally got on with it.<br />
I'd had the sneaking suspicion that she'd give birth once we'd left, and I was right. Upon returning home, we met our newest arrival - a gorgeous little filly.<br />
Since her mother is Penny, we're considering calling her 'Shilling' or something fiscal-related like that... XD Ideas?<br />
~~~~~~~~~<br />
Mum likes Inky, so I think we'll go with that name. :) Thanks guys!<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-53808445901147070502013-12-18T20:38:00.000+11:002014-01-06T09:22:16.968+11:00Goodbye GirlsIt came to pass that 5 years ago we got into goats again. We didn't want to breed animals for death, so we raised dairy goats. British Alpines, Toggenburgs, Anglo Nubians, and even a couple Saanens.<br />
I was quite the wild goat girl - my life revolved around the goats, and so did my conversations. <i>"...and then I saw that Dolly had kidded! She's the t</i><i>hird goat to kid this year, and now the boy/girl average is at 5 doe kids and 3 bucks kids! As she had 2 doe kids. You see....." </i><br />
<br />
5 years of blood (horns, sharp pointed feet and teeth draw blood!), sweat and tears (litres of both... lol), all effort put into our friendly, rascally pets. There's been joy and grief, excitement and pain. And yet, all things, good and bad, come to an end.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bw1TV0ECocw/Usna77MRqNI/AAAAAAAABJI/irFhKEAzOGE/s1600/2-IMG_0938.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bw1TV0ECocw/Usna77MRqNI/AAAAAAAABJI/irFhKEAzOGE/s320/2-IMG_0938.JPG" /></a>For the first few years, I wouldn't have dreamed of ever selling our whole herd, and yet it's happened. Indeed, the time of 'coming to pass' came - for today, the last of our pedigree herd has been sold. It was an emotional time for all - joy and excitement on my behalf; happiness and sadness on Mum's part. By far it was the most 'bittersweet' for her, than for us girls (Christella and I).<br />
<br />
It has come to pass that we have moved on. Good-bye, my sweet, rascally girls!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-71637294845610008242013-11-21T19:38:00.000+11:002013-11-25T14:37:12.401+11:00No Brains <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;">So… I have learned that:</span><br />
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;">Negative thinking shrivels the dendrites
(</span><span style="line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;">‘arms’ of brain cells
that reach out to connect with other brain cells)</span><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;"> in the
brain. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(~Anatomy and Physiology book)</span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;">Raised
cortisol levels of stress also cause the dendrites to shrivel up. (Coffee
raises cortisol levels. So does stress.) -</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ginty,
F., ‘Dietry protein and bone health’, <i>Proceedings
of the Nutrition Society</i>, vol 62(4), pp. 867-76 (2003)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;">A
lack of essential fatty acids shrinks the brain (this often happens in pregnant
women especially, as they don’t normally have enough on a normal ‘non-pregnant’
basis, and when called upon to share as they are pregnant, the lack becomes
increased.) </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;">Metallic/rock music suppresses the
frontal lobe – part of the brain. Consistent suppression leads to inactivity;
inactivity shrinks the brain – use it or lose it.</span></span></li>
</ol>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;">Now we all know that every other person thinks negatively
to some extent most of the time. Ding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;">We also know that the average person is a coffee
drinker, and that every single person encounters stress in some shape or form
on a normal basis. Dong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;">It has been found that every other person is lacking
in EFA’s (essential fatty acids) because of some reason or another – generally simply
because the EFA intake is minimal to nil; plus because fried oils block absorption - a single meal with fried oils blocks absorption for up to 6 weeks; also allergies block EFA absorption. Who
has allergies? Every other person has some type of an allergy, whether or not
they know it. Ding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;">The TV, movies, music, entertainment basically,
encourages brain death through inactivity. Dong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;">We use only about 1-2% of our brains.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;">I think that’s about all we have left
anyway.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%; text-indent: -18pt;">This world has to end soon – we’ll
have no brains left!</span></span></li>
</ul>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-27725167010464629562013-11-03T16:00:00.000+11:002013-11-03T16:00:07.282+11:00Work and PhotoshootsSo, I've been staying with my big sister for a little while, hence my absence. Life as an aunty is full! In fact, I wrote a poem the other night to that effect..<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Cooking, cleaning and school;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
these things my day do rule.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Facing every fear;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
working with cheer.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Truly, of this my life does comprise;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and I do it by early to bed, early to rise.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's a life full, but fun;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
learning, working, racing the sun.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yet I'll face it, head held high;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'll use this time that's going by.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For I'm young but once;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
tis the time to gather life experience.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Though I must admit, it hasn't been all work. Every now and again, Christella and I take some pictures. The other day I stole some time to set up a photo shoot of Hannah. She's just too cute not to. ;)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6jTHl9rcuLQ/UnXTHApiN5I/AAAAAAAABHc/-IWiic0fHXw/s1600/IMG_2545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6jTHl9rcuLQ/UnXTHApiN5I/AAAAAAAABHc/-IWiic0fHXw/s400/IMG_2545.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<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="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y2j3K50rUhg/UnXTQYzjPbI/AAAAAAAABHk/VyOl9cKfOPg/s1600/IMG_2580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y2j3K50rUhg/UnXTQYzjPbI/AAAAAAAABHk/VyOl9cKfOPg/s400/IMG_2580.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A friend gave her sunnies, and she wanted to try them out. XD</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_zoKE6H7bwQ/UnXTU3AdLyI/AAAAAAAABH0/QLFwI2LaXBA/s1600/IMG_2584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_zoKE6H7bwQ/UnXTU3AdLyI/AAAAAAAABH0/QLFwI2LaXBA/s400/IMG_2584.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lSPz5gC18gI/UnXTsJXcJRI/AAAAAAAABIE/vJgqdDvyzB0/s1600/IMG_2501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lSPz5gC18gI/UnXTsJXcJRI/AAAAAAAABIE/vJgqdDvyzB0/s400/IMG_2501.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little miss Muffet, sat on her tuffet, reading her book. :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br />Aunty got some shots of Cabie doing his work. :D</div>
<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="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rltRqKhte4Y/UnXTSBaHwaI/AAAAAAAABHs/ne6CKDpeiW4/s1600/IMG_1265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rltRqKhte4Y/UnXTSBaHwaI/AAAAAAAABHs/ne6CKDpeiW4/s400/IMG_1265.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cabie multi-tasking. Drinking up his spirilina and doing school work.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-88lklrrEp8Q/UnXTVGsrazI/AAAAAAAABH4/TfM37lup5ps/s1600/IMG_2051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-88lklrrEp8Q/UnXTVGsrazI/AAAAAAAABH4/TfM37lup5ps/s400/IMG_2051.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5 isn't too young to start washing dishes!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-83581684536861262752013-06-21T09:09:00.003+10:002013-06-21T09:09:42.144+10:00The Turtle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HuXBSV0JuUM/UcOLcDqm1GI/AAAAAAAABDE/Ipe8mTTN7pM/s1600/hare_turtle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HuXBSV0JuUM/UcOLcDqm1GI/AAAAAAAABDE/Ipe8mTTN7pM/s320/hare_turtle.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Ever heard the story of the turtle and the hare? You know, the fable of the turtle who challenged the hare to a running race... with the turtle ending up winning because the hare took a nap. Well, I was told once that living by this story was the key to success. <i>What?!</i> I thought, <i>But it's just a fable! It's got nothing to do with real life! Right? Right!</i> Or maybe not so right....<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You see, the other morning, I came across the turtle. I'd been living with it for years, without particularly thinking about it... until I studied about in my anatomy and physiology. I was learning about our three different types of muscular tissue when I saw it. As the saying goes, I saw the light.</div>
<div>
Here's what I learned:<br />
</div>
<div>
We have three types of muscle tissue: skeletal, cardiac and smooth.<br />
Skeletal muscles are the ones we have control off. They're the ones in our arms, legs, fingers, toes... etc.<br />
Cardiac muscle is in only one place - the heart. We don't have conscious control over this muscle, since it works continuously and automatically.<br />
Smooth muscles are everywhere! Though the most prominent places are the blood vessel walls and the digestive tract. These muscles are involuntary, meaning they work without our conscious effort. But most importantly, they are slow-acting, untiring and steady in action. What's so important about that? Well, don't you see? That's the turtle! It wins the race by slow and steady. It gets that food digested, not in one or two big pushes, so to say, but slowly and steadily over a 5 hour period.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CTYzIrlGbV4/UcOLb7OeX9I/AAAAAAAABDA/MHd88J9Qsd4/s1600/ridley2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CTYzIrlGbV4/UcOLb7OeX9I/AAAAAAAABDA/MHd88J9Qsd4/s320/ridley2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
You see, we might live in a rush and bustle, all or nothing, now or never society; but our body remains old fashioned: slow and steady, faithful and true. I am the turtle.</div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-63631157218872158922013-04-04T19:08:00.000+11:002013-04-04T19:08:00.101+11:00I Was Born For This<span lang="">I hadn't been home for long. Just over a day before I'd done the long trip from Sydney to home. We arrived when it was past midnight, and I had been, by then, awake for over 18 hours. The lack of sleep was now, well and truly, catching up with me. I was really tired! Even though I had just woken up. <br />
<br />
All around, as I looked about, I saw work that needed doing. Work that *I* needed to do. And I caught myself wishing that life was easier. Why couldn't my life be one of ease?<br />
<br />
That morning, breakfast time came a short time after I woke up, and thus I wasn't very hungry. So I decided that I should do my Bible reading before anything else. When doing my reading, I came across Isaiah 32:9 and 11. "Rise up!" it said, "Tremble! Ye women that are at ease; be ye troubled, ye careless ones." <br />
<br />
I noticed that he was giving emphasis to the women who are living at ease. Those who were living carelessly. Why should they be trembling and troubled? Because easy living doesn't develop character. Life wasn't meant to be easy. For me, or anyone else. <br />
<br />
It isn't going to be easy. It wasn't meant to be. It's going to be rough going. But I can do all things through Christ which strengthenth me. (Phil 4:13) And I can rejoice evermore through it too. (Phil 4:4) <b><i>I was born for this.</i></b> </span><br />
*This was written a few weeks ago.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-59763403428091801132013-04-02T11:37:00.001+11:002013-04-02T11:37:18.508+11:00The Day My God Died<span lang="">
<span lang=""></span><span style="font-size: small;">"Mum, did you know that from 700,000 to 4 million people are trafficked worldwide every <b>year</b>?" (Trafficking - </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span lang="EN-AU">the illegal trade in human beings through force, fraud, coercion, or violence for purposes of sexual exploitation, forced labor, and other slavery-like practices.)<br />
<br />
"What?!" She exclaimed. "That is terrible!"</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
"Yep." I added. "And on an average, 15 girls are trafficked in Nepal, <b>every day</b>. The average age being 14, but 7 and up are taken too."<br />
<br />
Mum was, naturally, horrified. Especially when we watched "The Day My God Died" trailer. Then, as we talked about it, I saw the connection.<br />
<br />
We've all heard people say "Yeah, I know about the kidnapping, abducting, etc. But it won't happen to me. It hasn't before, and won't now. Nothing has ever happened to any of my friends either."<br />
<br />
<b>But what they don't think about is the hundreds who are abducted on a day-to-day basis. Even though it isn't and hasn't affected them, it is affecting millions of others.<br />
<br />
</b>The connection? Well, people always say "Vaccines are harmless. I've been vaccinated, and I never had any harmful side effects. My <b>whole family</b> is vaccinated - They're fine! What are you talking about, 'Vaccines are bad'? Prove it!"<br />
<br />
But I can't! They haven't felt the horrors of being crippled because of the deadly syringes, and thus they can't empathize, relate or even sympathize. It's beyond them. <b></b><br />
<b>But what they don't think about is the hundreds who are crippled every day. Even though it isn't and hasn't affected them, it is affecting millions of others.</b><br />
<b>
</b></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang=""></span></span></span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-40101789873390997602012-12-25T06:00:00.000+11:002012-12-25T12:42:23.768+11:00Drop Down Dead....<br />
...For the babies!" Georgia explained. <i>Huh? Okayyy..... Sounds interesting..</i> I thought laughingly.<br />
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"It's a demonstration. Since babies can't be seen being aborted, we need to show the people. And <b>really</b> show it!"<br />
<br />
Being the fun-loving person that I am, I decided that if I acquired permission from my dearest Mother, that I would go. Permission was granted, and all things set. I was going!<br />
<br />
But, since I am still a minor, (in legal terms... ;)) and because Mum didn't want me traveling on a train alone into Melbourne, Georgia came (arrived) at the nearest train station to where I have been staying for past weeks (with my sister) at 7:20 in the morning. And we're a distance (1 hour) from Melbourne city too! (Yep, I'm singing her praise right now! :D)<br />
<br />
There was only five of us demonstrators, plus Georgia who did the talking, and Johnny who videoed. And that was just when we started too! By midday we were down to four... and later less.<br />
<br />
But God blessed, and not long before we lost another team member, we were joined by 7 other youngsters. (Youngsters like me. ;)) It was an interesting how they joined our group. At least for me! You see, I was doing my job, lying 'dead' on the ground, drifting off to sleep (ssh!), when I heard a couple kids saying, "Hey Jana! You alive?" Ummm, what?! <i> </i><br />
<i>First, how do they know my name? Second, </i><i><i>who are they?!</i> Third, </i><i><i>do I know them</i>? </i>I was totally bewildered. So I said nothing. Since I was decidedly dead, they went back to Georgia and kept talking. It sorta hit me how funny the situation was, and I started laughing. Silently of course. But at the same time, I kept peeking from under my 'death sheet' to see who these kids were. That's all it took! When they realised that I was 'alive', and laughing (hey, somethings funny!), they all came a sat in a circle around me. And from then on I had a live audience!<br />
<br />
They asked me such questions as, "Do you get paid for this?" "Nope." "Why not?" "Because I believe in it." "Oh well that's good..."<br />
"Have you been lying here for long?" "Oh I guess. I was falling asleep when you guys came along and startled me!" "Oh wow..."<br />
"Is it fun?" "Totally! I'm loving it!" And I was...<br />
<br />
Then, it was time to move on. We invited our new friends to come and join us. And <b>they did</b>!!!! Though we only had 8 red sheets... So we had all 7 of them, and<br />
1 of our (original) group 'dying' for us. Which was good, as it gave us more opportunities to talk to passer-byers. One person that I talked to said that they agreed with what we were doing, and would be happy to 'drop on the ground' for us. Sadly, as I mentioned, we didn't have enough sheets. :)<br />
<br />
Though, good things don't last forever. And when we got to Southern Cross Train Station, they said they needed to catch the train home. Thus we parted.<br />
<br />
A few *great* talks, demonstrations, and hours later, we caught the train to Jesse's home (one of our team). (Where I was picked up by my lovely friend, Astina.)<br />
<br />
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But that isn't the end! One of our group, Johnny, did a fabulous job catching the day in short form. In just over two minutes, you can watch us demonstrate! Perhaps even, you could participate next time. Yep. Georgia's already planning the next demonstration. Added bonus - I'll probably be there too! ;P And now I say...<br />
<br />
"Come, see!"<br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbDKVrgydD8&list=FL-tkVuH506tPebZAU7dDfVg&index=1">Demonstration clip</a> </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-size: xx-small;">(</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbDKVrgydD8&list=FL-tkVuH506tPebZAU7dDfVg&index=1" id=".reactRoot[1].[1][2][1]{comment10151316639624267_24729910}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[1]" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: #edeff4; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbDKVrgydD8&list=FL-tkVuH506tPebZAU7dDfVg&index=1</a>)<br />
<br />
P.S. Later I asked Georgia how they (the "other youngsters") had known my name, and she told me that she had mentioned it to them, and they had then decided to go talk to me. :DAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-17555975681342414502012-12-24T18:30:00.000+11:002012-12-24T18:30:00.915+11:00Your Relationship Status.....<i>....won't affect where you spent eternity.</i> At least that what I was thinking as I dealt with the lunch dishes the other day. <br />
<br />
All these people, wanting, thinking, hoping, sometimes even praying for their special 'other'. My 14 yr old friend basically spoke for the world when, the other day she said wistfully, "I wish I had a boyfriend!"<br />
<br />
Today there is a craze about 'Oh no! I'm single, I'm gonna die!" Girls wishing they had a guy that really loved them. Would never cheat on them. Always be there for them. Comfort them. Build them up. And, of course, fix up their relationship status.<br />
<br />
<i>It's not socially 'cool' to be single.</i><br />
<br />
I have to admit, I was feeling a little self-righteous as I was thinking about it. <i>"I'm going to wait until I'm old enough to get married before I start worrying about that..."</i> I thought. <i>"And really, your single years are when you can accomplish the most... it's the time when you can focus on glorifying God..</i><br />
<i>I think what people don't realize, is that <b>your relationship status won't affect where you spent eternity</b>."</i> I smiled to myself. <i>Why don't people just "get" it? </i><br />
<br />
Anyways, I was feeling quite good, when it suddenly hit me. I had it <b>wrong. </b>Not everything.. But our relationship status <b>does</b> affect where we will spend eternity. Our relationship with God. If I haven't got a boyfriend, that's fine. <i>That</i> won't affect anything, but if we haven't a relationship with <b><i>God</i></b>, we aren't going to heaven! Simple as that.<br />
<br />
Put it this way, say you're planning a birthday party. But first, let's back up a bit.<br />
Imagine you've got this rival. She's a nasty person. Absolutely <b>everything</b> she does, is to cause you pain. She can't hurt you physically, so her plan is to steal all your friends that she possibly can. And mind you, once she's stolen your friends, they're not the same. 'Cause they've completely changed. They don't like you anymore. Actually, wait. Some even <b>hate</b> you. Some of the ones that had even been your best friends before! Some say you don't exist. You're a mere story. Yet they knew you before. They shared such special moments with you. Memories to treasure. You wonder what happened.... You even try to win them back! Some do return, but most don't. <br />
<br />
Now back to your birthday party. You're a kind hearted, benevolent person. So even though they've rejected you, you've sent out invitations to them. A few have accepted, and is working on a friendship with you, so that when they come, they and you, can enjoy the time spent together. But then some ignored the invitation. Some down-right rejected it! Some came and told you off for even inviting them. Some said that you weren't a good person, there's no way they want to come to your party!<br />
<br />
Now, say you're doing your party in a different way. This way, you go collect your friends and <b>bring them</b> to the party. Would you go out, to those people who you tried so hard to be friendly to, put yourself on the line for, but who rejected you and your invitation? Those people who now hate you. Who have become best friends with this evil girl whose only plan is to destroy. Would you bring them in? Or would you bring in your faithful friends? Sure, they might've hurt you before. But they were really and truly sorry. They made up for it the best they could. Reconciled with you. Not only your faithful friends, but the friends who are new friends. Who used to do things to hurt you, but are now truly sorry. Sure you would!<br />
<br />
Ah, but I hear some say, "But <b>I</b> would be the good Samaritan, and bring the ones who rejected me in for my party anyway! Then they'd see how good and nice I was, even though they were so mean."<br />
Wait. They hate you now. The ones that don't know you, well they're going to side with the others, as they <b>do</b> know them. Or at least their leader. And since their leader is such a spiteful, destructive person, do you think her followers are going to be less? Do think they are going to restrain from doing to you, someone they now hate, what they were doing even to each other, people they didn't hate? Don't you think they will ruin your party? <br />
<br />
<i>And that, my friend, is how it is with us and God. That is why we need to have a relationship with Him. <b>It really does affect where we spent eternity. </b></i>Btw, just because you have a relationship with someone, it doesn't mean you can just hurt them, continue hurting them, and expect to remain on best terms with them. No. That's when the enemy, that usurper girl will come and get you. When you fall, you've got to get right up, and keep going. Otherwise the enemy will come, sweet talk you into joining her. She's so subtle, you won't even realize it. Until it could be too late.<br />
My dear friends, every time we sin, we hurt God. Every time we sin, we fall down. And it is then that Satan gains the victory. When we don't get up and keep moving. When we fail to keep our eyes on Jesus. We lose the crown of salvation. The enemy spits on our Lords face, jeering as he says, "Look at your child. Another one. Mine."<br />
<br />
<i>God is everything we long for. Father, Comforter, Lover, Builder, Faithful... </i>Come on, He sent His Son to die on the cross, <b><i>because He so loved us.</i></b><i> </i>And He did it, <b>before we loved Him.</b><br />
<br />
Come. Join me. Let us cultivate a relationship with God. Dig into His Word. Learn of Him. Join hands with Him. That when the end comes, we made be found faithful. <b>Ready and waiting.</b>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-51774178131827735642012-12-24T02:35:00.000+11:002012-12-24T02:35:24.927+11:00In Everything......
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…<i>..Give thanks? What?! No way!
That's ludicrous,</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> I thought to
myself. </span><i>I'm not going 'give thanks' that we're an hour from
home now (finally!), and the car just conked. It won't start back up
either!</i>
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<br />
</div>
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<span style="font-style: normal;">In the
front seats of the car, Mum and Stella were praying earnestly that
the car would start. I had been too, until 10 minutes of praying and
failed attempts at starting the car, had passed. Then I'd just
decided we were just going to have to camp out the night in the car.</span></div>
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<br />
</div>
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<span style="font-style: normal;">It was
then that the thought came, </span><i>'thank God that the car won't
start. You need to thank God for the bad <b>as well as the good.</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">'
I, honestly, was incedrulous. </span></span><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">How
silly. No way.</span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
I remembered the verse 'In everything thing give thanks (for this is
the will of the Lord)', but it wasn't enough. I continued to wrestle
for a few more minutes before.... I finally gave in and bowed my head.</span></span></div>
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<br />
</div>
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“<span style="font-style: normal;"><b>Dear
God,</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;"><b>Thank-you
that the car won't start.</b></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">”</span></span></div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I
</span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>literally</b></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
didn't get to say 'Amen'. At that moment I heard Stella say to Mum,
'Just try start it </span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>one</b></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
more time.' So Mum did. And right then, just as I was thanking God
that the car </span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>wouldn't</b></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
start, it did. Not only that, but we got all the way home too! (60
kms of gravel in the dark.)</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
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<span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">In
the morning, after Dad checked out what was wrong with the car, he
said, “</span></span><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">I can't
explain how you got home with this vehicle. </span><b>It was a
miracle.</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">”</span></span></div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I
have an awesome God. I think I'm going to remember to thank Him
sooner the next time! ;) It just helps me to remember, that God says for us to thank and praise Him, not just when everything is going right. And He means it too. :)</span></span></div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">P.S.
This incident occurred a few years ago now. I wrote this experience
out when I was having a hard time being thankful for something that
was happening, when I saw nothing much to be thankful about. God is
good. :)</span></span></div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-29144588257311811282012-11-18T15:06:00.001+11:002012-11-18T15:06:40.064+11:00Teaching Thankfulness<br />
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“Hannah. What are you thankful for? Apples?” I prompted, as she held a piece of the juicy fruit to her mouth.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
“Yes!” She exclaimed. And then went on to explain why in her assorted mix of French and Croatian. Okay, to be honest, she’s only 23 months old, and it’s not any foreign language, but her version of English… ;)</div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Caleb, what are you thankful for?” Danica asked Caleb.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span lang="EN-US">“A lovely week…” He started out slowly. “Lots of tanks..” “You mean irrigation pipes?” Danica wondered. (As Daddy Bear (Nathan) had been setting up the irrigation system in the garden earlier in the day.) “Yes!” He replied. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span lang="EN-US">Then went on. “I’m also thankful for lots of sunshine.” He finished. You see, here in Victoria, Aus, it is cloudy a lot of the time. And this week, praise God, we had quite a bit of sunshine! That Friday particularly. I had to admit that I was quite thankful for the sunshine too. After all, I come from Queensland!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span lang="EN-US">I may as well give some background to this random questioning. You see, ever since I was little, my family had a tradition of saying our “Thank-you’s” – what we were thankful to God for from things that happened in the week, on Friday night. And the rules were, that we would start from the youngest family member, and work our way up. Well, when my sister, Danica, got married, she kept on with the tradition in her home. It is a great habit to form. And it really is touching to see children, still toddlers, thanking God for the things that make up their week.</span></div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-2535723018827390582012-11-01T14:49:00.000+11:002012-11-01T14:58:07.159+11:00Paparazzi. Run!<br />
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<span lang="EN-US">Yesterday,
I was going for a (late) morning walk. It was a beautiful sunny day, and I was
headed to my favourite spot down the road. The spot with the best views of
course. :D <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I had just
exited the property and started heading up the road, when I happened to look
back down the driveway. To my surprise, I saw a pretty little princess in pink
following me! </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3XCnRiiGDOc/UJHuMTcAQkI/AAAAAAAAAp0/EN1jB01rEaU/s1600/IMG_9148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="144" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3XCnRiiGDOc/UJHuMTcAQkI/AAAAAAAAAp0/EN1jB01rEaU/s320/IMG_9148.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Suddenly I wished I had a camera in my hands…. “Hmm…” I thought, “that’s easy enough to remedy!” With that, I took off - back down the driveway.</span></div>
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<br />
A little
while later, I had the camera safely in my hands, and a little Miss perched on
my hip too! As I wanted to get the picture that I’d envisioned when I saw
Hannah standing on the driveway watching me, I put her down so I could run to
the spot where I’d been before, when she instantly turned on her heel and
headed home!</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cCg3wSxQvsw/UJHut35wYDI/AAAAAAAAAp8/-REN8fAtpjg/s1600/IMG_9134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cCg3wSxQvsw/UJHut35wYDI/AAAAAAAAAp8/-REN8fAtpjg/s320/IMG_9134.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I had
planned on taking just one photo, and then continuing on my walk – alone. </span>But,
despite that fact that it was minutes to her naptime, I just couldn’t resist
that pretty little face and sprinted after her retreating little figure.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cjuDdd3umDA/UJHuKGu8wTI/AAAAAAAAAps/GyMWban3kbs/s1600/IMG_9137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cjuDdd3umDA/UJHuKGu8wTI/AAAAAAAAAps/GyMWban3kbs/s320/IMG_9137.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">After a
peaceful walk, hand in hand, Hannah and I arrived at the spot with the good
view. And here are some of the pictures I took!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-60223049854919005152012-10-10T17:10:00.001+11:002012-10-10T17:10:46.186+11:00Catherine Marshall Makes a Speech<br />
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This is the speech from the movie "A Man Called Peter"... it's SO raw and honest. And true.<br />
<br />
And no, it's not chauvinistic.<br />
<br />
(Catherine Woods <i>gets up to speak at a rowdy youth rally and is met by claps and cheers from the boys</i>….)<br />
<br />
“If that’s because I’m a girl, thank you boys.<br />
<br />
“And
now, if you’ll let me, I’d like to talk as a girl, to the girls here
this afternoon. I know if you boys will listen, they’ll listen too. And
I’m just as sure that the reason they’ve been just as rude and silly as
you’ve been, is because they had the mistaken idea that you wanted them
to be.<br />
<br />
“I’d never thought much about being a girl until
two years ago, when I learned from a man what a wonderful thing it is to
be a woman. Until that Sunday morning, I considered myself lucky to be
living in the 19th century. The century of progress and emancipation.
The century when, supposedly, we women came into our own. But I’d
forgotten that the emancipation of woman really began with Christianity.
When a girl, a very young girl, received the greatest honor in history.
She was chosen to be the mother of the Savior of the world. And when
her son grew up and began to teach His way of life, He ushered woman
into a new place in human relations. He accorded her a dignity she’d
never known before, and crowned her with such glory, that down through
the ages, she was revered, protected and loved. Men wanted to think of
her as different from themselves. Better… made of finer, more delicate
clay.<br />
<br />
“It remained for the 20th century, the century of
progress, to pull her down from her throne. She wanted equality. For
1900 years, she had not been equal. She had been superior. To stand
equal with men, naturally she had to step down. Now, being equal with
men, she has won all their “rights and privileges.” The right to get
drunk. The right to swear. The right to smoke. The right to work like a
man. To think like a man. To act like a man. We’ve won all this, but how
can we feel so triumphant, when men no longer feel as romantic about
us, as they did about our grandmothers? When we’ve lost something sweet
and mysterious? Something as, as hard to describe as the haunting
wistful fragrance of violets?<br />
<br />
“Of course, these aren’t my
original thoughts. They’re the thoughts I heard that Sunday morning. But
from them, some thought of my own were born. And the conclusion
reached, that somewhere along the line, we women got off the track.<br />
“Poets
have become immortal by remembering on paper a girl’s smile. But I’ve
never read a poem rhapsodizing over a girl’s giggles at a smutty joke.
Or I’ve never heard a man brag that his sweetheart or his wife could
drink just as much as he, and become just as intoxicated. I’ve never
heard a man say that a girl’s mouth was prettier with a cigarette
hanging out of it, or that her hair smelled divinely of stale tobacco.<br />
I’m afraid that’s all I have to say… I’ve never made a speech before.”Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-90598172390740858502012-10-07T15:18:00.000+11:002012-10-07T15:18:56.531+11:00Lads, Lass and Lamb<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-56991266926453625852012-10-05T08:58:00.000+10:002012-10-05T10:50:04.012+10:00Break of Dawn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Grey clouds cover the horizon.</div>
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Bringin' hard times, I'm surmizin.</div>
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No matter 'bout their silver lining,</div>
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For a ray of sun I'm pining.</div>
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<br /></div>
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They're coming fast and thick</div>
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Dropping their loads like brick.</div>
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Will I shatter through the storm?</div>
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Or will I stand firm, though torn?</div>
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I look abroad</div>
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And think of my Lord;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Feel Him by my side,</div>
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Giving me a place to hide.</div>
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<br /></div>
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"O my daughter," said He</div>
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"Over there, don't you see?"</div>
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I looked toward the east</div>
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- now not afraid in the least.</div>
<br />
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And through the storm,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I saw the break of dawn. ~ </div>
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<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-44390247120183374682012-10-04T16:30:00.000+10:002012-10-04T16:30:15.920+10:00King John and the Abbot of Canterbury<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span></span><br />
<br />
<span>AN ancient story I'll tell you anon,<br />
Of a notable prince, that was called King John;<br />
He ruled over England with main and might,<br />
But he did great wrong, and maintained little right.<br />
And I'll tell you a story, a story so merry,<br />
Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury;<br />
How for his housekeeping and high renown,<br />
They rode[3] post to bring him to London town.<br />
<br />
A hundred men, as the King heard say,<br />
The Abbot kept in his house every day;<br />
And fifty gold chains, without any doubt,<br />
In velvet coats waited the Abbot about.<br />
<br />
"How now, Father Abbot? I hear it of thee,<br />
Thou keepest a far better house than me;<br />
And for thy housekeeping and high renown,<br />
I fear thou work'st treason against my crown."<br />
<br />
"My liege,[4]" quoth the Abbot, "I would it were known,<br />
I am spending nothing but what is my own;<br />
And I trust your grace will not put me in fear,<br />
For spending my own true‑gotten gear."<br />
<br />
"Yes, yes, Father Abbot, thy fault is high,<br />
And now for the same thou needest must die;<br />
And except thou canst answer me questions three,<br />
Thy head struck off from thy body shall be."<br />
<br />
"Now first," quo' the King, "as I sit here,<br />
With my crown of gold on my head so fair,<br />
Among all my liegemen of noble birth,<br />
Thou must tell to one penny what I am worth."<br />
<br />
"Secondly, tell me, beyond all doubt,<br />
How quickly I may ride the whole world about;<br />
And at the third question thou must not shrink,<br />
But tell me here truly, what do I think?"<br />
<br />
<br />
"O, these are deep questions for my shallow wit,<br />
And I cannot answer your Grace as yet;<br />
But if you will give me a fortnight's space,<br />
I'll do my endeavor to answer your Grace."<br />
<br />
"Now a fortnight's space to thee will I give,<br />
And that is the longest thou hast to live;<br />
For unless thou answer my questions three,<br />
Thy life and thy lands are forfeit to me."<br />
<br />
Away rode the Abbot all sad at this word;<br />
He rode to Cambridge and Oxenford;<br />
But never a doctor there was so wise,<br />
That could by his learning an answer devise.<br />
<br />
Then home rode the Abbot, with comfort so cold,<br />
And he met his shepherd, a‑going to fold:<br />
"Now, good Lord Abbot, you are welcome home;<br />
What news do you bring us from great King John?"<br />
<br />
"Sad news, sad news, Shepherd, I must give;<br />
That I have but three days more to live.<br />
I must answer the King his questions three,<br />
Or my head struck off from my body shall be."<br />
<br />
"The first is to tell him, as he sits there,<br />
With his crown of gold on his head so fair<br />
Among all his liegemen of noble birth,<br />
To within one penny, what he is worth."<br />
<br />
"The second, to tell him, beyond all doubt,<br />
How quickly he may ride this whole world about;<br />
And at question the third, I must not shrink,<br />
But tell him there truly, what does he think?"<br />
<br />
"O, cheer up, my lord; did you never hear yet<br />
That a fool may teach a wise man wit?<br />
Lend me your serving‑men, horse, and apparel,<br />
And I'll ride to London to answer your quarrel."<br />
<br />
"With your pardon, it oft has been told to me<br />
That I'm like[5] your lordship as ever can be:<br />
And if you will but lend me your gown,<br />
There is none shall know us at London town."<br />
<br />
"Now horses and serving‑men thou shalt have,<br />
With sumptuous raiment gallant and brave;<br />
With crosier[6], and mitre,[7] and rochet,[8] and cope,[9]<br />
Fit to draw near to our father, the pope."[10]<br />
<br />
"Now welcome, Sir Abbot," the King he did say,<br />
"Tis well thou'rt come back to keep thy day;<br />
For if thou canst answer my questions three,<br />
Thy life and thy living both saved shall be."<br />
<br />
"And first, as thou seest me sitting here,<br />
With my crown of gold on my head so fair,<br />
Among my liegemen of noble birth,<br />
Tell to one penny what I am worth."<br />
<br />
"For thirty pence our Saviour was sold[11]<br />
Among the false Jews as I have been told;<br />
And twenty‑nine is the worth of thee;<br />
For I think thou are one penny worse than he."<br />
<br />
The King, he laughed, and swore by St. Bittle,<br />
"I did not think I was worth so little!<br />
Now secondly tell me, beyond all doubt,<br />
How quickly I may ride this world about."<br />
<br />
"You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same,<br />
Until the next morning he riseth again;<br />
And then your Grace need never doubt<br />
But in twenty‑four hours you'll ride it about."<br />
<br />
The King he laughed, and swore by St. Jone,<br />
"I did not think I could do it so soon!<br />
Now from question the third thou must not shrink,<br />
But tell me truly, what do I think?"<br />
<br />
"Yea, that I shall do, and make your Grace merry:<br />
You think I'm the Abbot of Canterbury.<br />
But I'm his poor shepherd, as plain you may see,<br />
That am come to beg pardon for him and for me."<br />
<br />
The King he laughed, and swore by the mass,<br />
"I'll make thee Lord Abbot this day in his place!"<br />
"Now nay, my Liege, be not in such speed;<br />
For alas! I can neither write nor read."<br />
<br />
"Four nobles[12] a week, then I'll give to thee,<br />
For this merry jest thou has shown to me;<br />
And tell the old Abbot, when thou gettest home,<br />
Thou has brought a free pardon from good King John."</span><span>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
[1] King John (1166-1216) reigned in England in the years 1199-1216. He is the evil monarch portrayed in <em>The Legend of Robin Hood</em> and he plays an even more central role in Sir Walter Scott’s novel, <em>Ivanhoe</em>. He
was involved in a long dispute with the Pope, a dispute that
foreshadows Henry VIII’s more successful revolt against papal authority
over England (that is why most English people today are Anglican, not
Catholic). However, lovers of freedom remember King John with mixed
feelings, for his unscrupulousness, unpopularity, sexual transgressions,
and defeats in war led, in 1215, to the Great Charter (<em>Magna Carta)</em>,
an important milestone on the Western road to a system of checks and
balances. Winston Churchill wisely said: "When the long tally is
added, it will be seen that the British nation and the English-speaking
world owe far more to the vices of John than to the labours of virtuous
sovereigns."<br />
[2] <em>Abbot</em>: Head of monastery. Nowadays, the archbishop of Canterbury is the head of the Anglican church.<br />
[3] <em>Ride post:</em> Carry messages on horseback. Since such riders were fast, “to ride post” meant to do something quickly and expeditiously.<br />
[4] <em>Liege</em>: high-ranking individual in feudal England.<br />
[5] Like: The shepherd and the abbot look alike<br />
[6] Cr<em>o</em>zier: A staff (walking stick) carried by bishops and abbots as a symbol of office.<br />
[7] <em>Mitre</em>: A headdress worn by bishops and abbots<br />
[8] <em>Rochet: </em>A white linen ceremonial robe with close-fitting sleeves worn especially by bishops<br />
[9] <em>Cope</em>: Robe worn by church officials<br />
[10] <em>Pope</em>: In the 13th Century, England was still subservient to Rome<br />
[11] <em>Sold</em>:
Jesus Christ and his twelve apostles were Jews, living in what is now
the states of Israel and Palestine. Jesus was betrayed, for thirty
shekels, by one of his apostles, Judas Iscariot.<br />
[12] <em>Noble</em>: an old English gold coin.</span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-6663625152990878292012-10-03T10:32:00.000+10:002012-10-03T10:32:18.884+10:00Hannah "Joy" & Caleb<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-23002542376032588972012-09-25T09:34:00.001+10:002012-09-25T12:55:43.224+10:00Taste and See<div><p>“I love my early morning walks! In fact, tomorrow I'm going to get up and go for a walk at 4:30 am. That way I can get in 2 hours of walking before I have to come back and make breakfast." I rattled on animatedly to Stella.</p>
<p>Stella looked at me in disbelief. “You're crazy!" She exclaimed. “Why get up so early, just so you can go for a 2 hour walk?!"</p>
<p>“Because I love it!" I replied with a grin.<br>
“You don't know what you're missing out on, because you haven't tried it." I added.</p>
<p>Straight after I had said that last sentence, I realised... <br>
People say they don't need or want God. But they don't know what they're missing out on. Because they haven't “tried" Him.</p>
<p>O taste and see that the Lord is good. Ps 34:8</p>
</div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-78626385286014221162012-05-29T13:08:00.009+10:002012-06-01T15:31:00.606+10:00Jezebel & Co.<div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><span style="font-size: 100%; text-align: left; "><span>"Sorry we're late...." I started as we stepped into my violin teachers house. "Dolly kidded this morning." I explained.</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><div style="text-align: center;"><span>"Oh really?" She replied. "What'd she have?"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span>"Two kids. Jairus, a boy, and Jezebel, a girl." I grinned happily. It was the first of the 2012 May kidding season. The day was the 11th of May.</span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eaV2r7QITDw/T8RAM3z1Z_I/AAAAAAAAAgM/tCY2bIfER2o/s1600/DSCI0084.JPG" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eaV2r7QITDw/T8RAM3z1Z_I/AAAAAAAAAgM/tCY2bIfER2o/s320/DSCI0084.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5747789614315562994" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span>Jezebel.</span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><span>Sadly we didn't get any pics of Jairus before we sold him.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; ">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div><div style="font-size: 100%; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">"Jana, where is Jamella?" Mum asked me that Friday evening as we were doing the milking.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">"I don't know. She's probably kidding somewhere... can you bring in Pie, please?" I grabbed Kenita and pulled her out of the garden before anyone else could shove their way in.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">"Sure. But don't you think you should find Jamella before it is dark?" Mum let Pie in.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">"Well, I'll finish milking Pie, and then the rest of the goats will have to wait while I find her." I replied.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">When I'd gotten Pie out, I started down towards Dad's bee-shed. When I was nearing it, I saw a dark shape in the trees, and headed straight toward it. It was what I thought it was. Jamella. She had two kids. Before picking them up, I checked what they were. A boy and a girl. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Later on, with much difficulty, we decided on their names. The boy became Jehu, and the girl Jaminna.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iB8Ri1gUBP8/T8RANd_DFII/AAAAAAAAAgY/DB64EWqsMHY/s1600/DSCI0090.JPG" style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Georgia, serif; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iB8Ri1gUBP8/T8RANd_DFII/AAAAAAAAAgY/DB64EWqsMHY/s320/DSCI0090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5747789624563143810" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span>^Jaminna.^</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; text-align: left; "><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J6dYNnPecVU/T8RpS_HVRdI/AAAAAAAAAhA/GwM2Mmzip7M/s1600/DSCF0287.JPG" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J6dYNnPecVU/T8RpS_HVRdI/AAAAAAAAAhA/GwM2Mmzip7M/s320/DSCF0287.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5747834799332345298" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span>^Jehu.^</span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; ">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: left; "><div style="font-style: normal; ">"How are the goats?" The usual question coming from Mum. It was Friday morning. The 18th of May. I had just come up from milking.</div><div style="font-style: normal; ">"They're all good..... Oh and Chrissy kidded!" I replied merrily.</div><div style="font-style: normal; ">"Oh really?! What'd she have?" Both Mum and Stella looked at me expectantly.</div><div style="font-style: normal; ">"She had a little girl. And I'm calling her Dana (pronounced Dayna)." I smiled back at them. </div><div style="font-style: normal; ">Though poor Dana was a week old when Mum got to see her, and she'll be 3 weeks old when Stella gets to see her....</div><div style="font-style: normal; "><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gR8d_FFGjLw/T8RAN4C14mI/AAAAAAAAAgk/SXNqsNArMk8/s1600/DSCI0102.JPG" style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Georgia, serif; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gR8d_FFGjLw/T8RAN4C14mI/AAAAAAAAAgk/SXNqsNArMk8/s320/DSCI0102.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5747789631558378082" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span>^Dana.^</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; text-align: center; ">~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div><div style="text-align: left; "><div style="font-style: normal; ">"I wonder when Jillee is going to kid. She was due on the 16th, and it's the 22rd now." I said to Mum.</div><div style="font-style: normal; ">"Hmm, yeah, I wonder too." She mused.</div><div style="font-style: normal; ">"She's probably waiting for us to go to Able's birthday party before she kids. Naughty little goat." I laughed thinking about. "She must've had a talk to Chrissy. Remember how Chrissy was 7 days overdue, yet she waited till Friday night before Cherith's wedding to kid?"</div><div style="font-style: normal; ">"I remember." Mum smiled.</div><div>It was two days later. We were home now, and I went straight down to the yards to check on Jillee. I heard a little cry. <i>That must be a new kid..</i> I thought. And sure enough, as I walked into the yards, I saw her. A gorgeous little fawn coloured doe kid. She was duely dubbed Buttercup. :)</div></div></div></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U8LNjNVB65A/T8RAOLNkAqI/AAAAAAAAAgw/LzhbUikt-2I/s1600/DSCI0120.JPG" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U8LNjNVB65A/T8RAOLNkAqI/AAAAAAAAAgw/LzhbUikt-2I/s320/DSCI0120.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5747789636703617698" /></a><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><span>^Buttercup.^</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; ">~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div><div style="text-align: left; "><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>"Hey, look over there!" Mum said in surprise.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>"What is it?" I asked. "Oh wait, it's the Floxarians! I wonder if Flicka kidded. And if so, I wonder who the father is.... look! There she is! And there's a kid with her!" I squealed. And with that, I was running down towards her. It didn't take me much effort to have the kid caught and in my arms. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>"What is it?" Mum asked.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>"A boy." I scowled. "But it's Zing's kid." At that I smiled.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>"He's sure cute!" I had to agree. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>"Mum. I know what he'll. He'll be Fling!" I grinned.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>"Haha, perfect." She smiled.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WOeZwgr5524/T8RpTG5NMAI/AAAAAAAAAhM/72FxwH8RIQw/s1600/DSCF0233.JPG" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WOeZwgr5524/T8RpTG5NMAI/AAAAAAAAAhM/72FxwH8RIQw/s320/DSCF0233.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5747834801420578818" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span>^Fling.^</span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><div style="font-style: normal; "><span>"Hey Mum. Why is Dad honking his horn?" I looked out the window.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span>"I guess because he must want you to open the gate for him. You'd better go open it for him." She turned back to what she was doing.</span></div><div><span>I paused momentarily as I put my boots on and walked out the door. <i>Hmmm,</i> I thought to myself, <i>He must have picked up some animal, and brought it home... I wonder what it is this time! I don't think it'd be a kid.... the bush goats start really kidding in Spring..... deffinitely not an emu chick....</i> I got to the gate and opened it. When Dad drove up to me, he paused and opened the door. There is was. Whatever "it" was.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span>"What is it? Where'd you get it from?" I put my hand out to touch the white little thing.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span>"It's a lamb. And I don't know what it is. (Gender.) I just saw it on the road. Almost ran over it. It had no mother, and I couldn't just let the poor baby get eaten." He started to close the door.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span>"Okay. Well I'll shut the gate and come up. I knew you had to have some animal with you, or you would've opened the gate yourself!" I laughed.</span></div><div><span>Later, I "checked" the lamb, and found that it was girl. <i>Oh well, at least it's girl...</i> Sadly, I'm not too fond of sheep/lambs. They all look the same! They don't even smell as nice as goats/kids! lol Oh well. I'm already getting to love her. :) She might win me over to sheep yet!</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ELyD1ES4gIA/T8cfhZkd9MI/AAAAAAAAAhc/2pBdjzRrJ3w/s1600/DSCI0262.JPG" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ELyD1ES4gIA/T8cfhZkd9MI/AAAAAAAAAhc/2pBdjzRrJ3w/s320/DSCI0262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5748598108021716162" border="0" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; text-align: center; "><span>Name pending. ;)</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; text-align: center; "><span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div></div></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-37388769231918505612012-05-26T18:07:00.001+10:002012-05-26T18:08:57.124+10:00Speak Now!<div style="text-align: left; "><div><span>"Lets read in Proverbs this time." I suggested to my friend.</span></div><div><span>"Sure! I love Proverbs. I'd say it's my favourite book!" She replied happily.</span></div><div><span>"Okay. I chose last time. You choose this time." I said cheekily.</span></div><div><span>"Hey! You know I don't like choosing!" She retorted.</span></div><div><span>"Why don't you just pick random? Lets see..... there is 31 chapters...." I paused.</span></div><div><span>"Chapter 31 is a cool chapter." She said.</span></div><div><span>"Well, then. How about we read Proverbs 31?" I asked.</span></div><div><span>"Sounds great." She replied. And we started.</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>We were in the middle of our once-a-week tradition. Devotions over the phone. Reading passages of the Bible, and then discussing it. We had just read verse 8, when I stopped. </span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>"Wow. That is so clear!" I gasped. Surprised.</span></div><div><span>"Hmm.... it is." She commented.</span></div><div><span>"It says to <i>Open thy mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as are appointed to destruction.</i> You know what comes to my mind?" I asked her.</span></div><div><span>"No. What?" She questioned.</span></div><div><span>"Babies. They can't speak for themselves. And abortion appoints them for destruction. Here is an order to be a mouth for them. We need to speak up. Plead their cause. I'd always known it was wrong, and that we need to do something, but this is a command from God. We need, not want, need to speak up against abortion." I looked at the Bible, shaking my head softly. I'd never seen it before. Never known of this divine command. </span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>Later in the day, I remembered something I'd started. Something that would enable me to be a mouth. A mouth for the speechless...... It was time to finish it. </span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LKLdL-YRRaU/T8BiTz3bGlI/AAAAAAAAAeU/U6pXRFvBzyk/s200/New%2BHannah.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5746701217004460626" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><b>Are you willing to speak for the speechless?</b></span></div></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703794902557191229.post-86199252434033521662012-05-25T20:01:00.002+10:002012-05-25T20:17:43.984+10:00Take It Or Leave It<div><span>"I was reading in Exodus this morning... you know, where God was giving instructions about the building of the tabernacle. And I realised something, for the first time." My friend and I were discussing Bible passages over the phone.</span></div><div><span>"Yes?" She replied.</span></div><div><span>"Well, I realised something that many people obviously miss - God is very precise."</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>Really, when you look at the Bible, you'll see it. Everywhere! I guess the reason I noticed it there, was because it goes for so many chapters! But it says in Exodus 27:14-17.</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><i> (14.) "The hangings of one side of the gate shall be fifteen cubits: their pillars three, and their sockets three. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><i>(15.) And on the other side shall be hangings fifteen cubits: their pillars three, and their sockets three. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><i>(16.) And for the gate of the court shall be an hanging of twenty cubits, of blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine twined linen, wrought with needlework: and their pillars shall be four, and their sockets four. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><i>(17.) All the pillars round about the court shall be filleted with silver; their hooks shall be of silver, and their sockets of brass."</i></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>God is precise about everything. Including His law. When He says something, He means exactly that. No bending. Take it or leave it.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0