tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-134908402024-03-07T13:24:27.671-06:00Stuck on you...Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.comBlogger154125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-54566704466192381032013-04-04T16:44:00.001-05:002013-04-04T16:44:48.664-05:00Inspire Me...Inspire You...<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do you ever stop to think about how exactly you got to be
where you are at in life?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was doing
just such a thing driving in the car this beautiful sunny afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was thinking about things in my life that I
have accomplished simply by the inspiration of those who have crossed my path.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some still a part of my life, even
if I don’t get to see or hang with them as much as I used to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For instance, way back in the fall of 2002, one Saturday
morning around that time I went to put on my favorite pair of size 18 jeans
that to, my horror, no longer buttoned, I thought of my dear friend Joy who had
recently started going to Weight Watchers and losing weight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That morning I decided with resolve that I
was tired of living my life overweight and I was finally ready to do something
about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I joined Joy at Weight
Watchers and consequently today am celebrating my 7<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> anniversary of
losing nearly 70lbs.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There was a time when my resolve to keep the weight off
waivered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember feeling tired of
daily battle I fought with myself over eating right, not eating too much etc
etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wondered if it was really worth
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that same time, my friend, Sam,
started on her own journey of weight loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Watching her inspired me to get my thoughts and goals back on track, and
today we encourage each other in the daily battle to fight for our thinner
bodies we worked so hard for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Growing up as an overweight child there were many things
that I was not physically able to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One of those things was running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In 2006, a mere year after reaching my goal weight, a new coworker,
Krysta, talked me into running the Race for the Cure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had never run before and 3.2 miles seemed
overwhelming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started slow and
followed the couch to 5K plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That year
in October I completed my first ever 5k (sans Krysta, who I’m not sure why she
did not end up running with me) and I’ve been running ever since.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Krysta lives two hours away from me now and I
don’t get to see or talk to her much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But I often think of her and how glad I am that she talked me into that
first race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In 2009, my friend Lauren contacted me and said, “Hey, I’m
running a half marathon this fall why don’t you do it with me?!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seemed INSANE to me at the time, I’d only ever
run 3 miles before, but something in me was dying to try it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I caught the fire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I started training.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two months before the race I found out she
wasn’t going to be able to run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
trained for months and I couldn’t stop now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My sister, my lone supporter, that day traveled from two hours away just
to get up at 5am and wait that chilly November morning to scream my name as I
crossed the finish line 2 hours and 16 minutes later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, my sister, Pam, is my training partner
who has pushed me (without saying any words) to improve my own running.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Life really tried to do a number on me the following year,
and injury sidelined me from my running which had become my solace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By 2012, life had settled and a new “normal”
had emerged. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was also able to start running again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That year my birthday brought me another
unexpected (but wonderful) surprise – another new running partner – a boy by
the name of Everett. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have had the
pleasure of watching him grow as a runner over the last (almost) year, run his
first 5k and smash some time records.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
has inspired me to keep working as he has continued to find time to enter races
and do runs in the face of grueling challenges like nursing school and being a
single father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There have been countless others that have come into my life
that have meant so much to me, changed my thinking, and honestly, the course of
my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People who gave me the courage
to do and achieve things I never in my wildest dreams thought I could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are so many legitimate life altering reasons
I could have used to give up, to quit trying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I could have chosen to let it shake my faith or make me hard and
bitter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But instead I have chosen to be
thankful for things I have been blessed with, my health, my girls, my running,
my friends and family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I truly believe
that every day is a gift, a chance to make sure the people in your life who
mean so much to you KNOW how much they mean to you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My hope is that I can pour into and inspire
people in my life somehow to achieve things they never considered before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sorry I don’t have enough time and space
to mention everyone here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was kind of
pre-occupied with running today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> So, Dream it then DO IT!! </span>To borrow an applicable phrase from Dr. Seuss "Oh, the places you'll go!!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you
need encouragement (no matter what it is) let me know, I got your back! </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-56435957316588548232012-07-31T21:48:00.001-05:002012-07-31T21:59:35.138-05:00Sarah the School GirlWho'd-a-thunk-it, right? Here I am at the grand age of 35 sitting in my first graduate class after being out of school for 13 years. Class is not even close to the way I remember it back then. I sit here at a table, complete with plug-ins for my laptop, wi-fi hooked up, smartphone on my notebook that I normally would have been writing notes in, but Instead I'm typing bullet points in a word document on my laptop. CrAZy!<br />
<br />
Wondering as I sit here listing to my professor, who is very interesting, watching short clips pertinent to communication from youtube on the internet, what in the WORLD made me do this school thing again?! Truthfully, I've always had the desire to do this. Seemed like life, time or circumstances were never right before. Maybe still not now, but there is no such thing as perfect, and quite frankly, I'm just tired of waiting and wasting time. You never know when you won't have anymore time. <br />
<br />
I suppose that deep at the heart of it is just a desire to learn and grow and be "more" than what I was/am. To show my girls it's never to late, the dream is never too big, life is never an absolute. I want them to always be able to dream big and never stop. But how exactly do you teach something so abstract as to dream big? My only reasonable answer is to show them, to remember that one day they will follow my example and not my advice. <br />
<br />
So, here I sit, in my very first class for my MBA! I can't believe it myself! What an awesome, imposing, amazing adventure I have now started. I'm excited! Will it be work? Yes. Will it take time? Yes. Will it be hard, scary, life-changing, annoying? Yes, yes, yes and YES! But I've never been one to be scared off by hard work, this is just another challenge to conquer. Just another avenue to become a better version of myself. But as they say, a comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing ever grows there. <br />
<br />
See you at graduation 2014!!<br />
<br />
"Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." <br />
~ Ralph Waldo EmersonSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-6394870601275287942012-05-31T23:00:00.000-05:002012-05-31T23:00:58.576-05:00An Open Letter to a Friend...So, It's been a while since we've talked. I wouldn't have guessed things would go this way, I really thought more of you than this. It's sad to have yet one more name to add to the list of people who have taken advantage of me and acted like a jerk. You better cover up, your character is showing and it's not pretty.<br />
<br />
It feels ooohhhh, so good, to know that I was there for you in a dark, desperate time. That I spent time and effort trying to lift you up and be there for you, poured my heart and soul into being the kind of friend I would like to have, prayed for you and encouraged you thru the hardest of times, and now just days later when others are giving you attention, suddenly I am of no significance. Forgive me if I feel a bit used, I never knew that's the way a "friendship" worked. <br />
<br />
See, one thing I have learned over the past couple of years is not to make someone a priority in my life, when I am only an option in theirs. I am nobodys plan B. I am worth more than that. I am the kindest and best of friends, I always go the extra mile and give out of the kindness of my heart because that's the kind of person I am and that's the kind of people I want in my life. You only get what you give. But of course, you know exactly what kind of girl I am.<br />
<br />
You may think I'm really angry. I'm not. Just very disappointed and truthfully, hurt. The one thing about it is, I will let this go and I won't worry about it because I know God knows just where to find you, and you see, He's my biggest fan. He'll deal with you. :)Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-91805568849856190092012-04-23T21:59:00.000-05:002012-04-23T21:59:45.893-05:00The Silent Potty MouthAs with any type of exercise, there are days when one struggles more so than other days. Whether it be physically or mentally, if you're truly trying to affect change in your body you will experience a battle. As I ran tonight, even tho the afternoon was beautiful, the temperature just right and lightest of breezes blowing just enough to cool me off, I battled with myself to finish the 5 mile weekday run I have done so many times over the last few months I could practically do it in my sleep (I think, not <em>really</em> going to test that one out).<br />
<br />
I wanted to walk so badly about mile 3, but with my music blaring thru my earbuds, I just started yelling at myself in my head. "You are NOT a quitter. You are a runner NOT a walker. Just suck it up buttercup, you got this. It's all mental til you pass out, then it's physical. I can do ALL THINGS because Christ gives me strength." OK, good pep talk Sarah....and so on I went.<br />
<br />
Mile four hit and I started feeling that old foot issue. I was mad, I could feel my ears burning. I could feel those thoughts coming back. Maybe I should just walk a minute, it's just a minute. Just about the time I had almost convinced myself I would do it. I heard a voice in my head say (yes, I hear voices are you scared now? :P). "You'll regret it. Just EFFING FINISH IT! Don't be a damn quitter" Oops!<br />
<br />
Then I wondered to myself....a mile ago I was quoting the Bible to myself, now I'm cussing. I wonder what the heck is wrong with me. Does it count that I only cuss at myself and that I only do it in my head? Oh wait, isn't there a verse that says something like as a man thinks so he is....oh my, I'm a potty mouth. I'm a silent potty mouth, wanna-be quitter...Oh look, I just hit five miles. I'm done! Wohoo! I'll ponder this potty mouth question on the next run, where's the water? Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-54675079093062856772012-02-29T20:42:00.000-06:002012-02-29T20:42:14.938-06:00Hooker Heels, Hills of Beans and Conspiracy Theories...<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I know you just read that title and said to yourself, “W-T-F! She really has lost it now!” ….aaaannnndddd….there’s a distinct possibility you might be right. However, I’ve decided to have some fun in my world so I just really don’t care what you think (I say that with the utmost of love and respect for you). So, don’t waste your time with concerned emails or calls to me, please. :)</div><br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXU_DeH_vNe0BdpI6Q-wYeTgkw4jqeQj3uSCGecoqwRlTlfq0EfMuKA8yJYkq-2Mzcae0N-cjDfeGyCYonfB7KNry4V5K-2h_7DDiShAvBALcdpDnkp8OCx36X0JmibffndzfX/s1600/337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXU_DeH_vNe0BdpI6Q-wYeTgkw4jqeQj3uSCGecoqwRlTlfq0EfMuKA8yJYkq-2Mzcae0N-cjDfeGyCYonfB7KNry4V5K-2h_7DDiShAvBALcdpDnkp8OCx36X0JmibffndzfX/s200/337.jpg" uda="true" width="200" /></a>You know I love me some shoes! Always have, probably always will. Here I am at age the sweet age of four, sleeping with a new pair of cowboy boots. My mom says this was common practice for me after the acquisition of a new pair of shoes and after a couple instances of trying to persuade me to at least leave them on the nightstand, she gave up and decided if I hurt myself sleeping with shoes then it was on me. </div><br />
I still own and love my cowboy boots (even in my blog pic I’m wearing them), but as I have grown and matured (this point could be debatable, but that’s another blog post entirely) I’ve come to love my dress heels I fondly refer to as my “hooker heels.” Not really because they are the “hooker” style (don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean), but just very tall. Well, OK, I admit some of them are pretty funky, but I refuse to own shoes with no personality. When you are 5’2” and the slacks you purchase in the “petite” section of the store are still too long, it’s comes down to the fact that heels are more fun to spend money on than alterations for slacks that should have been SHORT to begin with. <br />
<br />
So, I bet you are still wondering where the “hill of beans” fit into all this? Yeah, I knew it. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’ll get there. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNG_qg4XruOQBuVeVHWcp86uMn0q5AI6d4GNGBp1Y0rpJUxXukQEJSnoETSz_rgzN84vViX30whhj_DYK_KmhXZ618c-SWsP0kF_RNcdf7kiS-a7mPTNIOVAhLAsg_1myVqt4d/s1600/103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNG_qg4XruOQBuVeVHWcp86uMn0q5AI6d4GNGBp1Y0rpJUxXukQEJSnoETSz_rgzN84vViX30whhj_DYK_KmhXZ618c-SWsP0kF_RNcdf7kiS-a7mPTNIOVAhLAsg_1myVqt4d/s200/103.jpg" uda="true" width="200" /></a></div>Yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend (who shall remain nameless in effort to protect their secret identity) that actually resulted in texting a picture of the heels you see here with the caption “These,” to which my friend responded “These? That’s a weird brand name…” and of course I shot back, “I could tell you the brand name but I’m sure it wouldn’t make a hill of beans to you.” And from the there the conversation turned from whether or not I had actually laid eyes on a “hill of beans” but that said “hill” actually did exist and my friend had viewed the rather large “hill” but was not at liberty speak of it due to the fact that it was part of a secret government program along with the “whole ball of wax.” <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">When I expressed my concern in continuing on in this exchange of secret information lest I find myself in the possession of secret agents ready to take me away, my friend calmly informed me not to worry, all I would have to do is sample some Kool-Aid and tell them which flavor I liked the best. But since I don’t partake in the ingestion of chemically produced, highly sugared substances I chose to end the conversation. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Oh, by the way, did you know Starbucks is run by the CIA? </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">(Don’t worry, you’ll find the black cherry flavor isn’t so bad after all!)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-30412976980269055852012-02-28T20:17:00.002-06:002012-02-28T20:26:17.493-06:00"The Heart of Life"When you’ve labored thru the dark stormy rains, “the valley of the shadow of death” that has left you a bloody, battered, exhausted mess, you can get used to existing that way. At least I know I did. But there comes a time when you start to look up, catch a glimpse of a small piece of blue sky you latch onto and watch for again as the black storm clouds keep rolling high above. You begin to see little pieces of the puzzle of your life begin to make sense again, and that little tiny seed of hope that you’ve been desperately clutching when it just didn’t make any sense might actually be starting to grow and bloom in your world. <br />
<br />
Looking back, even now, I can see how some of the most painful of days, when the tears flowed and I yelled at God (and believe me I did, I figure He’s God he can handle a little tantrum!) over “life,” had their purpose of pushing me to the spot where God knew I needed to be. I am sure as days and years continue on things will make even more sense and He can use what I have been thru to His benefit somehow.<br />
<br />
Things will never be perfect. As John Mayer sings, “pain throws your heart to the ground.” But the darkness and pain never last a lifetime and every day that I wake up I see another piece of electric blue sky and the warm sun that falls on my face as I look up. Life is good! Still so much joy! I think I will always be the eternal optimist, just can’t help it. Though I might lose sight of it momentarily I know it will come around again. I’ve learned that in the face of it all there are small joys in unexpected places that pull you thru at just the right moment when the thought of giving up is all consuming.<br />
<br />
I’m so grateful for so many things. People, music, friendships, prayer, God…all of them saved me in a time I know I was surely drowning. I mentioned this particular <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mrS92HRidYg">John Mayer</a> song earlier, but I hadn’t heard it in ages until I had the 'ole iPod on “shuffle” today, and it just stuck on repeat all morning. I have a funny habit of doing stuff like that. Like he says, it may not all go the way it should, but I know the heart of life is good. It could not be more true. Enjoy every day you can for you are not promised another. Live life for you, for on your last day here you will not regret it. If you live trying not to offend everyone else, you will only end up offending yourself. Let go of what is behind, after all you cannot write the next chapter of your life if you are too busy re-reading the last one.<br />
<br />
My love to all of you who might read these silly ramblings of strange girl with the unexplainable smile. My wish is for you to “play hooky” on a beautiful sunny spring day, find a grassy field to plant a blanket on, be still and soak up the goodness of life and know that you and your life, they matter. MAKE THE MOST OF IT! You are worth it!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-51961904409996774402012-02-14T21:31:00.000-06:002012-02-14T21:31:11.332-06:00Dear Dove Chocolate: Letters from a Lunatic, Vol V<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3fOyqtJ4_oPLCw4-yB9kYpnT6ftlrvvvz6DILGT1p8A8WEu_6s-WAo4lyMSjWn5pRiWNZ768_2AiHJJERlotKbTnbAO06YZb29avxbJHawOk8H6nHjWqAEY4QKVHKU0fkftaS/s1600/119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3fOyqtJ4_oPLCw4-yB9kYpnT6ftlrvvvz6DILGT1p8A8WEu_6s-WAo4lyMSjWn5pRiWNZ768_2AiHJJERlotKbTnbAO06YZb29avxbJHawOk8H6nHjWqAEY4QKVHKU0fkftaS/s200/119.jpg" width="150" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: red;">Share a Secret</span><br />
<br />
Dear Dove, I’m sure you meant well with this suggestion, but in my experience I have found that this is just not good advice. Dangerous really. Especially when secrets are “accidentally” shared, if you will. You don’t have time to hear my life story, but I assure, sharing secrets comes with a price. So, If it’s all the same to you, I’ll pass on this one…as always, you’re the best! With much hesitation, Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsFeE0R3Kq0cRDpsd-EqypgX6dryqcF4KDF3m_VVVhyphenhyphenuYANUy4aHb7G0XLKtR5ISoYLPOLtH6RZmghmtp66rkaXuTknIwnoHQWQMy5gf0mKiGyj2NU9jC1tdRpZBALb4wEwQd1/s1600/118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsFeE0R3Kq0cRDpsd-EqypgX6dryqcF4KDF3m_VVVhyphenhyphenuYANUy4aHb7G0XLKtR5ISoYLPOLtH6RZmghmtp66rkaXuTknIwnoHQWQMy5gf0mKiGyj2NU9jC1tdRpZBALb4wEwQd1/s200/118.jpg" width="150" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">Share a Sunset</span> <br />
Dear Dove, are you also sending a man with whom I can share said sunset or are you proposing I share it with my chocolate hearts? I’d prefer the former, could you get to work on this please? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjF5mZ2MZGDzYZhcyvBkYnt7_19iddHHW4Jb749H67xO60WIeKGAKIND4Qpb-oo-l52wwFFyPC5vr868u9RwaSOFhTaVceYuuqEk1XgRMU-_9rXbh4ch8dyMme6K9YKPJpmg9s/s1600/120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjF5mZ2MZGDzYZhcyvBkYnt7_19iddHHW4Jb749H67xO60WIeKGAKIND4Qpb-oo-l52wwFFyPC5vr868u9RwaSOFhTaVceYuuqEk1XgRMU-_9rXbh4ch8dyMme6K9YKPJpmg9s/s200/120.jpg" width="200" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: red;">Sleep Under the Stars</span><br />
Dear Dove, You do realize this if winter, right? Hey, I know what you’re trying to do here, you’re tired of my letters and you want me to freeze to death, don’t you. That’s not a loving “valentine-y” thing to say at all! I’m beginning to think you don’t love me. Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHBx2TK7jWPzBFtQNCjA9_Z14EBOoAM7x3UliPaPlpKJLPDv8Ku3CyqMvluOA0BDuUUlv1AUf-hwLMdCAMYh2zLlDB55I6QIF-Eqh7K8xgRY8sSgnpoJtj2DKzofiLajTBEkou/s1600/117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHBx2TK7jWPzBFtQNCjA9_Z14EBOoAM7x3UliPaPlpKJLPDv8Ku3CyqMvluOA0BDuUUlv1AUf-hwLMdCAMYh2zLlDB55I6QIF-Eqh7K8xgRY8sSgnpoJtj2DKzofiLajTBEkou/s200/117.jpg" width="150" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: red;">Watch the sun come up</span><br />
Dear Dove, After your previous suggestions of “sharing the sunset” and “sleeping under the stars” last night , I’m not sure I’ll make it for the sunrise after I hit my snooze button the self-imposed 5 times before actually getting up. And are you providing coffee AND chocolate for this, because I will need both? That’s all I need to know. I will await your answer before attempting these last three . Sincerely, Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Wpg1j2v2l5Y7q_tWA7Ecb-rTvW7NX-Ia1h2mJ1RsFbH3tbywwy3lBaNgukEDJ45wDIjyra-peOx8yDwzpiris_392A0Oit_XrSxFvIaB-E9reWElPAjhp63mz7tYP7oqs6Yc/s1600/112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Wpg1j2v2l5Y7q_tWA7Ecb-rTvW7NX-Ia1h2mJ1RsFbH3tbywwy3lBaNgukEDJ45wDIjyra-peOx8yDwzpiris_392A0Oit_XrSxFvIaB-E9reWElPAjhp63mz7tYP7oqs6Yc/s200/112.jpg" width="200" yda="true" /></a></div><span style="color: red;">Be a little mysterious</span><br />
Dear Dove, What exactly do you mean here? Are you implying that mysterious is good? Because this could mean so many things. There’s mysterious in a creepy kinda way, like “why won’t that girl quit following me?” Then mysterious in a secretive kinda way “I don’t understand where all my clothes are disappearing to, what’s going on here?” or even mysterious in a dumb sense like “I just don’t get it, doesn’t that girl have any common sense?!” This whole suggestion is a mystery to me. Could you elaborate please? I’m always up for learning new things! Ever the eager, SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-31463938220936957392012-02-09T21:25:00.003-06:002012-02-09T21:44:27.500-06:00Dear Dove Chocolate: Letters from a Lunatic, Vol IV<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9qwVwO2eFD2LsJcfIAVUWD4eja0TE5d1QFwVjRW1NHBPv4ak9em_DRo_IVtUnDnd8YtyvR82OzHSgXwOJR3BP8-_7rN3hjhPncIXODa9S3HobqjGARvPfrdf37N8EdGnJzZgR/s1600/123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9qwVwO2eFD2LsJcfIAVUWD4eja0TE5d1QFwVjRW1NHBPv4ak9em_DRo_IVtUnDnd8YtyvR82OzHSgXwOJR3BP8-_7rN3hjhPncIXODa9S3HobqjGARvPfrdf37N8EdGnJzZgR/s200/123.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: red;">Linger Over Chocolate Longer</span><br />
Dear Dove, I don’t know about you…something about this just seems creepy. You’re starting to freak me out a little. Your concerned friend, Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwincPyUPOvAp3Q39KZzVK5AyQC_6N6COeM577g5RTXhDHtDGey9eC7psAxEaNQtWe-nLvzYHP48IKuELt5LyM8glF8nedjuSf6rAlreS5JNv57av19RpnpxZCSTZrORha1D2/s1600/115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwincPyUPOvAp3Q39KZzVK5AyQC_6N6COeM577g5RTXhDHtDGey9eC7psAxEaNQtWe-nLvzYHP48IKuELt5LyM8glF8nedjuSf6rAlreS5JNv57av19RpnpxZCSTZrORha1D2/s200/115.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: red;">Discover How Much Your Heart Can Hold</span><br />
Dear Dove, If we’re talking good stuff here I’d say my heart is a bottomless pit. If it’s not good stuff then I’m sorry, my heart is closed for donations. Had my share and let that junk go. Thanks for the suggestion but this one I’ve got covered! Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCHJhCelyBIsT7iJ7xZ_nVQjNJt3b9qdwxQ9UtBQXmXwtqs79pNqeo2jvJjPu88iOtedESSeVSbUDrrtfl1296kdG_zSKhyPuqNVnSHgQS5CPnhls1zCyezzCkNaQj4tZygLAy/s1600/110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCHJhCelyBIsT7iJ7xZ_nVQjNJt3b9qdwxQ9UtBQXmXwtqs79pNqeo2jvJjPu88iOtedESSeVSbUDrrtfl1296kdG_zSKhyPuqNVnSHgQS5CPnhls1zCyezzCkNaQj4tZygLAy/s200/110.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: red;">Do something spontaneous</span><br />
Dear Dove, do you mean like that one Saturday morning in June when I spontaneously decided to go to my sister’s garage sale. Then saw that red shiny little “toy” for sale and let her husband tell me, “Oh you can drive it, it’s just like a bicycle with a motor.” Then OOPS I spontaneously slammed into that curb, laid the thing over, got horrible road rash, was on crutches for a week and ended up underneath an Expedition and had to pay a $500 deductable for totaling it out? I think spontaneity might be a bit overrated. Just sayin’. Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkSqNvkCXUx4Pa0Y7HQ00v2co8v_ENDVV8vNawu-h1vIcBUi2X6uzbkHTx2EkNZkVLWKXz8raYtXyJL5prdZNWXu8Rm8tYDtcnZue67Kb95qvThR2j-gvzVDYYxZmvJNueNDg0/s1600/113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkSqNvkCXUx4Pa0Y7HQ00v2co8v_ENDVV8vNawu-h1vIcBUi2X6uzbkHTx2EkNZkVLWKXz8raYtXyJL5prdZNWXu8Rm8tYDtcnZue67Kb95qvThR2j-gvzVDYYxZmvJNueNDg0/s200/113.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span style="color: red;">Remember Your First Crush</span><br />
Dear Dove, My first crush was in the fourth grade, his name was Kyle and he had the blondest of blonde hair I’d ever seen. I remember he liked me too and even said so after his friends called me over at recess and tackled and tickled him incessantly until he admitted that he did indeed like me. We were MFEO (made for each other) as they say in Sleepless in Seattle… well, until he took first place in the fourth grade spelling bee and I was the runner up. Then it was over. What was the point of this little exercise again? To remind me where my overachieving issues began? Thanks a lot! SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-35009864034719795502012-02-06T20:34:00.001-06:002012-02-06T20:37:21.660-06:00Dear Dove Chocolate: Letters from a Lunatic, Vol III<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLrkdKuGyd7XW23dajCY7hWU_khf7fYdUd3F3YNKlEk6J7ip01aPKBj6aIVc2asQvRE30YI4V3QMBF9bDWFye_pviaBHte6_5fv7QN8yfN3aEZpqs0-lna3ALhukuePC05hlG/s1600/121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLrkdKuGyd7XW23dajCY7hWU_khf7fYdUd3F3YNKlEk6J7ip01aPKBj6aIVc2asQvRE30YI4V3QMBF9bDWFye_pviaBHte6_5fv7QN8yfN3aEZpqs0-lna3ALhukuePC05hlG/s200/121.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: red;">Hug Someone Today</span><br />
Dear Dove, I’m a little surprised at you. Don’t you know in this day and age a person can get into real trouble for doing something like this? Haven’t you ever heard of sexual harassment? What if I hugged somebody that didn’t want to be hugged? If I get sued over this one, you’ll be hearing from me…and my attorney. Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgluakyLgclsO555C82_zLF5_lfKeAEscfMlAJVRR8pa-NQkuEoMzK582-cUledV9ShK1OfRVtLKfG4TUVwkAm-KcYXS05K6nay45lbZ9bAynrWMhaTwQo5xCUF5wJW-WpKJo0B/s1600/111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgluakyLgclsO555C82_zLF5_lfKeAEscfMlAJVRR8pa-NQkuEoMzK582-cUledV9ShK1OfRVtLKfG4TUVwkAm-KcYXS05K6nay45lbZ9bAynrWMhaTwQo5xCUF5wJW-WpKJo0B/s200/111.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: red;">Listen with Your Heart</span><br />
Dear Dove, This is another one I’ve tried that just didn’t work out so well for me. My heart said he was nice, my heart said he was sweet…. So, I let myself get carried away…then my heart got broke. Apparently my heart needs some hearing aids. OK, now I’m gonna need about 10 more chocolate hearts to eat right away to console myself while I have a good cry. Thanks for nothing! Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrL2xXmCXmMw_09GbDNBcqWTQ1eIPMBVnbxsQ6C6vFrvUaOQN7e5f5sfAbsUjkMk4R8xCWhPVYX326dUAOWaHyr9TGj3VXAzxp0o3d51AvXtr5OWAGtuP1ppbks8y6Cd9R3O0X/s1600/116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrL2xXmCXmMw_09GbDNBcqWTQ1eIPMBVnbxsQ6C6vFrvUaOQN7e5f5sfAbsUjkMk4R8xCWhPVYX326dUAOWaHyr9TGj3VXAzxp0o3d51AvXtr5OWAGtuP1ppbks8y6Cd9R3O0X/s200/116.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: red;">Exercise Your Heart</span><br />
Dear Dove, After taking your advice on the following heart and wallowing in my 10 extra pieces, yes unfortunately, now my heart will need extra exercising to work off all the calories you made me eat after throwing me into the depths of despair. I figure I’m now going to have to run at least 5 extra miles just to work that off. UGH. You are not my friend! Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFBjVihHWUsG4gvbSSHF_FDfsE-MMFJIG-7PBSdR-gkYb09EJ4XBwnKgRkTPP0z3OGbjR7QRHLlL4fuzIrmKgsK1hvXE8DhWJxcVuM3cx64k5L1wwZzpjLG_pOJAfM-fYhzgZ/s1600/114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFBjVihHWUsG4gvbSSHF_FDfsE-MMFJIG-7PBSdR-gkYb09EJ4XBwnKgRkTPP0z3OGbjR7QRHLlL4fuzIrmKgsK1hvXE8DhWJxcVuM3cx64k5L1wwZzpjLG_pOJAfM-fYhzgZ/s200/114.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: red;">Make Someone Melt Today</span><br />
Dear Dove, Yeah, I’d sure like to make a few people melt today! Unfortunately, I don’t possess laser beam eyes that would melt them away in seconds. I tried throwing water on them, but they don’t melt like the Wicked Witch of the West, and it’s just too much work to carry around my huge boiling cauldron. I guess I’m just not cut out to be a Villain. Sadly, SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-19199661889733034742012-02-02T20:10:00.001-06:002012-02-02T20:12:16.686-06:00Dear Dove Chocolate: Letters from a Lunatic, Vol. II<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT5HZx0ElDxbav7oWRaiA-1vTN-5bIKYicpedcWDpAD1wuzuGBlQunEbOX8cBrbtp2pHGyCSfOIq-UtDA6ENOPNC-QQjF2FC5ispPEKpRjgBcDJgK1PXZdUAEjTf5fgaxkG8nD/s1600/088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT5HZx0ElDxbav7oWRaiA-1vTN-5bIKYicpedcWDpAD1wuzuGBlQunEbOX8cBrbtp2pHGyCSfOIq-UtDA6ENOPNC-QQjF2FC5ispPEKpRjgBcDJgK1PXZdUAEjTf5fgaxkG8nD/s200/088.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><span style="color: red;">Get swept away by love</span><br />
Dear Dove, I did this once. It didn’t work out so well for me. Perhaps in certain situations it’s best to use one’s head and not the heart. After all, I love your dark chocolate, but if I let myself get swept away by such love I’d weigh 400 pounds. Poorly done, Dove. I’m just not sure how well thought out this one was. You can do better. I’m saying this as your friend. I’m here if you need me. Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLKg3sp7ldRhFrjwUw161E4Ha5E9wbb9LgrjFRS-obWEUygcpp3fNaJPaG8-z64WujDBw9yUY-qTUhv8LSeqXVJQ5ckb7aHfwpM4aquugdYZfpHDdqfor-c8QVpN6EDjpQeq3/s1600/137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLKg3sp7ldRhFrjwUw161E4Ha5E9wbb9LgrjFRS-obWEUygcpp3fNaJPaG8-z64WujDBw9yUY-qTUhv8LSeqXVJQ5ckb7aHfwpM4aquugdYZfpHDdqfor-c8QVpN6EDjpQeq3/s200/137.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><span style="color: red;">The best things in life are chocolate</span><br />
Dear Dove, Ummm, no. Not even close. I can name several things better than chocolate, but this is a G rated letter so I will refrain. Did you just get lazy with this one? Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hDkZ_4zZnd7ZTUrRSGG0RkD-mNyGcN4dmsQHmFxPGlVphTWpVnU57CsICyTAJ-8sIgiXrsB5FLSoffL9SJdPgegDfRQvjmlaVIiZ1QLFk7UMm5t68X1dTxYTzuJsN4b5i_8r/s1600/124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hDkZ_4zZnd7ZTUrRSGG0RkD-mNyGcN4dmsQHmFxPGlVphTWpVnU57CsICyTAJ-8sIgiXrsB5FLSoffL9SJdPgegDfRQvjmlaVIiZ1QLFk7UMm5t68X1dTxYTzuJsN4b5i_8r/s200/124.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><span style="color: red;">Be your own Valentine</span><br />
Dear Dove, I don’t get it?! Please help, Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0F0M35axLSMFRlOY8eCs4jbixH9LdVMevdCy8ngfKZ5lVkCkeLzS6_s5CrjqQtFWUuwNTM29vZ_bFsR5Rn8Ay_PZub7qnbAwRbaM2HJnC80cDBy9FvpDNv3vIlLhL8ciuxm41/s1600/122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0F0M35axLSMFRlOY8eCs4jbixH9LdVMevdCy8ngfKZ5lVkCkeLzS6_s5CrjqQtFWUuwNTM29vZ_bFsR5Rn8Ay_PZub7qnbAwRbaM2HJnC80cDBy9FvpDNv3vIlLhL8ciuxm41/s200/122.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><span style="color: red;">Savor Small Romantic Moments</span><br />
Dear Dove, In your last message you told me to be my own Valentine. I’m just curious, exactly what kind of romantic moments do you think I should savor with myself? Sicko. SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-69401932125077703302012-02-01T21:38:00.003-06:002012-02-01T21:57:44.030-06:00Dear Dove Chocolate: Letters from a LunaticYears ago in my first job right out of college I had the great pleasure, and I do mean that as it was the best job I ever had, of reading letters written to the Congressman I worked for. Most of them were of the boring nature, you know, about bills and such. Some irate, some mean, a few grateful ones here and there. But what I lived for were those occasional letters we received that you had to question the mental state of the writer. They were always great fun and if I had the time I would often write a good response to share only with the office staff. Those were the best fun! <br />
<br />
I miss those days of writing quipey responses to the "crazies." So, when I got myself a Valentine's bag of Dove dark chocolate hearts I discovered they added little messages inside the wrappers and my wacky writing days came flooding back. I thought I would share these with you in a series until Valentine's Day. Without further ado, I give the first installment of "Dear Dove Chocolate..." <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-oajdy-VJiutvFDk2FFkUpDVo3iKr6Bv8gaaHwJF0RrBjbz9KsQfyQroJfaPL9Qfx3-bwlu3d1C_Mo71DvmHFvEE8vX-jTzsHhGTt00w-cmq1ryXX9m8RxOeO3xVaYjK2Ucn/s1600/094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-oajdy-VJiutvFDk2FFkUpDVo3iKr6Bv8gaaHwJF0RrBjbz9KsQfyQroJfaPL9Qfx3-bwlu3d1C_Mo71DvmHFvEE8vX-jTzsHhGTt00w-cmq1ryXX9m8RxOeO3xVaYjK2Ucn/s200/094.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><span style="color: #cc0000;">Laugh until your heart overflows</span><br />
Why thank you Dove for the lovely suggestion but I think I'm going to need more info before I commit to this. Overflows with what exactly? Perhaps I don't want this to happen. After all, I have two kids, I’m not overly fond of cleaning up messes. Could you please provide more details? Great, thanks, you’re a peach! Love your dark chocolate! Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRyvtNK31IFik8fA5uAjEYNLjCH7e9XrCfGglaqkNEBLFYUDr6wr1vAoDcSFcqF4mhgarIBI83wJRINTPSZm5a9NXHH_T9gN-c2zUSinPddd6qi1VBnKoZAEnTd43CzN8lAt3v/s1600/091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRyvtNK31IFik8fA5uAjEYNLjCH7e9XrCfGglaqkNEBLFYUDr6wr1vAoDcSFcqF4mhgarIBI83wJRINTPSZm5a9NXHH_T9gN-c2zUSinPddd6qi1VBnKoZAEnTd43CzN8lAt3v/s200/091.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><span style="color: #cc0000;">Chocolate. Always your Valentine</span><br />
Dear Dove, I have a bone to pick with you. How dare you! I’ll have you know that I have NEVER received chocolate (or flowers or PJ’s or anything but a card for that matter) for Valentine’s day. Are you just trying to rub it in? Now I think you’re just a big meanie. Just so you understand how offended I am, I will boycott your dark chocolate for one day….well, ok, that might be a little extreme. I’ll just wait until dinner instead of having my chocolate heart for lunch. Jerks. Sarah <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdfoV6KIh3OvnX7LmqNQ5dPXSVZj6yo5ROhXaZyiFO6CcOOcr-6UDkS0LiZQZ7q8IAEeTOB7bBxsQ5QDwmPx3or5WGFfjFGpkTNcneurrp81KRPoXm2_B53bS4Fn7PKwCzlFr/s1600/093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdfoV6KIh3OvnX7LmqNQ5dPXSVZj6yo5ROhXaZyiFO6CcOOcr-6UDkS0LiZQZ7q8IAEeTOB7bBxsQ5QDwmPx3or5WGFfjFGpkTNcneurrp81KRPoXm2_B53bS4Fn7PKwCzlFr/s200/093.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><span style="color: #cc0000;">Go where your heart takes you</span><br />
Dear Dove, what lovely advice!!! My heart keeps taking me to Hawaii so I guess that’s where I’ll go. Since it was at your suggestion I do this I’ll be expecting my plane ticket in the mail by the end of the week. What do you mean that’s not what you meant? Then what did you mean? Surely you are not suggesting that I foot the bill for such frivolity?! After all it was your prompting that spurred this decision to begin with. OK, then, now that we have that settled when will my ticket be arriving? SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-23574118624362154362012-01-26T21:53:00.001-06:002012-01-26T22:14:58.272-06:00Reasons Why I RunI read an article today by a lady who proposed 10 reasons that running is not so bad. They ranged from everything from being able to stare at hot guys running in little clothing to the freedom to be sweaty and totally un-lady-like without shame. I started running in 2006 and I have to say I’m still not assuredly convinced that “running is not so bad.” To tell the truth, after all this time, most days I still dislike the first mile of any run. Can’t tell you why, just is what it is. I have just gotten to the point where I don’t give myself an option, no out, the decision has already been made to run, so I do it. <br />
<br />
Owing to this particular article I started thinking about the reasons I run. I may not even make it to 10, but here goes…. I’m not even saying they are good reasons, but none-the-less, reasons just the same<br />
<ul><li>As a girl who grew up overweight, it was something I never thought I'd be able to do</li>
<li>When I told my mom I was going to run my first half-marathon her exact words were "It just seems silly, I don't understand WHY you would want to do that?!" Believe it or not, this mostly straight-laced girl has a rebellious streak and there's nothing I enjoy more than making people choke down a little crow. Sorry, Mom, Love ya! :)</li>
<li>Because at the end of every run, whether it was good or bad, I've never regretted doing it</li>
<li>The overachieving high school kid in me still has a sad need to collect medals</li>
<li>It‘s relatively cheap, I can run anywhere I want for the most part, no gym fees and always a good change of scenery</li>
<li>Because for however many miles I run, I’m alone with my thoughts. I can think, pray, cuss, cry, reason with myself or whatever I need to do without anyone bothering me or asking me what’s wrong. Just for the record, I think there’s been a couple of runs when I’ve done all the above.</li>
<li>It’s a great excuse for buying clothes and shoes – oh wait, scratch that, I never needed a reason for shoe shopping </li>
<li>Because I always feel better after a run</li>
<li>It's simple, just move!</li>
<li>I love that I burn roughly 100 calories for every 10 minutes I run! </li>
</ul>I really love to travel and one of the things I'd love to do is traipse all over the globe and run a half in all different parts of the world. And just because you have nothing better to do (HAHA!) here's my top contenders for that dream.<br />
<br />
1) DisneyWorld Half -Marathon<br />
2) The Rock n' Roll Marathon Series - Madrid, Spain sounds good for that one or San Diego, CA<br />
3) Chicago Marathon<br />
4) The Flying Pirate Half - Outer Banks, NC<br />
5) The Air Force Marathon - Dayton, OH<br />
6) The Maui Marathon - FOR SURE SIGN ME UP TO RUN IN PARADISE!!!!!<br />
7) The San Francisco MarathonSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-15810269105963158162012-01-18T21:56:00.001-06:002012-01-18T21:59:09.074-06:00Hello, my name is Sarah, and I'm a messIt is said the first step in every recovery is admitting you have a problem. Well, there it is for you in black and white for the WorldWideWeb to see. And no, I do not need a 12 step program, thank you. I’m just a recovering perfectionist, that’s all. <br />
<br />
<strong><em>"At day’s end I’m ready for sound sleep, for you, God, have put my life back together.”</em></strong><br />
Psalm 4:8<br />
<br />
I love reading The Message translation of the Bible. It’s a completely different perspective on verses I’ve probably read 100 times. After all, I’ve been going to church all my life, heard most every Bible story at least 20 times…how else do you manage to keep something real and fresh after that long? This verse especially struck me for obvious reasons. <br />
<br />
Ok, so I must admit that maybe not every day feels this way, but only in a perfect world would it ever, and for now at least I live on earth so it’s not even a remote possibility! But I’m feeling more and more this way every day – just so incredibly blessed! Life by nature is just is a mess. I’ve come to accept this. I’ve quit striving for that perfection that doesn’t exist. No matter what I do my life will always be somewhat of a mess, some messes smaller than other, but it’s always something. Sure makes things a lot easier to realize you’re not perfect and never will be! No matter what your circumstances, history or your future, that reality just is what it is. Everybody has their issues. I’m just so thankful there is a God in my life and people around me who have loved me and held me up in the middle of my worst messes and when my life was in no way shape or form - together. <br />
<br />
God’s glory is evident in my life for the very simple reason that my world is very much less than stellar. Only in my chaos can His blessings truly be illuminated for all to see. So for all of you feeling your mess is too much for God, too much for others or too much for you – I say RELAX! He’s got this one…and the next and the next and the next… He wants you and your mess so He can put your life back together they way He wants. And He will bless you abundantly in the process. For you who have loved me thru dramatic “Lifetimes Movie” story lines and guaranteed messes to come, I am grateful. I love you all in your imperfect craziness too. Know that if you are struggling today rest easy, He will put your life back together too, and I’m always here if you need me.<br />
May you sleep soundly, knowing that storms never last forever, but He does!<br />
<br />
La Vita Bella!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-70900737631646576132012-01-17T21:14:00.001-06:002012-01-17T21:39:29.176-06:00Freakin' Goldfish Crackers!I blame my first grade teacher for my unhealthy obsession with Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Crackers. See, every day at the end of the day if we had a good day, didn't cause any trouble, were good in class, my first grade teacher Ms. Karen would reward us as we left the classroom with a single little small Goldfish cracker she would drop in our mouth like a mama bird as we walked out the door.<br />
<br />
I loved those tiny little crackers and I always wanted more than one. I'm sure I probably begged Ms. Karen on more than one occasion for at least two. I am sure this is where my obsession with overachieving came from. Goodness knows it was the end of the world if I did not get a little fishy cracker. <br />
<br />
For years after my first grade experience with Goldfish crackers I always remembered how much I loved those things and how they tasted and how I wanted more. I am sure I had them at times after first grade, but I don't really remember having them again until I was an adult and bought them myself. I don't know if it's just my nature or just remembering thru the eyes of a first grader, but I simply cannot control myself when it comes to those freaking Goldfish crackers! UGH. <br />
<br />
Now, my girls love them and want to have them for a "snack." I literally cannot contain myself around them. I have to have at least a serving of them every time, can't just have one or two or fifteen...a serving FIFTY FIVE of them, yeah that's right. I literally count them out....well, except for tonight when I had 523 calories left to eat for the day and just poured out a cup of them and couldn't even enjoy them one at a time, it was more like five, and couldn't wait to get the next ones in my mouth. <br />
<br />
Was it first grade that cursed me with this sickness or am I just nuts? Or maybe both. Whatever the case I'm just not sure but I just can't help myself around the freakin' Goldfish crackers! UGH. I think I need to talk the girls into a snack of a different type, one I don't have "issues" with. So, there you have it, my Achilles heal - Goldfish Crackers. Who'd a thunk it?! Bet you didn't! ;)Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-68918243791449828412012-01-11T21:17:00.001-06:002012-01-11T21:20:10.551-06:00My Favorite NameI’ve had some pretty awesome and pretty rotten jobs in my work history thus far. Everything from rubbing elbows with some of the most well-known of political figures to forays into the depths of the worst parts of this town to drudge up drug addicted individuals who’ve neglected their kids. But by far, the best job I’ve ever had comes with the simple title of “Mom.” <br />
<br />
Sure the job came with sleepless nights, extra laundry, potty training, horrid permanent stretch marks and, in my case since I was roughly the size of a VW Beetle, repairs requiring nothing short of a tummy tuck. However, along with those things came the greatest joy I’ve ever known, love in it’s purest form, laughter of the best kind and gratefulness for the tiny glimpse of what my heavenly Father’s love for me must be like. <br />
<br />
The job certainly has never been anything flashy or notable to most, but to two smallish type people in my home I know it means something. I think anyone who is a parent knows that most days just simply feel like routine; up, dressed, eat, school, home, eat, homework, showers, bed – and repeat! But somewhere in the midst of that routine you find that you really are molding the form of a grown-up-to-be. For me that comes in all kinds of forms from terrifying to ecstatic. Sure I do all I can to try to teach my girls the right, moral, good way to do things, but what I don’t always realize is that just their presence teaches me to be a better person too. So many times I find myself faced with decisions to be made and situations and people to be dealt with and my barometer is usually “When my girls get older and find out about my life what do I want them to think about me and my actions?” <br />
<br />
It’s not always easy to go along with the actions I think would make them most proud of me as a person and mom someday, but I suppose that’s what having kids is all about; sacrifice. Despite the awesome responsibility, early Saturday mornings, extra laundry, and occasional sick duty, “Mommy” is the best job in the whole entire world. My girls are my conscience, my joy and my sanity. At times they were the only reason to get out of bed when I would have rather wallowed in self-pity. No such chance with them, and for that I am truly blessed! My cup runs over!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-7662701441584602772012-01-09T21:55:00.001-06:002012-01-09T22:03:47.902-06:00Things I've never done...This morning as I drove to work in rush hour traffic I saw a huge stretch limo rolling down the highway and I thought to myself, "I'd like to ride in one of those someday..." and the wheels began to turn in my head and I thought about all the things I've never done. Some I'd like to do, others maybe not not-so-much.<br />
<br />
People make much ado about having a bucket list. I don't really have one of those, but upon the sighting of the limo this morning things just started popping into my head, so here you go!<br />
<br />
Things I've never done but would like to do...<br />
<ul><li>Ride in a limo</li>
<li>Eat at Big Truck Tacos</li>
<li>Go to Ireland</li>
<li>See the Grand Canyon</li>
<li>Sky diving - a tandem jump, that is...</li>
<li>Get my concealed carry license</li>
<li>See the NY Jets play live</li>
<li>Drive a lap around a Nascar track</li>
<li>See lighthouses in Maine in the fall</li>
<li>Ride a zip line</li>
<li>Do a mini-triathalon</li>
<li>See Adele in Concert</li>
<li>Eat Sushi (maybe - still on the fence on this one)</li>
<li>Enjoy coffee at sunrise wrapped up in a blanket with somebody who loves me</li>
<li>Have a piar of Manolo Blahnik shoes on my feet</li>
<li>Go on a cruise</li>
<li>Take a photography class</li>
</ul><br />
Things I've never done but don't really mind...<br />
<ul><li>Bungee jump</li>
<li>Own a face shredding monkey</li>
<li>Snowboarding</li>
<li>Eat bugs</li>
<li>Visit Iran</li>
<li>Own a snake</li>
<li>Ride in a hot air balloon</li>
<li>Be a contestant on "The Bachelor"</li>
<li>Attend a hip-hop concert</li>
<li>Wrestle an alligator</li>
<li>Attend any event hosted by the Habana Inn</li>
<li>Drive a motorcycle (I'll just ride, if it's all the same to you)</li>
</ul>I'm sure there's more I could add, but I guess you get the picture! :)Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-18697596563181435452012-01-04T21:34:00.002-06:002012-01-04T22:21:05.811-06:00A dream is a wish your heart makes...Here we are, four days into the New Year and yet this is the first you’ve heard from me. I just know you missed me! :) Here I was, so excited for a fresh new set of 12 months, and now find myself all dumbstruck. Perhaps its writers block or maybe just being free from the weariness and heaviness of the past 12 months that forever have left their mark on not only my life, but those in my life too, has left me a bit speechless. In my perfectionism I was feeling this pressure of needing to write something profound for the first post of 2012. However, I had an epiphany on my run this evening (I told you, running is good for the mind too). I am neither brilliant nor profound, I’m just me - plain, simple, weird little me. Why then should my silly musings be anything other than what they always have been, just a slice of who I am and what goes on in my head (you might want to shiver at this point, it could get scary).<br />
<br />
Owing to my excitement over crossing that midnight threshold into this new year, I’ve been mulling over a quote from my favorite author, C.S. Lewis. <em>“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”</em> Thinking about all my hopes, dreams, and wishes for what this new year might bring in my world, I know that obviously I have little control over my surroundings, but I do have control over my own self and my thoughts and actions. So, I’ll just do what I can, set my goals and hope for those dreams, and trust that God will shore up my inevitable short-comings and honor my heart being in the right place. <br />
<br />
If you have known me for any length of time you know that my all time favorite Disney princess is Cinderella. Even I, at the age of 32, had to have my picture taken with her when we went to Disneyworld – and I’ll do it again the next time I’m there too! There was always something so hopeful to me about her story. Little orphaned cinder girl becomes a Princess thing, maybe. What I love about the story is that even in the midst of serving her nasty step family, she never copped an ugly attitude, and she never stopped dreaming that one day her life would be all she wanted and hoped for. My parents somehow instilled in me the same spirit. Dream big, work hard, keep the right attitude, and let God take care of the rest. I pray that I will pass that same thing to my girls. <br />
<br />
Sure, things happen you never planned, but this is life and unfortunately we live in a fallen imperfect world. What I have come to understand is that when things happen and dreams die, God is loving and gracious enough to give us new dreams and desires if we let Him. The trick is, in our humanness, most of the time we think ourselves unworthy of His favor, and honestly, we are. But He doesn’t give it because we deserve it, but because He loves us. Know that God wants desperately to shower his favor upon your life - no wait, not shower, He wants to SOAK you in his favor. My challenge to you this year is to realize that yeah, you don’t deserve it but he loves you so get over yourself and LET Him bless you beyond your comfort zone. Who cares what everyone else thinks! Trust me, when you let go of your pride and allow yourself to live in His blessings, you will be far too happy and blessed to care what all those “religious” types think. They’re just jealous anyway. Besides, who are you to refuse His blessings? I bet your kids wouldn’t turn down all the good stuff you could give them, so why would you do that to your heavenly father who is a more perfect giver than we ever thought of being. <br />
<br />
I have some very serious and perhaps some quite silly hopes for this new year, but they are all still desires of my heart and I know without a doubt that my Father cares about each and every one of them. So, I will try my best “to be still and know” that He is God and I will watch as he pours out His favor upon my life and those around me. I pray that you will do the same. Dream new dreams, BIG dreams, and watch Him do great things in your life. He wants to, I promise!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-37859288993069304602011-12-27T21:20:00.000-06:002011-12-27T21:20:19.391-06:00All I need to know I learned in 2011...There are not words descriptive enough to convey my elation that this year is days from being over. If you have had any contact with me whatsoever in the last month you have undoubtedly heard the words "2012 BELONGS to me! Next year is going to be a GREAT year for me." Just in case you were in doubt, these are not empty words ringing in your ears from my mouth. I mean them and I <em>believe </em>them with all my heart. <br />
<br />
I have been thinking of all the happenings of this year, of the lessons it has taught me, what I have learned about myself and what I have learned about others. So tonight I hope you don't mind if I share some of these things with you. <br />
<ul><li>I cannot manage to keep my car clean. This year I have accepted this sad truth and shall deal with myself accordingly.</li>
<li>A garbage disposal is more important than you think (My letter to Santa was apparently lost in the mail. Still don't have one!)</li>
<li>One spur of the moment decision can change your life forever - (IE...going home early from work unannounced; chasing down your wayward cat....need I go on?)</li>
<li>People can be amazingly mean and hurtful - on purpose </li>
<li>True friends are worth more than all the gold in the world. They are the ones that will stand beside you when the crap is flying</li>
<li>Guard your heart, nobody else can do it right</li>
<li>When it comes down to it, for once in my life, I want a man who will fight for me - because I'm worth the effort</li>
<li>I have learned in the most cruel of lessons how it feels to be used, betrayed and devastated</li>
<li>I'm a little bit crazy - and I'm OK with that.</li>
<li>Exercise is is my sanity. It's as good for my mind as my body</li>
<li>It's OK to let go, and it's OK to dream new dreams (although this is much harder to convince myself of some days)</li>
<li>Blondes do not necessarily have more fun</li>
<li>The iPhone 4S's Siri can be great entertainment, especially when she advises your sister to go to the "bitch gym" and tells her to watch her language</li>
<li>If you hear high heels, don't automatically assume it's a woman</li>
<li>Just when you think your heart can't possibly break anymore, it does</li>
<li>There are people who actually mean it when they say "I'm praying for you"</li>
<li>Being strong comes out of necessity, not by choice</li>
<li>An "I love you" from your child can save you on a day when you think it's all for naught</li>
<li>It is possible to be feeling the highest of highs at 2am and the lowest of lows by 2pm on the same day</li>
<li>How it feels to inexplicably find yourself in tears while doing the most routine and mundane of tasks, and you can't even explain why</li>
<li>The value of a smile over the smallest of things</li>
<li>Never underestimate the power of 8 consecutive, uninterrupted hours of sleep</li>
<li>Good coffee is a pleasure not to be taken lightly</li>
<li>Leaving your egg and cheese sandwich on top of the car as you hurriedly back out of the driveway is not advisable and does nothing for a set of dishes or your screaming tummy </li>
<li>Low expectations of everyone is not necessarily a bad thing and can save you much disappointment and heartache</li>
<li>The true meaning of Grace and Forgiveness and how both are necessary not so much for others as for your own peace and contentment</li>
<li>$h!t happens, but I'm not a victim and I am not pitiful. I am powerful</li>
<li>What a true comfort music is - playing it, listening to it and wallowing in it</li>
<li>The healing gift of laughter and what a gift God gave me in my uncanny propensity to laugh at ridiculously stupid things until water comes out my nose and tears are flowing</li>
<li>The true meaning of "state of shock"</li>
<li>Real, true, deep heartbreak and pain is not something you "get over." Rather it is something you learn to live with</li>
<li>I really love to dance, especially in the living room with the girls when they shake their head and say "Mommy, you are so embarrassing!" :)</li>
<li>Taking the high road generally sucks, but is usually the right and adult thing to do</li>
<li>Mixing to much tequila and beer with the worst birthday in the history of all birthdays results in dances with sweaty bull riders, men who bathe in cologne and the involuntary testing of the "upchuck reflexes" and brings no sleep and absolutely no comfort. Trust me, you don't wanna go there</li>
<li>Being nice does not equate to being a doormat. My feelings are just as important as anybody else's</li>
<li>How much I love that my girls say "KABLOOEEE!!!!" and "Oopsies" - I'll be sad when they stop</li>
<li>God still has good plans for my future and my girls</li>
</ul>And THE most valuable thing I learned this year is: <strong><em>God IS with me, God WAS with me, and He WILL ALWAYS be with me. </em></strong>No matter how much I may feel alone, I'm not.<br />
<br />
<em>The more I give thee, the more I have. For both are infinite - William Shakespeare</em>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-12289207696734407362011-12-14T21:48:00.001-06:002011-12-14T22:40:32.644-06:00"...and a pawtwidge in a peah twee!"This morning as I was brushing my daughter’s hair for school she was happily singing “The Twelve Days of Christmas” which mostly consisted of her singing the words “something something something” and “Mee mee mee meee mee mee” (think Beaker from the Muppets here) to the melody of the song until she busted out loudly “FIVE GOLD RINGS!!!!” Then she counted down, “Four calling birds, three something hens, two turtle dumbs…” I started laughing, “WAIT!!! Rachel, did you just say two turtle DUMBS!?” I asked. “Yes!” she looked at me with that “Duh, mom” face, like I had just asked her if the sky was blue. “It’s not two turtle DUMBS it’s two turtle DOVES!” Then came that other look, you know, the one your kid gives you when they think you are the biggest moron in the world and they know better, and she retorted, “TURTLE DOVES??!!” throwing her hands up in the air to question me. “That doesn’t even make any sense! How can turtles be doves?” She pretended to ignore this discovery of new information and went on about her song, “Two turtle dumbs…” she sang. Then with her little sweet lisp she finished it off, “…and a pahtwidge in a peah twee!!” By this time I was laughing so hard I was crying. I know, I know, it’s not nice to laugh at your children, but sometimes it just simply cannot be helped.<br />
<br />
We have all undoubtedly heard, and many of us can dutifully recite, the lyrics of the song “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” I would wager a guess that most everyone gets a little tangled up on the “twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a-leaping, nine ladies dancing…” part, then you can sort of pick it up again at the “eight maids a-milking” usually. If you ask someone where they think the song came from and what they think it means you get a wide plethora of opinions. <br />
<br />
Most believe it’s just a lover’s song written about gifts given to woo and win a coveted heart. Last year it was said that the total cost of all the gifts in the song totaled would cost you $23,439. Quite an expensive Christmas! Not to mention, what would one do with Twelve Drummers Drumming – that would get old fast! I certainly don’t have any place to keep eight maids a-milking and their cows…I’m afraid my barn just crumbled to bits last year. Ten Lords a-leaping – well, I’ll FIND a place to keep them! <br />
<br />
There has also been a deeper scholarly opinion written about the song. That it was written during a time in England when practicing Catholicism was a punishable crime and the song was a Catechism Song with each gift representing things such as Jesus (Partridge in a pear tree), to the twelve points of the Apostle’s Creed (twelve drummer’s drumming), and the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit (Seven swans a-swimming). <br />
<br />
No matter what the case it’s quite a catchy little song with renditions ranging from The Muppets to more serious singers such Burl Ives, Bing Crosby and John Denver. My very favorite version of this song was done by the group Straight No Chaser, an acapella group of guys whose talent and creativity in arranging music is as good as their vocal talent. So, please take a couple of minutes and enjoy the Twelve Days of Christmas and have a smile. C’mon you know you can’t help it when you hear this!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Fe11OlMiz8&feature=relmfu">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Fe11OlMiz8&feature=relmfu</a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-45995346909532075462011-12-12T21:29:00.000-06:002011-12-12T21:29:37.731-06:00Jingle Bells, Batman Smells...So, who can have Christmas without the song Jingle Bells?! Nobody! But here’s something you may not have known. Jingle Bells was written by James Pierpont in 1850 depicting stories of sleigh races held on Salem Street in Massachusetts in the early 1800’s. Oh, and did I also mention it was written and sung for Thanksgiving originally? Seems very strange to me, but perhaps back in the 1800’s sleigh races were to Thanksgiving what Football is to Thanksgiving these days. <br />
<br />
<br />
It’s also strange that this of all Christmas songs has probably had the most paradies done of it than any other. I know you can all think of a few remakes of it…”Jingle Bells, Batman smells…” …you undoubtedly get the gist. Jingle Bells was the very first Christmas song my girls ever learned to sing, and of course, the very first one they learned an alternative version of as well. <br />
<br />
No matter what the case, every time I hear it I have to sing along. It’s a fun happy song and I think of what it might have been like to live back in the days of horses and sleighs. Piling into one with your sweetheart and snuggling down under blankets and next to heated bricks to see the snow covered country side on your way to a grand Christmas party. My imagination is probably a lot more pleasant than it actually was, but a girl can dream right? I personally think sleigh races would be a lot of fun, but I’m sure I would likely have offended someone back in that day because I tend to be a bit unconventional at times, and not always on purpose either…I probably would have tried to manage the sleigh myself or hiked my skirt up a little far and accidently shown my ankles or something ridiculously inappropriate like that. Who knows. But it sounds like a fun time long before the age of technology ruined outdoor creativity and such.<br />
<br />
Anyway, enough of my silly ramblings for the evening. I leave you with my new favorite version of this song, sung by the ever-so-nice-to-behold, Michael Buble! I love it because the energy of his version matches what I think the song was originally about. Plus the upright bass is totally rockin’!!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vf1_KykYpYs">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vf1_KykYpYs</a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-81743393922352877492011-12-08T21:48:00.001-06:002011-12-08T22:18:59.614-06:00Do You Ever Wonder?Do you ever stop to think what life must have been like for Mary? How it must have felt to have the angel Gabriel appear to you to tell you that YOU of all girls have been chosen to be the mother of the Son of God? Overwhelming doesn’t even begin to cover it. Only heaven knows all the things that must have went thru her mind as she heard this news. <br />
<br />
Here’s what I would have been thinking: “Huh, are you talking to me? Are you sure about this…I mean, I'm just an ordinary girl! I’m not special enough for this? What will Joseph say, he’ll never want me now!? What will my friends think, I’ll be disgraced! My parents are <strong><em><u>NEVER</u></em></strong> going to believe this ‘Yeah, right Mary an angel??? Couldn’t you come up with something better than that! We know how this works and what you’ve really been doing!’ ….just a few thoughts off the top of my head. Completely and utterly terrified is what I would have been (oh wait, maybe that WAS me - the day the doctor said “IT’S TWINS!” …but I digress here…). <br />
<br />
Did I mention that historians believe that Mary’s age at the time was THIRTEEN?!?!?!!? I am sure she was scared to death…truly praying for heaven to hold her together. But the story never says she threw a fit, screamed, cried or begged to be let off (like Moses did). Perhaps somehow in her mind she was given the peace of God to know that if He was going to entrust her with his Son, that he would also give her the strength to bear the burden of what the future was to bring. A lesson we can all learn from.<br />
<br />
On that night the Angel came she may not have fully grasped what the future held, that she would nurture, love and pour life into the Savior of all mankind, that she would watch him bring light into a world that didn’t even know it needed it. That she would suffer the indignation of those who scoffed at his claim to be the Son of God. <br />
<br />
I imagine that had there been such a song in her day this would have been her prayer. Not only on the night the Angel Gabriel brought this news to her, but all thruout the days as she watched her son grow and saw the power of God upon him, and knew that his life had far greater purpose than any other life on this planet would ever have. No matter if he was Jesus, he was still her son and as a mother I cannot imagine her grief as she saw him rejected and suffer great pain and die by the hands of those he came to save. I am sure her prayer that day was the same as the night she heard the news she was carrying the Son of God. “Hold me together.”<br />
<br />
Amy Grant and I go way back…like babies and bottles kind of way back. She’s been a favorite artist of mine literally since grade school. I can sing nearly every song she has ever recorded by heart. From the day this Christmas album came out I have always loved this song. I sang it every year at Christmas time in church growing up, and tonight it is the topic of this post. I am sure you have heard it, but here it is, my favorite song by one of my favorite artists. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6RVTZDgcpqM&feature=g-vrec">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6RVTZDgcpqM&feature=g-vrec</a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-19928753096420442842011-12-05T21:56:00.000-06:002011-12-05T21:56:41.473-06:00True Confessions...I do love Christmas, anyone can see that. However, this Christmas, I hate to admit this, I am dreading a little. Tonight I’m going to be vulnerably honest and say that sometimes I get weary of being “brave” (whatever that means), of waking up every morning and dealing with life as I know it now. I’m not always happy, I’m not always ready to pick myself up and stay positive. This Christmas will be different for me and the girls. Sure it will be happy and we will have fun. But in the corner of my heart there will be a sad place where there once was none. Loss, in whatever form it takes on, health, death, divorce, job, is never easy and never welcome. <br />
<br />
It seems the injustice of this life is never more apparent than at this time of the year; I suspect because there is so much emphasis on the “happy” of this season. True there is some “happy” to be found everywhere if you look. There are always things to be thankful for even in the midst of great pain, for if nothing else you know that somewhere there is someone who has suffered greater injustice in this world than you have. I don’t know about you, but some days I get angry over life. Some days I cry, others I wallow, feel cheated (that feels so unbecomingly selfish to confess), I fight bouts of all of it. Often I find the best remedy for those moods is thanking God for all the blessings, and there always seem to be a few more than I usually remember. <br />
<br />
The truth of the matter is that God never promised a life serving him would always be happy or easy or joyful, after all He himself faced the ultimate in persecution, heartbreak and rejection worse than anything we will ever endure. There is nothing more unjust than the world’s only perfect human having to give His life in the most brutal of all deaths to save us; the imperfect sinners. Thus far He has been gracious enough to give me the strength to survive what I hope to call the worst year ever. And even though there are days that I feel apprehensive about, I know they will come none-the-less, and I will face them just like I have every other day – with Him. I look forward to the redemption of all that has been lost for both me and my sweet girls. I know that if I stay faithful just as Job did, He will be faithful too and what has been lost will be restored seven times over. I suppose if not for the heartbreak and loss I would never really know what it means to be truly grateful for the blessings. He is STILL good! <br />
<br />
So, my song for tonight is “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus.” If you have suffered, if you have faced loss, if you have been broken hearted, like the song says, “let us find our rest in Thee…Joy on every longing heart…” He is with you. He has not forgotten you. He has not left you alone. He will heal your broken heart. He IS. Just a beautiful hymn. However, I will say the absolutel best version i've ever heard was recently done by Marcy Priest of LifeChurch. You can download it free from iTunes.<br />
<br />
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Mathhew 11:28. No matter what the new year brings, there is the comfort of knowing that no matter what you face in this life, if he is your Savior, your prize at the end of this life is eternity with Him and heaven. That is worth enduring whatever it is this earthly life can bring.<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xal35DgmSUs&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xal35DgmSUs&feature=related</a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-28510303672455318052011-12-01T21:38:00.000-06:002011-12-01T21:38:18.454-06:00I'm Dreaming...I love old movies. One in particular is White Christmas with Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye and Rosemary Clooney. I watch it every December. There's just something about it. I love that time in American history and that people seemed to have integrity at the heart of their actions. I know, I know, it's just a movie, but I think society was just different back then. Not such an attitude of entitlement that seems to reign supreme these days.<br />
<br />
The movie makes me want to learn to really dance (I don't think my two-stepping skills would cut it), fall in love and move to Vermont and have snow for Christmas always. HEHE! I think of Bing whenever I hear this song, no matter who sings it. I don't think anyone can really sing it like he can tho, so tonight enjoy my favorite song from my favorite Christmas movie!<br />
<br />
I'm always dreaming of a White Christmas!<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXcNfA4qebQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXcNfA4qebQ</a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-42705593971068391472011-11-28T23:12:00.001-06:002011-11-28T23:29:56.355-06:00'Tis The Season...For Christmas music! <br />
<br />
Since the tender age of 5 when I began taking piano lessons, which would last even into my college years, music has been a very integral part of my life. I love it, despite the fact I begged to give up taking lessons in high school (thanks mom, for telling me no, I am grateful!) Thoughts, feelings and emotions can be expressed thru music in a ways which the spoken or written word can only dream of. There’s just something about putting words to a melody that can touch you like nothing else. <br />
<br />
I love all things Christmas; especially the music. There’s a feeling this time of year that just isn’t same any other time of the year. Not because of the shopping or the presents, but the actual spirit of the season. The lights outside brighten up the dark nights, the Christmas trees inside give interest to the otherwise unchanging landscape of boring living room furniture (or kitchen or bedroom in my house as I have more than one or two trees). The music though, warms my soul and brightens my world. Whether it be the traditional sounds such as “Silent Night” or something fun and upbeat like “Run Run Rudolph” there’s just something about it. <br />
<br />
So, over the next few weeks until Christmas I hope you will indulge me by letting me share my most favorite Christmas songs and a little about why they are. I hope that you all will join in the spirit of the season and remember why it even exits at all. Without further ado, and in no particular order, I give you song #1!<br />
<br />
“O Holy Night” <br />
<br />
This song really says it all, the one an only reason for Christmas at all; the birth of our Savior. A night divine, indeed! The day when the hope of all mankind was born as flesh and blood and the chance of redemption for every person made possible. What an amazing night! I can’t even begin to imagine the Shepherds in the fields as they saw the Angel in the night proclaiming His birth. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen an angel and I can only fathom that if I had at that time I would either 1) fainted immediately or 2) required a new change of clothes. Either way I would have realized something incredibly amazing was happening.<br />
<br />
Here is my very favorite version of this song. Sung by Katharine McPhee, it is the purest and most beautiful arrangement I’ve ever heard. Something about just the piano and her quiet, clear vocals lend a grace to this song no others have matched, in my opinion. I also have a thing for using minor chords in an other wise Major key and the bridge of this song is amazing. I love to turn on this song, turn off all the lights, lay in the floor and let it just flood over me. Yes, I know I’m strange, but you should already know that by now! :) Just try it, I dare you, you’ll see what I mean! <br />
<br />
Enjoy! <br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BwvsWf25qIE&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BwvsWf25qIE&feature=related</a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13490840.post-29932321479030692442011-11-21T22:27:00.001-06:002011-11-21T22:28:07.756-06:00Don't tell me the odds...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>2011. What’s there to say about this year, other than thank God it’s almost over! One freak thing after another it’s been for me this year, but that’s OK. I have survived and even more, survived with some sanity left and hopefully still with at least a little bit of grace becoming of a lady.<br />
<br />
After a year like this one you have to believe that sometimes suffering and pain in life is “necessary” in a way to transform you into the person you were meant to be. Otherwise the concept that God is gracious and loving would be a lie and it is not. <br />
<br />
I am sure all of us can point out and give ample reason to give up on hope, faith, love, kindness etc… But circumstances do not define us, happiness is not dependent upon people or situations. Rather, it is a choice made from a hopeful heart. <br />
<br />
This time of year I have always been one who was anxious to see what the new year will bring and thankful for all that I was given in the past one. Perhaps many would say I didn’t have much to be thankful this time around. They couldn’t be more wrong. This year I am more thankful than ever for God’s grace, for strength for every new day, for the peace of knowing I AM strong enough to do this thing called “life.” Sometimes I may need a little help, reminders to get up and keep moving forward. That’s to be expected of all of us though, I think.<br />
<br />
I admit I am the ultimate dreamer and eternal optimist. Hope is the soul of the dreamer. It only takes one true believer to believe you can still beat the odds. My wish for anyone reading this you also know that you have so much to hope for. Hope is renewable, forgiveness is the road of redemption, love is the heart of the world…and faith will beat the odds, and I’m just bettin’ you that so will I! Next year will be as astoundingly wonderful as this one has been unbelievable! I wish the same for you.<br />
<br />
Just like the bee forever etched on my ankle. I don't care if science, physics, people or circumstances tell me I wasn't made to fly. I'm not listening. You can find me in the sky! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlNb3YXcHyefDTXqmcHU-7IMmpzif7yICZ8BF4wwkdF2EYu-_oQmsAy3s0kdLQovd1hEIrjTgNAVJygp3pkp9BQYHeL9WWq5SBsx8N5dF2cmagYJKYyBY290l30wYjXtfwbEo/s1600/045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlNb3YXcHyefDTXqmcHU-7IMmpzif7yICZ8BF4wwkdF2EYu-_oQmsAy3s0kdLQovd1hEIrjTgNAVJygp3pkp9BQYHeL9WWq5SBsx8N5dF2cmagYJKYyBY290l30wYjXtfwbEo/s320/045.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03606003957527977044noreply@blogger.com0