<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:56:50.922-08:00</updated><category term='ponderments'/><category term='i'/><title type='text'>Not Alone in the Story's Pages</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>178</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3939156338778362170</id><published>2011-09-05T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T19:46:04.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Long Hiatus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I took a long hiatus from blogging.  Like over a year if you check my previous post.  In that year lots has happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went white water rafting for the first time.  I got more involved with photography with James, and now even own the proud owner of my own camera.  My Grandpa Lenz passed away.  I survived my most challenging year of teaching yet.  I was asked to join my building's leadership team.  I went to the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta.  I watched a friend grieve.  My sister graduated from college.  I visited my brother in Colorado, twice.  I visited home.  James and I joined a lifegroup with our church.  I made dear new friends.  I moved out of Grant and Vanessa's house.  Old friends had babies.  I laughed, I cried, I grew.&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Watch out blogosphere, I'm back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3939156338778362170?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3939156338778362170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3939156338778362170' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3939156338778362170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3939156338778362170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/09/long-hiatus.html' title='A Long Hiatus'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2378448101271546244</id><published>2010-07-18T22:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T22:07:45.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditation</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;I come on my knees&lt;br /&gt;                    To lay down before you&lt;br /&gt;                    Bringing all that I am&lt;br /&gt;                    Longing only to know you&lt;br /&gt;                    Seeking your face&lt;br /&gt;                    And not only your hand&lt;br /&gt;                    I find you embracing me&lt;br /&gt;                    Just as I am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;                                      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;And  I lift these                      songs&lt;br /&gt;                    To you and you alone&lt;br /&gt;                    As I sing to you&lt;br /&gt;                    In my praises make your home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;                     To my audience of one&lt;br /&gt;                    You are Father, and you are Son&lt;br /&gt;                    As your spirit flows free,&lt;br /&gt;                    Let it find within me&lt;br /&gt;                    A heart that beats to praise you.&lt;br /&gt;                    And now just to know you more&lt;br /&gt;                    Has become my great reward&lt;br /&gt;                    To see your kingdom come&lt;br /&gt;                    And your will be done&lt;br /&gt;                    I only desire to be yours,&lt;br /&gt;                    Lord&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2378448101271546244?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2378448101271546244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2378448101271546244' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2378448101271546244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2378448101271546244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2010/07/meditation.html' title='Meditation'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3910352461746199777</id><published>2010-03-11T21:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T21:04:35.138-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Roads...Less Traveled</title><content type='html'>There are many roads in Kansas, very few of which I actually drive with any frequency.  9th Street I drive down, 21st Street I drive down, 135 I drive down...well up I guess since I usually take it north.   I don't have the need, or often the chance to drive any of the other ones, especially the really winding ones that can lead to forgotten parts of the state that somehow make you want to slow down and take in the view.  These roads lead to places that make me think how pretty Kansas is sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S5nRrjv-vfI/AAAAAAAAAUc/-2chhm-I5j4/s1600-h/Kansas+Roads.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S5nRrjv-vfI/AAAAAAAAAUc/-2chhm-I5j4/s400/Kansas+Roads.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447615770542390770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I don't have any need to drive these roads, I'm dating someone who does.  Which leads to Saturdays filled with driving, photographic adventures, one giant sized iced tea from Sonic (one of the perks of living here!), and memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday, James and I set out for an adventure.  We drove through sleepy Kansas towns, taking pictures, laughing, me learning to drive a manual.  It was the making of a great day.  Until we ran out of gas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, with my big mouth, had literally said 5 minutes before that "I've never ran out of gas".  Ha, ate my words on that one.  One phone call to AAA, an hour wait later, one incredibly uncomfortable me because I really really REALLY had to pee we were on our way, no worse for the wear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most ironic part, well parts of the day?  We ran out of gas across the street from the car dealership that James works at and in front of an RV retailer.  Across the street from a car dealership, and in front of an RV retailer with about a billion bathrooms, none of which I could use.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3910352461746199777?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3910352461746199777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3910352461746199777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3910352461746199777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3910352461746199777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2010/03/roadsless-traveled.html' title='Roads...Less Traveled'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S5nRrjv-vfI/AAAAAAAAAUc/-2chhm-I5j4/s72-c/Kansas+Roads.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3035903200324672835</id><published>2010-03-07T19:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T19:32:17.295-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Laughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S5RqvTd-orI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/_JCRLtr9tyY/s1600-h/open_window.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 336px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S5RqvTd-orI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/_JCRLtr9tyY/s400/open_window.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446095210310181554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was one of those early spring days, like Indian summer in reverse last Friday.  After running out for lunch I came back to school and decided to open the window to get some of the early spring air into the classroom.  I don't know what exactly it was that set us all off, the open window, the changing weather, the state assessments around the corner, or the fact that it was 3:30 on a Friday, but some extraordinary force came over the classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began to lose focus.  I began to goof off.  It spread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had taken off my flip-flops earlier and was walking around the room barefoot, which I do a lot when it gets nicer out.  I was working with a group of 4 on some math they were still struggling with.  It was one of the groups that can be a bit more challenging, and things often take longer.  While I was waiting for them to finish writing what I had asked, I decided  it would be a good idea to pick up a base 10 block with my toes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little girl who was sitting to my right thought that this was just the most hilarious thing she had ever seen.  She got the giggles, the kind that started in her belly and seemed to bubble out of everywhere.  She laughed, and laughed.  Soon the other 3 students joined her, and then I.  Not long after that most of the other students, who 5 minutes ago were working diligently, were looking at our group laughing along with us, even though they had no idea what they were laughing at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This prompted me to think about the end of the school year, perhaps it is the weather, hinting towards spring, the end of yet another school year.  This group of urchins and I have been together for two years, and I am beginning to feel very melancholy about the end of this era.  If you can be friends with 24 eight and nine year olds, I am.  If some of the people you look forward most to seeing are 4 feet tall, mine are.  I love them, respect them and learn from them, probably more than they do from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And next fall, when Indian summer comes and a new wind is blowing through my classroom, I will miss them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3035903200324672835?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3035903200324672835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3035903200324672835' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3035903200324672835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3035903200324672835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2010/03/laughter.html' title='Laughter'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S5RqvTd-orI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/_JCRLtr9tyY/s72-c/open_window.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5364556224833453188</id><published>2010-02-26T12:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T12:11:49.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Balance...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S4gq-DC-1lI/AAAAAAAAAUI/rKrU5lRTiUI/s1600-h/Balance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S4gq-DC-1lI/AAAAAAAAAUI/rKrU5lRTiUI/s400/Balance.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442647395135313490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...is something I am constantly trying to find in my life.  I have days where I am better at it, and days where I fail.  I hate that people close to me don't see my efforts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5364556224833453188?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5364556224833453188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5364556224833453188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5364556224833453188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5364556224833453188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2010/02/balance.html' title='Balance...'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S4gq-DC-1lI/AAAAAAAAAUI/rKrU5lRTiUI/s72-c/Balance.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-734579582009342946</id><published>2010-01-28T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T16:39:07.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Us Pause in Life's Pleasures - 2009 Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After a quick stop-over in Wichita to drop off my dog, I hit the road again in July headed towards Colorado.  Anna and I decided to have a fun vacation together, and her cousin's wedding in California was just such an occasion.  I drove out to Colorado Springs, spent a day there, and then flew out to LA where we enjoyed a long weekend of wedding-ing and beaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August was a whirlwind with school starting again.  School started on the 17th, and I had a true blessing of looping with my students, moving up from 2nd to 3rd with the same bunch of kids.  This made the beginning of the year much easier, but unfortunately didn't take away any of the stress of putting together a new classroom!  It will definitely be hard to see this group of kids go at the end of this year, we have definitely bonded after our two years together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In September I met my Gramsy, Christi and Mom in Des Moines Iowa for a grandma/sister/daughter/mom dress shopping trip.  I think I tried on about 50 dresses and still ended up buying one online! It was a lot of fun to be able to spend some fun girl time together, and begin getting excited for the wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October was a busy month with a trip to Wisconsin for Zach and Janlee's wedding.  Their wedding weekend was so much fun, full of joy, excitement, preparation, anticipation and completed with a beautiful ceremony and dancing the night away!  October also brought the first pumpkin carving experience of my life with James.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November I went out to Colorado again for a visit to Anna for Thanksgiving.  I got to go to the &lt;a href="http://www.thedalehouse.org/"&gt;Dale House &lt;/a&gt;and experience a Dale House thanksgiving.  Anna and I thankfully avoided the food poisoning that many of the other guests got.  We spent the weekend relaxing at a beautiful home that Anna was house sitting at, sitting in the hot tub having good conversations with wine.  I am constantly reminded of how blessed I am to have such amazing friends, both near and far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December was a full, jam-packed month, although after writing this post I'm beginning to see that many of my months are this way!  I finished up my Urban Teaching Certificate through Hamline University in St. Paul, celebrated Vanessa's birthday over pancakes and painting,  went home for a blessed and relaxing Christmas, and came back to Wichita just in time to celebrate New Years with Vanessa, Grant, James, Christi and Tim.  It was a wonderful way to end a great year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I look towards 2010 I cannot begin to imagine the new and exciting things that God has in store for me.  I cannot wait to see what adventures I will have, where the year will take me, and the ways in which I will grow.  Hang on, the ride just keeps getting better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="535" height="444" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-179c2d466987af21" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D179c2d466987af21%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331662748%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D388A3DD753C09FE1102951297F0C5481A03ED736.2E45CB380CE35DC81A611644FC33C5C80B786CD9%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D179c2d466987af21%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DM5PJTUB3d_gUYXaJi-a12QvOQ0M&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="535" height="444" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D179c2d466987af21%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331662748%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D388A3DD753C09FE1102951297F0C5481A03ED736.2E45CB380CE35DC81A611644FC33C5C80B786CD9%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D179c2d466987af21%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DM5PJTUB3d_gUYXaJi-a12QvOQ0M&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-734579582009342946?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/734579582009342946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=734579582009342946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/734579582009342946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/734579582009342946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2010/01/let-us-pause-in-lifes-pleasures-2009.html' title='Let Us Pause in Life&apos;s Pleasures - 2009 Part 2'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4333620032839758693</id><published>2010-01-07T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T19:02:39.092-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2009 - A Year in Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Inspired by &lt;a href="http://visforvantastic.blogspot.com/"&gt;Vanessa&lt;/a&gt; I've decided to do a review of 2009, and looking back I have had a lot of fun adventures and changes this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0aaNueRbuI/AAAAAAAAAS4/_4pcVMa0yWg/s1600-h/IMG_2368.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 333px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0aaNueRbuI/AAAAAAAAAS4/_4pcVMa0yWg/s400/IMG_2368.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424192361818320610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;In January I moved in with the Mankins; Grant, Vanessa, Dakota and Nora. I'm not sure if I can put into words how much living with them has meant to me, and how much I enjoy having a family here in Kansas. I think this quote best sums it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="LALListItem" valign="top"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;" class="LALListItem" valign="top"&gt;"The most important thing in life is your family. There are days you love them, and others you don't. But, in the end, they're the people you always come home to. Sometimes it's the family you're born into and sometimes it's the one you make for yourself."&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Besides sharing life with one another, Grant and Vanessa have taught me many important life skills like how to wash a cat, make a mean chicken fried steak and what beer goes with what meal.  Thanks guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;February brought a slight emotional breakdown when Truman, my adopted dog, decided to sample some of Nora the cat's litter.  He was very sick for about a week, which ended in a $551.55 vet bill and Grant and I forcing fluids down his throat with a turkey baster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0aaj4NDXmI/AAAAAAAAATI/azdTAmIwswM/s1600-h/February.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 259px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0aaj4NDXmI/AAAAAAAAATI/azdTAmIwswM/s400/February.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424192742387572322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0aaq_m7ogI/AAAAAAAAATQ/fMCtjrutEz4/s1600-h/Sick+Truman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 282px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0aaq_m7ogI/AAAAAAAAATQ/fMCtjrutEz4/s400/Sick+Truman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424192864634249730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I celebrated Valentine's Day at the Loop in Colorado Springs with my bestie, Anna.  We had margaritas the size of our heads and we enjoyed lots of laughter while being the only people in the restaurant not on a date.  What a blessing it has been to live close enough to drive to see her on the occasional long weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March brought about another trip to Colorado when I went out to spend my spring break with another one of my closest friends, my sister!  She and I had the same spring break, and so we met at Anna's in Colorado Springs and spent a week traveling through the state.  Boulder, Estes Park, Rocky Mountain National Park, Pike's Peak, Breckenridge to see Janlee (our now sister-in-law) and back to Colorado Springs.  I did this all with a hood that was completely squashed in on my car, since Vanessa had accidentally backed into my car the day before I left.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0abYLEVqcI/AAAAAAAAATg/d1u1DeCJdx0/s1600-h/March2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 206px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0abYLEVqcI/AAAAAAAAATg/d1u1DeCJdx0/s400/March2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424193640804493762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0abOOA2KDI/AAAAAAAAATY/UArO_RKM3Qs/s1600-h/March1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 336px; height: 252px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0abOOA2KDI/AAAAAAAAATY/UArO_RKM3Qs/s400/March1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424193469796460594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April was the beginning of the end of my school year, and my time in 2nd grade.  I was offered an opprotunity to move up to 3rd grade, which I took, glad for a new challenge and some change.  Jenna also came to visit for Easter weekend, which began what has seemed like an endless stream of people staying at our house, which we've enjoyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0abmdAMnaI/AAAAAAAAATo/TMcnKnglM6Q/s1600-h/April.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0abmdAMnaI/AAAAAAAAATo/TMcnKnglM6Q/s400/April.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424193886137130402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May, I turned the big 25, wrapped up a school year and began a blessed time of summer vacation!  I had Anna here for my 25th, and I enjoyed the simple pleasure of good friends and a fun night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0abuuVrp1I/AAAAAAAAATw/G5gqRO_rBWk/s1600-h/May1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0abuuVrp1I/AAAAAAAAATw/G5gqRO_rBWk/s400/May1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424194028229601106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went home towards the middle of June to see my family and send my parents off to Europe for 5 weeks.  Before they left I dragged them all to a Twins game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0ab27_1KMI/AAAAAAAAAT4/1VU9-3uKdAA/s1600-h/June.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0ab27_1KMI/AAAAAAAAAT4/1VU9-3uKdAA/s400/June.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424194169334999234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4333620032839758693?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4333620032839758693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4333620032839758693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4333620032839758693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4333620032839758693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2010/01/2009-year-in-review.html' title='2009 - A Year in Review'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/S0aaNueRbuI/AAAAAAAAAS4/_4pcVMa0yWg/s72-c/IMG_2368.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3637445326670666243</id><published>2009-11-17T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T07:27:27.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>URED 7725 Community Project</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="653" height="541" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-32a31e031855e6f5" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D32a31e031855e6f5%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331662748%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D374D40EADC0057233F3D708A64258C7E8AE7949C.83D063E48B6E4F96B13D0F78F07D12CC6F83CE27%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D32a31e031855e6f5%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D6mSTXkML1GnjyWu9X_WemklOYmg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="653" height="541" 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href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3637445326670666243' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3637445326670666243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3637445326670666243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/11/ured-7725-community-project.html' title='URED 7725 Community Project'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-979957665198730209</id><published>2009-11-08T14:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T14:33:01.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fransiscan Benediction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Our pastor left us with these words after church today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id109"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;May God bless you with discomfort&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id105"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;At easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id104"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;So that you may live deep within your heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id106"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id90"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id107"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;May God bless you with anger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id91"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id92"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;So that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id93"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id94"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id108"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;May God bless you with tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id95"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id96"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain to joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id97"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id98"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 130%;"&gt;And may God bless you with enough foolishness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id99"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;To believe that you can make a difference in the world,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id100"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;So that you can do what others claim cannot be done,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id101"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id102"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="ms__id103"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;Amen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-979957665198730209?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/979957665198730209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=979957665198730209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/979957665198730209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/979957665198730209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/11/fransiscan-benediction.html' title='Fransiscan Benediction'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-676235166146977025</id><published>2009-10-27T15:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T15:36:26.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Check it out!</title><content type='html'>Look at my photo &lt;a href="http://abispictureadventure.shutterfly.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just figuring it out, but I hope you enjoy it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-676235166146977025?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/676235166146977025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=676235166146977025' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/676235166146977025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/676235166146977025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/10/check-it-out.html' title='Check it out!'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3699259520066066213</id><published>2009-10-17T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T08:19:10.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The I Do's</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/StngZFQPriI/AAAAAAAAASs/h6HuDCUfV48/s1600-h/IMG_0946.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/StngZFQPriI/AAAAAAAAASs/h6HuDCUfV48/s400/IMG_0946.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393588750264544802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They did it!  It's done!  We have another Johnson in the family.  After a lot of preparation, anticipation and excitement Zach and Janlee were married last Saturday in a very beautiful ceremony.  It ended up indoors because of the snowy weather that morning, but was lovely nonetheless.  Congratulations to my brother and new sister!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3699259520066066213?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3699259520066066213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3699259520066066213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3699259520066066213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3699259520066066213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-dos.html' title='The I Do&apos;s'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/StngZFQPriI/AAAAAAAAASs/h6HuDCUfV48/s72-c/IMG_0946.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5641443509806580782</id><published>2009-08-31T06:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T06:17:39.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funnies</title><content type='html'>My students and I were standing in the hall after school waiting for parents and siblings to come, talking and laughing together.  One of my students was snapping his fingers together, and I couldn't figure out how he was doing it.  So he showed me, still I couldn't get it to make the sound.  One of my girls was there also and she looked at me and said "you have to make your finger lazy."  I guess that is probably the most literal way to explain what you need to do.  Even with my lazy finger, I still couldn't get it to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5641443509806580782?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5641443509806580782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5641443509806580782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5641443509806580782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5641443509806580782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/08/funnies.html' title='Funnies'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5282130239141418361</id><published>2009-08-23T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T07:47:01.426-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i'/><title type='text'>Control</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SpFVHPAY19I/AAAAAAAAASc/SuBOKeyILxE/s1600-h/post+secret.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SpFVHPAY19I/AAAAAAAAASc/SuBOKeyILxE/s400/post+secret.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373169413205317586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I have always hated change.  It throws me, it messes with my mind and it makes me kind of crazy.  Just ask Anna.  Poor thing, she survived two move-ins with me, and is still my friend.  Thanks Anna.  Or Vanessa.  She probably wanted to revoke her and Grant's invitation for me to move in with them.  Thanks Vanessa.  Or my parents, who sat with my in my new apartment after moving to Wichita and assured me I had made the right choice as the tears rolled down my face.  Thanks Momsy and Faja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am beginning to realize that my dislike of change is because I like to be in control.  Not that I have to boss everybody around and control every little detail of every little situation.  It's probably good that I can be aware of this, so that I can react in a better way to change.  I need to just let stuff go, and maybe my hatred of change is a way of me feeling a little more in control of situations that I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother is getting married.  I couldn't be happier for him, nor could I have picked a more perfect person for him to spend the rest of his life with.  I am very happy for them both.  Yet, when Jan's mom asked me last summer if this was hard for me, I teared up.  It's change, I can't control it.  My relationship with my brother is changing, as it should.  I can't control it.  He is going to be a husband, he is making his own family.  I can't control it.  If he weren't focusing his energy and time this, if our relationship didn't change that wouldn't be good.  He is doing what is right.  I miss the way things were.  But I am excited for the way things will be.  I just need to let go, and let it be, and accept that I don't have control and that's okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SpFWQjeoY8I/AAAAAAAAASk/VCpD3sKUImo/s1600-h/zlj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SpFWQjeoY8I/AAAAAAAAASk/VCpD3sKUImo/s400/zlj.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373170672831325122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5282130239141418361?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5282130239141418361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5282130239141418361' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5282130239141418361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5282130239141418361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/08/control.html' title='Control'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SpFVHPAY19I/AAAAAAAAASc/SuBOKeyILxE/s72-c/post+secret.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8370917789033812089</id><published>2009-07-26T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T20:28:33.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summertime Joys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sm0e1anaQAI/AAAAAAAAASU/hDHc-7MbzLY/s1600-h/Summer+2009+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sm0e1anaQAI/AAAAAAAAASU/hDHc-7MbzLY/s400/Summer+2009+055.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362976634294648834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; I am thankful that I have summers off.  Here's a little of what I've been up to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sm0PhecKLPI/AAAAAAAAAR0/lIq-d_kSLlM/s1600-h/Summer+2009+088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sm0PhecKLPI/AAAAAAAAAR0/lIq-d_kSLlM/s400/Summer+2009+088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362959799049399538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sm0Pyni8koI/AAAAAAAAAR8/bG_j94HFfcI/s1600-h/Summer+2009+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sm0Pyni8koI/AAAAAAAAAR8/bG_j94HFfcI/s400/Summer+2009+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362960093551563394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sm0QA1ThcYI/AAAAAAAAASE/b-bkWv0Z95w/s1600-h/Summer+2009+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sm0QA1ThcYI/AAAAAAAAASE/b-bkWv0Z95w/s400/Summer+2009+031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362960337763135874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8370917789033812089?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8370917789033812089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8370917789033812089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8370917789033812089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8370917789033812089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/summertime-joys.html' title='Summertime Joys'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sm0e1anaQAI/AAAAAAAAASU/hDHc-7MbzLY/s72-c/Summer+2009+055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2625539586657622038</id><published>2009-06-06T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T09:22:47.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wooing Victoria</title><content type='html'>Vanessa and I met a man last night named Alan.  He was getting off the shuttle bus downtown, and it was parked behind us so we waited frustrated that we couldn't move while all the people got off.  He must have sensed our frustrations so he came over to chat.  We learned that Alan is in his 30's, divorced after being married for 12 years, two kids and that he is going to be in a fundraiser auctioning off dates with eligible Wichita bachelors next week.  Alan is not looking to find the woman of his dreams in the auction, he has already found her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told us that he started dating Victoria two years ago, right after his divorce.  Unfortunatly, with all that a divorce entails, he needed some time to figure out his life and so he and Victoria ended things.  In the time since their relationship ended he has figured out that she is the one, and he began writing her love letters, he said he had written over 80 of them.  Alan delivered his box of letters to Victoria last week, along with a ticket to a theater production later this week.  He told us that he will be in the seat next to the one on her ticket, hoping she shows up.  It's the big last hurrah, and he said that if this doesn't work out, then he'll be able to move on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a man woo you, every girl's dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good luck Alan, go get your girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2625539586657622038?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2625539586657622038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2625539586657622038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2625539586657622038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2625539586657622038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/06/wooing-victoria.html' title='Wooing Victoria'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-303776736476488992</id><published>2009-05-25T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T08:49:01.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Backpack</title><content type='html'>I was cleaning out my closet for a garage sale and I came across a backpack.  It is kind of bluish purple, periwinkle some would say, and there is a makeup stain on the outside pocket where Sarah Purlee, my freshman roommate dropped some Clinique foundation.  Despite my efforts, it never did come completely out.  I had filled this backpack with books for class, papers, notes, snacks, water, pens, pencils and probably 100 tubes of chapstick throughout my college career, but since then have not had a need for it.  So it sat.  It sat in my apartment, got loaded full of stuff for the move, and has been sitting in my closet ever since.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pulled it out for the garage sale, thinking that I could make a few bucks if I sold it.  After all, it is a Jansport, they last forever.  Then I remembered one of my students, who has been carrying his books to school in a rolling suitcase.  Granted, it is a small one, but still inconvenient and not at all as functional as a backpack.  I decided to take my backpack to school for him.  I, after all, don't need it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I called him over to my desk at the beginning of the day to give him the backpack he seemed subdued.  What was I expecting?  Fireworks?  A parade in my honor because of my amazing demonstration of gratitude and personal sacrifice?  Maybe.  But instead I got a smile, a thank you and it was done.  I looked at him as he walked out of class that day, backpack on his back, superhero suitcase in his hand, and hoped that if nothing else he will one day pay it forward.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day when I was out in the hallway taking down student work, I saw my now former backpack hanging on his hook.  I smiled to myself and wondered what kind of treasures he had filled it with. I unzipped the outside pocket to find his take home reading book, and inside he had his folder and homework.  I guess what else would a 2nd grader need to haul in his backpack?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-303776736476488992?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/303776736476488992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=303776736476488992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/303776736476488992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/303776736476488992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/05/backpack.html' title='The Backpack'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8798288279516040900</id><published>2009-05-07T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T14:07:22.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts on Mom</title><content type='html'>Here's what my 2nd graders wrote in their Mother's Day cards. I think they are so sweet, and truly from a child's perspective. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deer mom I love you. Your the best mom in the hole wid world. Becasue your spechl to me And you help me with every thing. And you give me food. And wash the dishes. Love, C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom you are the best cooking at the cishin you are a nies to me you clen my room and your room. You are a clean house. Love, N.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dea Mom, I love you. You'r spacial to me. thank you for taking car of me. Don't forget that I love you. Love, C. (&lt;em&gt;She also wrote hers in Spanish, which really impressed me!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom. You are a nice mom. You are fun. Love, D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lov mui mom. Love, R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deer Mom I love you mom. Love, D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo de cedo. i love you. do me ases acome. you make food for me. Love, O.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom, You are nice to me. Think you for cooking us food mom. When you are nice to me, my filling don't hrt. Form, A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Mom. Mom I love you and you are the Bist mom in the wo wrot and I love you and have a Happy Mother's Day. Love E to Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear, Mom. Thanks for being nice to me. Thanks for cooking. Love, M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear, Mom. Happy Mothers Day! Also you are speical! Love, R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Derd Mom. Tocku for ben a nist mom. Tocku for ben the bist coock in the house. You are the bist mom cust you givus the tening we want. Live, E.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom. I love you for being my mom. I love you for being my mom. I made suthing for you. And a card. And suthing. It has colas. Love, K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom, I love you so much becus you clen my room.  And I love you becuse you wahs my cloths.  Love you!  Your daorther, C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom, Thak you for all the thing you do for me.  I'm glad I em your boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom, You're the best mom.  You cook good think you that.  Love, A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom,  Youa re the best mom.  You are beatiful.  I love you!  Love, L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom,  I love you.  You are the best mom ever bend in my flamree.  Mom you roke.  I love my mom.  Love, D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hop you have a very happy Mother's Day.  You are the dest mom in the wrold.  Love J.  To Griselda.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8798288279516040900?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8798288279516040900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8798288279516040900' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8798288279516040900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8798288279516040900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/05/thoughts-on-mom.html' title='Thoughts on Mom'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8994550212074900825</id><published>2009-05-04T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T19:59:46.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can Feel It</title><content type='html'>I can feel it, it's looming around the corner.  Change.  I hate it.  Life, unfortunately...and fortunately I guess, is full of it.  School is ending, summer is coming.  Change.  I can feel the anxiousness coming on, I feel nervy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8994550212074900825?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8994550212074900825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8994550212074900825' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8994550212074900825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8994550212074900825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-can-feel-it.html' title='I Can Feel It'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2252281192623498784</id><published>2009-05-01T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T18:55:27.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pray</title><content type='html'>Please helpe me lift up Esther, my dear friend and co-worker, and her family.  Her father in law is currently in Kansas City at KU Medical Center undergoing tests on his kidneys.  The doctors here said there is about a 95% chance that the growths they found are malignant.  It is hard to see a friend going through such a tough and challenging situation, and sometimes even harder because all I can do to fix it is to pray.  Ironic how that sounds "all I can do".  It is sometimes the only thing to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2252281192623498784?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2252281192623498784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2252281192623498784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2252281192623498784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2252281192623498784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/05/pray.html' title='Pray'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1356053266576136314</id><published>2009-04-29T15:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T15:41:07.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Children Are Mirrors</title><content type='html'>I saw racism today, not in a raw or violent way.  The racism I saw was more disappointing, more saddening than a violent crime.  I saw racism in a 7 year old child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was not aimed at any student in my class, and it was said by someone that The United States would label as a minority.  It disappointed me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The comment made was about a picture of an Asian person in one of our vocabulary PowerPoint, which I made.  When making them last year, I intentionally incorporated pictures of people from all cultures and races, specifically because I thought that my students being primarily of minority groups, needed to see their faces reflected in the pictures they see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that I don't fully get it, being a white woman, and I probably never will.  I will never be judged based on what color my skin is, or my appearance.  My students more than likely will be, if they have not already.  I was so greatly saddened by today's events, it disappointed so much because I thought they would get it.  Or I think they should.  I don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my long lecture to my two students, I tried to explain to them what racism was and why their comments and jokes were not okay.  I talked about how some people call others "dirty Mexicans", and how that made me angry and how this was the same kind of thing.  I talked about how 50 years ago, kids with different colored skin couldn't go to school with kids who had white skin.  Their faces were so serious, I hope they understood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know these kids didn't think up thier jokes, they heard them from someone at home.  Children are the best mirrors.  If you ever want a reality check, hang out with some kids for a while and they'll mimic every quaility you don't want mimiced.  They pick up on the smallest things so remember to watch what you say and do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1356053266576136314?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1356053266576136314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1356053266576136314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1356053266576136314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1356053266576136314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/04/children-are-mirrors.html' title='Children Are Mirrors'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8894654712192505582</id><published>2009-04-11T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T23:13:31.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funeral Playlist</title><content type='html'>1) Catch My Disease - Ben Lee&lt;br /&gt;2) All Creatures of our God and Kind - David Crowder&lt;br /&gt;3) Far Away - Ingrid Michaelson&lt;br /&gt;4) Spirit in the Sky - Norman Greenbaum&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8894654712192505582?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8894654712192505582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8894654712192505582' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8894654712192505582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8894654712192505582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/04/funeral-playlist.html' title='Funeral Playlist'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5617959698614216140</id><published>2009-04-08T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T21:30:11.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do You Have a Sword?</title><content type='html'>A student had a birthday this week.  His mom brought in a 9 inch circular cake (which I had the pleasure of cutting into 23 pieces).  After talking to her in Spanish for a minute or two, he walked over to me and proceeded to ask:  "My mom wants to know if you have a sword to cut the cake."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, there are no words to respond to what comes out of my students' mouths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sd15nZT9mfI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/NyeS1VH_NJw/s1600-h/6154024-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sd15nZT9mfI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/NyeS1VH_NJw/s320/6154024-lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322544052338268658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5617959698614216140?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5617959698614216140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5617959698614216140' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5617959698614216140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5617959698614216140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/04/do-you-have-sword.html' title='Do You Have a Sword?'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Sd15nZT9mfI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/NyeS1VH_NJw/s72-c/6154024-lg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-6785608817579984749</id><published>2009-04-06T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T07:18:32.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Schedules</title><content type='html'>Schedules make my head hurt. I'm at work - planning out my week and getting reading for today.  Here's how my calendar looks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday - obedience classes with Truman&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - ESOL classes after school&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - 8:00 team meeting, IEP meeting after school&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - IEP meeting after school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am already tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-6785608817579984749?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6785608817579984749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=6785608817579984749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6785608817579984749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6785608817579984749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/04/schedules.html' title='Schedules'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5754691111935890226</id><published>2009-04-04T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T21:29:38.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Belong Together</title><content type='html'>I've been living with Grant and Vanessa for about 2 1/2 months now.  In a way, we've settled into a groove with our non-traditional living situation.  My students have been the least phased by the changes; they know Vanessa because she worked at Cloud last year.  They either might have a distant relative, cousin or friend living with them, or they know someone who does.  Also, Vanessa and my coworkers have gotten over the initial questions about our living arrangement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday we were bowling (very poorly I might add) for kids, and so I got to meet a lot of Vanessa's coworkers as well as their families and friends.  Vanessa was introducing Grant and I to a friend of a coworker, and it went something like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is my husband Grant, and this is our roommate Abi."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puzzled look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah," I said, "We belong together."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was semi-joking, but aside from my own family, and families I've nannied for, Grant and Vanessa and Luke and Laurel are the closest thing to my actual family.  Laurel and I have fought like sisters, Grant is like another brother, and Vanessa and I give back rubs and watch trashy TV.  These are people that I am completely myself around.  They see my beadhead in the morning and they've seen me cry.  They love my dog.  There is something amazing that happens when people's lives are intentionally intertwined with one another.  I only hope that where ever I end up going in the future, that I will always have people with which I can create a community.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5754691111935890226?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5754691111935890226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5754691111935890226' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5754691111935890226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5754691111935890226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/04/we-belong-together.html' title='We Belong Together'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1744809933254237897</id><published>2009-04-02T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T21:19:39.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Patchwork of Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I rest in God's truths.  He has plans for each of us, that we have a purpose and that there is a plan for our lives.  Although I may not see it today, tomorrow or even months from now, God's truths remain constant.  His plan for my life is great, greater than I could ever imagine.  Does my finite nature then limit my view of what God can do in and with my life?  Do I, by default of my limited view, become my own roadblock?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plans for us to prosper, far away from harm.  Great are you God.  Plans for us a hope and a future in your arms, you'll be found by us when we seek you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Show me what this season in my life is for.  I have been trying to seek you, show my what this season in my life is for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Emerson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1744809933254237897?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1744809933254237897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1744809933254237897' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1744809933254237897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1744809933254237897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/04/patchwork-of-thoughts.html' title='A Patchwork of Thoughts'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-6086777532435561117</id><published>2009-03-26T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T06:45:10.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bowl For Kids' Sake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/ScuG2J3K3jI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/z4cxf_Ry92c/s1600-h/UR59AXjr0dhfz7pyKeb4cFQt_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/ScuG2J3K3jI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/z4cxf_Ry92c/s320/UR59AXjr0dhfz7pyKeb4cFQt_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317492049959378482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Vanessa works for Big Brothers Big Sisters of Kansas, and we are all participating in a fundraiser on April 3rd called Bowl For Kids' Sake.  I am in need of your pledges!  You can make a flat pledge, or a per pin pledge.  My goal is to raise $25o, so if you can help me raise money for this great organization thanks in advance!   My link is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a id="ctl00_ContentPlaceHolder3_hlPageUrl" href="http://www.kansasbigs.org/bfks/bowlerview.aspx?id=johabi"&gt;http://www.kansasbigs.org/bfks/bowlerview.aspx?id=johabi&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-6086777532435561117?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6086777532435561117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=6086777532435561117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6086777532435561117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6086777532435561117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/03/bowl-for-kids-sake.html' title='Bowl For Kids&apos; Sake'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/ScuG2J3K3jI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/z4cxf_Ry92c/s72-c/UR59AXjr0dhfz7pyKeb4cFQt_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-6144334553869568264</id><published>2009-03-25T20:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T20:26:53.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacay!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Scr13NarXsI/AAAAAAAAAQs/xDu6ZbHVjbE/s1600-h/Winter+2008-2009+380.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Scr13NarXsI/AAAAAAAAAQs/xDu6ZbHVjbE/s400/Winter+2008-2009+380.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317332638907457218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Vacations bring much needed peace, sleep and just time to check out.  I really liked being able to spend time with Christi, Anna and Janlee.  Glorious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Scr1im6jE0I/AAAAAAAAAQk/bgmaQ3K0y5Y/s1600-h/Winter+2008-2009+326.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Scr1im6jE0I/AAAAAAAAAQk/bgmaQ3K0y5Y/s400/Winter+2008-2009+326.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317332284974764866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-6144334553869568264?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6144334553869568264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=6144334553869568264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6144334553869568264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6144334553869568264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/03/vacay.html' title='Vacay!'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/Scr13NarXsI/AAAAAAAAAQs/xDu6ZbHVjbE/s72-c/Winter+2008-2009+380.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8793340767900639987</id><published>2009-03-07T19:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T19:18:10.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Looking For You</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SbM21Jg0NjI/AAAAAAAAAQc/-kmUWuytbo8/s1600-h/Summer+Randoms+058.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SbM21Jg0NjI/AAAAAAAAAQc/-kmUWuytbo8/s400/Summer+Randoms+058.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310648672314471986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Abi?  It's Mary.  A mom is out here, and she is not happy with you and she's looking for you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the phone call I got on Wednesday, from a teacher on the playground, during my lunch.  After being home for a day and a half with the flu, I came back to work, and was greeted with insanity; basically a 2nd grade classroom after a sub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make a long story short, there was an issue of honesty, no one would tell the truth, so they all lost some of their recess.  When a parent came to school to fill out some paperwork, she saw my entire class standing against the fence, and she was not happy with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me, on the other hand, was in mid-chew, enjoying my mostly bland (applesauce, water, crackers) post-flu lunch.  Hmm, what to do?  Should I hide out in Sue's room?  She'll never find me here.  Or...should I go and find the parent, be proactive and try to resolve the situation before it becomes me and the parent and an administrator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opted for the latter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking into the office, I spotted her.  Thankfully she speaks English.  She was talking to the secretary, pointing her finger and looking clearly not happy...with me.  I walked up to her, put on my best "I am really happy you are here" face, tapped her on the arm and said "I heard you were looking for me!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stepped out into the hall, she told me her frusteration, I told her I was sorry that this happened.  I told her my side.  She told me she was sorry for getting frustrated.  As it is with most issues, listening solved anything that was an issue.  I didn't change my mind or back down from my decision of disciplining my students, and she felt better because someone listened.  Our conversation ended with an apology from her and both of us agreeing it was time for a vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring Break is 4 school days away.  I think we'll both make it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8793340767900639987?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8793340767900639987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8793340767900639987' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8793340767900639987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8793340767900639987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/03/shes-looking-for-you.html' title='She&apos;s Looking For You'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SbM21Jg0NjI/AAAAAAAAAQc/-kmUWuytbo8/s72-c/Summer+Randoms+058.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-939102362124318987</id><published>2009-02-26T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T17:49:51.695-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ponderments</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SadGqivKZ3I/AAAAAAAAAQM/Eaj75rK-iqA/s1600-h/Summer+Randoms+119.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SadGqivKZ3I/AAAAAAAAAQM/Eaj75rK-iqA/s320/Summer+Randoms+119.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307288382572488562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been trying to think of a blog post, and I have actually had lots of ideas lately.  I guess there is just a lot going on in my head.  They've ended up being all compiled into one pretty random blog post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driving home from work a few days ago and I saw a new gang tag of a building.  For those of you who don't know, a tag is when a gang graffitis their number, name or something on a building in their area.  I didn't think anything of it, and I wondered to myself if I am getting numb to it, or if it just doesn't worry me as much as it used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen the same man sitting on a lamp post twice when driving home from work.  I guess I must do my best thinking then.  I worry about who he is, where he's going, and if he has enough to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of people disappointing me.  In the little and the big stuff.  I feel like I should just expect disappointment, and I think that means I am becoming jaded.  I don't want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worry about getting married one day.  Two people close to me are experiencing, in different ways, the pain that infidelity brings.  It breaks my heart for them, on so many levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart also breaks for a little girl at my school, who no matter the outcome of recent events, is a victim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am on the verge of giving up on one of my students, as I was telling Vanessa tonight.  It's been seven months, and I have seen little progress from him.  After working with him today I was incredibly discouraged, and I don't know where to go or what else to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admire Vanessa, her strength.  I have watched her this week and been amazed at her enduring strength; she is one of the strongest people I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admire Grant as well, his unconditional love for his wife.  He impresses me.  His patience and love are evident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful that I have friends who have let me into their home, and thus also into their lives.  The opportunity that we all have to be incredibly real with one another is amazing, and overwhelming at time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am excited for spring, a new beginning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-939102362124318987?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/939102362124318987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=939102362124318987' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/939102362124318987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/939102362124318987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/ponderments.html' title='Ponderments'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SadGqivKZ3I/AAAAAAAAAQM/Eaj75rK-iqA/s72-c/Summer+Randoms+119.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-7414368166373865390</id><published>2009-02-22T20:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T20:21:41.961-08:00</updated><title type='text'>25 Random Things</title><content type='html'>1.  I have an extra vertebrae named Louie.  Sometimes he likes to scream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I love my siblings, my whole family in fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I am legally blind in one eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I have a fear of settling in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I never went to 6th grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Shoes are my weakness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I strongly believe that coffee belongs with cream and sugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  I wish I got more sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  I miss the snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  I love the ocean and the mountains, yet somehow have found myself living in between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.  I enjoy cooking, for people and with people, and then lingering over a good meal with great conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Kaylee, Esther, Mary, Sue and Kathy helped me survive my first year of teaching, and continually keep me sane and grounded at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.  Most of my great memories involve Anna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.  I am so thankful that I didn't marry Ben.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.  My favorite sandwich is a BLT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.  I have no problem eating by myself at a restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.  I am learning to be more patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.  I try to take pictures and be creative.  It's a work in progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.  I love Top Chef.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.  My parents are wise, I am thankful for their insight and support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21.  I worked at a cheese store for 3 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.  Truman wakes me up really early everyday, but I can't be annoyed with him for long, because he is so lovey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23.  My biggest hope is to someday be a mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.  I blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. I love getting to experience the world through the eyes of 2nd graders. It brings newness to each, otherwise monotonous day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-7414368166373865390?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7414368166373865390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=7414368166373865390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/7414368166373865390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/7414368166373865390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/25-random-things.html' title='25 Random Things'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2606243860070033256</id><published>2009-02-05T10:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T10:11:50.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hippie Moments</title><content type='html'>The outside of my door right now is a giant heart, with our names in hearts all around, and in the middle of the heart are the words "One Love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now we're listening to Bob Marley and making posters of ways to help the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippie moments for hippies in the making.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2606243860070033256?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2606243860070033256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2606243860070033256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2606243860070033256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2606243860070033256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/hippie-moments.html' title='Hippie Moments'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4534337398056660116</id><published>2009-02-03T20:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T20:37:36.149-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kansas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SYkbhKPDMEI/AAAAAAAAAQA/XdizA0VJb2Y/s1600-h/Winter+2008-2009+176.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SYkbhKPDMEI/AAAAAAAAAQA/XdizA0VJb2Y/s400/Winter+2008-2009+176.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298796693075210306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I don't always think Kansas is the most beautiful state.  But on days like we had this weekend - seventy degrees in January! - it is a nice place to be.  I really like the colors in this picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4534337398056660116?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4534337398056660116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4534337398056660116' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4534337398056660116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4534337398056660116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/kansas.html' title='Kansas'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SYkbhKPDMEI/AAAAAAAAAQA/XdizA0VJb2Y/s72-c/Winter+2008-2009+176.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1063550344524742304</id><published>2009-02-01T07:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T07:25:31.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Truman and Dakota</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SYW-5R9FuJI/AAAAAAAAAP4/RI3HT-LSw44/s1600-h/Trums+and+Dak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SYW-5R9FuJI/AAAAAAAAAP4/RI3HT-LSw44/s400/Trums+and+Dak.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297850427952707730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truman and I moved a week ago, and now Truman has a friend.  Dakota, a red lab, is almost 4 years his senior, and is overwhelmed at times by his puppy exuberance.  I have to smile because every morning, he gallops up the stairs to go see if Dakota is up yet, and looks so disappointed when she isn't.  Truman steals her toys, bites her ears and always wants her to play.  Dakota can outrun Truman in the backyard, and is starting to fight back when he bullies her into giving up her toys.  Sometimes, we catch them in lovey moments, sitting together, playing nicely or being snugglies.  Even though they don't always know it, Truman and Dakota love each other a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1063550344524742304?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1063550344524742304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1063550344524742304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1063550344524742304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1063550344524742304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/truman-and-dakota.html' title='Truman and Dakota'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SYW-5R9FuJI/AAAAAAAAAP4/RI3HT-LSw44/s72-c/Trums+and+Dak.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1881822705972928679</id><published>2009-01-26T16:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T17:11:58.415-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For Special Ed Teachers Everywhere...</title><content type='html'>...with Tiffany (my parent's friend who is a loyal reader of my blog) in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rotary has a program called "Reading Is Fun" or RIF.  We have the RIF readers come out a few times a year to read to our kids and then each child gets a book that the Rotary donated.  Two weeks ago we had a RIF day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday, we wrote thank you notes to our Rotary Reader.  One of my precious special ed. children wrote the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dear Mr. C,&lt;br /&gt;           Thank you for the boob."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had tears in my eyes I was laughing so hard, and I didn't have the heart to tell him.  He realized the error of his ways a few minutes later, and fixed the mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teaching second graders always has a few laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I moved this past weekend!  No more apartment living!  I am living with some friends, Grant and Vanessa, you know them I'm sure, and being in a house with people is a nice change from being in an apartment with no people.  Truman has a dog friend Dakota, and a cat who hates him, Nora, to play with, and a fenced in backyard to romp in. On a cold, but sunny Saturday, I had 5 awesome friends carry, pack, and unload my belongings, and now I need to only go back and clean the apartment and another chapter in my life has been written.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lastly, a special shout out to Tiff, my parent's friend from church, who reads my blog, and is keeping me accountable!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1881822705972928679?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1881822705972928679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1881822705972928679' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1881822705972928679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1881822705972928679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/01/for-special-ed-teachers-everywhere.html' title='For Special Ed Teachers Everywhere...'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-6417084097077328486</id><published>2009-01-14T17:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T17:52:57.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like That One Teacher</title><content type='html'>I have a student who comes to me for part of the day - the special education teacher and I team during that time, and he's receiving services.  This student has a sister.  She is in first grade. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After school today, one of the paras came in and needed to talk to me.  She said that she had gone into a first grade room, and there was this little girl with a sticker on the side of her nose.  Now you know that I got my nose pierced about 3 months ago, and she apparently noticed this.  When the para asked her why she did that, she responded "I'm like that one teacher!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that makes me wonder, what else do these perceptive little minds pick up on, and who's watching you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-6417084097077328486?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6417084097077328486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=6417084097077328486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6417084097077328486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6417084097077328486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/01/like-that-one-teacher.html' title='Like That One Teacher'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-9054978377687998686</id><published>2009-01-02T21:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T21:14:20.117-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For Julie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; And if the darkness is to keep us apart&lt;br /&gt;And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off&lt;br /&gt;And if your glass heart should crack&lt;br /&gt;And for a second you turn back&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, be strong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walk on, walk on&lt;br /&gt;What you got, they can't steal it&lt;br /&gt;No they can't even feel it&lt;br /&gt;Walk on, walk on&lt;br /&gt;Stay safe tonight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been&lt;br /&gt;A place that has to be believed to be seen&lt;br /&gt;You could have flown away&lt;br /&gt;A singing bird in an open cage&lt;br /&gt;Who will only fly, only fly for freedom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walk on, walk on&lt;br /&gt;What you got they can't deny it&lt;br /&gt;Can't sell it or buy it&lt;br /&gt;Walk on, walk on&lt;br /&gt;Stay safe tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know it aches&lt;br /&gt;And your heart it breaks&lt;br /&gt;And you can only take so much&lt;br /&gt;Walk on, walk on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home...hard to know what it is if you never had one&lt;br /&gt;Home...I can't say where it is but I know I'm going home&lt;br /&gt;That's where the heart is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it aches&lt;br /&gt;How your heart it breaks&lt;br /&gt;And you can only take so much&lt;br /&gt;Walk on, walk on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Walk On by U2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-9054978377687998686?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/9054978377687998686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=9054978377687998686' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/9054978377687998686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/9054978377687998686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2009/01/for-julie.html' title='For Julie'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3596244071707455783</id><published>2008-12-30T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T21:19:48.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Here, I'm Here!</title><content type='html'>I know, I know...I have made a shocking return to blogland!  Don't worry, I haven't gone anywhere, just neglected my bloginating duties recently, for like the last month.  So, to quickly catch you up, here are the top 10 things I did while on my unintentional blogging sabbatical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Survived a harrowing drive through Iowa and Minnesota to come home to my parent's for Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  Made venison sausage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  Had a Christmas miracle when my car heater started working again after giving me a scare!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  Pierced my nose.  Well I didn't do my own, some tattooed pierced guy at a tattoo shop pierced it.  I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Drank lots and lots of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Went to Conover for Thanksgiving and met Janlee, whom I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Survived the week before Christmas break festivities with 19 7 year olds and a speed eating contest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Got a cordless drill for Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Began packing for my move in January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Got a dog named Truman.  He's not a democrat though, I'd say he's more of an independent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogworld...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'M BACK!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3596244071707455783?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3596244071707455783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3596244071707455783' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3596244071707455783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3596244071707455783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-here-im-here.html' title='I&apos;m Here, I&apos;m Here!'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2681964900478949178</id><published>2008-11-11T09:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T09:18:57.671-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Grandpa.Uncle Richard.Uncle Bob.Uncle Jack.Uncle Duane.Luke.Laurel.Andy.Ramsey.Bill.Uncle Milton.Tommy.John.Sean.Random man who lives upstairs.Pastor Jack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Take a minute and thank a veteran today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2681964900478949178?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2681964900478949178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2681964900478949178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2681964900478949178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2681964900478949178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/thank-you.html' title='Thank You.'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2239565023344261092</id><published>2008-11-10T18:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T18:16:32.535-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chester's Letter</title><content type='html'>I got this email from Chester the Turkey.  My response will follow tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Name Giver,&lt;br /&gt;This is one of the happiest days of my existence.  I was released outof my isolated spot in the closet and allowed a "front-and-center" spot on the floor where I wish I could be forever.  Oh, I know that I am part of a tradition, but I still dream of that day when I am set free.  I needed to let you know since you are responsible for my best name ever.  Thank you for that name - it was a long time ago that you did that for me.  I hope to see you soon - very soon.  Be sure to say hello to me when you come to my place of habitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS    I allowed someone else to write this for me - my "fingers" don't do well on the keyboard.  I think she is the one who ties me up every year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2239565023344261092?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2239565023344261092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2239565023344261092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2239565023344261092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2239565023344261092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/chesters-letter.html' title='Chester&apos;s Letter'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1486743466315197758</id><published>2008-11-09T14:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T14:12:42.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>99 Balloons</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/th6Njr-qkq0' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/th6Njr-qkq0'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1486743466315197758?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1486743466315197758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1486743466315197758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1486743466315197758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1486743466315197758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/99-balloons.html' title='99 Balloons'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4835463202208338194</id><published>2008-11-09T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T14:10:08.017-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Actually Sir...</title><content type='html'>I went to my first bigger Compassion event.  I don't know if you all know, but I am now a child advocate for &lt;a href="http://www.compassion.com/default.htm"&gt;Compassion International&lt;/a&gt;.  I have felt a strong pull on my heart to be involved in some kind of ministry involving children, and I didn't really want to volunteer at Awana or something like it, because I teach all day long, and that would be too much time with kids.  I'd probably end up running around with  my hands over my ears.  So when God brought this opportunity to me, it seemed like a great fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a youth pastor's conference, along with Naomi, another child advocate here in Wichita.  We drove up to Salina Kansas, and proceeded to spend the next day manning our table and talking with people about what Compassion does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the speakers was a professor at the Southern Baptist seminary in Fort Worth Texas.  During one of the breaks, he came up and briefly looked at our table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He picked up one of the child packets and the set it down.  "That girl is the same age as my granddaughter," he commented.  "How sad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without blinking an eye he walked away.  As Esther says, I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, because what I really wanted to say was this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Actually sir, it's not sad.  What is sad is that you walk around here with your name brand clothes, your blackberry visibly clipped to your overpriced belt that's holding up your pants over your ample stomach, and yet you turn away and do nothing.  This child is not sad, she is in a project that will help her develop in more ways than one, and she is waiting a sponsor.  The sad thing, sir, is not this child.  It is the fact that overfed, overclothed and overindulgent Christian Americans, like yourself, would rather spend more money on coffee or dining out, than on making a difference in the life of a child. You sir are what's sad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't.  As much as I take after my father, I am learning when to get on my soapbox and when not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naomi commented on the drive back that it was very hard not to judge those people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4835463202208338194?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4835463202208338194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4835463202208338194' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4835463202208338194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4835463202208338194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/actually-sir.html' title='Actually Sir...'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4211959719793399199</id><published>2008-11-03T20:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T20:20:17.391-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If you vote, Starbucks buys your coffee</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/a2J8KJDsqqY' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/a2J8KJDsqqY'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Go Vote.  And then get some coffee and enjoy the day fully caffeinated.  Whatever the outcome, whether your candidates and issues win or not, God is still in control.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4211959719793399199?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4211959719793399199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4211959719793399199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4211959719793399199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4211959719793399199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/if-you-vote-starbucks-buys-your-coffee.html' title='If you vote, Starbucks buys your coffee'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-7907040520835506777</id><published>2008-10-19T10:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T11:05:52.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Politic-ing</title><content type='html'>I am not vocal about my political opinions.  However, this year, I am being pretty outspoken about the Bond Issue that Wichita Public Schools desperately needs to pass.  I even hung up a sign, the first outspoken expression of my political views.  There are many people opposing the Bond here in Wichita, and I understand their reasoning for the opposition.  But please, just for a second look at it from my point of view.  I work at a school with 818 kids as of Friday.  Added to that, over 100 staff, parent volunteers etc, and on any given day we're pushing 1000.  In a school built for 600.  We are incredibly overcrowded, and this bond issue will help that.  But the opposition is critical of the swimming pools and tennis courts, and the technology funding in this bond issue...but don't our kids deserve schools with great athletic facilities and up to date technology?  I think yes.  So, I am saying, vote Yes for Kids.  And yes, I can promise you that your taxes will go up, but not so significantly that you will have to alter your lifestyle.  So when you Wichita voters go to the polls, think critically about your vote on this issue, and ask yourself this question: do these kids deserve an excellent education in excellent and safe facilities with excellent teachers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-7907040520835506777?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7907040520835506777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=7907040520835506777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/7907040520835506777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/7907040520835506777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/10/politic-ing.html' title='Politic-ing'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3737050535564401412</id><published>2008-10-17T11:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T11:35:57.387-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is God?</title><content type='html'>I'd have to agree with Bono.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house. God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives. God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war. God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3737050535564401412?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3737050535564401412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3737050535564401412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3737050535564401412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3737050535564401412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/10/where-is-god.html' title='Where is God?'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1020261552869973939</id><published>2008-10-12T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T18:00:50.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Downsizing</title><content type='html'>Vanessa, Laurel and I had a garage sale this weekend.  I had 3 big tubs of stuff that I sorted out and decided I didn't need.  It felt so good to get rid of some of the excess that we, as Americans, tend to have.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last weekend, while I lounged by the pool in Dallas with Jenna I was reading through Real Simple and they had an article on recycling and donating used goods.  They listed these two places to donate &lt;a href="http://www.uniteforsight.org/what-we-do"&gt;glasses&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.soles4souls.org/donate/"&gt;shoes&lt;/a&gt;.  We have so much stuff in our lives, it so often clouds what we really need to be focusing on.  Many of the things that I purged were things in perfectly good condition, but that I just don't use anymore for whatever reason.  Maybe I wanted a newer lamp, or the shirt shrunk in the wash, or I wanted new shoes.  Whatever the reason behind it, I am living in excess.  So, maybe the challenge should be not only to purge some of the excess and pass them along to people who have genuine need, but also to really think about and consider the things that we buy so that we aren't constantly living in excess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1020261552869973939?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1020261552869973939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1020261552869973939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1020261552869973939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1020261552869973939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/10/downsizing.html' title='Downsizing'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-6817820668638748255</id><published>2008-10-10T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T14:56:10.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let The Baby Boom Begin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SO_PdDpT4wI/AAAAAAAAAPo/tDDIfZXHChc/s1600-h/Lila.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SO_PdDpT4wI/AAAAAAAAAPo/tDDIfZXHChc/s320/Lila.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255647388266390274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Kaylee and Dusty started the baby boom (in my friend circle that is) when they welcomed Lila Jane into the world on October 1st.  Congratulations  you guys, she's a keeper!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-6817820668638748255?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6817820668638748255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=6817820668638748255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6817820668638748255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6817820668638748255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/10/let-baby-boom-begin.html' title='Let The Baby Boom Begin'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SO_PdDpT4wI/AAAAAAAAAPo/tDDIfZXHChc/s72-c/Lila.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5956211912901125036</id><published>2008-09-29T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T17:55:09.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sight</title><content type='html'>They sat across from me.  He had a big belly, his shirt was stained and dirty and stretched across it.  Her hands bore the evidence of hard work, callouses and chipped nails.  Between them sat my student, a huge grin on his face, typical.  To my right, our translator, my lifeline to the parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conference went normally, questions were answered; I had some concerns about academics I said, they agreed.  Towards the end I knew there was something I was forgetting, but I couldn't remember what.  Oh, right, his glasses.  I knew he wore them last year, and he's had an eye test twice this year and failed...were they planning on getting him some?  Did they get the phone call from the secretary?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They ordered them, they were in, but they couldn't afford to pick them up.  He had his health card up until last year and no longer qualifies.  I learn that his middle school sister also needs them, one of her eyes goes off this way they say, pointing.  A lazy eye.  I ask where they went, and they show me the information.  Hmm, I say, that's the same clinic I go to.  I know they are expensive, I don't even buy my glasses there.  I have a sinking feeling that they didn't understand because of the language barrier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you mind if I call them I ask.  Can I take the doctors information?  Would you they say...thank you.  I promise to call the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SOF4shhyqII/AAAAAAAAAPg/VQwqRHpE1bI/s1600-h/Fall+2008+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SOF4shhyqII/AAAAAAAAAPg/VQwqRHpE1bI/s320/Fall+2008+043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251611346800388226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call the next day and leave a message for the doctor.  She calls back.  I explain who I am and the situation.  Can they afford $100 each she asks.  Honestly, no I say.  They are genuinely poor  I can tell.  They aren't just "using the system".  What about $30 a pair she asks.  I think they could do that I say, thanking her.  Our secretary calls the mom.  I get an email later that day.  The mom says that they can afford that.  They will go on Friday when they get paid to pick them up.  She says to tell me thanks.  I really don't want it, I just did what I knew was right.  Christ calls us to be a voice for those who can't speak for themselves, literally and figuratively.  I was the voice for this family, the advocate some would say.  I like to think that I was a living Jesus to them.  I like to think that they will someday bless someone else because they were once blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, a proud little 7 year old boy wore his new glasses to school.  The gift of sight, so precious.  He looked around at stuff like he was seeing it for the first time. What a beautiful world, everyone deserves to see it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5956211912901125036?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5956211912901125036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5956211912901125036' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5956211912901125036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5956211912901125036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/sight.html' title='Sight'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SOF4shhyqII/AAAAAAAAAPg/VQwqRHpE1bI/s72-c/Fall+2008+043.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3030462781935736104</id><published>2008-09-20T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T15:31:52.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Know Your Lesson is Over When...</title><content type='html'>...a student says "Oh my gosh!  My pants are on backwards!".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3030462781935736104?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3030462781935736104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3030462781935736104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3030462781935736104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3030462781935736104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-know-your-lesson-is-over-when.html' title='You Know Your Lesson is Over When...'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3225638274743705493</id><published>2008-09-16T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T16:57:26.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Melancholy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SNBHmrsiFyI/AAAAAAAAAPY/rPzdi2CZqXk/s1600-h/259427.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SNBHmrsiFyI/AAAAAAAAAPY/rPzdi2CZqXk/s320/259427.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246772295776737058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kathy, my dear friend and coworker, experienced a great loss this weekend as her father passed away.  He hasn't been well for probably 6 months or so, and in the last month has really gone downhill fast.  It has been hard on her, and rightly so.  Her parents live in Indianapolis, a 15 hour drive, and several layovers if you fly.  She leaves tomorrow to go be with her mom and brothers, and to say a final goodbye to her father on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SNBHS-91EtI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/0wbiv3R0YZc/s1600-h/Fall+2008+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SNBHS-91EtI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/0wbiv3R0YZc/s320/Fall+2008+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246771957352174290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bekah, my dear friend from church, is about to pop.  She is almost 8 months pregnant. We had a book shower for her and her baby Levi, who we are all very excited to meet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two different people, two different ends of the life spectrum.  Great reflection and revisiting of memories, and in a strange way relief for one; great anticipation, preparation and joy for the other.  Life is happening all around us.  Are you paying attention?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Starbucks, as always, passed on some good perspective that I shared with Kathy today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The way we get to live forever is&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; through memories stored in the&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; hearts and souls of those whose&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; lives we touch. That’s our soul&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; print. It’s our comfort, our&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; emotional nourishment at the end&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; of the day and the end of a life.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; How wonderful that they are called&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; up at will and savored randomly.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; It seems to me we should spend our&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; lives in a conscious state of&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; creating these meaningful moments&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; that live on. Memories matter.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Leeza Gibbons&lt;br /&gt;(Television and radio personality)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3225638274743705493?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3225638274743705493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3225638274743705493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3225638274743705493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3225638274743705493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/melancholy.html' title='Melancholy'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SNBHmrsiFyI/AAAAAAAAAPY/rPzdi2CZqXk/s72-c/259427.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1875398009639950677</id><published>2008-09-12T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T12:06:29.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September 11</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMq9efYfJRI/AAAAAAAAAPI/UqrlBXEt0O8/s1600-h/CM_between_towers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245213047544292626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMq9efYfJRI/AAAAAAAAAPI/UqrlBXEt0O8/s400/CM_between_towers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is strange waking up on September 11th, 7 years later, thinking about what happened that day in 2001. Where I was, what I was doing. September 11, 2008 was much more ordinary. I worked, thinking and praying about the families of the victims throughout the day. I talked briefly with my students, who were either infants or in utero in 2001, explaining briefly what the day was about and what it signified. We read &lt;em&gt;The Man Who Walked Between the Towers&lt;/em&gt; . I met up with Vanessa and Laurel for Bible study. A very ordinary Thursday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way home from Bible study, I noticed a flag flying at half mast, and wondered why it was lowered. Then I remembered the date. I felt guilty at first, for not remembering, for it not being more significant or out of the ordinary. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I felt that doing my ordinary things in my ordinary life while thinking about that day quietly, in and of itself is honoring to those who lost their lives that day. I am so thankful for my freedoms, and perhaps enjoying them in this ordinary way on September 11, 7 years later, is the best way to give tribute to those who lost their lives, or who are still fighting for our freedoms.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;From The Man Who Walked Between the Towers:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now the towers are gone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But, in memory, as if imprinted on the sky, the towers are still there. And part of that memory is the joyful morning, August 7, 1974, when Philippe Petit walked between them in the air.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1875398009639950677?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1875398009639950677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1875398009639950677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1875398009639950677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1875398009639950677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/september-11.html' title='September 11'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMq9efYfJRI/AAAAAAAAAPI/UqrlBXEt0O8/s72-c/CM_between_towers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2888982245728041745</id><published>2008-09-10T20:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T20:33:20.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Creepy Crawlies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMiRc97fx7I/AAAAAAAAAK4/9p46Yx3X5JM/s1600-h/Fall+2008+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMiRc97fx7I/AAAAAAAAAK4/9p46Yx3X5JM/s320/Fall+2008+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244601692919416754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a rough day.  Not anything in particular, just a whole bunch of stuff.  My day started with not being able to get onto the highway because someone decided moving over for me was not a top priority and just went downhill from there.  Grant and Vanessa came over after they had youth group, bearing smiles, laughter and ice cream.  We also decided to have some Gewurz...my new favorite after wine tasting in Sonoma with Zach this summer.  We were sitting, chatting and laughing, and I took a sip, then noticed this.  Not nearly as bad as Cheri's black widows, but equally ewwie considering I drank out of that, and at that point it was still alive.  Although, that's probably not the worst way to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2888982245728041745?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2888982245728041745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2888982245728041745' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2888982245728041745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2888982245728041745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/creepy-crawlies.html' title='Creepy Crawlies'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMiRc97fx7I/AAAAAAAAAK4/9p46Yx3X5JM/s72-c/Fall+2008+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4517830227193897500</id><published>2008-09-08T17:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T17:53:33.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions, Decisions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMXI9Q5coYI/AAAAAAAAAKw/KvVBKuWrpOw/s1600-h/decisions.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMXI9Q5coYI/AAAAAAAAAKw/KvVBKuWrpOw/s320/decisions.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243818295976305026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yes, this is a horrible picture of me.  But the concept I think is funny.  Vote Bob Barr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4517830227193897500?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4517830227193897500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4517830227193897500' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4517830227193897500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4517830227193897500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/decisions-decisions.html' title='Decisions, Decisions'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMXI9Q5coYI/AAAAAAAAAKw/KvVBKuWrpOw/s72-c/decisions.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1504246811835530575</id><published>2008-09-08T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T17:50:30.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something New</title><content type='html'>So I am trying to become a more consistent blogger.  I love blogging, but often am so overwhelmed and exhausted when I get home that I don't sit down and blog.  I got this idea from one of Zach's friends, Kristi, who has a picture of the day blog.  I have decided that I am going to keep my camera handy throughout the day and try to get a picture of the day (without students, p&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMXIR3nLeaI/AAAAAAAAAKo/ocIsChqmb7A/s1600-h/Fall+2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMXIR3nLeaI/AAAAAAAAAKo/ocIsChqmb7A/s400/Fall+2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243817550454421922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;rivacy stuff) of my class or my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our family night tonight.  The kids made hats to remember to come.  I got to talk because I was voted loudest.  Thanks mom and dad.  I am on the parent involvement committee at school and so I kind of made this my baby.  I made copies, powerpoints and flyers, all of which have to be translated into Spanish of course.  Whew, exhausting, but I am really proud of what I did.  My team and I are all happy to have one of our 2 family nights out of the way for the year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1504246811835530575?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1504246811835530575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1504246811835530575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1504246811835530575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1504246811835530575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/something-new.html' title='Something New'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SMXIR3nLeaI/AAAAAAAAAKo/ocIsChqmb7A/s72-c/Fall+2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4117510819266057191</id><published>2008-09-07T16:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T17:11:05.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cut Your Ears Off</title><content type='html'>My students got their hearing checked this week.  Turns out that they can hear me, so their inability to follow directions, even simple ones such as STOP TALKING must be due to the fact that they are 7 years old.  Oh, to be 7 again.  I don't know if I specifically remember being that age, but I remember the era.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to keep telling myself that the fact that they never stop talking and can't follow directions is because they are 7 and they can't help that, so I can't get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;frustrated&lt;/span&gt;.  This is by far, the lowest class I have had, and I am looking at it for a great opportunity to work with these kids and see great growth.  There is amazing room for potential.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the kids, upon learning that we were going to get our hearing checked responded with "Is she going to cut off our ears?!?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, but at least they're starting to get my sense of humor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4117510819266057191?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4117510819266057191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4117510819266057191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4117510819266057191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4117510819266057191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/cut-your-ears-off.html' title='Cut Your Ears Off'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1873856268046199089</id><published>2008-08-27T17:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T17:24:24.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breakfast Product in a Biscuit</title><content type='html'>I forgot to eat breakfast today.  It was the first PLC (profesisonal learning community), or as I like to call it, Pathetic Losers Club, of the year.  We meet as a team at 8 every Wednesday from now until eternity, and it being the first one threw of my morning routine and I left the house with only my lunch in tow.  Realizing this halfway to school caused me to pull into a Macdons to get some kind of food to tide me over until lunch.  I went inside, the drive through line was insanely long, and ordered a breakfast product in a biscuit and coffee.  While I was waiting for my breakfast product in a biscuit, I observed the caliber of society that ascends upon a Macdons near my school in the wee hours of the morning.  There were lots of men getting their morning coffee, and them being there seemed normal or fitting almost.  There were some older people taking their time eating their finely crafted cuisine, and they as well were not out of place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I saw them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Squished&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;into&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;booth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stuffing their faces...and I (ashamedly) thought to myself "and the fat get fatter."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for not judging today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1873856268046199089?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1873856268046199089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1873856268046199089' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1873856268046199089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1873856268046199089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/08/breakfast-product-in-biscuit.html' title='Breakfast Product in a Biscuit'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-7708744031442176334</id><published>2008-08-20T18:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T18:57:46.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chair</title><content type='html'>On the corner of a street near my school there is a little yellow house.  This little yellow house has a porch.  On the porch there is a simple wooden kitchen chair.  Most mornings there is a man on the chair.  He looks quite old, somewhat frail and from my distant observation he's lived a good life.  He's African American and he always is wearing coveralls.  When I pass him on my way from Starbucks to school he waves.  I wave back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so intrigued by this man.  I want to know his story.  I want to take a black and white picture of him sitting on his chair on his porch.  I want to sit down with a glass of iced tea and watch the world go by from his chair on the porch, I want to learn from him, to see what he has to share with the world and leave with us once he's called home.  I probably never will, and that's okay.  I am busy collecting ideas for my someday to be written children's book, and this man and his porch just might be it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-7708744031442176334?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7708744031442176334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=7708744031442176334' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/7708744031442176334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/7708744031442176334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/08/chair.html' title='The Chair'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-6130293341030569371</id><published>2008-08-15T19:21:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:21:58.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Street Drummers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/T4AM9PXyjLw' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/T4AM9PXyjLw'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I deleted the video I took of these guys, so I am so glad I found this.  They're awesome!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-6130293341030569371?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6130293341030569371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=6130293341030569371' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6130293341030569371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6130293341030569371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/08/street-drummers_15.html' title='Street Drummers'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5539098623263955415</id><published>2008-08-15T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T18:28:56.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Contagious</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SKYtTwY0k6I/AAAAAAAAAJg/7jkkWQi4abQ/s1600-h/AVL.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SKYtTwY0k6I/AAAAAAAAAJg/7jkkWQi4abQ/s400/AVL.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234921434294555554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was the first day of school, which will be reserved for a future post.  Some wonderful friends (Vanessa and Grant) here in Wichita invited me over for dinner, so I was happy to oblige.  Not having to cook is always a great plan, but don't worry, they are coming over on Saturday to have a fiesta!  Anyway, all that is beside the point.  After dinner we went to Barnes and Noble to meet some more friends (Luke and Laurel and their foreign exchange student Chris) so that Laurel, Van and I could research Bible studies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys got coffee while we perused the Christian inspiration section, and finally narrowing down some choices we joined the boys in the Starbucks.  The next two hours were filled with laughter, teaching Chris to pop straws and all kinds of other noisy activities.  At one point I said that we were probably being too loud and might get kicked out.  A few minutes later, the girl who was working the counter behind Starbucks came over and had cheesecake samples, which we were happy to take off her hands.  As she was standing there she said to us how much she appreciated our laughter.  She said that she could tell we were having a great time and that our laughter had made her bad day better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This stuck with me for some reason.  We weren't doing anything out of the ordinary for us, really for me I was just spending time with people who I feel like I am truly in community with, accountable to and just who I can be myself around.  Being the "unmarried" of the group has never made me feel uncomfortable or awkward.  I can have great conversations with Luke or Grant as well with Van and Laurel.  I am so thankful for these friends and their ability to be transparent, and to let me be transparent with them.  And I am thankful that we laugh together, lots, and that on one random Thursday night, our laughter brought a smile to another person's face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5539098623263955415?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5539098623263955415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5539098623263955415' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5539098623263955415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5539098623263955415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/08/contagious.html' title='Contagious'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SKYtTwY0k6I/AAAAAAAAAJg/7jkkWQi4abQ/s72-c/AVL.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4979139495017281479</id><published>2008-08-06T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T19:59:06.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Left Unsaid</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The world is too fragile for people to be untrue.  There's too much at stake and life's too short for lies.  And you're the worst kind of person in the world because you wasted my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4979139495017281479?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4979139495017281479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4979139495017281479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4979139495017281479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4979139495017281479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/08/better-left-unsaid.html' title='Better Left Unsaid'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-536350915239955522</id><published>2008-07-20T19:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T19:07:59.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>World On Fire</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/hzoNInZ2ClQ' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/hzoNInZ2ClQ'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-536350915239955522?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/536350915239955522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=536350915239955522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/536350915239955522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/536350915239955522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/07/world-on-fire.html' title='World On Fire'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2213790166327202536</id><published>2008-07-20T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T19:01:59.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How To Summarize?</title><content type='html'>Zach and I have returned from our roadtrip, and I've been putting off posting anything on the blog; partially because I am doing laundry and getting readjusted to life in Ta of Wichi, but also...I don't know how to describe our trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen a few people since getting back, and talked to even more on the phone, and they all ask the same thing "how was your trip???" with great enthusiasm.  It's only after I have bored them to tears with an hour of stories that I think they begin to regret asking that question.  Okay, so no one has cried...yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I describe to anyone that wasn't there what the trip was like and how much fun we had, an all that we experienced?  The variety of things we did is amazing, and I tried to savor each and every moment, knowing that unfortunately our time on the road would come to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my trip I sat in the moonlight next to a fire and smoked a cigar.  More than once.  I saw a bear.  I hiked up into the mountains 6 miles and camped on mosquito mountain.  I laughed.  I talked with God.  I watched sunsets.  I ate noodles and luna bars.  I read 5 books.  I felt the heat of 110 degrees in the desert.  I looked up into the sky at the sequoias and redwoods and marveled at their size.  I got sore muscles.  I ate clam chowder.  Twice.  I wrote lots of postcards.  I filled the car with gas.  Countless times.  I listened to a wide variety of music.  I watched an entire season of The Office.  I perfected french braiding my hair.  I got a tan.  I felt the coolness of the ocean on my feet and the heat of the sun on my skin.  I made memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful that I took this trip.  Like Zach said, there are lots of girls that would give their two front teeth to have a trip like that with their brothers.  I think I take our relationship with him for granted, and this roadtrip was a great reminder of how blessed I am with my family.  If I could change anything about my trip, I would bring Christi with too.  She's coming next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SIPtvbkjr9I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/pzjbOlTWxVY/s1600-h/Roadtrip+549.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SIPtvbkjr9I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/pzjbOlTWxVY/s400/Roadtrip+549.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225281391790632914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2213790166327202536?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2213790166327202536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2213790166327202536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2213790166327202536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2213790166327202536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-to-summarize.html' title='How To Summarize?'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SIPtvbkjr9I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/pzjbOlTWxVY/s72-c/Roadtrip+549.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-6320313881688203041</id><published>2008-07-20T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T18:49:43.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SIPrLImGTmI/AAAAAAAAAJI/vEXUzV6FXO4/s1600-h/Roadtrip+143.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SIPrLImGTmI/AAAAAAAAAJI/vEXUzV6FXO4/s400/Roadtrip+143.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225278569198276194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;h2 style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; You're beautiful&lt;br /&gt;Every little piece love, and don't you know&lt;br /&gt;You're really gonna be someone, ask anyone&lt;br /&gt;and when you find everything you looked for&lt;br /&gt;I hope your life leads you back to my door&lt;br /&gt;Oh but if it don't, stay beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-6320313881688203041?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6320313881688203041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=6320313881688203041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6320313881688203041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6320313881688203041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/07/beautiful.html' title='Beautiful'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SIPrLImGTmI/AAAAAAAAAJI/vEXUzV6FXO4/s72-c/Roadtrip+143.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1544937609121816609</id><published>2008-06-24T11:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T11:43:42.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cardboard Testimonies</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/RvDDc5RB6FQ' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/RvDDc5RB6FQ'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My friend Vanessa showed me this yesterday, and I thought it is incredibly powerful.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1544937609121816609?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1544937609121816609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1544937609121816609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1544937609121816609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1544937609121816609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/06/cardboard-testimonies.html' title='Cardboard Testimonies'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5530910664675373863</id><published>2008-06-21T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T21:24:21.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ROAD TRIP!</title><content type='html'>As I am sure you've noticed...I haven't been blogging lately.  Not much happening in the summer.  I am going to be leaving on Wednesday for a road trip with my brother.  We've got big plans and ambitions, lots of National Parks and lots of hiking!  I'll try to update with pictures and thoughts along the way!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5530910664675373863?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5530910664675373863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5530910664675373863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5530910664675373863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5530910664675373863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/06/road-trip.html' title='ROAD TRIP!'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3588443859778172714</id><published>2008-05-22T09:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T09:22:54.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>End of the Year Celebration</title><content type='html'>We had our end of the year assembly and celebration today.  Students with great attendance were honored, and then the students wrote something for their teachers as well.  Here is why my students think I am the best teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ms. J is good at teaching math.  She tells us funny jokes and always makes us laugh!  She helps whenever we need it for our centers or morning work, and lets us watch movies and compare them with the book.  She brings things and people to show and tell, like her iPod and her Mom and Dad from Wisconsin.  Ms. J tells us stories, and we wonder if they are true!  She brought us cheese curds and kumquats for us to try-those are both foods.  She is very nice, and sometimes acts silly and funny.  You're the greatest!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3588443859778172714?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3588443859778172714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3588443859778172714' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3588443859778172714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3588443859778172714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/end-of-year-celebration.html' title='End of the Year Celebration'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8456456940078262108</id><published>2008-05-11T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T11:56:33.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Nasty, But Nicely</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How to be passive-aggressive: An out-of-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;stater's&lt;/span&gt; guide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought that the ultimate passive-aggressive move for people who grew up in Minnesota is to act like they don't know what passive-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;aggression&lt;/span&gt; is.  "Me?  I am &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not.&lt;/span&gt;  Whatever that is.  Gee you look tired."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;natural&lt;/span&gt; outgrown of the non-expressive communication style of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Scandinavian&lt;/span&gt;, German and British cultures.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;All&lt;/span&gt; those built-up toxins have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;to &lt;/span&gt;be released somehow.  Web definition: "Indirectly and unassertively expressing aggression towards others, masking resentment or hostility."  American Heritage: "Of, relating to, or having a personality disorder characterized by habitual passive resistance to demands for adequate performance in occupational or social situations, as by procrastination, stubbornness, sullenness and inefficiency."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness the American Psychological Association took passive aggression off the list of personality disorders as "too narrow to be a full blown diagnosis."  Narrow is what it's all about, and besides, it's not a disorder---it's a way of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Body language is an important tool.  When delivering an insecure compliment, cock your head, raise your brows slightly and hold your  mouth in a half smile while delivering the compliment.  The recipient will know you didn't mean it, yet you needn't fear reprisal as you've just said something perfectly lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A play book for the novice passive-aggressive:&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I hope everything works out!"  (Translation: "I can't wait till your plans completely fall through and you return a total failure so I can say I told you so.") &lt;br /&gt;"That's an interesting dress."  (Translation: "If only you would stop following trends and just shop Talbot's like a grown up.")&lt;br /&gt;"You look tired, are you okay?"  (Translation: Out late again last night hmmmm?" or "You're just not aging as well as I am are you?")  By the way, this is NEVER, under any circumstance, and appropriate thing to say, except by a parent to a child.  If you really care about the person try "What can I take off your plate today?" instead.  Then actually do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;Taken from the Star Tribune - May 21, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;As funny as that article is, and as much I as I appreciate the truth in it (being from the Midwest) I am learning that I tend to be a bit on the passive aggressive side.  I can make snide remarks that serve no purpose other than to get a dig in and pass the blame.  I had a friend tell me once, after I said I was just joking, that there is truth in every joke.  I am working very hard to not be this way, because it always comes back around to bite me in the butt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8456456940078262108?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8456456940078262108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8456456940078262108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8456456940078262108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8456456940078262108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/being-nasty-but-nicely.html' title='Being Nasty, But Nicely'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4665273751233994842</id><published>2008-05-09T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T16:33:23.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For My Mommy</title><content type='html'>Dear Mom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where exactly to start, so I am just going to jump right in. I don't know if I have ever told you, or if I tell you enough, but you are one of the most amazing people I know. I am so blessed to have an example like you. I was thinking back recently over my many memories of you, and I don't think I can remember a time where you have complained about anything. You exude grace and humility in each and every situation I see you in, and despite any obstacles or challenges, you take them on fully with a positive attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember all throughout growing up and especially living in Czech and having you be a constant in my life. I know that all of our experiences there were lived together as a family, but you are a huge ingredient in what held us and continues to hold us together. You have made choices, that other people may have seen as not the ideal, to stay home and be first and foremost a wife and mom. Thank you. I hope that Zach and Christi and I are living examples of your years of work, love and dedication to our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for making me pay back the grocery store man when I stole from Bonson's. Thank you for picking me up after I skinned my knees riding my bike in my swimming suit. Thank you for letting me swim in the lake when there was still ice on it, for cooking crayfish and for encouraging my imagination. Thank you for teaching me to read. Thank you for cooking so many dinners and making meals a family time. Thank you for taking me to church. Thank you for letting me ride the bus alone in Chomutov. Thank you for letting me skip nature school after my one and only horrible experience with it. Thank you for sitting through long, monotonous swim meets. Thank you for letting me have FCA at our house. Thank you for letting me make mistakes. Thank you for helping me move, countless times. Thank you for being the voice of reason in my many emotional moments in life. Thank you for supporting me in all I do. I could go on and on, but I don't think that there truly are words to express to you how grateful I am to you and for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, one of the things that impresses me most about you, is your perseverance. You have never given up, never thrown in the towel when things got tough. Instead, you hold your head up and keep going. I am so proud of you! You are truly an amazing person, and all those who come into contact with you are blessed by your quiet grace and Godly example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Mom,  Happy Mother's Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SCTfI608NbI/AAAAAAAAAJA/d07d1wp-wnU/s1600-h/mommy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SCTfI608NbI/AAAAAAAAAJA/d07d1wp-wnU/s400/mommy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198525214215648690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4665273751233994842?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4665273751233994842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4665273751233994842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4665273751233994842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4665273751233994842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/for-my-mommy.html' title='For My Mommy'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SCTfI608NbI/AAAAAAAAAJA/d07d1wp-wnU/s72-c/mommy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-7024645040148187692</id><published>2008-05-07T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T08:12:22.715-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ponderments'/><title type='text'>A Delicate Balance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; It is important to our friends to believe that we are unreservedly frank with them, and important to friendship that we are not.  &lt;br /&gt;— Mignon McLaughlin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Friendship, well relationships in general, are a delicate balance.  I think we all are learning this constantly.  It is interesting to learn how you can interact or act around certain people, and how with others those same comments all of a sudden become hurtful or cause tension in the relationship.  I've seen this with myself and friends lately, not our interactions with one another, but our friendships with others.  My team and I can act a certain way and it's all in good fun, but those actions don't always transfer over to my other friendships.  Beyond that, I think that good intentions can cause pain and misunderstanding between friends.  The delicate balance is, how then exactly do we be honest and transparent with one another without causing pain.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-7024645040148187692?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7024645040148187692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=7024645040148187692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/7024645040148187692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/7024645040148187692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/delicate-balance.html' title='A Delicate Balance'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8412363380883334164</id><published>2008-04-29T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T18:46:02.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>P.S. I Hate My Dog</title><content type='html'>My kids are writing letters to the Dale House Interns where my best friend Anna works.  I try to regularly supply Anna with letters and care packages, and she said that some of the other interns were jealous of her frequent mail-joy.  So, I put my 20 squirmers to work writing letters to the lonely Dale House Interns.  I read them before putting them in the envelope, because I wanted to see what they wrote.  One student in particular wrote a lovely letter to one of the interns, asking questions and talking about himself.  After signing his name, he'd included a P.S.  It was little and squished on the bottom, and when I looked a little closer, I saw that he'd written "P.S. I hate my dog."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta love 'em.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8412363380883334164?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8412363380883334164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8412363380883334164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8412363380883334164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8412363380883334164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/04/ps-i-hate-my-dog.html' title='P.S. I Hate My Dog'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-6659106846154024882</id><published>2008-04-23T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T18:20:23.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Zach!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SA_gTSAA9uI/AAAAAAAAAIw/MJn5D_jso6s/s1600-h/100_2813.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SA_gTSAA9uI/AAAAAAAAAIw/MJn5D_jso6s/s400/100_2813.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192615517235508962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My brother, one of my best friends and partner in crime for the past 23 years turns 26 today. I am trying to do birthday posts for people, and so today I was trying to think of a fun memory to share of my brother. There are so many to choose from. I can't really put into words what having an older brother is like, and I think everyone who has an older brother would agree with me. He let me tag along with him and his friends growing up, he was my safety net when we had to ride the bus together to school in Czech, he was my ride places in high school and he is now a friend who pushes me to be the best person I can be. I think every girl should have an older brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of growing up with Zach, one of the first things that comes to mind is what we now fondly call "the dweeb era." This was the part of our life that takes place in the home schooled, cartoon van driving, red pants wearing, grape pop drinking time. We built forts, went swimming a lot and tried to sell crap to our parents. It was during this time that my Barbie was forced to marry Bravestar, and we always had a difficult time finding a place for them to live because the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;lincoln&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; logs could only build houses that were so high. Poor Barbie had to duck to fit through those doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who knows Zach can appreciate and understand his genuine spirit and care for others. He builds people up and challenges them with his actions and words. He is someone what I am so proud to not only know, but call my brother. Happy Birthday bro!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-6659106846154024882?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6659106846154024882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=6659106846154024882' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6659106846154024882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6659106846154024882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-birthday-zach.html' title='Happy Birthday Zach!'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/SA_gTSAA9uI/AAAAAAAAAIw/MJn5D_jso6s/s72-c/100_2813.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2827910648761697284</id><published>2008-04-17T13:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T13:09:12.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Other News</title><content type='html'>I've fixed the pencil sharpener.  When it broke I told my kids that if it didn't get fixed they'd have to sharpen their pencils with their teeth.  I think they are happy it's working again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2827910648761697284?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2827910648761697284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2827910648761697284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2827910648761697284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2827910648761697284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-other-news.html' title='In Other News'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3560970625390350619</id><published>2008-04-17T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T07:46:18.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Searching for Space</title><content type='html'>I have been challenged recently to find some space in between my life at school and my real life.  My job is so intensive that I have a hard time leaving work at work and truly separating myself from that.  I remember last summer when I went home and spent the summer in Minnesota with the family that I nannied for throughout college.  I had a hard time just relaxing and letting go of my job, I felt a little lost, like I always should be doing something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have been trying to not just leave work at work during the week in a physical sense (I haven't been bringing my school work home to do at home except for planing on the weekends) but mentally as well.  I am trying to do things for me, just for me, things I want to do.  I have been going to the Y more than I had been, listening to some good tunes on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;IPod&lt;/span&gt; while I run.  Running is not my favorite thing to do because it is hard and hot and sweaty, but it does clear my mind.  I started going tanning (yes I know, skin cancer kills) but I am tired of being pasty white when it is warm enough to be wearing skirts and flip flops.  I have also devoted Thursday evenings to be a night where I get some quality girl time with friends.  It has been just Laurel and I for the past few weeks, but tonight my friend Vanessa from work is going to join us.  We're going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Oeno&lt;/span&gt; in downtown Wichita...it should be fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that we let our work consume us?  Don't get me wrong, I love my job and I believe it is such a ministry and with that aspect of it, my work becomes something I am emotionally connected to because of how passionate I am about what I do.  However, my job is not who I am.  That does not define me.  I am, and will always be, an individual regardless of my job  and what I do.  I think about my parents and the past year.  It has been a tough ride for them with jobs and searching for what the next step will be.  Perhaps this is because we as a family were so emotionally tied to the job they had, and maybe in that we let it define us a little bit.  Our jobs shape us, but they are not who we are.   And beyond jobs, many things can cloud who we are.  How many of us when introducing ourselves say "I am married to so and so, or I have 3 kids, or I work at such and such a place."  These material things can all disappear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then the question becomes, if my job is not who I am, then who am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for some soul searching...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3560970625390350619?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3560970625390350619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3560970625390350619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3560970625390350619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3560970625390350619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/04/searching-for-space.html' title='Searching for Space'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1133646142307561477</id><published>2008-04-08T09:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T09:49:55.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama, Drama, Drama</title><content type='html'>My motto for the week - Leave the drama for your mama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be a doozy, I can already tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1133646142307561477?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1133646142307561477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1133646142307561477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1133646142307561477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1133646142307561477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/04/drama-drama-drama.html' title='Drama, Drama, Drama'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1792848869625944295</id><published>2008-04-04T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T07:27:52.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feel Good Stuff</title><content type='html'>There are moments in teaching when a student does something that warms your heart and reminds you why you do this day in and day out.  I call this feel good stuff.  Here is my latest addition to my feel good stuff.  (I kept the original spelling)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My luky day is when I first moved to cloud.  Because my teacher was nice and prety and had lots of style.  And be funky."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1792848869625944295?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1792848869625944295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1792848869625944295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1792848869625944295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1792848869625944295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/04/feel-good-stuff.html' title='Feel Good Stuff'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-143902522382678257</id><published>2008-04-02T19:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T19:55:50.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R_RHEACRw5I/AAAAAAAAAII/3_CdeyFwHjI/s1600-h/Camping+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R_RHEACRw5I/AAAAAAAAAII/3_CdeyFwHjI/s400/Camping+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184847205064885138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this picture, and I am very proud of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-143902522382678257?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/143902522382678257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=143902522382678257' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/143902522382678257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/143902522382678257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/04/beauty.html' title='Beauty'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R_RHEACRw5I/AAAAAAAAAII/3_CdeyFwHjI/s72-c/Camping+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5782147074232358801</id><published>2008-03-27T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T07:49:30.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff White People Like</title><content type='html'>The subtitle could be "Stuff Bethel People Like".  This blog is extremely satirical, which is my sense of humor completely...and I am definitely white as I like my nalgene, coffee, dogs and expensive sandwiches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/"&gt;http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5782147074232358801?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5782147074232358801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5782147074232358801' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5782147074232358801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5782147074232358801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/03/stuff-white-people-like.html' title='Stuff White People Like'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1166562831846055094</id><published>2008-03-22T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T08:34:01.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For Zach</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R-Umr-KZIwI/AAAAAAAAAIA/Oo8XiQJsuQ4/s1600-h/Spring+Break+129.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R-Umr-KZIwI/AAAAAAAAAIA/Oo8XiQJsuQ4/s400/Spring+Break+129.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180589483222442754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We miss you, as does the miniature chicklet and the smoking boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1166562831846055094?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1166562831846055094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1166562831846055094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1166562831846055094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1166562831846055094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/03/for-zach.html' title='For Zach'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R-Umr-KZIwI/AAAAAAAAAIA/Oo8XiQJsuQ4/s72-c/Spring+Break+129.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5721469515826287952</id><published>2008-03-17T11:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T11:27:27.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hosanna</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/NsPRUPX0d18' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/NsPRUPX0d18'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5721469515826287952?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5721469515826287952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5721469515826287952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5721469515826287952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5721469515826287952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/03/hosanna.html' title='Hosanna'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2096514686358337203</id><published>2008-03-14T19:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T19:19:25.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Free Rice</title><content type='html'>Try &lt;a href="http://www.freerice.com/index.php"&gt;this.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2096514686358337203?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2096514686358337203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2096514686358337203' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2096514686358337203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2096514686358337203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/03/free-rice.html' title='Free Rice'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4533348608868391341</id><published>2008-03-10T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T07:48:14.825-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Beautiful Thing</title><content type='html'>I am posting from school, which I never do.  I just was enjoying the beauty of the morning time, writing to be exact.  My students are all silently working on their animal projects, and we are listening to Minnesota Public Radio (classical) streaming online and it is a beautiful thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's picture day, which is a blessed event that happens twice a  year when students go uniform-free.  My urchins all look lovely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4533348608868391341?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4533348608868391341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4533348608868391341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4533348608868391341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4533348608868391341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/03/beautiful-thing.html' title='A Beautiful Thing'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-6486135692587154758</id><published>2008-03-08T07:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T07:45:32.822-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Backpack Saga</title><content type='html'>I kicked a student's backpack this week.  Not because I was angry or frustrated, but because it was laying in the floor in the middle of my doorway to my room.  It wasn't a full blown kick, more like a firm shove with my foot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A parent from another class saw the backpack being firmly shoved with my foot and called the school to complain.  I had to have a little chat with one of our assistant principals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson learned.  Don't kick backpacks.  But, if kicking the backpack is the worst decision I make during my career as a teacher, I don't think I'll be too bad off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I am pretty sure I'll be staying at my school for year 3.  I really truly believe that for whatever reason, God has this job for me at this point in my life.  It's not what I had planned when I packed up and moved down here, but do our plans ever really end up being the best for us?  I am trusting God and so excited to see what is in store for me in this season.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-6486135692587154758?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6486135692587154758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=6486135692587154758' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6486135692587154758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6486135692587154758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/03/backpack-saga.html' title='The Backpack Saga'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3235844861857238476</id><published>2008-02-29T07:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T07:12:43.437-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Way I See It #279</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Seeing as I haven't done a Starbucks post in a while, I figured it was time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Happy Friday Starbucks day to you all! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Beware of turning into the enemy you most fear. All it takes is to lash out violently at someone who has done you some grievous harm, proclaiming that only your pain matters in this world. More than against that person’s body, you will then, at that moment, be committing a crime against your own imagination."&lt;br /&gt;-- Ariel DorfmanNovelist, playwright and essayist.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3235844861857238476?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3235844861857238476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3235844861857238476' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3235844861857238476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3235844861857238476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/02/way-i-see-it-279.html' title='The Way I See It #279'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8971741966961242709</id><published>2008-02-26T18:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T18:44:39.964-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teacher's Salaries</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:MS Sans Serif;font-size:100%;color:black;"   &gt;I got this email today from a fellow teacher, I think it's something interesting to think about.  I don't feel underpaid...yet.  But I do think that overall teachers are a little overlooked.  And yes, there is a hint of sarcasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Teachers'  hefty salaries are driving up taxes, and they only work 9 or 10 months a  year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;It's time we  put things in perspective and pay them for what they do--baby  sit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;We can get  that for less than minimum wage. That's right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Let's give  them $3.00 an hour and only the hours they worked, not any of that silly  planning time. That would be $19.50 a day (7:00 AM to 3:30 (or so) PM with just  25 min. off for lunch).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Each parent  should pay $19.50 a day for these teachers to baby-sit their  children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;NOW...How  many do they teach in a class, 30? So that's $19.50 x 30 = $585.00 a  day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;However,  remember they only work 180 days a year!!! We're not going to pay them for any  vacations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;LET'S  SEE....That's $585 x 180= $105,300 per year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;What about  those special teachers and the ones with master's  degrees?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Well, we  could pay them minimum wage, and just to be fair, round it off to $7.00 an  hour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;That would  be $7 x 6 1/2 hours x 30 children x 180 days = $245,700 per  year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Wait a  minute--there's something wrong here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Average  teacher salary $50,000/180 days = $277/per day/30 students = $9.23/6.5 hours =  $1.42 per hour per student.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;A very  inexpensive baby-sitter and they even try - with your help - to EDUCATE your  kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT A  DEAL.... And the parents don't even have to buy us  pizza!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8971741966961242709?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8971741966961242709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8971741966961242709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8971741966961242709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8971741966961242709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/02/teachers-salaries.html' title='Teacher&apos;s Salaries'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1226385035954094236</id><published>2008-02-23T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T11:17:39.677-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quotes Of The Week</title><content type='html'>"I'm choking!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You played Bingo without me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can we do the Electric Slide without you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Panda bears make their babies live in wooden nests."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I won him!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can tell, there was much educational value to all that I taught this week, including the Electric Slide.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1226385035954094236?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1226385035954094236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1226385035954094236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1226385035954094236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1226385035954094236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/02/quotes-of-week.html' title='Quotes Of The Week'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3029146044562621423</id><published>2008-02-13T18:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T18:57:51.842-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Doctor Is In</title><content type='html'>I had strep throat two weeks ago.  My prescription - amoxocillin for 10 days.  I have a bronchitis thing now.  My prescription - codeine, prednisone and a Z-pack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my job, just not the side effects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be spending the remainder of my day preparing for the heavily anticipated Valentines Festivus at school tomorrow.  May the force be with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3029146044562621423?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3029146044562621423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3029146044562621423' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3029146044562621423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3029146044562621423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/02/doctor-is-in.html' title='The Doctor Is In'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-7864448249130292467</id><published>2008-02-07T20:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T20:53:38.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Then It All Makes Sense</title><content type='html'>I had a parent tell me today at conferences "Thank you for teaching my daughter."  This is, to date, the first and only thank you I have received for doing my job.  And, it was one of those moments, in the midst of chaos and stress that made me stop and remember that the reason I do this is because of the kids.  All that I love about teaching happens in the classroom, and everything that frustrates me about teaching happens outside the classroom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-7864448249130292467?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7864448249130292467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=7864448249130292467' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/7864448249130292467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/7864448249130292467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/02/then-it-all-makes-sense.html' title='Then It All Makes Sense'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8163653635055706676</id><published>2008-02-06T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T18:29:29.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Conferences</title><content type='html'>Parent teacher conferences are quite interesting.  I learn why the children are the way they are, sometimes good, sometimes bad, occasionally ugly.  For example, I was told the following comment by a parent at a conference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't understand this s--t you send home for homework."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well then, where do you go from that???  Awkward laughter, definitely.  Offering a 2nd grade refresher course, perhaps.  Smile and nod, sometimes.  Turn it around so that some good comes of it, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am learning that the challenges of parent teacher conferences are not so much telling parents what their children need to work on, or even that their child has a horrible behavior problem.  It is more that I have to respond to comments like that in a positive, gracious and professional way.  That's hard.  I didn't really want to have to deal with that particular incident, especially since a comment like that tells me that school is probably not the top priority in this parent's mind.  But somehow I manage to graciously turn around even the most crude of comments, so that the parents leave feeling encouraged, the student leaves feeling smart and I smile and walk them to the door hoping my message, or even a fraction of it, has been understood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time will only tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8163653635055706676?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8163653635055706676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8163653635055706676' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8163653635055706676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8163653635055706676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/02/conferences.html' title='Conferences'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2957817684306275074</id><published>2008-02-06T18:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T18:17:43.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Known Abi Facts</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I’ve been tagged by &lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://northwoodsramblings.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Cheri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://northwoodsramblings.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am to list 7 random facts about myself…&lt;/p&gt; &lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;My favorite sandwich is a BLT.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;In college I was in a lip-syncing contest to a Romanian pop song, inspired by this &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KmtzQCSh6xk"&gt;man&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have not shopped at Wal-Mart in 6 months, and never intend on spending my money there ever again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My hair has never been dyed or permed.  It is like baby hair.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On Saturday mornings I try to drink an entire pot of coffee while watching the food network.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've had head lice.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If it were up to me, I would wear flip flops year round, even in a foot of snow.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;I, unlike Cheri, don't have as many blog friends, so I am going to tag &lt;a href="http://lifeonemomentatatime.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jess,&lt;/a&gt; my fellow Romanian pop star wannabe.   We'll see if she rejoins the land of the blogging.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2957817684306275074?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2957817684306275074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2957817684306275074' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2957817684306275074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2957817684306275074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/02/little-known-abi-facts.html' title='Little Known Abi Facts'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1524451794566855207</id><published>2008-02-03T12:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T12:19:59.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry</title><content type='html'>I am the proud foster-owner of a washer and dryer!  My friends are lending me their washer and dryer until they move somewhere with hookups.  Since my apartment has washer and dryer hookups, they asked me if I could keep them for a while.  Hmm, no question there!  I now can do laundry like a normal human.  What a blessing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1524451794566855207?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1524451794566855207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1524451794566855207' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1524451794566855207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1524451794566855207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/02/dirty-laundry.html' title='Dirty Laundry'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-1024297167479180491</id><published>2008-01-31T19:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T19:56:41.857-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Anniversary!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/knp9-GY6fHE' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/knp9-GY6fHE'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Anniversary Gramma and Grampa J!  Thanks for being great role models!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-1024297167479180491?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1024297167479180491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=1024297167479180491' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1024297167479180491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/1024297167479180491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-anniversary.html' title='Happy Anniversary!'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-11327061726579695</id><published>2008-01-31T10:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T10:38:20.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seasons Of Life</title><content type='html'>I lead our girl's Bible Study this week.  I talked about &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DejUPN4SksU"&gt;seasons&lt;/a&gt; of life and tried to challenge them to think about what season of life they are in, and what God is teaching them within that season.  I used season of singleness as an example, and had hoped that it would in turn encourage them to share their particular season and it's lessons or struggles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turned into a marriage advice seminar, not exactly what I was going for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do married people feel bad for us singletons?  I don't feel bad for myself, I really love my life and where I am.  I can spend my money how I choose, do what I want, stay up late, sleep in, leave my kitchen a mess if I feel like it; it's really great.  I am learning so much about myself as well, I wouldn't trade this season of life for the married season or really any other season at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I make other people feel uncomfortable because I am so comfortable with myself and my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In school news, we are enjoying another snow day (and this time it really snowed) and I am staying in.  We have conferences next week, that should be hectically busy.  I also was the lucky recipient of strep throat this past weekend, which allowed me to spend my weekend a combination of places, urgent care, the pharmacy, my bed and the couch.  Thanks to amoxicillin I am feeling much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-11327061726579695?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/11327061726579695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=11327061726579695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/11327061726579695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/11327061726579695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/seasons-of-life.html' title='Seasons Of Life'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4031009767932800801</id><published>2008-01-27T21:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T21:36:38.227-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Books You Should Read</title><content type='html'>I've been making a mental blog for the past few days.  I do that a lot, I come up with a blog in my mind, and usually forget to put it out there, so it's amazing I remembered this one.  It's not much, but just a short list of books I think you should read, for various reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Harry-Potter-Sorcerers-Stone-Book/dp/0439554934/ref=pd_bbs_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1201497844&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Harry Potter &lt;/a&gt;- whether or not you agree/disagree with the content, you should read this/these book(s).  They are well written, and my opinion is that if you are going to strongly disagree with something, you should at least know what you are disagreeing with and why.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Im-Stranger-Here-Myself-Returning/dp/076790382X/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1201497883&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;I'm A Stranger Here Myself&lt;/a&gt; - For anyone who has ever been overseas...Bill &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bryson's&lt;/span&gt; thoughts on returning to America.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/TwentySomeone-Finding-Yourself-Decade-Transition/dp/1578566959/ref=pd_bbs_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1201498063&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Twenty Someone&lt;/a&gt; - Transition...especially in your 20's.  Great perspective and thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Early-Bird-Memoir-Premature-Retirement/dp/B000R4FWG6/ref=pd_bbs_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1201497914&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Early Bird &lt;/a&gt;- Honestly, it's just a funny book.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Other-Peoples-Love-Letters-Never/dp/0307382648/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1201498398&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Other People's Love Letters &lt;/a&gt;- Reminds you of a time when someone saw the real you and loved you for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sold-My-Soul-eBay-Atheists/dp/1400073472/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1201497991&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;I Sold My Soul on eBay&lt;/a&gt; - Really interesting...ask my parents.  I read it while they were here visiting, and couldn't put it down.  It is written by an atheist, and is a lot of his perspectives about what is right and wrong about Christianity/organized religion in general.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Miraculous-Journey-Edward-Tulane/dp/0763639877/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1201498244&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane&lt;/a&gt; - Yes, another kid's book.  BUT...I have to say, this book gives me goose  bumps every time I read it, and is just a wonderful story about a rabbit who learns to love.  Similar in some ways to the Velveteen Rabbit, but better I think.  Children's books are much better written now than when I was a kid.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_b/103-7631987-0531010?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&amp;amp;field-keywords=marley+and+me&amp;amp;x=0&amp;amp;y=0"&gt;Marley and Me&lt;/a&gt; - If you only get one of these books to read from my list, this would be the one I recommend.  Read it with a box of Kleenex.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Read more, pretty much everything on TV (but the food network) is junk anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4031009767932800801?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4031009767932800801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4031009767932800801' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4031009767932800801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4031009767932800801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/books-you-should-read.html' title='Books You Should Read'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-6020367169235662804</id><published>2008-01-22T16:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T16:20:40.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's To Blindness</title><content type='html'>I had a nice long weekend.  I used it to do laundry, attend a friend's wedding, go to a movie and get an eye check up.  All in all it was fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told at my eye check up that I shouldn't be driving with my contacts, and was kindly given a new pair in my new (nearly blind) prescription.  I also decided to head on over to Target afterwards and get some new glasses, it had been about 4 years since my last pair, and I knew they were having a sale.  I've returned to my roots, buying a turquoise greenish pair, the same color as my first pair (that I picked out, thank you very much) that I got when I was 8.  Aren't they nice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R5aHrrndCcI/AAAAAAAAAHY/CgDtRlYpABA/s1600-h/glasses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R5aHrrndCcI/AAAAAAAAAHY/CgDtRlYpABA/s320/glasses.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158459607711812034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry to the angry masses that I have been delinquent in my blogginating.  I feel like I've hit a dry spell...any blogging ideas?  I am open for suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Abi/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-6020367169235662804?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6020367169235662804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=6020367169235662804' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6020367169235662804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/6020367169235662804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/heres-to-blindness.html' title='Here&apos;s To Blindness'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R5aHrrndCcI/AAAAAAAAAHY/CgDtRlYpABA/s72-c/glasses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-4378660387825545032</id><published>2008-01-10T15:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T15:25:40.248-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bilingualisms</title><content type='html'>The first person to correctly translate these "bilingualisms" that my students like to say, wins!  At least my admiration...sorry I don't have any real prizes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My tooth fell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She was yarning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ms. J, I won him!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of my job is trying to decipher what my kids really mean, and it's amazing I don't just start talking like them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-4378660387825545032?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4378660387825545032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=4378660387825545032' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4378660387825545032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/4378660387825545032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/bilingualisms.html' title='Bilingualisms'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-3788308848674174381</id><published>2008-01-02T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T19:57:56.415-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back To Work</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R3xdL7ndCbI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HM8Rj5I-z6c/s1600-h/Christmas+118.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R3xdL7ndCbI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HM8Rj5I-z6c/s320/Christmas+118.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151094533368121778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to work today, the kids come back tomorrow.  Oh, what joys I will have...I can already smell the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The picture is from my break at home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-3788308848674174381?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3788308848674174381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=3788308848674174381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3788308848674174381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/3788308848674174381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/back-to-work.html' title='Back To Work'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R3xdL7ndCbI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HM8Rj5I-z6c/s72-c/Christmas+118.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-5405306940588609360</id><published>2007-12-31T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T22:03:32.124-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goals for '08</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I don't make resolutions, I make goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008 Goals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Journal daily - I know this is ambitious, but I have it figured out.  Even if I only journal three sentences, I want to journal at least 1 thing I learned, 1 thing I am happy for and 1 question I have everyday.  I think it will be an interesting summary of 2008, and a good way to chronicle my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Roadtrip with the bro - Grand Canyon and beyond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go on an overseas trip, maybe a coffee trip.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;happy new year world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-5405306940588609360?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5405306940588609360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=5405306940588609360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5405306940588609360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/5405306940588609360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/goals-for-08.html' title='Goals for &apos;08'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-2685994793116198977</id><published>2007-12-20T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T18:39:52.014-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Most Wonderful Day of the Year</title><content type='html'>Today is the day when all the children went home to spend 2 quality weeks with their parents.  While we teachers roamed the hall with smiles from ear to ear, we passed panic stricken parents, who now get the joy of their children 24/7 for two weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-2685994793116198977?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2685994793116198977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=2685994793116198977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2685994793116198977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/2685994793116198977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/most-wonderful-day-of-year.html' title='The Most Wonderful Day of the Year'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8283125188174308091</id><published>2007-12-19T15:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T15:53:56.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Wonderful Christmastime</title><content type='html'>You might not know this, all you out there in blogger-land, but for many people Christmas is not at all enjoyable.  I think I always had this in the back of my mind, but I never really got it.  I would see the toy drives, and hear the people ringing bells for the Salvation Army, but those gifts and money would go to the invisible needy people somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got an email today from one of the social workers from our school saying she'd received a call from a parent who can't afford to buy her children Christmas gifts.  I can't imagine that feeling, and my heart breaks thinking about the parents who think about this same thing, not being able to supply a joyful Christmas for their families.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is a wonderful holiday, I have been blessed to grow up with a family who always was able to give one another gifts, and who always made Christmas a very joyful time, but now that I have faces to put on the people who aren't as blessed, my heart breaks.  Many of the students at our school don't look forward to Christmas break, and are excited to come back because school is the one thing that is consistent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, do I have $10 to spare to give to this family so they can have Christmas...sure.  It's one dinner I don't get to eat out with a friend, or one less little luxury this month.  So what?  My Christmas will be spent surrounded by family, with tables laden with goodies and a tree that has gifts that overflow;  I can afford to give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, pray for my Gramma J. tomorrow.  She's having a procedure done on her heart, and I know the Great Physician will be guiding the doctors as they work.  We love you Gramma!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R2mvALndCaI/AAAAAAAAAHE/B0aazaKPCyU/s1600-h/n63801247_30230662_5453.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R2mvALndCaI/AAAAAAAAAHE/B0aazaKPCyU/s320/n63801247_30230662_5453.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145836466900634018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8283125188174308091?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8283125188174308091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8283125188174308091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8283125188174308091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8283125188174308091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/wonderful-christmastime.html' title='A Wonderful Christmastime'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2eY63FL63Po/R2mvALndCaI/AAAAAAAAAHE/B0aazaKPCyU/s72-c/n63801247_30230662_5453.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-8630788292327638156</id><published>2007-12-16T11:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T11:20:54.858-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Glass Plates</title><content type='html'>I have glass plates, they are blue.  I like them, I don't love them...they do the job.  I will probably get some nicer dishes down the road, I used these ones in college, but for now they are fine.  I had a full set, 8 of everything...that is, until today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sundays I have time to cook, so I enjoy making a full meal so that I can take the leftovers for lunch during the week, or freeze them for later.  I feel so crazy during the week, so my dinners are usually not thought out like they are on Sundays.  Today I was going to have beef that I marinated overnight.  The recipe said to simmer it for over an hour the marinade and water.  When I got home from church I put the ingredients into a pot, put the pot on the stove, turned on the burner and walked into the other room.  I had turned the burner on high to bring it to a boil, then I was going to turn it down to a low simmer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in the other room when I heard glass shattering.  I went back into the kitchen, only to discover that I had accidentally turned on the wrong burner...I had turned on the burner that had a plate sitting on it.  There was blue glass all over my kitchen, seriously ALL OVER the kitchen.  It was in the cornbread that I had made this morning, it was in coffee mugs, it was in the clean dishes in the sink.  I even found some in the stove...how it got there I have no clue.  I didn't even know where to start cleaning up.  So, I gathered myself after panicking for a second (and being very thankful that I wasn't in the kitchen when the plate exploded...I value my eyesight), I began picking up big pieces, then smaller ones, then I vacuumed, then I swept, and finally I mopped.  What a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the moral of the story is that people with glass plates shouldn't put them on the stove, even if the burners are all off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-8630788292327638156?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8630788292327638156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=8630788292327638156' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8630788292327638156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/8630788292327638156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/glass-plates.html' title='Glass Plates'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31663131.post-867392582426601054</id><published>2007-12-11T18:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T18:44:42.721-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/LKLZxv6wA78' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/LKLZxv6wA78'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just a subtle hint in case you were wondering what to get me for Christmas.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31663131-867392582426601054?l=abisadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/867392582426601054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31663131&amp;postID=867392582426601054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/867392582426601054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31663131/posts/default/867392582426601054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abisadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-want-hippopotamus-for-christmas.html' title='I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas'/><author><name>Abi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17160438986636890874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
