<?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-5684192318819105400</id><updated>2011-07-28T14:05:41.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ROCK CHICKS</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-4314236219934597152</id><published>2009-11-27T15:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T15:23:26.775-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sir, Your Breath Stank...</title><content type='html'>My dad and I were in the kitchen cooking dinner together the other night. Yes, I was in the kitchen helping my dad make dinner (be amazed). My dad and I don’t do it very often, so it was a treat for us. Anyways, we were making spinach and artichoke dip to take to Kathy’s for thanksgiving. (A new recipe for me, but it was fun.) We were mixing all the ingredients when it was time to add the garlic, which has a very strong smell might I add. That’s when my sister called from the living room, “That smells good, what are you making?” I have to agree with her, garlic does smell good when it’s being cooked; And I know you have to agree with me when I say it taste good too.&lt;br /&gt;Allow me to refresh your memory. Imagine garlic bread in the oven. The smell of garlic and melting cheese wafting your way. Now imagine eating it. The toasted French bread, topped with melted butter and garlic, and the melted parmesan cheese on top of that (mm-mm good). Now imagine the smell of your breath after the ordeal. Yes, you read correctly, the smell of your breath.&lt;br /&gt;Now lets turn this around and look at sin. Yes, you read that correctly too. At times it looks like so much fun! I mean, the peer pressure is on when all your friends start talking about it and doing it. And remember, I’m not talking about one specific sin, I’m talking about all of them, even our little white lies. It can be so tempting, and in today’s society it’s everywhere, available, and acceptable. But not in God’s eyes. Hebrews 3:12, 13 says, “Beware, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief in departing form the living God; But exhort one another daily, while it is called today, lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin.” Sin is deceitful. There is no question about it. It may look appetizing now, but in the end, your breath is going to smell terrible. We need to remember that when we’re making ourselves look bad, we’re making God look bad too. And we all know how unattractive bad breath is. Romans 12:2 says, “And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.” This dark world needs a light. But if we’re scaring people away with our bad breath, how are they going to see the only perfect light that God is? I think it’s time to use a little mouthwash, and let our perfect, all-powerful, and awesome Dentist do some work on us.&lt;br /&gt;~ Taylor*&lt;br /&gt;P.S.- I have to give props to Tori and her stand on the twilight saga. Go Tori for keeping herself clean! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-4314236219934597152?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/4314236219934597152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=4314236219934597152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/4314236219934597152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/4314236219934597152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2009/11/sir-your-breath-stank.html' title='Sir, Your Breath Stank...'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-5876837834860349305</id><published>2009-08-04T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T17:30:37.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Roads</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;As I walk down this road with a weight on my back, it gets heavier as my pain and sorrow grow. I drag the chains attached to the shackles on my wrist, and with each step comes more pain as my bleeding feet search for relief only to step on searing coals. The snakes bite at my heels, as the sun beats down on me. I can not see. I think I am blind. I stumble and fall, just to rise again with this unbearable load and more pain than ever. I seek friendship and love only to be spat upon by those around me. My throat is dry, my tongue is swollen, as my thirst for water is grows. I'm starving, and exhausted. I feel as if I can't go on. I want to cry, but tears no longer come. I want to scream, but can no longer breathe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;As I stumble to my knees, I hear voices of those singing. How could they be so happy in the midst of all this misery? I look to my right, and there is another road where they are walking the other way. There was dancing, singing, and the sound of endless laughter on that road. They were full of joy. The burden was easy, and the yoke light. There was a river of love flowing. A fountain of peace. Their thirst was quenched, their hunger no more. Life everlasting hung about that road. But alas, the abyss that separated me from that road.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I got to my feet, and kept walking the wide but lonely road set before me. Heading straight for the great dark gate at the end of the way. O, how I long to be on that other road! How I long to be happy and ridden of this load! As I neared the gate, I could hear the screams of those suffering. I could smell the burning sulfur as the gate grew closer. Why can't I be on that other road?! Why can't I die now?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;As these fears clouded my mind, a man dressed in white approached me. He had holes in His hands and feet. His eyes were gentle, and His voice comforting as He spoke. "Come."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;"How Lord?" I said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;He replied, "I have made a way." He pointed to the road I had seen before, but now there was a bridge in the shape of a cross.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;As I turned onto that road, my burden was lifted, and my chains were gone as the shackles fell from me. The pain was no more, and joy filled my soul. I was forgiven and alive at last! The road was narrow, but I had family to walk along side me. My thirst was quenched as grace and love overflowed. I was energized and had a burning passion inside of me. I shouted and sang with fellow believers beside me, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty! Who was, and is, and is to come!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Once again, I looked to my right. To the road I had left. The road that others were still &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;walking...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;How then can they call upon the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to the? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;- Romans 10:14&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/5684192318819105400-5876837834860349305?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/5876837834860349305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=5876837834860349305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/5876837834860349305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/5876837834860349305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2009/08/two-roads.html' title='Two Roads'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-5761183011622989702</id><published>2009-07-17T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T20:37:14.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twinkies and Root Beer</title><content type='html'>A little boy wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of Root Beer and he started his journey.&lt;br /&gt;When he had gone about three blocks, he met an elderly man. The man was sitting in the park just feeding some pigeons.&lt;br /&gt;The boy sat down next to him and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the man looked hungry, so he offered him a Twinkie.&lt;br /&gt;The man gratefully accepted it and smiled at boy. His smile was so pleasant that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered him a root beer.&lt;br /&gt;Again, the man smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.&lt;br /&gt;As it grew dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave, but before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the man, and gave him a hug. The man gave him his biggest smile ever.&lt;br /&gt;When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, "What did you do today that made you so happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He replied, "I had lunch with God." But before his mother could respond, he added, "You know what? God's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the elderly man, also radiant with joy, returned to his home. His son was stunned by the look of peace on his face and he asked," Dad, what did you do today that made you so happy?"&lt;br /&gt;He replied, "I ate Twinkies in the park with God." However, before his son responded, he added," You know, he's much younger than I expected."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!&lt;br /&gt;~author unknown~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-5761183011622989702?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/5761183011622989702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=5761183011622989702' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/5761183011622989702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/5761183011622989702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2009/07/twinkies-and-root-beer.html' title='Twinkies and Root Beer'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-2163257418161952498</id><published>2009-03-18T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T12:47:20.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookies</title><content type='html'>I know, strange name for a post. You’ll get it by the end. Casey made cookies Saint Pattie's day to give to the people in assistant living, and so did Tori. When we went to Tori's to package the cookies, it struck me how different all the batches turned out. So yeah......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What defines a cookie?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScGrteF8qkI/AAAAAAAAAGg/9JsSexxVGqU/s1600-h/cookie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314717832934369858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScGrteF8qkI/AAAAAAAAAGg/9JsSexxVGqU/s320/cookie.jpg" 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;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its shape? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScGr-iboiQI/AAAAAAAAAGo/ks-cT0IkS-s/s1600-h/anzac_cookie_recipe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314718126156843266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScGr-iboiQI/AAAAAAAAAGo/ks-cT0IkS-s/s320/anzac_cookie_recipe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its size?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHB0RrXwjI/AAAAAAAAAGw/rFyOihD0oh0/s1600-h/sugar-cookie-slide_476x357.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314742139116569138" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHB0RrXwjI/AAAAAAAAAGw/rFyOihD0oh0/s320/sugar-cookie-slide_476x357.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its color?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHCpMEMWWI/AAAAAAAAAHA/BomYPRHwVrk/s1600-h/cookie_13_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314743048143133026" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 226px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHCpMEMWWI/AAAAAAAAAHA/BomYPRHwVrk/s320/cookie_13_large.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonsense, right?A cookie is a cookie, no matter what&lt;br /&gt;Shape,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHCLVRGKEI/AAAAAAAAAG4/GxjXFaHbO0g/s1600-h/darth-vader-cookie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314742535217096770" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHCLVRGKEI/AAAAAAAAAG4/GxjXFaHbO0g/s320/darth-vader-cookie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Size,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHDGMkHVFI/AAAAAAAAAHI/VUEtecMU5N4/s1600-h/IMG_9510%2520(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314743546493228114" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHDGMkHVFI/AAAAAAAAAHI/VUEtecMU5N4/s320/IMG_9510%2520(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or color. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHEHZT4iJI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/nWChOBR-Cns/s1600-h/5lb%2520cookies_sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314744666606307474" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHEHZT4iJI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/nWChOBR-Cns/s320/5lb%2520cookies_sm.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But each cookie has its own purpose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHHvXzDF1I/AAAAAAAAAHo/K6DagY1GLS8/s1600-h/DM1810~One-Tough-Cookie-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314748651929802578" style="WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHHvXzDF1I/AAAAAAAAAHo/K6DagY1GLS8/s320/DM1810~One-Tough-Cookie-Posters.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe it’s looks,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHGJAeBPII/AAAAAAAAAHY/hKaV4lKw1N0/s1600-h/shoes_cookies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314746893320928386" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHGJAeBPII/AAAAAAAAAHY/hKaV4lKw1N0/s320/shoes_cookies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or it just tastes good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHGX8CTX7I/AAAAAAAAAHg/gFsZalGZQL8/s1600-h/untitled7.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314747149828972466" style="WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHGX8CTX7I/AAAAAAAAAHg/gFsZalGZQL8/s320/untitled7.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whatever the case, cookies are always made to fulfill a certain purpose. No matter what shape, size, or color.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHH5sl_gqI/AAAAAAAAAHw/aAZxfnh-ZQM/s1600-h/cookies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314748829310878370" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHH5sl_gqI/AAAAAAAAAHw/aAZxfnh-ZQM/s320/cookies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now let’s take a look at Christians……&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHTOgyFxgI/AAAAAAAAAH4/rv0veRpPzJ8/s1600-h/christian-cross-01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314761281545553410" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHTOgyFxgI/AAAAAAAAAH4/rv0veRpPzJ8/s320/christian-cross-01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We come in all shapes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHTncrdTTI/AAAAAAAAAIA/W5Wpv4rqh30/s1600-h/ilam07h-full.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314761709940722994" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHTncrdTTI/AAAAAAAAAIA/W5Wpv4rqh30/s320/ilam07h-full.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sizes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHUc9RgczI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ElLtGZfTccI/s1600-h/welcome.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314762629223314226" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHUc9RgczI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ElLtGZfTccI/s320/welcome.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHVgyY5MhI/AAAAAAAAAIU/D7AGASWb5TA/s1600-h/12923_1924.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314763794532610578" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHVgyY5MhI/AAAAAAAAAIU/D7AGASWb5TA/s320/12923_1924.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colors,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHWY6a6MzI/AAAAAAAAAIc/zFFp8h4AIGQ/s1600-h/diversity.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314764758761222962" style="WIDTH: 296px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 296px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHWY6a6MzI/AAAAAAAAAIc/zFFp8h4AIGQ/s320/diversity.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ages,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHWsltKtwI/AAAAAAAAAIk/15vC2n9PVmU/s1600-h/iStock_000001475620Small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314765096798041858" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHWsltKtwI/AAAAAAAAAIk/15vC2n9PVmU/s320/iStock_000001475620Small.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And denominations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHWy0ruJMI/AAAAAAAAAIs/IpDLnK8MNpg/s1600-h/58207698_OLDCROSSONTOPOFCHURCH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314765203897722050" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 271px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHWy0ruJMI/AAAAAAAAAIs/IpDLnK8MNpg/s320/58207698_OLDCROSSONTOPOFCHURCH.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even with all of our differences, we are apart of the same body, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and we worship the one true God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHY9_xoygI/AAAAAAAAAI0/6YKxFNuiGeI/s1600-h/11196505.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314767594877143554" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHY9_xoygI/AAAAAAAAAI0/6YKxFNuiGeI/s320/11196505.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We learn more about Him in His number one best seller,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHZGJ0iTWI/AAAAAAAAAI8/WgnFPqE5rnI/s1600-h/Christian_Youth_Bible.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314767735012609378" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHZGJ0iTWI/AAAAAAAAAI8/WgnFPqE5rnI/s320/Christian_Youth_Bible.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pray to Him,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHZdcUqmYI/AAAAAAAAAJE/IpYFjV50Qsk/s1600-h/prayer12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314768135116200322" style="WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHZdcUqmYI/AAAAAAAAAJE/IpYFjV50Qsk/s320/prayer12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And believe in Him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHZphb32sI/AAAAAAAAAJM/_4VWtxKWNd0/s1600-h/r0011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314768342647036610" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHZphb32sI/AAAAAAAAAJM/_4VWtxKWNd0/s320/r0011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can you imagine how boring it would be if we were all the same, like we were a bunch of robots?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHfuAVEsOI/AAAAAAAAAJc/WQ2kKSSIXl0/s1600-h/untitled8.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314775016729260258" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHfuAVEsOI/AAAAAAAAAJc/WQ2kKSSIXl0/s320/untitled8.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;God Made us different on purpose, But He wants us to use our differences to glorify Him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHdvFfTY1I/AAAAAAAAAJU/E1jHymEvJio/s1600-h/Logo_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314772836270957394" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 251px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScHdvFfTY1I/AAAAAAAAAJU/E1jHymEvJio/s320/Logo_lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Ephesians 3:10 says, 'His intent was that now, through the church, the manifold wisdom of God should be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms.....' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't see him mentioning any specific denomination, did you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, just as it said there, the manifold wisdom of God &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;should be made known&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; So lets get going cookies! Err... I mean.... Church.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/5684192318819105400-2163257418161952498?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/2163257418161952498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=2163257418161952498' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/2163257418161952498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/2163257418161952498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2009/03/cookies.html' title='Cookies'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/ScGrteF8qkI/AAAAAAAAAGg/9JsSexxVGqU/s72-c/cookie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-7532414200929936741</id><published>2009-01-24T01:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T02:23:00.047-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SAY WHAT!!!</title><content type='html'>Alright, this one is kind of scary, but one of the most amazing things I think has ever happened to me. Anyways, I was working Thursday. I wasn't having a very good day, so I was kind of looking forward to closing. But five minutes to closing, two big groups of people came in (grr). So instead of sweeping and getting ready to close up, I was back in the kitchen doing dishes. So here I am, totally ticked off, and totally angry at the world. I mean, really angry. That's when a voice, clear as day, and louder than my own thoughts, yelled at me, in the back of my head, and said, "WHY ARE YOU BEING SO NEGATIVE!" That one sent chills down my spine. It was like God had just hit me over the head with the frying pan I was washing. But in that moment, it made me stop (I mean, it literally made me freeze right where I was) and think. That's when I realized that I had so much to be thankful for! And I was sitting there pouting? I had to take a moment to thank God, and apologize. Immediately after that (literally), my day brightened up. I realized how great the day was actually going. By the end of Thursday, I was amazed at how great my day was. I had to thank God again. So I wanted to say, no mater how bad it seems your day is going today, look for the little blessings, and maybe you'll see that they were the big ones. God Bess!&lt;br /&gt;- Taylor*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-7532414200929936741?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/7532414200929936741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=7532414200929936741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/7532414200929936741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/7532414200929936741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2009/01/say-what.html' title='SAY WHAT!!!'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-7176231743931620998</id><published>2009-01-08T20:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T02:28:35.302-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Bit More Than Smoldering</title><content type='html'>My sister and I couldn’t be more opposite when it comes to weather. She loves it cold, and I love it hot. So it would be no surprise that while Casey and Connor were out playing in the snow, I was sitting next to a nice comfy fire… O yes, just me, my fuzzy slippers, a book, in a comfy chair, next to a nice roaring fire. But starting a fire isn’t easy (that’s why we let our dad do it). So once Poppa has it started, we have to keep it going. Periodically throwing a log on it, or fetching firewood from outside (in the nasty cold). So if you neglect it, it begins to smolder, die out, and get cold. Now here’s my question: What fire are you feeding on the inside? Are you feeding hatred, bitterness, or selfishness? Or do you feed love, forgiveness, kindness? How much time do you take to read God’s word, or pray to Him? It all comes back down to the heart issue. When you read the Bible, you're feeding that fire in your heart. When you neglect your fire, well, it smolders and begins to die. Thankfully God doesn't forget us even when we forget Him, and it just takes one step to get back to Him. I like to think of Him as the one who starts the fire and helps us keep it going. God could have made us like robots, but he didn't! It's our choice to worship Him or not. In other words, we have to step aside (take the time) to let Him throw the log on it. Lets pray that our heavenly Poppa keeps our fire alive! Lets stay in His word, and keep praying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Taylor*&lt;br /&gt;Ephesians 5:13-20 But everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for it is light that makes everything visible. This is why it is said: "Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." Be very careful, then, how you live - not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is. Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead be filled with the spirit. Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-7176231743931620998?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/7176231743931620998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=7176231743931620998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/7176231743931620998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/7176231743931620998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2009/01/little-bit-more-than-smoldering.html' title='A Little Bit More Than Smoldering'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-8131671530739990546</id><published>2008-10-16T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T14:21:17.229-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forts and Lawn Mowers</title><content type='html'>Another work day. It was going kind of slow, so it was a little boring,  and here I was caught up and ahead on everything. That's when Pete showed up with Luke. The first thing Luke did when he came in was run to the kitchen, grabbed me by the hand, and started to pull me outside (It was pretty funny). That's when Pete said, " Hey Luke, why don't you go show her your fort."  (Fort?) So Luke dragged me all the way outside to this little corner in the garden where there was a medium sized rose bush. Behind the rose bush was hollowed out, and trimmed back for a cool little hiding spot. So we spent the next half an hour in this little fort. I tried to get him out of his little chair to play ball outside of it, but he didn't want to come out. So we just sat there with a couple of cars. Now at the same time the neighbor had been mowing his lawn. So when he finally made it to the side of the yard that we were on, Luke jumped up from his seat and ran away from the fort as fast and far as he could go! Pete was coming out right then, so when he saw Luke running he just laughed. Now there was a fence between the fort and the lawn mower, but Luke didn't want to go back in for the rest of the day! It's the same way with our christian walks. We get so afraid of people, friends and family. We're afraid of being rejected. To the point that we're looking ridiculous, like a toddler running away from a loud noise! God put us on this earth to share the good news. Not to run away at the first sight of trouble. People in other countries get killed for sharing His word with others. Why have we become so comfortable? So many people don't know Jesus and are going to hell, and we don't want to take the risk of losing a little "popularity"? Think about it. If everyone in America got out of there little comfy chairs, started praying and sharing the good news. I can't even begin to describe the amazing things that could happen! You don't have to go to another country to do a missions trip. Your missions trip starts as soon as you walk out your door. Lets stop being so afraid all the time, and start getting out of our comfort zone. God said that he would be with us to the very end of the age! So what do we have to be afraid of when God is on our side?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Taylor*&lt;br /&gt;(I'd encourage you to read all of chapter 17) 1 Samuel 17:45-47 David said to the Philistine, " You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will hand you over to me, and I'll strike you down and cut off your head. Today I will give the carcasses of the philistine army to the birds of the air and the beasts of the earth, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord's, and He will give all of you into our hands."&lt;br /&gt;*Bonus Verse* - Mathew 28:19, 20  ".....Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-8131671530739990546?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/8131671530739990546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=8131671530739990546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/8131671530739990546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/8131671530739990546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2008/10/forts-and-lawn-mowers.html' title='Forts and Lawn Mowers'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-4092003275321954112</id><published>2008-05-15T23:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T11:26:55.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Times The 2 Year Old Knows Better.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today, while me and Luke were outside, we (he) decided to go for a walk around the block. As we were going along, Luke wold stop at every door along Main Street. First he would try the door nob (which just so happened to be locked every time), and then he would play on the (one) step that would happen to be in front of the door. At one particular spot there isn't a step, just a little slope. So he would stop, run up to the door, then run back down, with a big smile on his face while yelling, "WEE!!!" At first I was like, "what on earth are you doing?" But after the fist two times, I joined in, "WOO-HOO!!!" I found myself laughing with him. (Who ever new running up and down a four foot slope could be so fun???) After a while we continued down the street, came to the corner (finally), and continued down the next street. As we walked along, we had to stop at every cool car (as Luke would put it), to look at the doors and tires. Then we came to an overgrown tree. The branches were hanging over just enough to touch the ground, and there just happened to be a telephone pole about four feet away. So, Luke would run through the tree branches, around the telephone pole, and back through the branches again (for about ten minutes). When we finally continued along, we reached the next corner. Around this corner were a bunch of flowers, so we stopped to smell all the flowers (most of them were different verities of roses). When we made our way to the next corner, there were a bunch of old houses. They all had beautiful gardens and lots of trees (they had beautiful yards). Luke and I walked along slowly just admiring them. When we were almost to the corner, we crossed the street (Luke was pretty sure there was something cool over there). It turned out he was right! We sat there for about ten minutes, with a duck! At fist Luke was afraid of it (like his mom and birds), but he got over it quickly. When we started to leave, the duck followed us across the fence line for as long as it could (it was so cute)! We then crossed the street again, and turned that final corner. As we came up to the cafe, Luke was getting pretty thirsty. So we went in to get him a drink. As I walked in , Laura asked if I could stay a little longer. I looked up at the clock, and it was ten minutes past four! Luke and I had been gone for an hour and ten minutes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite often we rush through our lives, always hurrying to the next thing, and by the end of the day, we realise it's the end of the day. Today just flew by us again. They say slow and steady wins the race, I never realized how true it could be in life too. If we had just took a quick walk around the same old block, how much would we have missed? We need to learn to enjoy ourselves, and to enjoy the simple things in life!!! We don't need everything to be big to enjoy it! This life is short, and we never know when we'll take our last breath. I'm not saying lolly-gag on everything (we don't want to be lazy), but slow down when you have the time. Just to enjoy living another day. Learn to be joyful with the simple things in life, and you'll be able to be joyful with the big things! If we needed everything to be big to enjoy it, imagine how miserable we'd be (not to mention how miserable you'd make everyone around you). We just need to learn to take our time to smell the flowers, and have a little fun every once in a while!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;- Taylor*&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 16:11 You lead me in the path of life;&lt;br /&gt;I experience absolute joy in your presence;&lt;br /&gt;you always give me sheer delight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-4092003275321954112?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/4092003275321954112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=4092003275321954112' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/4092003275321954112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/4092003275321954112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2008/05/slow-down-my-legs-arent-that-long.html' title='Some Times The 2 Year Old Knows Better.....'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-6506580480124561791</id><published>2008-05-09T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T11:46:18.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feathers and Flies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;It was so busy today! It seemed the second one person walked out, two more walked in. in other words, the door was open all day. Which let (you guessed it) flies in. So here we are swatting flies all day (flies are SO obnoxious), which meant we were continually washing our hands (all day). Which leads to running out of paper towels. So Brandi went into the office to get some more paper towels. When she came back she not only didn't have any paper towels, but she looked horrified..... She came in, and in an exasperated tone of voice said, "THERE'S A BIRD IN THE OFFICE!!!" Now, I don't know you know anyone who's afraid of birds, but I'll tell you right now, Brandi is one of them..... Which makes no sense at all considering the animals she has had, and loves to have ( snakes, lizards, dogs, and she especially likes rats). To our luck Stewart was there, so he walked back into the office, caught the bird, and put it outside in less then ten seconds! I guess he was raised on a chicken farm, so he knows his birds. Moral of the story, leave a few doors open, and Satan can get in (very easily). Sure, may just be a few flies here and there, but pretty soon it becomes really big scary birds! A few examples could be secular music. Listening to it your like, "Oh, it's no big deal." But pretty soon, as those words keep turning in your head, it isn't just a song anymore, it's the way you act out on things in real life. So before you know it, those flies have turned into birds. Another one is white lies. They may be small now, but they will keep getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger, to the point that you're trapped in the corner by an ostrich! My point is, is that people will see you for the things you do! Which means Satan will use the doors you left open to bring you down, and bring Christ' name down with you. We have to remember that we are God's witnesses. So my challenge is this, &lt;strong&gt;SHUT THOSE DOORS!&lt;/strong&gt; Keep Christ in, and Satan out. No, we're not going to be perfect, but we can &lt;strong&gt;try&lt;/strong&gt; to keep the flies out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;- Taylor* &lt;strong&gt;James 1:14-18&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But each one is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desires. Then when desire conceives, it gives birth to sin, and when sin is full grown, it gives birth to death. Do not be led astray, my dear brothers and sisters. All generous giving and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or the slightest hint of change. By his sovereign plan he gave us birth through the message of truth, that we would be a kind of firstfruits of all he created.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-6506580480124561791?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/6506580480124561791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=6506580480124561791' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/6506580480124561791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/6506580480124561791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2008/05/feathers-and-flies.html' title='Feathers and Flies'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-5225439382593305721</id><published>2008-05-09T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T16:38:36.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Modest is Hottest (Sorry Guys, This One's For The Ladies;-)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;It was five minutes after closing when Morgan walked in. I guess Laura was taking her to cheer practice soon. Anyways...... Denise was finishing up his coffee, so as soon as he left we could start cleaning up, and Morgan could get to cheer practice. As they were talking, Laura told him that she had to take Morgan to cheer. At this point he (Denise) asked if they were going home first, so Morgan could change into clothes that weren't so tight! That's when I realised that dressing modestly doesn't just protect us, it's also courteous to the men around us. We (girls) don't usually to pay attention to how low our neckline is, or how tight our pants are. We just think the outfit is cute and comfortable. But guys minds are built differently, they are more visual. So when we wear clothes like that, we might as well be walking around in our underwear! I'm not saying wear big old baggy sweatpants everywhere you go! But dress more modestly. If your chest hangs out when you bend over the neckline is to low!!! If your butt talks while you walk, your pants are way to tight!!! Take some time (before you walk outside) to bend over in front of a mirror, and make sure that you're being modest! We (girls) all want to be pretty and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;attractive&lt;/span&gt;, but dressing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;skanky&lt;/span&gt; isn't going to do that. I mean, lets face it, we don't want to scare old men away, and we definitely don't want to attract perverts! So lets keep it clean!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;- Taylor* 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 Do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price. Therefore glorify God with your body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-5225439382593305721?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/5225439382593305721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=5225439382593305721' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/5225439382593305721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/5225439382593305721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2008/05/modest-is-hottest-sorry-guys-this-ones.html' title='Modest is Hottest (Sorry Guys, This One&apos;s For The Ladies;-)'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-7994181634890546983</id><published>2008-04-23T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T16:38:54.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Burn My Burger!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;While I was working today, a man came in wanting a burger. He ordered it rare, then went out and sat in the garden. So (as usual) Laura went out to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;barbecue&lt;/span&gt; to cook the burger. As she was cooking the burger the grill started to flame up (as usual), and the man started yelling at her, "RARE, I SAID RARE!!!" (not so usual)I was surprised Laura didn't yell back "I know what I'm doing, I've been doing this for years!!!" Although when the man came in later Laura asked him, "Was it rare enough for you?" and (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;of course&lt;/span&gt;) it was. Yes, I'm a visual learner, so I love it when God reveals something to me... Anyways, I realised that I do the same thing. Sometimes I'm sitting there saying, "God, This wasn't apart of the plan!" But God is sitting there saying, "Yes it is, I've been doing this for years, and it's all going to work out the way I planned." Sometimes we need to just shut our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mouths&lt;/span&gt;, and trust God to cook the burger. I mean, He has been doing it for years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;- Taylor* Isaiah 55:11 In the same way, the promise that I make&lt;br /&gt;does not return to me, having accomplished nothing.&lt;br /&gt;No, it is realized as I desire and is fulfilled as I intend." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-7994181634890546983?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/7994181634890546983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=7994181634890546983' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/7994181634890546983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/7994181634890546983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2008/04/dont-burn-my-burger.html' title='Don&apos;t Burn My Burger!!!'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-2007226528619274739</id><published>2008-04-23T16:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T16:39:18.534-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Work</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;As usual, I went to work today. Went to do dishes, AND MY SPONGE WAS GONE!!! Yes, this is no big deal right up till I had to use the NEW sponge. This sponge &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; bend the way I wanted it too, it was too stiff, and it was (just plain) hard to use! It took twice as long to do the dishes! At this point I wanted my old sponge back (understandably). BUT WHAT COULD I DO!!! It's not like I could go dumpster diving to find it covered in bacon grease, Welshes grape jam, butter, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;syrup&lt;/span&gt;, yogurt, rotten fruit, cream cheese, ketchup, and eggs (don't ask how I know this)..... Just kidding. But as time went on, it (the sponge) got easier to use! That's when I realized people are the same way! NO I'M NOT KIDDING. We quite often make it hard for God to use us. How is He going to use us for His plan if we don't let Him bend us the way he wants us to. Don't get me wrong, this won't happen in one day. But don't worry, we'll all get there one day. It takes time and patience, but in the end it's worth it! Just ask the sponge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;- Taylor* Do not be conformed to this present world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may test and approve what is the will of God — what is good and well-pleasing and perfect. - Romans 12:2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-2007226528619274739?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/2007226528619274739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=2007226528619274739' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/2007226528619274739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/2007226528619274739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2008/04/just-work.html' title='Just Work'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-1548546056028779619</id><published>2008-04-06T16:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T16:41:41.735-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Horton Hears A Who"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Hey! I went to the movie theater last night with Bethany. But there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; wasn't anything to see (as usual). So we went and saw "Horton Hears A Who", and it turned out better than I thought it would! It was hilarious, and the storyline was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pretty&lt;/span&gt; good too. I have to say that my favorite part is when the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mayer&lt;/span&gt; decide to&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;trust in what he doesn't see&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I also like the fact that the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mayer&lt;/span&gt; was willing to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;stand up for what he believed in&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; under &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;persecution&lt;/span&gt;. Sound &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;familiar&lt;/span&gt;? It reminds me of our everyday christian walks with God. To believe in what we can't see, and to stand up for what we believe in,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;EVEN WHEN IT HURTS!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Mayer&lt;/span&gt; made a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;difference&lt;/span&gt; in that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;ONE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;small town. How much bigger difference can&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; make in this whole&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;WORLD!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;all of us stood up for&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHAT WE BELIEVED IN&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; and&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;TRUSTED IN THE ONE LIVING GOD TO MAKE A CHANGE!!!!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I don't know about you, but I think it's time for a change. I hope &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;y'all&lt;/span&gt; go see it too, cause it was a cool movie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Taylor&lt;/span&gt;* Mathew 28:19 Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-1548546056028779619?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/1548546056028779619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=1548546056028779619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/1548546056028779619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/1548546056028779619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2008/04/horton-hears-who.html' title='&quot;Horton Hears A Who&quot;'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-1535270430090053335</id><published>2008-04-06T16:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T16:42:04.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How To Make A Cheap Date Look Good ; - )</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;HEY!!! It's my mom and dad's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;anniversary&lt;/span&gt; today!!! So since we don't have very much money right now, he took her to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/span&gt;...... Here's the twist!!! Before church, we got a bunch of stuff together (silverware, plastic wine glasses, a nice tablecloth, candle, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Martenelles&lt;/span&gt;, and my guitar). After church, we had some friends drop us of at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/span&gt;. (Here's the fun part ;-D) We set up the tablecloth on one of the table's, with the candle, the silverware (on a napkin), and a (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;decorative&lt;/span&gt;) bucket with water in it (for the flowers he was bringing). My brother and sister were the waiter and waitress. So they took there orders, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;pored&lt;/span&gt; some of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;martenelle's&lt;/span&gt; in there cups, got there drinks, ordered there food, and brought it to them!!! My dad had me play (romantic) music in the background. BUT GET THIS!!! My mom had no idea we were going to do that, so it was a total surprise for her!!! Yes, it was a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt; in front of ALL those people. But it was fun, and worth it in the end!!! Anyways..... I would post pictures if I had them, but I don't. Had to tell &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;yuh&lt;/span&gt; "how to make a cheap date look good", so I guess that's it, see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;yuh&lt;/span&gt; later!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Taylor&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/5684192318819105400-1535270430090053335?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/1535270430090053335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=1535270430090053335' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/1535270430090053335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/1535270430090053335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2008/04/how-to-make-cheap-date-look-good.html' title='How To Make A Cheap Date Look Good ; - )'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-703587595675296985</id><published>2008-04-05T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T17:07:38.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Or More</title><content type='html'>I went to this free concert in the park yesterday with the youth group, and it was awsome!!!!!! (Except I was the only one dancing from our youth group). BUT IT WAS SO FUN!!!!! You should see there Myspace @ &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.come/twoormore"&gt;www.myspace.come/twoormore&lt;/a&gt;. I got to talk to the guitarist afterwards and he was realy cool (the drumer was signing drum sticks;-). Oh, GTG, BYE!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-703587595675296985?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/703587595675296985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=703587595675296985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/703587595675296985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/703587595675296985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2008/04/two-or-more.html' title='Two Or More'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5684192318819105400.post-7614279271866140256</id><published>2008-04-05T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T15:19:24.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a DAY!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I can get on the computer now that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;finished&lt;/span&gt; the dishes. So I just had to say..... I PAST MY DRIVERS TEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We couldn't miss more than 8 (I thought I missed more than that, but I didn't :-), so I past the test!!! BTW, did I mention it's a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt;?! I had to get up at FIVE IN THE MORNING to get ready for drivers ed., I had to be there at 7:15, and he (the teacher) didn't get there till 7:30 (How &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;annoying&lt;/span&gt; is that). So after five hours (of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;quizzes&lt;/span&gt;, short videos, and the final test), I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt; pasted!!!!! I guess I still have to do simulators though (aw dang). But I'm almost done. I've made a couple new friends in drivers ed. (pretty cool). Anyways, I'm excited, so I had to tell &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;y'all&lt;/span&gt;.... I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;GTG&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm going out with Bethany tonight&lt;/span&gt;...... BYE!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- Taylor*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5684192318819105400-7614279271866140256?l=rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/feeds/7614279271866140256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5684192318819105400&amp;postID=7614279271866140256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/7614279271866140256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5684192318819105400/posts/default/7614279271866140256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rockchicksblogg.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-day.html' title='What a DAY!!!!!'/><author><name>Taylor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10762105804085334573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bxT-Z5m-Gvg/SXrSFYEqa2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/5C6-gRs5Ao8/S220/Untitled5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
