<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037</id><updated>2011-09-17T07:38:42.142-05:00</updated><category term='women'/><category term='h'/><category term='Bette Midler'/><category term='movies'/><category term='Bible'/><category term='writer'/><category term='funding'/><category term='infertility'/><category term='Little Women'/><category term='drifting'/><category term='pregnancy'/><category term='adoption'/><category term='hope'/><title type='text'>Moore Tirades</title><subtitle type='html'>There are a lot of things that I need to get off my chest and writing helps me do that.  What will I say next?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-6740564109370510483</id><published>2011-08-15T12:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T12:47:11.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ungrateful</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Yes, I tend to go on rants about the same things, but I'm so angry right now I can hardly see straight.&amp;nbsp; And it all comes down to ungratefulness and selfishness.&amp;nbsp; I had a "friend" from work that had a beautiful baby boy last week.&amp;nbsp; Her entire pregnancy was wonderful.&amp;nbsp; She was not sick one time, she did not have heartburn, she started swelling two weeks before the baby was born, and yet she complained every single day.&amp;nbsp; She was tired.&amp;nbsp; She was mad that she couldn't drink alcohol.&amp;nbsp; That's it.&amp;nbsp; And she complained incessantly about it.&amp;nbsp; She did not even seem excited when she told me she was pregnant.&amp;nbsp; She said she was, but nothing in her actions said "Yea! I'm so excited that I can give birth to this little person who will love me forever!&amp;nbsp; I've waited for this my entire life!"&amp;nbsp; Her man was excited (I say "man" because I don't know what to call him....ex-husband, live-in, ???)&amp;nbsp;, however she was not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;When we went to see her at the hospital, she did not talk once about the baby, she only griped because she had to have a c-section and it was a "horrible experience".&amp;nbsp; When offered the baby, she told us to "put him in his box".&amp;nbsp; Her husband bragged continuously about him, my husband even held him...a newborn.&amp;nbsp; We cooed over him and rocked him, while she watched tv.&amp;nbsp; The day they went home, she sent me a text that said "We are home, all is good, or as good as it can be".&amp;nbsp; Seriously?!?!&amp;nbsp; You should be on cloud 9 that your baby is healthy and gets to go home 2 days after he is born!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I would have given my left arm to have a c-section and have a beautiful, healthy baby.&amp;nbsp; I'm just so confused about how someone can not be happy at all about such a miraculous thing.&amp;nbsp; I know some people just don't want children, period.&amp;nbsp; But once you see that child, how can you not be thrilled?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-6740564109370510483?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/6740564109370510483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2011/08/ungrateful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6740564109370510483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6740564109370510483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2011/08/ungrateful.html' title='Ungrateful'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-6148173437631912614</id><published>2011-08-01T21:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T21:25:18.422-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moore update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I go through spells when I feel more creative and expressive, and I guess I've been doing that lately.&amp;nbsp; I've also had a TON of energy, for some reason.&amp;nbsp; I'm gonna say it's because I finally started taking vitamins regularly.&amp;nbsp; Anyway, I've been busy with crazy stuff and not writing so here's a quick update.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I've been working around the house lately.&amp;nbsp; I finally got our "junk room" cleaned out.&amp;nbsp; Now I'm just waiting on the hubby to finish the floor in there that he started about 2 years ago. :-)&amp;nbsp; I also got the other bedroom cleaned out.&amp;nbsp; After having two different boarders in there over the last couple of years, it had gotten pretty cluttered.&amp;nbsp; I also cleaned out the laundry room and two closets (besides the closets in the other two mentioned rooms).&amp;nbsp; And, for the record, I do not like to clean at all.&amp;nbsp; Hate it.&amp;nbsp; But I like feeling accomplished.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Keith's back has been bothering him a lot again, and I hate it.&amp;nbsp; I can't do anything for him except pump him full of muscle relaxers.&amp;nbsp; And since he can't get approved for insurance, that's all we can afford to do right now.&amp;nbsp; I, however, DO have insurance now!&amp;nbsp; It's so nice to have insurance after being without for three or four years.&amp;nbsp; And I have been using it to my advantage too.&amp;nbsp; More on that later, though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Keith &amp;amp; I have also been tremendously busy on the weekends.&amp;nbsp; We go to the Little Red River a lot in the summers since his parents have a house there, but Keith has also been preaching a little for a congregation nearby.&amp;nbsp; We like it a lot there, and I guess they like us too.&amp;nbsp; He preaches about once a month, and we visit there more often than that, as a good friend of ours has been preaching there also.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;This past weekend we had our annual Moore family weekend.&amp;nbsp; We had a blast, as usual!&amp;nbsp; I'm so blessed to not only have an amazing biological family, but to have such great in-laws too!&amp;nbsp; And, for the record, I also have amazing friends that I consider to be family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Well, that about sums it up for now.&amp;nbsp; Maybe next time I'll have something bigger and better to write about....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-6148173437631912614?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/6148173437631912614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2011/08/moore-update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6148173437631912614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6148173437631912614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2011/08/moore-update.html' title='Moore update'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-4024744050196244985</id><published>2011-04-16T09:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T09:28:20.567-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Dolly!</title><content type='html'>One of my favorite movies of all time is "Helly Dolly!" and I caught it on tv this morning.&amp;nbsp; I own it but I haven't seen it in a while.&amp;nbsp; So I sat down this morning and indulged in some Barbra Streisand and Walter Mattau.&amp;nbsp; I discovered this movie about 4 years ago when my friend was rehearsing to be in the play and I thought I would watch the movie before I saw her play.&amp;nbsp; And I fell in love with it.&amp;nbsp; I like Ms. Streisand anyway but something about this movie speaks to me.&amp;nbsp; I think Dolly's character is brilliantly played by Barbra.&amp;nbsp; If I had been an actress, I would have loved to have this part, but no one could do it justice as well as her.&lt;br /&gt;Walter Mattau is also pretty amazing in this.&amp;nbsp; Until I saw this movie, I had never seen him young!&amp;nbsp; I've seen him as an older man and he's hilarious.&amp;nbsp; In this, he still plays that gruff role that he's known for, but as a handsome young man instead.&amp;nbsp; He can sing very well!&lt;br /&gt;I also love this movie because there is a cameo of Louis Armstrong.&amp;nbsp; He is the cutest little man I've ever seen!&amp;nbsp; I wish I had known him.&amp;nbsp; He's a brilliant singer and trumpet player but he seems like the sweetest man you could ever meet.&amp;nbsp; You can't see him without grinning uncontrollably.&amp;nbsp; So this movie makes so indescribably happy with both of their presences.&lt;br /&gt;"Helly Dolly!"&amp;nbsp;also has one my favorite quotes: "I have lost so many things, my job, my future, everything people think is important, but I don't care.&amp;nbsp; Cause even if I have to dig ditches for the rest of my life, I shall be a ditch digger who once had a wonderful day."&amp;nbsp; This has become my life's motto.&amp;nbsp; I tend to focus on bad things a lot, so I try to think about this.&amp;nbsp; I may not be rich or famous or have a lot of things, but I do have a lot of wonderful days.&amp;nbsp; I think I want this on my gravestone one day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-4024744050196244985?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/4024744050196244985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2011/04/hello-dolly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4024744050196244985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4024744050196244985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2011/04/hello-dolly.html' title='Hello Dolly!'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-6117383723569341472</id><published>2011-02-13T14:07:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T14:28:08.531-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Photos</title><content type='html'>I've been looking through a lot of old photographs here recently.  It started with making my dad's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;slide show&lt;/span&gt; for his 60&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday.  I found some great pictures of my parents, as well as some pictures from my dad's Navy days.  Now I am working on making our house look like an actual home.  I figure it's time since we've lived here for five years and have been married for almost seven.  I kept saving wall space for our future kids' pictures, but we all know that hasn't been used so I am trying to fill the walls with other memories.&lt;br /&gt;Today I ran across some pictures of my grandparents and I had an e&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;piphany&lt;/span&gt;.  Anyone that knows me well knows that I have struggled with depression for several years.  I realized today that both times it got really bad, were right after I had lost a grandparent.  I lost my dad's parents early on.  (Paw-paw lost the fight against leukemia when I was seven and Maw-maw died of a brain &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;aneurysm&lt;/span&gt; when I was fourteen.)  So I think that because I was young and I didn't see them as much, it didn't affect me as much.  Don't get me wrong, I was upset when they passed, but it wasn't the same as when my mom's parents' passed.&lt;br /&gt;My mom's parents lived two miles from us and I saw them almost every day.  I got off the bus at their house many days and saw them at each and every church service during the week.  My Ya-ya passed December 9&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; when I was nineteen and it was probably one of the most traumatic things I've been through.  When you are that extremely close to someone and they leave in one way or another, it hurts.  No, it doesn't hurt, it tears out your heart and soul, and you look for something to fill the void, only nothing can.  That was when I went through my first major spell with depression, although I didn't realize it at the time.  I cried for days on end at first, and then I cried each and every month around the 9&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of the month for over a year.  I tried to fill the void with a relationship with someone who was utterly and completely wrong for me, which made it worse.  It was only after the relationship was over that I knew something was wrong and sought out medications to help.&lt;br /&gt;I stayed in the same slump for years until I met my husband and then everything changed.  I had someone that I loved and appreciated and that made me feel special again.  And everything was great for a while.  And then a couple of years later, my Pop died, and I spiraled downward again.  I did and said lots of things that I am not proud of at all.  And this lasted until I sought out help once again.  And finally things are better.  I won't say that I don't have bad days, because I do.  Today is one of those.  I saw those pictures of Ya-ya today and I cried like a baby once again.  But now I know that as much as I miss her and as much as I desperately want to be with her, I CAN be with her again.  I know she's waiting up in heaven for me as a I type this.  I only hope &amp;amp; pray that I can be as strong and faithful as she was so I can spend eternity with her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-6117383723569341472?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/6117383723569341472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2011/02/old-photos.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6117383723569341472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6117383723569341472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2011/02/old-photos.html' title='Old Photos'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-7372950302114464562</id><published>2011-02-05T10:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T10:51:13.530-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Helpless Hubby</title><content type='html'>My husband has been helpless this week.  On Sunday he started feeling bad and by Monday afternoon he was in severe pain.  He headed to the doctor's office where he got a few shots and some prescriptions.  By the time we got home, he was in the most pain I've ever known him to have.  We headed to the ER, where he was diagnosed with a kidney stone and drugged up with a ton of medicine.  Tuesday brought a visit to the urologist office to confirm the diagnosis.  In between was filled with lots of screaming and crying and begging for the pain to be gone and throwing up.  And now he STILL has not passed the stupid kidney stone.  I think all he has eaten this entire week was some fries, 2 chicken nuggets, 5 crackers, a couple cookies, and 2 chicken strips.  And he has not kept any of that down.  Urologist appointment again this Tuesday and we'll see what happens from there. :-(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-7372950302114464562?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/7372950302114464562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2011/02/helpless-hubby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7372950302114464562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7372950302114464562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2011/02/helpless-hubby.html' title='Helpless Hubby'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-7545938462169745087</id><published>2010-12-20T21:11:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T21:32:13.177-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='infertility'/><title type='text'>Back from being AWOL</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm back after my absence from Blogger for a while.  The last few weeks have been interesting.  So a few quick updates before I continue on with my thought of the day.  We made it through my dad's 60&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday bash.  We had a great time and I made it through singing in front of about 30 people without having a nervous breakdown.  The dentist I work with (we'll call him "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Shaner&lt;/span&gt;") played guitar &amp;amp; I sang and apparently, we did quite well together.  We had too much food, which was great because I thought we would run out.  Dad's cake was  awesome!  And I think everyone had an amazing time.  I'll post pics when I get them from Dad's camera.&lt;br /&gt;I finished my Christmas shopping today...I think.  As long as Keith finishes up the few items he is supposed to buy, that is.  We've already had one Christmas, so we have three more to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to other things...  I have been more depressed/upset/hurt/weepy/irritated than usual for a few weeks now about the whole baby thing.  And then last week my friend from work (we'll call her PIC), announces to me that she is pregnant...after trying for one month.  And it completely broke me.  I cried and bawled for several days.  In fact, I felt terrible for not being more excited for her, so I had to write her a card telling her that I was not upset that she was pregnant, I was upset because I was not.  I'm actually happy that she is having a little one!  She is going to be an amazing mama!  But anyway, that triggered a crazy response in me and I had to dry my eyes more than once yesterday at our family Christmas because I kept watching our cousin's baby.  So I've been feeling like I've been left out.  And that I can't do anything about it.&lt;br /&gt;And then today my phone rang.  It was a friend of mine that I used to work with, who I haven't talked to in several months.  (We'll call her May)  May tells me that she is having a baby.  Now this would usually get the same response that every other pregnancy does for me.  But this time, I was actually excited.  May has been trying for ten years and has suffered multiple miscarriages and has been through artificial insemination without any luck.  And now she is almost seven months pregnant after doing in-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;vitro&lt;/span&gt; fertilization.  I'm am so incredibly thrilled for her &amp;amp; husband!  She goes on to tell me how it all worked and what clinic they used and how their insurance had paid for 100% of their procedure costs.  And then she says, "I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad, I'm telling you this to give you hope.  Because if this can happen for us, it can happen for you too."&lt;br /&gt;Wow.  I'm still a little floored.  It can!  It can happen for Keith &amp;amp; me, just like it did for them!  It may mean some heartache now, but I believe that it will happen.  I've always known that we will have children, but you begin to doubt when it doesn't happen time and time again.  I actually feel like I do have some hope now.  When we stopped working together, I didn't know if May &amp;amp; I would keep in touch or not.  And we fell out of touch until today.  But now I know that we were meant to be close because I need that encouragement.  I need the hope!  But no one was ever able to give it to me until now.  And for that, I am eternally grateful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-7545938462169745087?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/7545938462169745087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/12/back-from-being-awol.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7545938462169745087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7545938462169745087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/12/back-from-being-awol.html' title='Back from being AWOL'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-6089286216276215596</id><published>2010-10-26T20:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-26T21:00:55.631-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just wondering.....</title><content type='html'>Have you ever noticed that the lips from Rocky Horror look like the lips from the Dairy Queen commercial?  Kinda creepy...&lt;div&gt;That's all.  :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-6089286216276215596?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/6089286216276215596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/10/just-wondering.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6089286216276215596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6089286216276215596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/10/just-wondering.html' title='Just wondering.....'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-8839897387008799186</id><published>2010-10-25T11:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T11:37:10.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update...</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in a few weeks because I've been tremendously busy.  I've been working on my dad's 60th birthday party.  We are having it at their local fire department, because we can use it for free and it's big enough to lay everything out.  I ordered invitations today from www.vistaprint.com.  I'm trying to decide on a cake design now.  I want it to look like his 1947 Ford truck, and that's presenting a problem.  I don't have a ton of money to spend on it so I'm trying to figure out my options for the design.  I'm going to a local bakery tomorrow to see what ideas they have.  Ed's Bakery has the most amazing cakes &amp;amp; cookies so I know they will come up with something awesome!&lt;div&gt;At the party, we are having people bring acoustic instruments so we can sit around and play and sing after we all eat.  It's something Dad has wanted to do for a while, so we thought we could incorporate that into his birthday celebration.  I think I am going to also buy a photo book (the kind you write in) and have everyone sign it as a guest book.  Then we can put photos of the party in it &amp;amp; give it to Dad.  For food, we are going to just do appetizers.  We will have veggie &amp;amp; fruit trays, deli trays, chips, dips, and maybe a few more things.  And, of course, the cake.  We are also working on a photo slideshow to play throughout the party.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We wanted to do a more elaborate party, complete with a diner-style ice cream bar, but money would not allow it this time around.  I'm sure it will still be a fun, memorable party.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that's what I've been up to!  More updates to come...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-8839897387008799186?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/8839897387008799186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/10/update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/8839897387008799186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/8839897387008799186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/10/update.html' title='Update...'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-4793355189469993066</id><published>2010-09-19T20:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T20:26:20.204-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation???</title><content type='html'>Well, the hubby &amp;amp; I just got back from Missouri a few hours ago.  One of his cousins is in chiropractic school there so it seemed like a good place to go on a weekend vacation with the little bit of money we had saved up.  Here are the pros &amp;amp; cons of the road trip.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pros&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. We got to see Josh &amp;amp; Shea&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. The St. Louis zoo is amazing!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. A little alone time with the hubby is good&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. I got to relax and read some magazines&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Our hotel room had a jacuzzi tub&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cons&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Six hours in the car is enough for anyone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Somehow I miraculously hurt my foot while walking around the zoo on Saturday.  (I always seem to hurt myself in the most random ways)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. The air conditioner in my car started blowing warm air about halfway to St. Louis, leaving us to drive way too many hours in a hot car&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Vacation laundry!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess that's about it for the vacation update.  All-in-all, we had a good trip.  It was just a little bit warmer than we had anticipated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-4793355189469993066?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/4793355189469993066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/09/vacation.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4793355189469993066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4793355189469993066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/09/vacation.html' title='Vacation???'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-4147287511667343230</id><published>2010-09-13T20:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T20:58:55.958-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Babies...</title><content type='html'>I'll start this post off by saying that I am not sad!  Today I made a visit to my friend who had her first baby last weekend.  He is a precious little thing and I know God has great things planned for him.  This is just another one of our friends to have a baby before us.&lt;div&gt;It used to make me really upset and I would cry for days when I found out that another person would be a mother before me.  And, don't get me wrong, sometimes I still get upset.  But now it's different.  I think a not-so-selfish side of me has come out.  I've never been one of those people that got mad if you got something before me, and I don't turn my back on my preggo friends.  But after trying for over 6 years, it's a little aggravating when person after person after person has a baby while we are just sitting here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can see now though that God has a different plan for us and that's okay.  We still want to be parents very badly but I'm okay with us being the "aunt &amp;amp; uncle" for now.  Keith &amp;amp; I both enjoy playing with our friends' kids and getting them little presents for no reason.  That is something we may or may not be able to do if we had children of our own right now.  And we do truly love our "nieces &amp;amp; nephews".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So if we haven't told you lately, we are so proud that all of you have become parents before us!  You are amazing parents and we can't wait to learn from you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-4147287511667343230?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/4147287511667343230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/09/babies.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4147287511667343230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4147287511667343230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/09/babies.html' title='Babies...'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-4875264388339784616</id><published>2010-09-11T20:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T20:22:56.197-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice weekend again</title><content type='html'>Last weekend we had a great weekend on the river with our best friends.  We spent it at my in-laws' little one bedroom cabin.  Its a great little getaway, just to cook out and visit.&lt;div&gt;This weekend the hubby &amp;amp; I spent it at my in-laws' bigger four bedroom cabin on the other side of the river with our young adults' class from church...and a few strays too.  Keith &amp;amp; a few other went fishing today and the rest of us just hung out.  Last night we had some good food, courtesy of the hubby and his should-have-been-brother.  We also had some great music from some of our strays.  They are some very talented brothers &amp;amp; I expect to hear them on the radio someday.&lt;div&gt;Also on the music note (ha ha...I'm so funny), the hubby's cousin &amp;amp; I got to sing together a little.  It's something we try to do but don't have much time for.  He's an amazing singer &amp;amp; I love singing with him.  He's always been like a brother to me, so it's a lot of fun.  And we actually don't sound terrible together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This time of year is a great time up at the river, so we spend a lot of time up there.  We're skipping next weekend though so we can go up to St. Louis and visit another cousin &amp;amp; his wife.  Yay for another great weekend!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-4875264388339784616?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/4875264388339784616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/09/nice-weekend-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4875264388339784616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4875264388339784616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/09/nice-weekend-again.html' title='Nice weekend again'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-4634688657777960895</id><published>2010-09-09T20:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T20:46:44.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I remember...again</title><content type='html'>I did one of these blogs a few months ago and ever since I've been thinking of things I left out that are important.  Some are sad and some are happy, but all are very vivid in my mind.  Enjoy...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Singing badly to old songs all night with my boyfriend (now husband) when we first started dating and knowing that I had just released all of the inhibitions I had&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Seeing my Ya-ya in the hospital, knowing that it was the last time I would see her alive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Playing Sardines in the mall in New Hampshire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Watching my Pearl dog "chasing" planes out of our back yard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Taking 2 hour lunches with Jalynn to go eat in LR and go shopping&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Slapping a girl when I was in the 6th grade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Playing with Barbies and GI Joe at my Maw-maw's house with my cousin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. My Pop teaching me how to drive when I had no interest in it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. Pop &amp;amp; Ya-ya's chicken houses&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. Riding the 3-wheeler with my friend Justin when we were kids&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11. Laying on the beach on Grand Turk island&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12. Cutting Allyson's hair and my instructor "fixing it" by completely chopping it off&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13. My aunt trying to make me learn tree and flower names&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14. My dad getting my birthday confused one year and giving me my present a whole month early&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15. Moore family vacations...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all for today.  I'm pooped after a long day.  More to come...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-4634688657777960895?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/4634688657777960895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/09/things-i-rememberagain.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4634688657777960895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4634688657777960895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/09/things-i-rememberagain.html' title='Things I remember...again'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-2477778246355289193</id><published>2010-09-02T22:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T22:19:11.475-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adoption'/><title type='text'>Revelation of the Day</title><content type='html'>I was researching some stuff today for the adoption process that we have been looking into and slowing creeping toward and found something interesting.  I found a website for adoption funding (&lt;a href="http://www.cafaadopt.org/"&gt;www.cafaadopt.org&lt;/a&gt;) that had some great stuff on it.  I found an article called "Should Christians Fund Adoptions?"  Now I didn't read it because I wanted someone to fund my adoption (would be nice...) but it caught my attention.  Here's a little of what I found there.&lt;br /&gt;God speaks of taking care of orphans and widows throughout the Old Testament.&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 10:14 - God is the helper of the orphans&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 10:18 - God will vindicate the orphan and oppressed&lt;br /&gt;Deuteronomy 27:19 - "Cursed is the man who withholds justice from the fatherless"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the author, B. Alan Keener, goes on to bring up a New Testament verse, just to show that the command continues throughout the new law.  James 1:27 says, "Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of God our Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world."  I have heard this verse used countless times to show that we should take care of our widows.  I have heard it used a couple of times by the sponsors from the Children's Home. But I have never really looked at that verse as it being a direct command to care for orphans, as well as widows.  My husband and his friend have talked about this verse a lot in the last few months and I still never thought about it like that.  I think maybe God was trying to get me to see that all along.&lt;br /&gt;I have always wanted to adopt, because my mother is adopted, and I love the idea of helping someone by showing them a loving, God-fearing home, when they may never get that otherwise.  But now I feel more compelled than ever to do so.  I feel that we should get our butts in gear and get this going.  We have questions about finances because it is incredibly expensive.  But I know that the money will find its way somehow, as long as we focus on what's important.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-2477778246355289193?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/2477778246355289193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/09/revelation-of-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/2477778246355289193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/2477778246355289193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/09/revelation-of-day.html' title='Revelation of the Day'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-7767214224845387124</id><published>2010-08-31T19:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T19:39:40.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflection</title><content type='html'>Today has been a crazy day full of bad news.  A lot of people I love are hurting very badly today.  In twelve hours, I heard about 5 deaths in this immediate area.  Five.  There was a very bad helicopter crash last night of the Air Evac team in this area.  My friend's grandpa passed away yesterday.  And my friend's son committed suicide.  So many people are hurting and sad and it hurts me that I have no idea what to do.&lt;div&gt;I've been surrounded by death since I was young.  I grew up with older grandparents in a community full of older people.  The first death I remember was when I was four.  I think I started going to funerals before that.  I have no clue how many funerals and visitations I've been to in my thirty years.  I know that when someone dies, the best thing you can do for them is be there.  You can take food and paper goods to make the time easier on them.  You can take them flowers to make their house appear cheery.  But you can do nothing to take the pain away.  I've done these things for a long time.  But what do you do when someone commits suicide?  I'm not sure that there is anything you can do to make that time easier.  I'm completely at a loss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I'm taking this time to do some reflecting on my own life.  That may sound selfish but I'm trying to be better.  I know now that I've been through all the funerals and death so that I can help other people.  Maybe that's what God's purpose has been for me all along.  I don't believe God only has one purpose for us, but maybe that's a big part of mine.  I always feel obligated to do something when someone dies, whether I knew them well or not.  Maybe that's the Holy Spirit guiding me into my purpose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now I have to figure out my purpose in this time.  I'm praying that God will guide me toward what I'm supposed to do right now and that He will be a comfort and strength to so many people that are in pain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-7767214224845387124?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/7767214224845387124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/reflection.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7767214224845387124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7767214224845387124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/reflection.html' title='Reflection'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-7104754561610451029</id><published>2010-08-30T10:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T13:01:15.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I love Lucy!</title><content type='html'>I was watching "I Love Lucy" this morning &amp;amp; decided to look up Lucille Ball (for the millionth time) on www.imdb.com, my favorite website.  Which also led to several of my other favorite redheads.  Here's some of my favorite redhead quotes.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lucille Ball&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I'm not funny. What am I is brave."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Once in his life, every man is entitled to fall madly in love with a gorgeous redhead."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"A man who correctly guesses a woman's age may be smart, but he's not very bright."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bette Midler&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I try not to drink too much, because when I'm drunk, I bite."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"If somebody makes me laugh, I'm his slave for life."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Carol Burnett&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Only I can change my life.  No one can do it for me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sophia Loren&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"A woman's dress should be like a barbed wire fence: serving its purpose without obstructing the view."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Julia Roberts&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I'm too tall to be a girl, I never had enough dresses to be a lady, I wouldn't call myself a woman.  I'd say I'm somewhere between a chick and a broad."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-7104754561610451029?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/7104754561610451029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-love-lucy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7104754561610451029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7104754561610451029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-love-lucy.html' title='I love Lucy!'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-147171496267265788</id><published>2010-08-28T16:38:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T16:56:04.383-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='h'/><title type='text'>Out last night...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/THmDyNPwkzI/AAAAAAAAACs/oTmYDnX_Yuw/s320/Office+Stuff+208.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;But it wasn't last night.  It was last weekend but I haven't written about it or shown pictures yet.  Some friends &amp;amp; my hubby &amp;amp; I went out to a piano bar last weekend and had a blast.  It's my new favorite place to go.  It's nice just to relax and sing really badly to crazy songs.  Going out isn't a typical thing for the hubby &amp;amp; me so it was nice just to get out. These are a few pictures from the night.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/THmC2L8QQ2I/AAAAAAAAACc/_LQY7_22XFo/s320/Office+Stuff+222.JPG" /&gt;          &lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/THmESf55dXI/AAAAAAAAAC0/nFGW1tRXxH4/s320/Office+Stuff+193.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/THmFXY8BvNI/AAAAAAAAAC8/V7B9ObVSRm8/s320/Office+Stuff+218.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-147171496267265788?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/147171496267265788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/out-last-night.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/147171496267265788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/147171496267265788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/out-last-night.html' title='Out last night...'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/THmDyNPwkzI/AAAAAAAAACs/oTmYDnX_Yuw/s72-c/Office+Stuff+208.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-7019555040047881686</id><published>2010-08-21T21:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T22:45:15.464-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrics = Life</title><content type='html'>I'm a music freak.  I love almost every genre of music.  It is an art form that many take for granted.  I love listening to music but I also love the poetry of it.  Here's a few I've been thinking about this week.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sugarland has a song on their Love on the Inside album called Take Me As I Am.  Here's my favorite part:  "I know these corners, I know these streets.  Curbside prophets, they're yelling at me.  He can save my soul for a drink and a dollar.  Yea, they're yelling about my tattoos but we all live with the scars we chose.  They might hurt like hell but they all make us stronger."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Miranda Lambert's new single, Only Prettier, starts out like this:  "Well I've been saved by the grace of southern charm.  I got a mouth like a sailor and yours is more like a hallmark card.  If you wanna pick a fight, I'm gonna have to say good night.  I don't have to be hateful, I can just say bless your heart."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From one of my all-time favorites, James Taylor, Fire and Rain:  "I've seen fire and I've seen rain.  I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.  I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend.  But I always thought that I'd see you again."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gotta love Your Song, Elton John:  "And you can tell everybody that this is your song.  It might be quite simple but now that it's done.  I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words how wonderful life is when you're in the world."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And let's close out this blog with my favorite diva, Bette Midler.  You gotta have Friends!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh you got to have friends, the feeling's oh so strong.  You got to have friends to make that day last long.  Had some friends but they're gone, something came and took them away.  And from the dusk to the dawn, here's where I will stay.  Standin' at the end of the road, boys, waiting on my new friends to come, I don't care if I'm hungry or cold, I gotta get me some of the them."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-7019555040047881686?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/7019555040047881686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/lyrics-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7019555040047881686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7019555040047881686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/lyrics-life.html' title='Lyrics = Life'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-2611243746783582221</id><published>2010-08-21T21:05:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T21:21:45.414-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Limo rides and cruises</title><content type='html'>I drive 45 minutes to work.  Not through a city with tons of gruelling traffic but from the country through a city, past several rural "towns", to a small town to work in my office.  Everyone thinks I'm crazy for driving so far when I could get a job 15 minutes from my house.  This is why I drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/THCGkwbpx8I/AAAAAAAAACM/evmS4GkjSE8/s1600/Office+Stuff+186.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508050310308415426" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/THCGkwbpx8I/AAAAAAAAACM/evmS4GkjSE8/s320/Office+Stuff+186.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is my office family, minus one. (She's on maternity leave, one of my oldest friends, and consequently the reason I work with these people)  And, yes, you aren't seeing things...we are standing in front of a limo.  My boss is a super nice guy who feels the need to do nice things for us.  I think he may be insane, but it works out well for us so we don't complain.  At the beginning of this week, my boss, Dr. E, decided to close the office Thursday afternoon and take us to the movies and to dinner.  So we cancelled our patients and were surprised by a limo picking us up.  He footed the bill for the entire excursion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the last two years (the year before I started and this past year) at Christmas, he gave his entire staff a cruise.  This is one of the reasons I wanted a job here so bad before I started.  Fortunately, I got it and got to join them on the cruise this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some people it would be torture to be sentenced to spend time with their coworkers outside of work, but not me.  I love the people I work with.  We get on each other's nerves occasionally but we can all look past those times.  We have great professional relationships and great personal relationships.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still can't believe that I'm able to work with such great people and that I am get rewards for working hard.  I've never worked anywhere that the boss did anything more than buying us lunch on our birthday, if we were lucky enough to get that.  Don't get me wrong, I've worked for some very nice, benevolent people but they weren't that gracious with their employees.  But now I have that and it's amazing!  Just another one of God's blessings on me....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-2611243746783582221?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/2611243746783582221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/limo-rides-and-cruises.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/2611243746783582221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/2611243746783582221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/limo-rides-and-cruises.html' title='Limo rides and cruises'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/THCGkwbpx8I/AAAAAAAAACM/evmS4GkjSE8/s72-c/Office+Stuff+186.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-2822644934247476442</id><published>2010-08-16T09:15:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T10:05:29.618-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The fruits of my labor</title><content type='html'>I think I'm going crazy. Well, my husband thinks so anyway. Here's some pictures of what I have done in the last week and a half. I wish I had taken "before" pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend was when we scrubbed the house and then I cleaned out the laundry room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/TGlRj2zgmwI/AAAAAAAAABk/EpaeRlSdMv0/s1600/038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506021695885974274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/TGlRj2zgmwI/AAAAAAAAABk/EpaeRlSdMv0/s320/038.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, the pantry closet was calling. So I pulled out all our crap and cleaned the shelves and threw away junk and rearranged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/TGlR6muHcNI/AAAAAAAAABs/nWoAqOvmRpY/s1600/037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506022086705377490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/TGlR6muHcNI/AAAAAAAAABs/nWoAqOvmRpY/s320/037.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today I've been working on our closet. I've gone through all of my clothes and pulled out everything I can't wear so I can consign it. Not gonna mess with my hubby's stuff though...he may kill me. These are the hangers of everything I can't wear anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/TGlSLA-ZqFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/f3ILpCB-S9o/s1600/040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506022368630909010" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/TGlSLA-ZqFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/f3ILpCB-S9o/s320/040.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's what I've been up to. Back to work tomorrow....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-2822644934247476442?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/2822644934247476442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/fruits-of-my-labor.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/2822644934247476442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/2822644934247476442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/fruits-of-my-labor.html' title='The fruits of my labor'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/TGlRj2zgmwI/AAAAAAAAABk/EpaeRlSdMv0/s72-c/038.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-3093301136848495617</id><published>2010-08-09T15:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T15:55:31.788-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning....</title><content type='html'>I hate to clean.  With an intense passion.  I HATE CLEANING.  However, I feel very accomplished today.  Last night we had a big cookout/planning meeting for our Young Adults' Class from church so we had to get the house in order.  So Saturday, my hubby, our housemate, and I started cleaning.  We started with the kitchen, bathrooms, and living room.  Sunday we continued in the kitchen and did all the floors.  We also prepared all the food for the cookout.  This morning I got up and cleaned...no wait, I scrubbed our laundry room.  I got rid of a bunch of crap we had sitting around in there, threw away some old clothes, and cleaned the floor.  It looks like a whole new room.  You can walk in there and jump in a circle and not step on anything nasty.  You can actually stand to fold the clothes in the laundry room.  So I continued my cleaning spree with catching up ALL of the laundry.  I also did the dishes from last night and picked up our bedroom.  Whew!  I'm exhausted.  I need another day off before I go back to work tomorrow.  But I'm so glad I had today off work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-3093301136848495617?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/3093301136848495617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/cleaning.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/3093301136848495617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/3093301136848495617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/08/cleaning.html' title='Cleaning....'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-7375673178204828122</id><published>2010-07-09T21:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T21:52:27.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mandy &amp; Julie &amp; Julia</title><content type='html'>I've heard some mixed reviews about the movie Julie &amp;amp; Julia but I had to see it for myself.  And I am so glad that I did.  I have to begin by saying that I have a great respect for Meryl &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Streep&lt;/span&gt;, as any God-fearing, movie-loving American should.  She's amazing in every thing she does.  And I honestly did not know much about Julia Child until I watched this movie.  As I did, I knew that I was one of the many people that this movie was specifically made for.  I had no idea that I had anything in common with that lady and that I would grow to love her so much within 2 hours.&lt;br /&gt;It was perfect timing for me to see that movie.  Anyone that knows me know that I am a major foodie.  I look forward to each meal and only cease to eat when I am entirely stuffed and cannot move.  The only thing I think about when I'm planning to meet friends is what we will eat.  And not just the dessert, like most women, but mainly the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;carbs&lt;/span&gt;.  The bread, the pasta, the potatoes.  I'm getting hungry just thinking about it.  Anyway, I love food so watching a whole movie about food is heaven.  This movie is also based around a woman (a writer) turning 30 and choosing to do something instead of sitting by &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;idly&lt;/span&gt;.  Hello?!?!  Just passed the big 3-0 birthday and survived.&lt;br /&gt;The biggest part of this movie that really got me was Julia's relationship with her husband and the non-existence of children in their lives.  They had such an amazing, rich relationship that seemed to grow through the years.  And watching her crying over her sister's news of being pregnant was like looking through a mirror.  That has happened to me so many times I can't even count them.  Of course, I have no sister, but I have so many close friends that I've watched get pregnant and have babies and then get pregnant again and have babies again while I sit aside and pray for the day that I can experience the same.&lt;br /&gt;But for now I will enjoy my life with my wonderfully, sweet, handsome husband and not feel sorry for myself...like Julia would do.  And we will continue adopting because Keith &amp;amp; I can give a wonderful home to a child or two or three or four.  And I will continue to cook and eat as much as possible because it's fun.  And I think I will read "My Life in France" for some Julia Child inspiration and for some writing inspiration.  Because my plan for not sitting &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;idly&lt;/span&gt; by is to continue in the amazing life I have, with a few minor additions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-7375673178204828122?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/7375673178204828122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/07/mandy-julie-julia.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7375673178204828122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/7375673178204828122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/07/mandy-julie-julia.html' title='Mandy &amp; Julie &amp; Julia'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-437911232935492171</id><published>2010-07-06T21:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T22:35:05.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two blogs, One night</title><content type='html'>I've got a lot on my mind tonight and no one to tell it to.  So my blog gets the blessing/curse of my overactive brain.  Over the last few days I've seen a lot of people that I haven't seen in years.  So I guess I'm feeling a bit nostalgic.  So here's just a few things I remember over my lifetime (in no particular order).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Keith proposing to me at Camp Caudle, where we both spent some wonderful years before and after we met&lt;br /&gt;2. Singing with my friend, Jalynn&lt;br /&gt;3. Practically living with Allyson when I was in beauty school&lt;br /&gt;4. Hanging out at Johnny &amp;amp; Barbara Fowlkes' house&lt;br /&gt;5. Sitting with Amber during church at Colony and laughing so hard that I snorted...during service&lt;br /&gt;6. Meeting Jalynn for the first time and how she thought I was completely nuts for talking to a complete stranger&lt;br /&gt;7. Riding the three-wheeler after church with Justin &amp;amp; Brittany&lt;br /&gt;8. Living in the dorms at Beebe&lt;br /&gt;9. Having my two best friends introduced to me at camp when I was fifteen...and hanging on to them for the last fourteen years through thick and thin&lt;br /&gt;10. Eating breakfast at my grandma's...always chocolate gravy and biscuits&lt;br /&gt;11. My Ya-ya singing to me and me running away&lt;br /&gt;12. Wishing that I could hear her sing one more time (One day I will...)&lt;br /&gt;13. Making a CD in Nashville (who cares that it was made at a booth in the mall)&lt;br /&gt;14. Talking to Papa Carl &amp;amp; Arvie for hours after Thursday night Nucleo&lt;br /&gt;15. Having Sandra to tell all of my teenage heartbreak too&lt;br /&gt;16. Working at my first dental office&lt;br /&gt;17. Going to see the Dixie Chicks with Allyson for my 20th birthday&lt;br /&gt;18. My grandpa not letting us use his red hand towel because he thought we would get sick&lt;br /&gt;19. My Ya-ya telling me that my mom was adopted (I didn't believe her)&lt;br /&gt;20. Finally making the decision to adopt a baby&lt;br /&gt;21. Running through Maria's field at the farm trying to find the end of a rainbow&lt;br /&gt;22. Hiding in Maria's dorm during nightly room check&lt;br /&gt;23. Spending New Year's Eve with Maria our senior year &amp;amp; convincing her that we were drinking alcohol (We weren't...it was club soda)&lt;br /&gt;24. My Pop bringing home Hershey's Kisses every time he went to the store, because he knew they were my favorite&lt;br /&gt;25. Getting Clorets gum from my Great Aunt Darlene during church&lt;br /&gt;26. Breaking my arm on that dumb 'ol horse of Toot's&lt;br /&gt;27. Singing as loud as I could in front my mirror...when I was 7 and now that I'm 30 too&lt;br /&gt;28. Scott bringing Sarah food 3 times a week when she lived with us&lt;br /&gt;29. Meeting Keith for the first time and thinking he was "at least 30"&lt;br /&gt;30. My mom being determined that she would not walk with her cane at my high school graduation...and pulling it off with flying colors&lt;br /&gt;31. Sleeping on my parents' water bed right in between them&lt;br /&gt;32. My wedding day, the best and most relaxing day I've ever had&lt;br /&gt;33. Ditching my senior prom date and hanging out at Maria's grandma's house instead&lt;br /&gt;34. Meeting Keith's mom for the first time and knowing that she was the perfect mother-in-law for me&lt;br /&gt;35. That first plane ride to Costa Rica and falling asleep on Papa Carl's shoulder&lt;br /&gt;36. That stupid zip line in Costa Rica and crying my eyes out the whole time.  Never again.&lt;br /&gt;37. Realizing that I am exactly like my father and not all of that is a bad thing&lt;br /&gt;38. Having Friday night dinner with my grandparents and their friends&lt;br /&gt;39. Being baptized and Danny telling me afterwards that everyone on the church van was now a Christian&lt;br /&gt;40. Having "coffee" with my grandpa and the other old men in Greers Ferry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few things I thought of today.  One for each year I've been on earth and an extra ten for good measure.  Not all of them are good, but all of them are replayed in my head.  Some of them hurt to think about and some make me laugh.  But all of them are dear to me.  I've made so many good friends, some of which I don't even see anymore for one reason or another.  Some are still as dear to my heart now as they were in the beginning.  And others have been called home, leaving us here to long for the day we will see them again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-437911232935492171?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/437911232935492171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/07/two-blogs-one-night.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/437911232935492171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/437911232935492171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/07/two-blogs-one-night.html' title='Two blogs, One night'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-4511372989127928411</id><published>2010-07-06T21:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T21:47:22.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My hubby in CR</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I get caught up in what my husband does wrong and forget everything that he does that's wonderful.  Yea, sounds a little cheesy but that's how I feel today.  Keith has been gone since Friday on a mission trip to Costa Rica.  I started going there when I was 20 and Keith started about 5 years ago.  Last year was the first time I have been without him, since we met.  I managed fine but would have rather had him there.  This year is the first time he's been without me.  He called tonight and said, "I never want to come here without you again".  He's having a rough time this year.  He is teaching an English class this year and said that it is really difficult.  Luckily, he is getting some help from a precious girl.  I just hate that I can't be there with them.  I didn't think it would be so hard being here while they were gone, but I was terribly wrong.  I hate being without my husband for more than a couple of nights.  And I also hate that he is having a tough time and I'm not there for him.  He sounded so discouraged over the phone.  And we all know that Keith does not get discouraged very easily.  Even when he does, he recovers quickly because he is the master of all.  He is so gifted with people skills and understanding that he excels in everything.  I'm just sad that he's having difficulties.  But I know that by the end of the week, he will have great stories of what he's accomplished.  And that makes me a very proud wife.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-4511372989127928411?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/4511372989127928411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-hubby-in-cr.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4511372989127928411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4511372989127928411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-hubby-in-cr.html' title='My hubby in CR'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-4523830579776794864</id><published>2010-07-04T23:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T23:12:59.571-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bachelorette for a Week</title><content type='html'>Well, my hubby is gone for a week.  He left on Friday for Costa Rica, without me.  Due to some things I can't control, it wasn't looking possible for me to go this year.  So I'm stuck at home while my other half is working in CR for the week.  This year he is teaching English classes and a men's seminar.  And he is taking care of the four women he went with, one of which is his mother.  I'm proud of him for stepping up and taking the group, but I'm sad that I'm not with them.  I'm also sad that he's gone for a week.  Luckily, my friend is staying here so I'm not too lonely without him.  I'm just ready for him to come home.  Six more days...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-4523830579776794864?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/4523830579776794864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/07/bachelorette-for-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4523830579776794864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/4523830579776794864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/07/bachelorette-for-week.html' title='Bachelorette for a Week'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-50141574379015422</id><published>2010-07-02T15:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T15:24:53.788-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thirty...the start of my 4th decade</title><content type='html'>Well, my dreaded 30th birthday came and went without a mental breakdown, so I think I'm doing pretty good.  I had been mourning this day since my 29&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday and tried to think of something awesome to do on that day so I would have something to look forward to.  However, I'm poor and couldn't think of anything that didn't cost at least a thousand dollars.  So I just went to work instead and was pleasantly surprised.  I had a present waiting on me (something I had been looking for) and lots of messages from my co-workers.  I also got cake, the best part about a birthday.  My boss took us out to lunch.  So all-in-all, a pretty good day filled with silliness and jokes.  Then on my way home, I glance over at my friend's house and she had put out a huge birthday sign for me.  I got to spend the evening at Bible study and dinner with more friends, one of whom shares a birthday with me (he's three years younger though).  So I was pleasantly surprised that I didn't have an utterly horrible day.  And SURPRISE...the world didn't come to an end because I turned 30!&lt;br /&gt;I've been stuck on this kick for a while that I hadn't done what I planned on doing before turning 30.  Then suddenly I realized that I was looking at it wrong.  Maybe I hadn't carried out my original plans but I have done so much more.  I married a wonderful, sweet person whose family I love.  I maintained friendships with my oldest friends and developed new ones.  I actually figured out what I want to do with my life...which is a massive deal for me.  Maybe the things that I had planned 10 years ago aren't so relevant anymore.  And maybe some of them will be best achieved in this decade, as an older and more responsible person.  Either way, I'm okay with turning 30.&lt;br /&gt;Forty, however, my be another story...but I've got ten years to work on that issue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-50141574379015422?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/50141574379015422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/07/thirtythe-start-of-my-4th-decade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/50141574379015422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/50141574379015422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/07/thirtythe-start-of-my-4th-decade.html' title='Thirty...the start of my 4th decade'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-8835613953277416855</id><published>2010-06-05T09:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T10:15:28.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stinky Times</title><content type='html'>My best red-head started her first blog ever and I realized that I haven't even worked on mine in over a year.  Wow.  How crazy is it that the person who daydreams all day long can't put pen to paper (or words on a screen)?  So here's my life update.&lt;br /&gt;My work life has changed tremendously.  I now work at an amazing office with people I love.  It helps that one of my best friends works with me but I also have a whole office of wonderful people.  People that will pee themselves laughing when you do something stupid but those same people will cry with you when something tragic happens.  It's wonderful being in such a great place.&lt;br /&gt;My home life has changed a little too.  My sweet, handsome hubby and I are better than ever.  And that leads to the next pending change.  We have decided to finally start the adoption process!  We are excited and thrilled beyond belief.  It will be a work-in-process for quite some time but we know it will be worth it.  We absolutely cannot wait to have our first sweet baby in the house.  We've waited for this for such a long time.  Everyone says we'll get pregnant as soon as we get that baby, and that's okay with us.&lt;br /&gt;My gorgeous niece is now seven years old.  I cannot believe she is that old...and big.  She is going to be as big as me in another year or two.  All of our friends' kids are getting bigger and funnier too.  I love watching them grow up.&lt;br /&gt;As for my projects, I'm still working on my children's books about my baby Stinky dog.  He's the coolest dog and I love writing about him.  Everyone loves him and I can't wait to have Stinky books for my friends' children.  My best red-head is going to work on some illustrations for it too.  My office is also working on my preliminary stuff to start a dental assisting school, of which I would be an instructor.  We're trying to do research right now but maybe by this time next year, it will be up and running.&lt;br /&gt;Due to some scheduling conflicts, I'm not going to Costa Rica this year.  Keith is going though.  He &amp;amp; his mom are heading up a group of six from Arkansas to do a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;VBS&lt;/span&gt; and English classes.  I know they will do great things.  We are both planning on going next year, based on how our pending adoption goes.&lt;br /&gt;That's all that's going on right now.  I'll try to update this a little more often in the coming months.  I'm sure as soon as we get our little Moore, I'll be updating like crazy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-8835613953277416855?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/8835613953277416855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/06/stinky-times.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/8835613953277416855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/8835613953277416855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2010/06/stinky-times.html' title='Stinky Times'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-2913153631276840753</id><published>2009-07-02T21:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T21:30:54.401-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Costa Rica</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I love Costa Rica!  It's true.  I'm in love with a country.  It's okay.  My husband knows and has come to terms with it.  It's been four years since I headed south to my favorite place.  So I set out on a whole new journey this time and went with people I had never met before.  Scary, yes....Bad, no.  Actually, it was the best trip I've ever had there.  Usually my trip consists of door knocking, vacation Bible school, gospel meeting, and lots of visiting.  This time we didn't do any of that.  (My family and friends are on their way down there right now to do all of that stuff.)  I finally set out on my first, and much-desired, dental brigade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I started dental assisting almost ten years ago and quit twice.  But I missed it entirely too much and had to go back.  I've been back in the field for almost 3 years now, and I really can't figure out why I quit in the first place.  Oh yea, to pursue bigger and better things and finally get that college degreee.  Oh well.  It's overrated.  Anyway, I have always wanted to do a dental brigade and the opportunity finally presented itself.  Steven, who is my friend and "Costa Rican brother", let me in on a trip being planned by a group from Tennessee.  So I got connected with them via email and it was set.  The trip was to take place from June twelveth through the nineteenth.  Skipping a few details....here I am at the airport with people I've never met, heading to a foreign country.  Luckily, it is a country that I have been to three other times so I wasn't worried.  Much.  Right away, I knew I was going to be okay.  I connected with them right away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We worked for four days doing dental work.  The first day we worked at an orphanage.  That was a mistake because I really wanted to bring those children home.  Really, I just wanted to bring one child home.  She was 2 1/2 and had the most beautiful dark curly hair.  So after I fell in love with this little girl, we still had three more days of clinic left, which we did at a community center where the church meets.  We saw over two hundred people total and did a ton of work.  The doctors that I was with actually let me try my hand at doing some dental work, which was amazing.  There are a lot of things that I cannot do in the States because I will lose my license, as well as whoever I am working for.  So Costa Rica is definately the perfect place to do everything I have always wanted to.   And I was so blessed to go with people who walked me through those things!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So here I am two weeks after returning, wanting to go back and do it again!  I guess I'll just have to wait until next year.  There are rumors that we are going to Peru next year.  I'm game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-2913153631276840753?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/2913153631276840753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/07/costa-rica.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/2913153631276840753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/2913153631276840753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/07/costa-rica.html' title='Costa Rica'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-1815939501368458038</id><published>2009-02-05T18:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T19:06:56.923-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm missing it.  I'm missing the first step, the first tooth, the first word.  I'm missing the ten thousandth dirty diaper.  I'm missing the cries in the middle of the night.  I'm missing the first bruised knee.  I'm missing the snotty nose and tear-filled eyes.  I'm missing the first spoonful of green beans being spat upon the floor.  I'm missing bottles and pacifiers and bibs.  I'm missing the perfect crib placed in the corner by the window.  I'm missing the proud grandparents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm missing the love...the connection.  I'm missing it because I've only experienced these things in my dreams at night.  I cannot explain the pride a new mother has.  I'm still waiting.  And until then I will continue to watch others who have them and try to live through them.  And I pray that one day I will be missing those things in another way than I am missing them now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-1815939501368458038?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/1815939501368458038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/02/missing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/1815939501368458038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/1815939501368458038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/02/missing.html' title='Missing'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-6741508097156110640</id><published>2009-01-18T19:56:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T20:03:36.796-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>Did you ever just drive and drive and never seem to find where you're going?  You always pass the same rock or building two or three times before you realize it, too.  That's how I feel right now.  I feel like I've been driving around the same block for weeks and I keep passing the same 'ol stuff.  And I'm just now noticing it.  I keep trying to get to that one place but I just can't seem to find my way.  In my mind, I know the way...if I just take a left here and a right there, I'll be there.  But every time I take the turn, there's a detour that throws me off track.  And I end up right where I started, trying to follow my directions.  Why are there so many detours?  Why can't I just get in car and drive until I get there?  It seems impossible.  I've been pretty optimistic about it until the last couple of days when the detours are innumerable.  I think every rock and tree and roof have fallen in my way and now all my tires are flat!  I'm confused and discouraged and even though I know what &lt;em&gt;should&lt;/em&gt; help, I can't see the results of it yet.  I'm ready to abandon my car and just start walking even though I know that won't help either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-6741508097156110640?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/6741508097156110640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/01/lost.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6741508097156110640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6741508097156110640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/01/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-5237915117129874640</id><published>2009-01-13T20:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T20:25:36.387-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Answered Prayers?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm still a little weirded out, but in a good way.  I had something very odd happen to me yesterday.  All day Sunday I had something on my heart that I felt compelled to check on.  The more I ignored it, the more it popped in my head.  So out of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;curiosity&lt;/span&gt;, I made a phone call yesterday to check on what I was thinking about.  That person then proceeded to tell me that she had been praying for someone to do just that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What does that mean?  Was God pressing on my heart, using me to answer a prayer?  Or did I just do it on my own?  Or was it completely coincidental?  I'm under the belief that everything happens for a reason, even if it's a bad, terrible thing.  So I called her for a reason.  I'm okay with that.  But answering &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; prayer?  That's unbelievable to me.  If God used me to answer one person's prayer, what else could He use me for, if I only let him?  Maybe that's all it takes....letting God have control.  Maybe that's all it takes to have a God-filled life.  Why do we make it so much more difficult than that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;If we only give our life to God instead of trying to do everything alone, things would be much simpler.  That's what I've gotten out of this experience.  What have you gotten out of this story?  Maybe my story is supposed to help you let God take control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-5237915117129874640?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/5237915117129874640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/01/answered-prayers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/5237915117129874640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/5237915117129874640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/01/answered-prayers.html' title='Answered Prayers?'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-3680225314772754569</id><published>2009-01-11T18:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T19:05:16.087-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Evolution</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;I bet I got your attention with that title, huh?  I don't mean the whole monkey into man thing, I mean the other evolution...the kind that just means "change".  I've been thinking more and more about it lately.  There are certain people in my life that I have a particular mental image of.  When I think about Steven Guerrero, I have an image of him as I looked out the window of a bus as we were pulling up in front of the Rincon church building about 6 years ago.  I always picture my dad laid back in his recliner at our old house, asleep with the tv on.  I think about Scott Roderick wearing overalls at camp riding on a 4-wheeler.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But these people (as well as many more I can think of) have changed over the years and that picture in my head has to evolve also.  Steven is older now and I haven't been to the Rincon church building in years.  My parents have a new house and my dad doesn't usually sleep in his recliner anymore.  And I haven't seen Scott with overalls on in almost a year!  But why do I still think of them in that way?  Am I more comfortable with the old images?  No, not really.  That's just what my mind goes back to when their names are brought up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I'm sure other people think of me in the same way.  Some may see me as the tiny 12 year old with hair bigger than her whole body.  Some probably remember me as the church secretary in my tailored dress suit.  Others may remember me as a flirting college student (it's true...I flirted a little).  Even though all of those were me at one time, they aren't me now.  In fact, what I was like 6 months ago, isn't what I am now because I have evolved as a person.  It doesn't make me wishy-washy or anything else, because changing is good for human nature.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Why are people afraid of change?  I guess it's just fear of the unknown.  I revel in the thought of change.  If I get too comfortable with someone or something, I get lazy.  It takes evolving to keep my mind fresh.  And even though looking back on what once was makes me sad and nostalgic, I know that it was all changed by Him with a purpose, even if we cannot comprehend it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-3680225314772754569?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/3680225314772754569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/01/evolution.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/3680225314772754569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/3680225314772754569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/01/evolution.html' title='Evolution'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-1536274374933472813</id><published>2009-01-09T23:31:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T23:39:54.699-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bette Midler'/><title type='text'>Women</title><content type='html'>I just finished watched &lt;em&gt;The Women&lt;/em&gt; with my friend, Maria.  Interesting.  Men are dogs...I think that's the whole idea of the movie.  No, really, I think it goes deeper than that.  Here are a few things that I got from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Don't sell yourself out.&lt;br /&gt;*Stay true to what you want.&lt;br /&gt;*Be true to your friends.&lt;br /&gt;*Mother knows best.&lt;br /&gt;*It's okay to put yourself first every once in a while.&lt;br /&gt;*You never know what goes on behind closed doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, of course, I got a lot of curse words (lots of profanity!) and a little bit of my favorite diva, Bette Midler.  And since I love anything with Bette Midler, I thought it was a good movie.  A little crazy, a little....worldly...but altogether, I liked it.  And through the bad, came some good ideas that we could all learn from.  Well, all adults could learn from them.  You should probably send your kids to the grandparents while you watch this movie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-1536274374933472813?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/1536274374933472813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/01/women.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/1536274374933472813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/1536274374933472813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/01/women.html' title='Women'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6111701916398517037.post-6453578287996120779</id><published>2009-01-07T09:39:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T10:07:10.982-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Little Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drifting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writer'/><title type='text'>The First of Many</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;For some reason, I stopped writing a few years ago.  I'm not sure why, but it happened nonetheless.  Now I've returned to my passion, taking notes along the way.  Some people may disagree with me, but I think God is placing certain things on my heart and in my head to write about.  Ideas flood up within me and I can't write fast enough to get it all on paper (or computer screen).  Sometimes I feel like Jo March from &lt;em&gt;Little Women&lt;/em&gt;..."Late at night my mind would come alive with voices and stories and friends as dear to me as any in the real world. I gave myself up to it, longing for transformation."  I may not be as talented as Louisa May Alcott but I certainly have a mind for the printed word.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I intend on this blog being my springboard for ideas, outlash at society, and my love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Most people will read this post and wonder if the Mandy Moore they know has such things in her heart.  For some of you, the answer is yes!  As most see me, I am a goofy twenty-something who loves my family and dogs and has no life ambition...partially true.  The reason I appear to have no life ambition, is because I am a writer.  If you are an artist at heart, you will understand that statement.  People see artists and writers and musicians as people with no direction, drifting through the wind toward whatever is convenient at the time.  And if that is how you see us, that's okay with me.  I never wanted fame or fortune or a doctorate degree.  I only long for happiness and the satisfaction of a fulfilled life.  And writing gives me direction and satisfaction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I will never have a million dollars or a PhD or even my own talk show but I will have a life of happiness and mansion in heaven one day.  And as I see it, that is better than any worldly thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6111701916398517037-6453578287996120779?l=mooretirades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/feeds/6453578287996120779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-of-many.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6453578287996120779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6111701916398517037/posts/default/6453578287996120779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooretirades.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-of-many.html' title='The First of Many'/><author><name>Mandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05875867469358908534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2aEjt1qzWic/SlEfEHz4jDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9YYC-FfjOII/S220/IMG_0634+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
