tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728979270423461432024-03-21T21:49:15.873-05:00Shellie Sells SeashellsCamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-69205019504065856102017-08-15T21:56:00.000-05:002017-08-15T21:56:21.421-05:00My Husband is my Captain<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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My husband and I ride a tandem bicycle.
He is my captain and I am his stoker. He does the hard part of
cycling—steering, shifting, deciding when to cross roads, and how
fast (or slow) we should pedal. My job is to pedal as he needs me to
and stay balanced and trust him to be the Captain...and enjoy the
ride. But here's the thing: if I don't trust him—if I'm
constantly trying to see around him or steer for myself or trying to
set the cadence of our pedaling—we ARE going to crash, no matter
how great a cyclist my captain is.</div>
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But I do trust my husband. I trust
that he has my best interests in mind with every decision he makes
while we are on the bike and also in our everyday life. I know that
he will shift the gears to make our pedaling more efficient and
therefore less fatiguing. I know that he will never put me in danger
on the road. I know that he will steer in a predictable, steady
manner. He goes above and beyond that, though. He warns me when
there's a bump in the road ahead and when he's going to turn or stop.
He reminds me to drink and take in calories during the ride so I
don't get overly tired.</div>
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</div>
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He also challenges me. To go harder,
to go faster, to go farther, to get stronger. He pushes me just past
where I want to give up. Sometimes, though, he has to tell me that
I'm working too hard; that I need to coast for a little bit or at
least pedal softer—to conserve my energy for the rest of the ride.
When we started riding together, I could barely ride ten
miles – last weekend, we rode 65 miles on a Sunday night. In late
September we will do a two day charity ride that has us ride 100
miles on the first day.</div>
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</div>
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I have had friends tell me they could
never ride behind their husbands. They don't trust their husbands
enough to let him make those decisions. Sometimes I wonder why a
friend doesn't trust her husband to do what is not only best for her
but also best for him? I know that no human relationships can be
perfect, but he is also on the bike with her—surely that should
count for something.</div>
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Aren't we all like that with God,
though? We trust him with a lot of things in our lives...but not
others. We try to steer from the back and somehow, we're surprised
when we crash. It's like we don't think He has our best interests in
mind; like we don't trust the direction He's steering us or the pace
He's moving us. We may be challenged. We may be faced with harder
work than we want to do. We may be on a more difficult route than we
would choose for ourselves. We probably feel pushed just beyond our
comfort level. But He is our Captain. We can trust Him. He has our
Best in mind.</div>
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</div>
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Trust your Captain, keep pedaling, stay
balanced, enjoy the ride!</div>
CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-81888688739928336272014-11-25T15:02:00.001-06:002014-11-25T15:02:01.609-06:00<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/13232333/?claim=hknqh6scyrb">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-89565078936158618042013-10-21T18:12:00.000-05:002013-10-21T18:19:11.481-05:00Not Really a Writer.I promised my girls that I would participate in <a href="http://www.nanowrimo.org/">NaNoWriMo</a> with them this year...if, I could come up with an idea. Well. I had an idea, announced to them that I would do it and set about trying to plan it. But, what I have discovered is that writing is easy for me -- if I know what I am supposed to be writing. For example, in high school, I participated in a lot of writing contests where the participants are given a topic and a time limit. I almost always got first place in those. With the exception of one time, I placed in the top three.
<br />
<br />
I don't say those things to brag. In fact, I find it to be a huge failing on my part--and though I would like to be a total American of the 21st century and blame it on my English teachers in high school or that I went to a public school...I know it has a lot more to do with something in me. Or rather, not in me. <br />
<br />
Writing something that comes from my own head is hard work for me. And I am lazy. (as this blog shows rather clearly.) God gave me a good memory and regurgitating facts is easy for me, which is why I did (and still do) well if I am given an assignment. But I have to work hard to write without one.
<br />
<br />
This summer, I rode a bicycle in a charity event that was longer than I even like to drive. But I didn't just jump on the bicycle and ride it the whole way the day I decided to do it. It took months of preparation. The first time I rode this summer, I could barely make 9 miles. I need to approach writing for myself the same way, I think. And though I have much less time to prepare for it (10 days! Eeek!), I know that training pays off.
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<br />
So, this was my first writing work-out. Now to go write up a character sketch and ask my protagonist what she wants. I think her name might be "Mercy."CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-28992165615130557442011-05-27T11:25:00.002-05:002011-05-27T11:36:11.478-05:00Good MorningThis morning, while I was reading quietly, Cricket woke up, sat up and smiled at me...I mean smiled at the book on the end of the bed. After she had looked at it for a few minutes, Alligator came in (he's 3 now!) and asked Cricket if she would like him to read that to her. In the back of my mind, I was a little annoyed. I mean, I was trying to read while it was still quiet in the house--and now I had two very young children in the room with me!<br /><br />But then...<br /><br />...his sweet voice quoting every word, every inflection, from the many times big sisters or I had read that same book to him...<br /><br />...his admonition to his little sister to be gentle with books...<br /><br />What if I had sent him away? After all, he was interupting my quiet time. What if I had rejected the blessing of this child? After all, he was the ninth! Who needs/can afford/has the patience for NINE children? (Not me!!) What other blessings do I miss because I'm too busy or too annoyed or too...<br /><br />What do you miss?CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-3391186396433042852011-03-02T11:55:00.002-06:002011-03-02T12:01:05.646-06:00What would you take?A few weeks ago, one of my girls asked me, “If you had thirty minutes to pack up and leave, what would you take?” A theoretical, thought maker at the time; yesterday, we had the opportunity to practice that scenario. Around 3:30, we noticed a gigantic column of smoke to our west. The wind was blowing east. How far away was it, we wondered. If it was close enough to worry about, surely we would be able to smell it. (No.) If it was far enough away that we didn’t need to prepare for the worst, it must be enormous! I sent a message to CamDad (who works about 40 miles away from our home) and he replied that he could see it from his office window. That worried me. Then the helicopters started flying over our house. I went next door to talk to Nana. She was on her way out to talk to me—she had seen us standing in the yard, looking into the sun, into the wind. We went into her house to see if the news was saying anything. It was. A neighbor sped down the road to tell us she had just come from town and had passed the fire, the fire trucks…it was less than a mile away and she was going back home to start loading valuables in her car (the oxygen tanks her husband needs, meds, cats). Nana and I looked at each other, nodded. She said, “I’m calling <Papa>.” I came home to start our preparations. Did the children even have shoes on? Within 30 minutes, we had loaded up our van and were prepared to evacuate, should the need arise.<br /><br />It did not—at 7:30 there was no more smoke. We made some scrambled eggs for dinner and went to bed. Thank you LORD, please bless the (mostly volunteer!!) firefighters who worked so hard to extinguish the flames and protect lives and property.<br /><br />So—what did we load into our van? The (rather small) box of photos in my closet…the laptops with digital photos and the school records…a change of clothing for each person, diapers…the seeds I had laying next to my computer as I was planning garden layout. My children each grabbed the things precious to them: a journal, a doll, a musical instrument…the tiny apple trees sprouted from the apples from Papa’s home town. We also loaded up school books and supplies. Had there been more time and more space I would have wanted the blankets I made for each of my babies…the tool box Grampa built…the desk Grandma had inherited…<br /><br />People and Memories. The important stuff. Everything else can go now.<br /><br />A lot of times our Spiritual lives are like that, too. We fill them up with all the good stuff we think we should do, so full that we can’t find the important stuff…so full that we spend all of our time dealing with the good stuff…so full that the important stuff gets packed away in a box, stuffed in a closet.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">1Corinthians 11-15 The foundation that has already been laid is Jesus Christ, and no one can lay down any other foundation. But if people build on that foundation, using gold, silver, jewels, wood, grass, or straw, their work will be clearly seen, because the Day of Judgment will make it visible. That Day will appear with fire, and the fire will test everyone's work to show what sort of work it was. If the building that has been put on the foundation still stands, the builder will get a reward. But if the building is burned up, the builder will suffer loss. The builder will be saved, but it will be as one who escaped from a fire.</span><br /><br />What will you take with you?CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-29762098968683857542010-07-13T20:35:00.005-05:002010-07-13T20:43:52.262-05:00Frog needed a bike...oh, sorry...wrong story. ;-)<br /><br />Frog got a bike on Saturday for his birthday. This is the Monday after he got it.<br /><br />I'm impressed (but I'm the mom, so that's to be expected)!<br /><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ibqp67suwec&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ibqp67suwec&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-79457561962046468432010-04-16T21:06:00.003-05:002010-04-16T21:39:26.548-05:00Nothing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBNOtSljWwvzo7nk3Cd8TVE0bgq51XyWcdrXRTNVE-IaoY6-YkuDrPk9xj1VYEeHTjWzcuu9Pz_wENqAM3F5AD5imQdiHDyAfld6PHBizUc2yINe1_S4-f8_HgyEuEyMJ9Hh1gOWa6Yzzr/s1600/DSCN0402.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBNOtSljWwvzo7nk3Cd8TVE0bgq51XyWcdrXRTNVE-IaoY6-YkuDrPk9xj1VYEeHTjWzcuu9Pz_wENqAM3F5AD5imQdiHDyAfld6PHBizUc2yINe1_S4-f8_HgyEuEyMJ9Hh1gOWa6Yzzr/s400/DSCN0402.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460924352420457106" /></a><br />Nothing really to say...just wanted to post this picture. :o)<div><br /></div><div>My children randomly pick up the camera and walk around shooting each other --or trying to avoid getting captured by the camera...until they get cheesy and pose. That's our Bee!</div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-26529634564336807192010-02-06T14:48:00.005-06:002010-02-06T14:55:38.618-06:00Due date? Delivery!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCNOAJzIV4aw-SSEkfV7tatd0tBZSAzDS2aT4v9PBcCVPCHifyBR1U7WJjPQiLmLcO8pXraJEfE0NxzKWH2lXoYIBlqgP4EngFWXqVIn0VIPBeR7eeeHemidWBsVV8NtPjZq3IgR7lQ28/s1600-h/Sarah,+day+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCNOAJzIV4aw-SSEkfV7tatd0tBZSAzDS2aT4v9PBcCVPCHifyBR1U7WJjPQiLmLcO8pXraJEfE0NxzKWH2lXoYIBlqgP4EngFWXqVIn0VIPBeR7eeeHemidWBsVV8NtPjZq3IgR7lQ28/s320/Sarah,+day+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435235867438749394" border="0" /></a><br />Here she is...about 27 hours old. :o) She weighed 7 pounds, 13 ounces and was 22 inches long. Our little Cricket is a great nurser and very content. All her brothers and sisters love to look at her (although mom is a little selfish right now and hasn't let anyone hold her!). Later today we will start letting them hold her and will be sure to get a picture of 'Gator holding her for a size comparison.CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-51083680858923645252010-02-01T17:39:00.002-06:002010-02-01T19:09:03.558-06:00Baby Bump!<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAE0Vxx58YOYkv1vOIv50e_gsVfVuO0tD1EjPRaja8MIsXeovvTqgFnBin1FKHg5Adv20MclakQV8ZhTA18Gpu3dI8ojN3v9dg_F6rkayuPn3mM25zz6TI0u7zAzVyj9Hkt3Umxdrhk56/s1600-h/still+inside+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAE0Vxx58YOYkv1vOIv50e_gsVfVuO0tD1EjPRaja8MIsXeovvTqgFnBin1FKHg5Adv20MclakQV8ZhTA18Gpu3dI8ojN3v9dg_F6rkayuPn3mM25zz6TI0u7zAzVyj9Hkt3Umxdrhk56/s320/still+inside+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433428810685719682" border="0" /></a>Almost done!<br /></div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/invalid.jpg"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/invalid.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-67851500842128609152009-10-09T13:17:00.001-05:002009-10-09T13:19:10.204-05:00<span style="font-size:+1;">Where could I go, where could I run<br />Even if I found the strength to fly <br />And if I rose on the wings of the dawn <br />And crashed through the corner of the sky <br />If I sailed past the edge of the sea <br />Even if I made my bed in Hell <br />Still there You would find me <br /><br />'Cause nothing is beyond You <br />You stand beyond the reach <br />Of our vain imaginations <br />Our misguided piety <br />The heavens stretch to hold You <br />And deep cries out to deep <br />Singing that nothing is beyond You <br />Nothing is beyond You <br /><br />Time cannot contain You <br />You fill eternity <br />Sin can never stain You <br />Death has lost its sting <br /><br />And I cannot explain the way You came to love me<br />Except to say that nothing is beyond You <br />Nothing is beyond You <br /><br />If I should shrink back from the light <br />So I can sink into the dark <br />If I take cover and I close my eyes <br />Even then You would see my heart <br /><br />And You'd cut through all my pain and rage <br />The darkness is not dark to You <br />And night's as bright as day <br /><br />Nothing is beyond You <br />You stand beyond the reach <br />Of our vain imaginations <br />Our misguided piety <br />The heavens stretch to hold You <br />And deep cries out to deep <br />Singing that nothing is beyond You <br />Nothing is beyond You <br /><br />And time cannot contain You <br />You fill eternity <br />Sin can never stain You <br />And death has lost its sting <br /><br />And I cannot explain the way You came to love me<br />Except to say that nothing is beyond You <br />Nothing is beyond You <br />Nothing is beyond You<br /><br /> <span style="font-size:78%;">Lyrics by Rich Mullins<br />Copyright 1998 - Liturgy Legacy Music / Word Music / ASCAP / White Plastic Bag Music / SESAC / De Cristos Music / BMI</span></span>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-58893811501289023552009-09-12T17:16:00.003-05:002009-09-12T17:19:19.215-05:00Can you guess?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpGSZXlSRzFviThskPfIuMyxZx6YiDgp8YZ5nZ5tPrPFr-79DTxkp_yXm-DbrKO7qgTGC_3G12FXqNkO2hkR1p8XlKzdP_7HW2j79Vbb19GK6HyAUCm64vsZVGJ-W5ey-XPwlkfka2gx2/s1600-h/IMG00803.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpGSZXlSRzFviThskPfIuMyxZx6YiDgp8YZ5nZ5tPrPFr-79DTxkp_yXm-DbrKO7qgTGC_3G12FXqNkO2hkR1p8XlKzdP_7HW2j79Vbb19GK6HyAUCm64vsZVGJ-W5ey-XPwlkfka2gx2/s320/IMG00803.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380708777502137202" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZAQcMRjfPy1BzZSSVo5GpQs33glM4diJElMw6-dUqsIVNOexjkG7-AE0eO93Wod0Vn9A3istPsZBqLve5eCmSOxiJlKSUAHPjZ1u7w8vrnW7rEfes9rT74biea-vP0i4HergDvaUikogp/s1600-h/IMG00804.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZAQcMRjfPy1BzZSSVo5GpQs33glM4diJElMw6-dUqsIVNOexjkG7-AE0eO93Wod0Vn9A3istPsZBqLve5eCmSOxiJlKSUAHPjZ1u7w8vrnW7rEfes9rT74biea-vP0i4HergDvaUikogp/s320/IMG00804.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380708772984479010" border="0" /></a><br />She will be here in early February!CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-78424572963988499142009-08-22T23:35:00.000-05:002009-08-22T23:36:23.264-05:00:oD<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlInGlOaaAcpNaTUOFTSBfwLM0PzAvHTPz6zUUHmImUodKLIIhBnwdev-_mkbbAcHSSRz9ofFxxK_9POoNziX0y3rX1NbB-9jD8c2k3EB5ZTvmJ08IHccMKE6e1YuO5w538U16OZu4zI_V/s1600-h/positive+number+10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlInGlOaaAcpNaTUOFTSBfwLM0PzAvHTPz6zUUHmImUodKLIIhBnwdev-_mkbbAcHSSRz9ofFxxK_9POoNziX0y3rX1NbB-9jD8c2k3EB5ZTvmJ08IHccMKE6e1YuO5w538U16OZu4zI_V/s320/positive+number+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373013296100740754" border="0" /></a>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-47110356397559947982009-06-02T20:53:00.004-05:002009-06-13T13:28:14.080-05:00A Busy Time<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiqruumdiZ0-yVjl9tv9mEphz3hQJn4CWivn_wHRPi1NEZZ7EqZ_Nivm2t_gRDxPeyvJ67ytPzb3l-1BadlDzD2LHCuL8JnrYKpRG-mXEpDPzMXKuEsaul_3L8EAzmW2g5Mk_PCzRFHXNx/s1600-h/DSCN0284.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiqruumdiZ0-yVjl9tv9mEphz3hQJn4CWivn_wHRPi1NEZZ7EqZ_Nivm2t_gRDxPeyvJ67ytPzb3l-1BadlDzD2LHCuL8JnrYKpRG-mXEpDPzMXKuEsaul_3L8EAzmW2g5Mk_PCzRFHXNx/s320/DSCN0284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342914338111384306" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQTWUxYj5xm1uErS33j-tyT2mXyS4iyH68CcEGoUy0CrUR4J2CDim2Fvr5bWGc1MgP8A8nyvEEHoAMMkafFjhSxe8xi876niQuoJte-PDFU9yXk0lRV1gLKxWMKBgxko4oKwwJIsk52kw/s1600-h/DSCN0289.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQTWUxYj5xm1uErS33j-tyT2mXyS4iyH68CcEGoUy0CrUR4J2CDim2Fvr5bWGc1MgP8A8nyvEEHoAMMkafFjhSxe8xi876niQuoJte-PDFU9yXk0lRV1gLKxWMKBgxko4oKwwJIsk52kw/s320/DSCN0289.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342914861100308162" border="0" /></a><br />These are some of the new residents around our homestead. We have been very busy, trying to get everything ready for us to move. We have gotten so much accomplished, yet there is still so much to be done. <br /><br />Our garden is doing better this year than last year. We added three new beds and have been growing more of the practical things than we did last year...and none of the rather frivolous items (melons). We have had to deal with a serious potato bug infestation...and the deer keep eating my roses...but since those have been dealt with, everything seems to be going well.<br /><div><br /></div>We have about 25 chickens--they won't hold still to be counted, so until I get them banded, I won't know for sure how many. We saw a listing on Craig's List for the breed of chickens I had decided (after several months of research) that I wanted. It was my intention to get about 15, so I built a coop suitable for that many. The day we went to pick up the chickens, the man selling them told us, "I'm going to make you a deal you can't refuse. You can take as many as will fit in your cage for the same price as the 15 you were going to take." We ended up with 30 or so! Then we got home and I realized I would have to build an addition to the coop. A friend had wanted to get 6 chickens and when she heard our story, asked if she could buy them from us. I was glad to have a few less! We are getting about 2 eggs a day now, but will eventually get close to 20, depending on how many end up being roosters.<br /><br />The two goats are both wethers (not little boys anymore) and are strictly around for practical purposes. Goats are great at clearing brushy weeds and small trees off the land. They will eat most weeds, but are not especially fond of grass. When winter comes, they will go into our freezer. I hear Chili Cabrito is pretty amazing.<br /><br />We thought we were ready for electricity, but when the company came out to check, they gave us a few more tasks to accomplish. The biggest part is clearing a path through the trees I wanted to keep as a windbreak/privacy barrier. Lizard and Turtle have been doing an amazing job of getting the small trees and brush cleared out of there this week, using just an ax, a hatchet, and a pair of branch loppers. I am very proud of the work they have been doing.CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-64825138587894002042009-02-09T14:19:00.000-06:002009-02-09T14:19:42.746-06:00Gator's First Haircut<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixRcriZJc1CxuD8yg-9e2WwuVDXv1RR1hLj7IiH-VH3PghNTCspdMmxwZvhochvDazWwNXh_1_TpzvH5TkgddHkLcA_vFpX6jdl-rHF8zS4WZqP1WpeKKuQ2uSnszYNAyBJQCcS-MDodvO/s1600-h/Feb06-2009.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixRcriZJc1CxuD8yg-9e2WwuVDXv1RR1hLj7IiH-VH3PghNTCspdMmxwZvhochvDazWwNXh_1_TpzvH5TkgddHkLcA_vFpX6jdl-rHF8zS4WZqP1WpeKKuQ2uSnszYNAyBJQCcS-MDodvO/s400/Feb06-2009.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-4665329681873606132009-02-09T12:29:00.000-06:002009-02-09T12:29:39.578-06:00A Sweet Young Lady<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo7_gpbG4XNa6txVp6P_lcNOXphIxFHCJZi17bHoDUOE8Cv6Fs0NLVDZNugGXArz1DQmLcvGFFO6TWNClrSFa2FR8rn3nqc5vbvT3JNqE9iixe39fTyZ6Amb_VI_3JteBGA7JX9k35nQg2/s1600-h/IMG00585.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo7_gpbG4XNa6txVp6P_lcNOXphIxFHCJZi17bHoDUOE8Cv6Fs0NLVDZNugGXArz1DQmLcvGFFO6TWNClrSFa2FR8rn3nqc5vbvT3JNqE9iixe39fTyZ6Amb_VI_3JteBGA7JX9k35nQg2/s400/IMG00585.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-17557616308256475142009-01-15T16:10:00.000-06:002009-01-15T16:10:26.348-06:00He's Walking<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxBwnMSggzC2YzC50byzHzR-zXYVHV7UCwXB-wuXK-sjmCSczdvxkeG19WndszwpbELDhUGYUBsdecz02ncGd67zPmuu9RRGSFtER9oMkYcYdl2W7gbWLz2jaQdqL2i-Hkb8FLwPa1EGM/s1600-h/HE'S+WALKING.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxBwnMSggzC2YzC50byzHzR-zXYVHV7UCwXB-wuXK-sjmCSczdvxkeG19WndszwpbELDhUGYUBsdecz02ncGd67zPmuu9RRGSFtER9oMkYcYdl2W7gbWLz2jaQdqL2i-Hkb8FLwPa1EGM/s400/HE'S+WALKING.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div>Okay, so in all reality, he started walking on Christmas Eve...Papa even took some video. :o) But there are times when they just seem to be getting comfortable in a new skill. And that was today. I love my camera phone--it's always with me. And Picasa has some neat formats.<div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-7126961553569666342009-01-12T10:47:00.003-06:002009-01-12T11:24:20.725-06:00Update 2<div style="text-align: center;">My dragonfly is in college! Yikes...I'm old...<div><br /></div><div>She's majoring in nursing. Her dream is to become an Occupational Therapist, so she needed some kind of "biology" major. Nursing looked like the best choice; practical, flexible, necessary. As an added bonus, it is in high demand in the military. While we were looking for college money, we ran across information about ROTC (Reserve Officer Training Corps)...silly me, I always thought that was for high schoolers (btw, that's the Junior ROTC). Guess that's what happens when you don't pay any attention in high school. We went to the college and talked to the guy (can't remember his rank! sorry) in charge of the ROTC and he was very interested in getting her into their program. So, all this to say--"she's in the army now" with a full scholarship and a four year commitment to serve once she finishes college.</div></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRCEPaCYaDcQfn4Aml3Vi643citIdFZUmiAZJFjkzsTp5FA-RdiRPJS5ssRJW_S4LwOxK68CKnXUNRR0HfYc9iefSR4eAu9dLGBQefEKDTG2epyrYPZGo0a2jcSGFeBKSpGh0wTG1OMdD/s1600-h/College+girl.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRCEPaCYaDcQfn4Aml3Vi643citIdFZUmiAZJFjkzsTp5FA-RdiRPJS5ssRJW_S4LwOxK68CKnXUNRR0HfYc9iefSR4eAu9dLGBQefEKDTG2epyrYPZGo0a2jcSGFeBKSpGh0wTG1OMdD/s320/College+girl.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290457870897677506" /></a><div><div><div style="text-align: center;">first day<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNxncKh1FF9soIsdiWPuD_LGr8BqsBc2VMNfEnIzHqJHjzH0sW9m1k2ZTgUfhIUcggbyeEkz3zvwmmnETkvgIPE4Yf2f_h7ThwHY7My9OXRdcTVEpSJtnRdEqnOpoWrTnabO71pIsbBAhb/s1600-h/Tabi+ACU.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNxncKh1FF9soIsdiWPuD_LGr8BqsBc2VMNfEnIzHqJHjzH0sW9m1k2ZTgUfhIUcggbyeEkz3zvwmmnETkvgIPE4Yf2f_h7ThwHY7My9OXRdcTVEpSJtnRdEqnOpoWrTnabO71pIsbBAhb/s320/Tabi+ACU.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290457865477467122" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">in uniform<br /></div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-64989823388709956552009-01-12T10:06:00.006-06:002009-01-12T10:46:52.565-06:00UpdatingWell...uh...I'm not sure what to say. :o) You know, it's amazing -- I love to write, I want to blog, but I usually have no idea what to write about...so I don't write anything, and that just compounds the problem because then I have too much to write about.<div><br /></div><div>...sigh...</div><div><br /></div><div>So, a few of you know that we bought the land we wanted last spring--to update on that, we've had our garden, though not super successful; we have cleared, and installed the septic. </div><div>Some pictures:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTTrHefbmxDwXGKKXJaOOox1k9EiTPS40hxofuH2yerdCW21Qr7Sy8HZBjZoXEhhCMPV7TaPcz1sMnKg5sjpWgKGuoIWNPUzFshrmEc_sCHpqaWjpryI1-gsST1-AyEG6MSuuAILSZFU3t/s320/bulldozing1+-+before.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290445676805649250" /><div style="text-align: center;">the land, before</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-Sn5y1FSGCht1TGKvnQzj9R2xm_Lmw3TYxgnPlrfBzCYB5RfxbX7hemmVovGXylcXNzFh1ELv7j1Udq8-x1DCblSjdMZIitdQoKSKqCyP_DgnbKTSRGWdEN0gfVv0kbAWWpwfbQ55iYr/s320/bulldozing3.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290446104561931042" /><div style="text-align: center;">getting cleared</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFB-ZAMyjh0BPD94EHkQRqjBnRHT_B5HqkQD-hYe6HtqK-dxK9pq2pZqfmmh5daV76Kfk_KsbYDjteXbYq1GgB7AGKsnROAJV0kF3Bew4b7QJMdjWrrhiVMbtq3-9UzRJhXE8UkK3xoj-b/s320/IMG00347.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290447246903865490" /><div style="text-align: center;">septic tank going in</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNHieNAf1pAQAIwmOa_kBSRcmZ-BrsOCiBTi1hf787qPtne9ZIju51uE0KnJ8gm2hGciIUL8s2xDuG1-yJvW3uJjtf2t9oCwTSSlEX3JxLdYLLUFDu8xkNmt8NvV7oouA390s95u_jsuAA/s320/IMG00237.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290448250945153426" /><div style="text-align: center;">the garden, early</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">apparently, I didn't take any pictures after it really started growing in...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">btw, anyone have any tried and true methods of eradicating squash bugs, without poisons?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I'll start another post for other updates</div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-79897108465106971162008-07-04T16:16:00.001-05:002008-07-04T16:19:03.996-05:00Effective<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuLPayE30gawGJnmzTUW8DMayxNZ34LUHP38gAgKduu0VkeC3PDyT7hqglAjwh2icvdhvWLj4Xyt2TasvkVh9exvgGoJIaaDPz5BgxZMIyRz5cKrPs79nFQLe-VTr6WyXb6PwzODwoWPxX/s1600-h/collage.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuLPayE30gawGJnmzTUW8DMayxNZ34LUHP38gAgKduu0VkeC3PDyT7hqglAjwh2icvdhvWLj4Xyt2TasvkVh9exvgGoJIaaDPz5BgxZMIyRz5cKrPs79nFQLe-VTr6WyXb6PwzODwoWPxX/s400/collage.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-67346485225356039522008-03-25T15:17:00.000-05:002008-03-25T15:27:38.262-05:00Laundry, walking, smiles<div>Well, I've been neglecting the blogging of the exercises...but not the exercises. :) My neighbor walks her dog at 3 every afternoon and I've been walking with her (though not every afternoon--I skip the rainy ones and the ones when I have to be somewhere else). It's always good to have a partner.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Laundry--where do you sort your clean laundry? I do mine on my bed.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181777653053049826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU5FsyStcBfta1E7hl2toJZZ1_b7fdou__Zsj9vFJvwnvWSj0odycmxbcEcTsxRuAbupjjg-1cC-u9s3qi-Q3yTjbDoq8jRQuYVVDYCY1zg9gWh0k5a2oS-EQWqbZ6saTzu2kUB32FL2nz/s320/IMG00110.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><br /><p></p><br /><p>And just because I couldn't resist--a smile!</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181777996650433522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrNk1edvMhQP2tBYMi9efME17yScL3vJsfUSca2KRLHkxPqOq50Vv77UpMdx4f2K8ssj7hfx1m0KoIPQvk6NRkslgRKw33a2KenWgPd0dc-KnPbIGgcWj_qPJDsy9rXLEQXW9kEm4Qc7sS/s320/IMG00119.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p></p>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-43306001984783431702008-02-25T09:26:00.001-06:002008-02-25T09:35:58.421-06:00My Children<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxahaW72M2QA0d2okDaXakifIava5dosmd85oqydz8KgsJq0oIER1wdljxwiSRUptuZYfOly13lwiKDKnp8VWl51rJ0CmwWpsH44xN-A80o0Qo8Qcyg6Efin4sQtYxGltGcer9o-IDZ_R/s1600-h/collage.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxahaW72M2QA0d2okDaXakifIava5dosmd85oqydz8KgsJq0oIER1wdljxwiSRUptuZYfOly13lwiKDKnp8VWl51rJ0CmwWpsH44xN-A80o0Qo8Qcyg6Efin4sQtYxGltGcer9o-IDZ_R/s400/collage.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br />Turtle, 11-Frog, 4-Dragonfly, 18-Lizard, 15-Ant, 2-Butterfly, 9-Gator, 20 days-Ladybug, 13-Bee, 7 (only managed to exercise once last week-besides Kegels, that is... /sigh/ ) <div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-74066654210868744302008-02-21T16:33:00.000-06:002008-02-21T16:37:59.152-06:00<em>"I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you."</em><br /><em>Psalm 119:11 (ESV)</em><br /><br />A friend and I were recently discussing "those" days...you know the ones where everything that can go wrong does--and does it early in the morning, so that the whole day is affected. As we went back and forth in our conversation, discussing all that happens on those days, we eventually got around to the fact that both of us have a tendency to yell at our children when nothing is going the way we want it to. We both sighed and then laughed. As conversations do, ours took a detour. She asked me about the birth of my little 'Gator (maybe I'll get around to posting that, eventually) and I mentioned that I had meditated on a verse from the OT to get through it (1Chron 28:20), then jokingly added, "Maybe we need to pick a verse to meditate on so we won't yell at our children!"<br /><br />...oh...<br /><br />Sometimes God lets us walk circles around that which should be so obvious to us, then He gently nudges us into it. He knew, from the beginning of time, what this day would bring for me, for you, and everyone else on the earth. And He provided something for us in His Written Word, that if we knew it, if we had stored it in our hearts, would provide strength, purpose, or Peace.<br /><br /><em>"do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."</em><br /><em>Phil 4:6-7</em>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-67294671723309451912008-02-19T19:45:00.002-06:002009-01-12T10:03:14.497-06:00A Challenge<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXOeVLDU83T4NZECzjFl7420nxsxgjKlNdARa211ES5SXCjuKq5R_yXPikWi4DunFse7WVbqW1oy84VZE6kEirPpEST6Xj2nSRPFbmOAaUoVXQIdPKcgf8dUCDJfHTOpvvHQPEoJkKkm5b/s1600-h/nursing-23+days+old.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168897087491014898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXOeVLDU83T4NZECzjFl7420nxsxgjKlNdARa211ES5SXCjuKq5R_yXPikWi4DunFse7WVbqW1oy84VZE6kEirPpEST6Xj2nSRPFbmOAaUoVXQIdPKcgf8dUCDJfHTOpvvHQPEoJkKkm5b/s200/nursing-23+days+old.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div>A Challenge has been issued to those of us who are moms of many. With the Blessing of children comes responsibility--as with all Blessings. That responsibility is to teach them about God: His Love, His Grace, His Word, His Son. We can't do that if we are ill, or tired all the time, or incapacitated in some other way (like when I needed back surgery and several months to recover after it). While there are some things that are beyond our control, if something IS in my control I should do my best at it. Taking care of the body God gave me and keeping it in good repair are part of my job. This challenge is specifically about exercising. Since my sweet baby boy is only 23 days old (picture taken while typing this), I will be starting out slowly. This week I'm thinking Kegels and the back strengthening stretches I do on my tummy will be my exercises of choice. <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-33152046296154419912008-02-14T19:19:00.000-06:002008-02-14T19:37:39.994-06:00He's hereOur gorgeous 'Gator was born January 27. I thought he would come on the 21st, but he wanted me to wait. He was 7lbs 11 oz and 19 1/2 inches on his birthday--by his dr appt on the 8th day, he was up to 8~1 and 21" (obviously no problems with nursing). Here are a few pictures. taken with my phone... (day 1, day 3, day 10)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEoJJpdGkXPipG8SHmKA2v86XX-Yr_VNkQqdmqzNHa_KQqienjMXhuJuYl-PVVM20OlMwDLdOS6ayiwC4u_92QB8xAS3gID-BmIJM7enFV94rNJuTDGC2cOqo3EPqapPnO6VxhPqiya4T/s1600-h/micah.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167011824481337506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEoJJpdGkXPipG8SHmKA2v86XX-Yr_VNkQqdmqzNHa_KQqienjMXhuJuYl-PVVM20OlMwDLdOS6ayiwC4u_92QB8xAS3gID-BmIJM7enFV94rNJuTDGC2cOqo3EPqapPnO6VxhPqiya4T/s320/micah.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7dd2tfJk0X8FnnLH33RgoSrn8Yn0JO_iIU6BOjyCYMtVdm3HG-JeIigilcujIjEhVLs87vEj3rTQBsLSV_Wk_lFS60-0EyE-GPIEzVInBRBnuEwGGE6tj0vtTdn-EQZbM52V53e9mmfS/s1600-h/sweet+sleeper-10+days.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167013065726886066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6oIt08dWYkEMYLXYnENieigmETHdnlK8DuYEP2HjfoenEtU5gJeba2AamvrwelZZ-Ugg_eP13INSEyZMtWNM2N60RrHhggFDcoxD9zmwo8PTx9tJeRZU83jJfNgJcmldVRuiWYH-Eycb0/s320/Micah-day+3.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167013808756228290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7dd2tfJk0X8FnnLH33RgoSrn8Yn0JO_iIU6BOjyCYMtVdm3HG-JeIigilcujIjEhVLs87vEj3rTQBsLSV_Wk_lFS60-0EyE-GPIEzVInBRBnuEwGGE6tj0vtTdn-EQZbM52V53e9mmfS/s320/sweet+sleeper-10+days.jpg" border="0" /></a>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-672897927042346143.post-84303169066716268372007-10-25T10:46:00.000-05:002007-10-25T11:36:34.302-05:00It's a Boy! party<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJhOkXbSgaw3zEuv1P98Mi9aY_Wog4fVbO0MboFtdZmGY9JLRuOhykeF-MM4VbAMnhby6yip88XdujP-lkFS48vm_LgxuYUb9SLcnby5Hn-wVVelqFa7M2-RbWXP-WOTMUL1eDysFdZ6j/s1600-h/its+a+boy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125313799382790098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJhOkXbSgaw3zEuv1P98Mi9aY_Wog4fVbO0MboFtdZmGY9JLRuOhykeF-MM4VbAMnhby6yip88XdujP-lkFS48vm_LgxuYUb9SLcnby5Hn-wVVelqFa7M2-RbWXP-WOTMUL1eDysFdZ6j/s320/its+a+boy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnva-AyrfspiM2GxApqjIswsSLwX41oCiI8Hyy0frEsVLfKdg1lh-XK0eLGlotIZpOY8dnYbv9etST6rEsyAZhsqTdHddlzY7EDV3T83vdpWFRKQMIJjRdK5VDW2Dwp9j-MOkNLvzmfObR/s1600-h/banner.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125313803677757410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnva-AyrfspiM2GxApqjIswsSLwX41oCiI8Hyy0frEsVLfKdg1lh-XK0eLGlotIZpOY8dnYbv9etST6rEsyAZhsqTdHddlzY7EDV3T83vdpWFRKQMIJjRdK5VDW2Dwp9j-MOkNLvzmfObR/s320/banner.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM3CTqAVOHqwNU7np3ea3H9xxjwOltGunznoCY_fghwnwu_T0HmgmJGhGcqZp_7Tf3RSKy_2KR7Q7Ivg62RgiBr8zRTdsFU7meFKJ3euTJnqjNJyb841B-vifRcxrZ2BEfF3eqejKFCMyW/s1600-h/balloons.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125313807972724722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM3CTqAVOHqwNU7np3ea3H9xxjwOltGunznoCY_fghwnwu_T0HmgmJGhGcqZp_7Tf3RSKy_2KR7Q7Ivg62RgiBr8zRTdsFU7meFKJ3euTJnqjNJyb841B-vifRcxrZ2BEfF3eqejKFCMyW/s320/balloons.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhy7jC45kutS013qwa7zx3nQ4iH1K0roYG-WtXKVH3TKlQ7lSx8QVbl63w-TU3rnNyy9XqrOHVYeNlcmxF1SvdNcTwWGtOXZbT5ZfnRgMJ3qtvaUDVRPKC9dKDoRC_Lg14t-n_xGGd2ny/s1600-h/cake.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125313807972724738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhy7jC45kutS013qwa7zx3nQ4iH1K0roYG-WtXKVH3TKlQ7lSx8QVbl63w-TU3rnNyy9XqrOHVYeNlcmxF1SvdNcTwWGtOXZbT5ZfnRgMJ3qtvaUDVRPKC9dKDoRC_Lg14t-n_xGGd2ny/s320/cake.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Our usual course of action is to tell the other children, in an interesting way, if the coming baby is a boy or a girl. Last time, we had a pink party with streamers and a strawberry cake and strawberry frosting and pink candies on top that spelled out "GIRL." This time we wanted to do something different...Daddy came up with the idea to fill our entry way with blue balloons sometime while they were gone so that when they came in the door, they will be greeted by a sea of blue. Daddy never does anything halfway, though! He also got a large banner, made a curtain of blue ribbon, added blue color to lemon-lime soda, and got a cake with enough blue color in the icing to make us all have blue lips and teeth. </div>CamsShelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08541580617593001054noreply@blogger.com3