tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65875381559859964732024-03-05T05:31:42.278-08:00Deep Scent of JasmineFinally HomeKarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-7810842013265747902017-02-12T05:49:00.001-08:002017-02-12T05:51:53.465-08:00Walk Slowly Mama<span style="color: #f4cccc;">I woke this morning to the following blog post sent to me by my Mom. <a href="http://foreverymom.com/family-parenting/walk-slowly-amanda-conquers/" target="_blank"><b>Read the post here.</b></a></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;">"Children tie the feet of their mother." - Old Indian Proverb</span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;">My girls literally initiated playing this game AS I was reading my Mom's recommended blog post. </span></div>
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Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-80829343725933750792016-11-17T13:49:00.002-08:002016-11-17T13:57:02.085-08:00Valentine's Day in November<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><b>I don't have deep thoughts for you today, but I can't let a delicious moment like this pass without sharing.</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #f4cccc;">Unusually warm for November, we are luxuriating in sunshine on the patio. I'm procrastinating. I have a 'to-do' list I want to accomplish before Thanksgiving, but something might get crossed off the list or postponed..... this is worth it. </span><span style="color: #f4cccc;">Weather doesn't follow my schedule. I'm healthiest and happiest when following the weather and adjusting my schedule accordingly.</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><b>Everyone knows how to cancel a picnic when it's raining, but what about canceling a household chore or even a workday for amazingly gorgeous weather? That's one thing I miss about living in Keystone, Colorado. When a big dumping of gorgeous powder falls, no one shows up for work that morning. Everyone is hitting the slopes, and it's not because they can't drive in snow. No. Everyone is driving their cars to the ski lift.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><b>So, if you're stuck in a task you'd rather not be doing, or stuck in a moment you'd rather not be experiencing and you can't see the everyday-glory of it, drink deep from this entire day we experienced at my house. Let's enjoy these moments before the rush of the holidays and maybe even slow down in December instead of speeding up. Moments like this are hiding around every corner. Perhaps you'll see yours tomorrow, or perhaps you already saw a glorious moment recently. Share your glorious moment with us below...</b></span></div>
Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-71142409753447503452016-10-21T13:03:00.000-07:002016-10-21T16:59:08.376-07:00An Unscheduled Moment<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: inherit;">My children invented a game, this morning,
which involved the little one pushing the big one out into the rain, dissolving
in fits of laughter and repeating. I was drawn away from the kitchen to the
intoxicating sound of their joy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: inherit;">In my experience,
creative, spontaneous play unfolds organically when children are given large
amounts of unscheduled time to follow the whims of their developing brain in a safe and familiar location, like their own home. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: inherit;">In spite of my
strong commitment spontaneous expression, I constantly find
myself feeling pressured by "schedule," "measuring my worth by
production" and "number of organized activities," values highly
revered by American culture. Certainly schedules, goal setting, planned activities and
production have their place and have the potential to facilitate a certain amount of joy and satisfaction, but every human needs a balance of scheduled time and unplanned
time. Some of us are designed to flourish in a more structured environment and
some of us are designed to flourish in a less structured environment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: inherit;">I'm still learning
who my children are and what they need as individuals, but I know I myself
thrive on large amounts of unplanned space to create and follow an unseen
"flow." Perhaps it could be called an "unseen structure."
In spite of this self awareness, I spend far too much time chasing satisfaction
from rigid models of daily life. Today the example of my children, and their
deep notes of delight in surprise creativity, beckoned me back home.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18px;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: inherit;">I welcome you to delay your next activity by another 39 seconds, walk into my home through this one minute video and relive this unplanned moment with me.....</span></span></div>
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Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-31291159307117483142016-09-03T18:01:00.001-07:002016-10-21T18:04:17.139-07:00"If you want to go far...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<img src="webkit-fake-url://113aa98c-d470-4e54-b476-bcfa59197baa/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://35f38c87-4899-4c43-8b47-d1846ed0caff/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://914cd268-09d2-449e-88d3-2ed195972eca/imagejpeg" />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-28551582542729287812016-06-29T16:58:00.002-07:002016-06-29T17:00:29.512-07:00New in Kara's Shop - Memories of Barbados<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/449762124/port-ferdinand-barbados" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbz9Hs-OAfg3ckSndrz0pqQ7CqoVqwcExNnKddxIVn4iv1R_pKvGzbpnJ4PCYnNBxhdMZwiTL_YOjck9rK095_AQdDJcFVU2OyzGznZ67rRlKNZtYtx3glPYnwuC9wVI7wI40HLADTaL_S/s320/IMG_7117%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/449762124/port-ferdinand-barbados" target="_blank"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">Buy Now</span></a></b></div>
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<b><a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/449762124/port-ferdinand-barbados" target="_blank"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">Explore Shop</span></a></b></div>
<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-66324522572223864102016-06-29T16:45:00.003-07:002016-06-29T17:12:49.412-07:00Tug of War - a Toe in Three Worlds<div style="font-family: uictfonttextstylebody; font-size: 17px;">
<span style="color: #fff2cc;"><b>June 19, 2016</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">It's 6:49am. I'm on a plane to Miami, then Barbados, for my first vacation in 5 years, alone with my husband, without pregnancy or babies. Life is good.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">After navigating the inevitable tears, (mine, not theirs) I feel myself sinking deep into this gift of rest. An entire week. My body has almost forgotten, but is ready to remember, sucking in this oxygen of freedom to fill every cell from my fingertips to my toes.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">🎶 "Toes in the water...tush in the sand..." 🎶</span><br />
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Where's the RV? It's waiting for us, forlorn, at Camping World... on hold while we finish two other adventures and reunite in July for one last RV adventure of summer 2016.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">We disappeared from this blog over the last month, caught up in the excitement and charm of our new house. Our furniture arrived and we couldn't help abandoning the RV to unpack box after box, reuniting with little treasures that remind us of Home. It was better than Christmas Morning. We LOVE our new nest. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">The delight, which charms us most at our new address, is the tree swing. We are IN LOVE with our big backyard, rider mower for Mama and tree swing for Samantha. Massive trees give character and shelter to a welcoming neighborhood, walking distance to Daddy's new college campus.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">This is the first neighborhood I've ever lived in which feels like a neighborhood is supposed to feel; it's a community that cares for one-another. Within our first week we had more interactions and had already made more friends than we ever did in any previous house, even the house we lived in for 7 years!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">In June, after a two month RV adventure, we were ready to be seduced by the warm embrace of our new home. We have come to the conclusion that we love RVing and exploring the U.S.A, but we also love a sprawling house and patio and the familiarity of one location. We enjoy both lifestyles. As the years go by, we plan to indulge in a mixture of both.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;"><b>June 26, 11:30pm</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Barbados was incredible. I've never been so grateful for a vacation in my entire life. </span><br />
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<a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/449762124/port-ferdinand-barbados" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHOSV4MKUslhqRVo-sjDLXUxk0oAQ3-QBMCK10zCmvx4GCb1uBp1T3XZgKvbinHcgvdMbwbBJeL9yuCN8_PbPFmgnHztLGxllLNdT_mbHehlvs_HMsrDAihl_n38xiuPFzTmYd_rYrmQa/s320/IMG_7117%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a><span id="goog_891411942"></span><span id="goog_891411943"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">I swam with sea turtles, became deeply tan, talking with two of my favorite vacation buddies, (you girls know who you are) I drank more local rum than I ever knew I could, I twisted and stretched in outdoor yoga class, tucked in gorgeous, tropical woods (where we were warned that if a monkey showed up we would need to vacate the area quickly as they are pesky little trouble makers). I danced with locals and tourists alike, outdoors, at Oistens Fish Fry, til 11:00, when a fight broke out and 50 cab drivers were lined up ready to whisk us away to the safety of our hotels and homes. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Last, but not least, I discovered that while I may have Caucasian skin, my soul far more resembles a dark skinned Barbadian, than any of the light skinned people from the many light skinned countries I've visited. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">I'm now on a plane, ears popping as we descend, destined to crawl into bed next to my beloved little girls in the middle of the night. My three year old has put on a brave face, but I can see she doesn't fully understand my need for a full week away from her and my ten month old is 100% confused by the whole thing, but they will understand someday and they will also be grateful. In the meantime, they are about to get more kisses than they ever knew possible. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Til next time....</span></div>
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Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-76939196998897879362016-05-13T13:48:00.000-07:002016-05-13T18:20:12.175-07:00When She's Frustrating Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Yes, I admit it, this human with this adorable face has the ability to frustrate me at times. Like now. I'm trying to talk to you, and she is clamoring to be held. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Don't worry. I love holding this funny bunny. She gets loads of attention, but she just turned 9 months and now thinks we should hold her 24/7 </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">My solution? RV life provides seat belts in the couches! Now she's safely strapped in with toys, but she's sitting right next to me feeling special to be on the couch with Mommy. Problem solved.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2FW-I4SlumSt3MWxjGFC3SuRcWQG2ui0gHDRnhKJvIBGgjP1b38MMnoqB6lrJiEAzvRJqCeTcQJV2cvl6l0omhQvmXIvJqZNKwHqaitXEKqsBf_37PeQB5UwwiRBWRySRmVQEhgtDIHup/s1600/P1013946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2FW-I4SlumSt3MWxjGFC3SuRcWQG2ui0gHDRnhKJvIBGgjP1b38MMnoqB6lrJiEAzvRJqCeTcQJV2cvl6l0omhQvmXIvJqZNKwHqaitXEKqsBf_37PeQB5UwwiRBWRySRmVQEhgtDIHup/s320/P1013946.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">"Who me?????"</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOLgjAuy9T0Vhyqqc7m9E_b8yXnBVWUFsXnvH-9SJpBfQmmSx17bYjqQ-mS8XloX686pXceWLkVnoljkITEYt-nDe2MECJ1cYd9zayz6cm7IItLjx-ixSs5wfLuSBTKMJHaspHkq7xsTK/s1600/P1013945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOLgjAuy9T0Vhyqqc7m9E_b8yXnBVWUFsXnvH-9SJpBfQmmSx17bYjqQ-mS8XloX686pXceWLkVnoljkITEYt-nDe2MECJ1cYd9zayz6cm7IItLjx-ixSs5wfLuSBTKMJHaspHkq7xsTK/s320/P1013945.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Experience our Stunning week in Asheville!</span> - <b><i><a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2016/05/where-i-last-left-you-asheville-dream.html" target="_blank">click here</a></i></b></div>
Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-61756698228004247112016-05-12T13:38:00.002-07:002016-05-12T13:40:09.439-07:00New Art Print - Spring Green - Northern Georgia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg75JmZb4QjTfJZ9RE14NuLRo58DnINRz1En21uI0xnIwa0SP5mIS8dCTKdGvM7fm1xLWJ1dYySvox_jfTIjiYI7K4N2hR12iqpa71JI0KXyPBbhapIAOz-_f8P5m7_qdUH5gpj4af0bgw/s1600/Stone+Mountain+2016.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg75JmZb4QjTfJZ9RE14NuLRo58DnINRz1En21uI0xnIwa0SP5mIS8dCTKdGvM7fm1xLWJ1dYySvox_jfTIjiYI7K4N2hR12iqpa71JI0KXyPBbhapIAOz-_f8P5m7_qdUH5gpj4af0bgw/s320/Stone+Mountain+2016.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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Available Now</div>
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<b><i><a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/292575827/spring-green?ref=shop_home_active_1" target="_blank">Shop Here</a></i></b></div>
Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-9121396024613240962016-05-12T13:28:00.002-07:002016-10-21T18:05:15.524-07:00Daily Sink Baths - Tiny Living<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vVgB3mnTBwktBXS3kXzVpXhEotLMBcqgLALjp1yhNpV-FGTPXAffDED8MJnreZvCnQBaw01cy9klnnRm_4t8_IU-fZ_AXVyTVB5dQMYnn34XvJhHTubMc09OqqhaGtRc51Xyv0pyhnm7/s1600/P1013889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vVgB3mnTBwktBXS3kXzVpXhEotLMBcqgLALjp1yhNpV-FGTPXAffDED8MJnreZvCnQBaw01cy9klnnRm_4t8_IU-fZ_AXVyTVB5dQMYnn34XvJhHTubMc09OqqhaGtRc51Xyv0pyhnm7/s320/P1013889.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNLgEYb-iHUt7SwZRtQIniBRgRyBK64Zu9PJmyJO7c1qkq5qWpu7ikkRnwTmWg2DggadZ6b0bFNSXoGqNM2b5_rXIONrdKRnpfkpU3ciNzcq2ZfyxLe3sm495oNdU_tW7m-tQfgE00_0iD/s1600/P1013891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNLgEYb-iHUt7SwZRtQIniBRgRyBK64Zu9PJmyJO7c1qkq5qWpu7ikkRnwTmWg2DggadZ6b0bFNSXoGqNM2b5_rXIONrdKRnpfkpU3ciNzcq2ZfyxLe3sm495oNdU_tW7m-tQfgE00_0iD/s320/P1013891.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">If I feed her, she can sit anywhere. If she feeds herself wet cereal, she must sit in the sink and end with a sink bath. We actually use the sink for the three year old as well. She still prefers baths over showers and there is no bathtub in this particular RV or most RVs. But the unusual thrill of a sink bath is not lost on either of my baby girls! This fun event also serves as an opportunity for me to complete tasks in the kitchen while they still feel like they are "with me."</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuj10zgaP-KmgJ2hEvMZNpp0hso_glhgAlPje6AyFgO-Ngbm5XmITyf6zKGAMU5FRc3Y5CNtvWPKGH3aSRibgfdgAS8sbSfxQx8FrkYfdMNbh5U4GRyqnV_qMEiKqi-Ev4B55yhkkW3gDV/s1600/P1013893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuj10zgaP-KmgJ2hEvMZNpp0hso_glhgAlPje6AyFgO-Ngbm5XmITyf6zKGAMU5FRc3Y5CNtvWPKGH3aSRibgfdgAS8sbSfxQx8FrkYfdMNbh5U4GRyqnV_qMEiKqi-Ev4B55yhkkW3gDV/s320/P1013893.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Experience our stunning week in Asheville! <b><i><a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2016/05/where-i-last-left-you-asheville-dream.html" target="_blank">click here</a> </i></b></div>
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-29151368082098367242016-05-12T13:15:00.001-07:002016-05-13T18:13:42.357-07:00Where I Last Left You - Asheville - a Dream Fulfilled<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">- Wednesday, April, 4 -</span><br />
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">As I write these words, I'm living a 20 year dream. It started as a teenager, reading <u style="font-style: italic;">Christie,</u> by Catherine Marshall. Mystery and magic of the misty mountains danced in my imagination and never left me. Somehow, I never made it to Asheville til now, in spite of encouragement from many, many people, reinforcing Asheville as a place that was not only delightful in the 1800's, but is still alive with healthy, vibrant culture and growth today.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM40AEZpA9_O1VsaOS-N_Y43t1uOCU0DaWQXzHv-RXM3bFtwFKxJHlV9L9tR4Gqshlz_M3ncs0WxzaufRdYhjUIX6OExcOjKMlmGiJLguBYZjcHJks8s9bVJEiLhTjdqxGHYm-sn0HZS4M/s1600/P1013902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM40AEZpA9_O1VsaOS-N_Y43t1uOCU0DaWQXzHv-RXM3bFtwFKxJHlV9L9tR4Gqshlz_M3ncs0WxzaufRdYhjUIX6OExcOjKMlmGiJLguBYZjcHJks8s9bVJEiLhTjdqxGHYm-sn0HZS4M/s320/P1013902.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">- Thursday, April 12 -</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">A week ago, I was sitting in my co-pilot perch, just as I am now, and you and I were having a delightful chat. I forced myself to close this computer and soak up the moment. I nearly missed the glory of a dream fulfilled in my eagerness to record it and share it with you! Isn't this the tug of war we all experience in this super techie connected world? We are so eager to be seen and heard and validated, we often miss an opportunity to fully soak in an experience in our eagerness to share it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">We are on the road again, beginning our next adventure, but for now, let's soak up the last 9 days together.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">This photo says it all. We woke to breathtaking views every morning, played beside and bid these views goodnight, every day and night, in Asheville. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHo2JrcfaF9C668KJgdu4e7frQtQeKqwkLQuTp6aIKtm8FRg7NNgp0qdkLUxPeYuGn22RZ3k01_6mGvvE09QShg76tHaQKF97T7lp7jWPwn29aZONrbMapdESSRXTcfWjHlOaxWnLefU_/s1600/P1013920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHo2JrcfaF9C668KJgdu4e7frQtQeKqwkLQuTp6aIKtm8FRg7NNgp0qdkLUxPeYuGn22RZ3k01_6mGvvE09QShg76tHaQKF97T7lp7jWPwn29aZONrbMapdESSRXTcfWjHlOaxWnLefU_/s320/P1013920.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiARLTkrcMDBcVUwflF3-ppxAB8GxwqWh4dprae-X6CMt5k10qammSuDxEhjukGE07wJKpTuGrgRPmQQ5eGm5ayQs9AviEgNaQbsnWiDhF26Db7uMFxdtTMVbGKZhkMBEGGP_GTqT8875kt/s1600/P1013912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiARLTkrcMDBcVUwflF3-ppxAB8GxwqWh4dprae-X6CMt5k10qammSuDxEhjukGE07wJKpTuGrgRPmQQ5eGm5ayQs9AviEgNaQbsnWiDhF26Db7uMFxdtTMVbGKZhkMBEGGP_GTqT8875kt/s320/P1013912.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Literally, all of these scenic photos are taken from our RV windows. To prove it, a glass of wildflowers from my morning hike, placed on my dinette and the mountains behind...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDg11hzvZ8FvwiG1UT-LZn3H1ihsF6JcCV6MSKyJEq0FxsLzExPzO5jTLfPpBv_onHtKz6ZhKlsZNO7a_R2EXDkgekwTqPg7iSKTuFWIMl23soyY7T802r0jgHw7tNWEwI4PApNbgXVHQ-/s1600/P1013937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDg11hzvZ8FvwiG1UT-LZn3H1ihsF6JcCV6MSKyJEq0FxsLzExPzO5jTLfPpBv_onHtKz6ZhKlsZNO7a_R2EXDkgekwTqPg7iSKTuFWIMl23soyY7T802r0jgHw7tNWEwI4PApNbgXVHQ-/s320/P1013937.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">How often does anyone do a puzzle on a picnic table in front of a view like this?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixccY74uh4Px63_FHxkU812CzmLDGLqAvrj8sL2ssTirkaam4PlxSfTRKMkQgIagj_IUZJ1n35JtVv8w5wAvoDujAibLHvK99b3jjmiCdT8V3tNIufbPeFJhgXhyphenhyphenjWG6pmU2Cafii32FIu/s1600/P1013917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixccY74uh4Px63_FHxkU812CzmLDGLqAvrj8sL2ssTirkaam4PlxSfTRKMkQgIagj_IUZJ1n35JtVv8w5wAvoDujAibLHvK99b3jjmiCdT8V3tNIufbPeFJhgXhyphenhyphenjWG6pmU2Cafii32FIu/s320/P1013917.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">The following demonstrates why these are called the Smokey Mountains or the Misty Mountains.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLkN-POijCyx-kDonUCuGsHuRBVZguw2RtuBkXBucYwKMTZfwLA2-cwqG99V2ENMJtYo8X7KexVgM97bEoTJf8OT0XJ8G0pFbo0hDVQRzp6oixMTKPkAYh62bL6K9jWU4NZa11_mtqZXQj/s1600/P1013922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLkN-POijCyx-kDonUCuGsHuRBVZguw2RtuBkXBucYwKMTZfwLA2-cwqG99V2ENMJtYo8X7KexVgM97bEoTJf8OT0XJ8G0pFbo0hDVQRzp6oixMTKPkAYh62bL6K9jWU4NZa11_mtqZXQj/s320/P1013922.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Everywhere we drove in Asheville, beauty took my breath away as we drove up and down common roads, rounding corner after corner to see another awesome view. I fuss instead of giving praise far more than I care to admit, but there has always been something about mountains which draw spontaneous hallelujahs from my soul. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Souvenirs from this week include a handmade, colorful purse from Asheville's covered, open air flea market, open 7 days a week. Proceeds of this purchase went to support Nepalese women. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Mother's Day we enjoyed brunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe with Mom and Dad Sherman. Winning national awards, this is a "must visit" anytime you're in Asheville. Light, flaky, plump biscuits and an intro to the concept of a fried avocado left me a happy mommy.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">If you like honey, The Bee Charmer is another "must visit." After tasting only 7 of the 18ish available testers, we walked away with Cranberry Honey for the road.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Our last night in Asheville, we drove a mile, to the bottom of our hill, to drink and have a snack at The Thirsty Monk. We like visiting unique pubs during our travels and The Thirsty Monk was family friendly. Samantha enjoyed a Root Beer and, we have NO idea where she picked it up, but she loves to do "cheers" with Mommy and Daddy and clink glasses. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">On that note, "cheers" to you and your weekend, wherever you are... Russia, Poland, Nepal, China, Indonesia or United States... just a few of the places you live! May my travels, discoveries and conversation inspire you to live life to the fullest in every culture and circumstance. Praise to the One who created all of us!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">for <b>Cute</b> P<b>hotos</b> of RV sink baths, <b><i><a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2016/05/daily-sink-baths-tiny-living.html" target="_blank">click here</a></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">for <b>New </b>A<b>rtwork</b> of Northern Georgia, <i><b><a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2016/05/new-art-print-spring-green-northern.html" target="_blank">click here</a></b></i></span></div>
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Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-23047448325076411792016-05-05T11:09:00.000-07:002016-05-05T11:10:56.356-07:00oh wait! - did I forget to tell you?!...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">...we had our first experience camping in a Walmart parking lot overnight. And we planned it this way! It's an RV tradition. When you're traveling and want to break up the trip, but you don't know how far you'll make it and don't have a reservation, you can pull off the road at any rest area, OR a Walmart parking lot. Walmart welcomes this because there is always plenty of space and it encourages shopping. RVers appreciate this because there's always an item or two we need on the go and we also appreciate the well lit lot with 24 hour security.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Samantha has a current fixation with sticks. Here she is, playing who knows what at a stand of trees next to Walmart. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRiEg9Tsvwz3nzdYgwLZpCYDClbQTTmZkzBngsR1IcUQ6soBOKkDSkWDHrSKz8y47gCCTBghTrEl9mk5SphO19wcmppwIl2RacLdGvXDJu1AuhuY3nucDIgYDO9-urvWfJ-3ahb3iLLfWy/s1600/P1013885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRiEg9Tsvwz3nzdYgwLZpCYDClbQTTmZkzBngsR1IcUQ6soBOKkDSkWDHrSKz8y47gCCTBghTrEl9mk5SphO19wcmppwIl2RacLdGvXDJu1AuhuY3nucDIgYDO9-urvWfJ-3ahb3iLLfWy/s320/P1013885.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">If you're gonna do Walmart, there's nothing like the early morning Waffle House tradition before getting back on the road. To be honest, sometimes we go for Waffle House even when we're not traveling. We love the diner atmosphere. Furthermore, the employees at Waffle House are consistently some of the most down to earth, pleasant people to take your order... even when they're hustling, bustling and sort of stressed. On this particular Sunday morning, it wasn't busy. Worship music filled the diner and all three waitresses were soulfully singing and dancing their way to each table.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Finally, there is nothing like good conversation over breakfast with this expressive little person...</span></div>
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Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-64764886624551924272016-05-04T14:35:00.001-07:002016-05-04T16:07:36.387-07:00Northward Bound - Highway Pictures - Goodbye, Georgia!<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">What a gorgeous day to be on the road. Blue sky and cool breeze pave the road ahead as I write to you now. Below is the view from my windshield!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">We're pressing Northward. You'll never believe the beautiful location waiting for us in North Carolina. In the meantime, where have we been the last 5 days?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">Saturday, our journey began in Southeastern Georgia.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">It all started with an early morning discussion over cheerios. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">It was our first major drive from one location to another. During projects like this, both Chris and I tend to focus on a task list and end goal and become stressed and snippy with one another. We often miss joy available in the journey. We've both heard that the journey is equally important as the destination. Nonetheless, we get emotionally attached to a time frame in which we want to accomplish a goal (such as arriving at the next campground by a certain time - <i>Chris</i>) or we rush through the "mundane tasks" to hurry up and get to the "fun part" (<i>Kara</i>). For example, I detest packing and unpacking, but I've been trying to view this task as an enjoyable life experience. I didn't manage to stay in this lovely frame of mind all day, but for a moment, at the start of the day, I paused my morning dishes to dance with Annabelle.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">The freedom to "meander" is, after all, one of the reasons to go RVing. We must be getting better at this, because, literally, as I'm writing this, we just passed a sign for strawberries. I casually commented, as I usually would, "awww, we could pick strawberries," not actually expecting to stop. About 30 seconds later Chris says, "you wanna stop?" </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">That did it. My heart is what stopped. We've arrived! We have officially entered the spirit of RVing. "Yes!" was my enthusiastic response.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzg5lhsz3hCiYqPXbwZlpEpqh4RlTYeaeXUvTkrBfxaz8KOTDrz1Cbbhm7nYD9QHxiTpyViwmKTHpjYsmFCkllA5t1AgdaWbvsqtys2jGGm-FiBwZfoXhSUBl2oLDWb0mvQ5G79vY_ReJ1/s1600/P1013899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzg5lhsz3hCiYqPXbwZlpEpqh4RlTYeaeXUvTkrBfxaz8KOTDrz1Cbbhm7nYD9QHxiTpyViwmKTHpjYsmFCkllA5t1AgdaWbvsqtys2jGGm-FiBwZfoXhSUBl2oLDWb0mvQ5G79vY_ReJ1/s320/P1013899.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">As it turns out, they aren't open today. But at least we stopped. It's a start. Next time we will have the full unplanned experience. This time I'm satisfied because I chatted with a local for 5 minutes on the side of the road. He wanted to hear all about our RV trip, something he's dreamed of doing for years. Perhaps our detour lit another spark to push him towards his dreams.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">Every time I have one of these impromptu conversations, I'm reminded of my Dad who never met a stranger. He didn't do small talk. Every day with him was an opportunity to inspire people to love Jesus, fix social injustice and pursue worthy dreams.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">But I digress. We stopped for strawberries today. We were at Stone Mountain, in Northern Georgia for the last three nights between Jekyll Island and our next location. Stone Mountain attractions were mostly closed for the slow season, so we didn't end up doing much there, other than enjoying the playground, which was enough to thrill our three year old. We also surprised her with a trip to the Atlanta Zoo where she met up with her best friend, Mari. Samantha and Mari have been neighbors for 2 years, which amounts to the majority of their lives. Mari will return to Japan at the end of 2016 and we will move to Virginia, but Samantha and Mari are deeply sad to be separated. Samantha does not miss the "Birmingham house," but she does miss Mari. I wish you could have seen them spot one another at the Zoo entrance, shout one another's names, and run, like a scene from a movie, falling into a delighted embrace. Samantha and Mari led us four parents through the park to point out each new animal with squeals. The highlight? Panda Bears. In the evening, as this glorious day slipped into memory, I was inspired to "computer paint" the following for the girls to save and remember always.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrvk_BG5NEPxQ6yamCaz1zffx1OMnELGziyNIWuHF4HeCv1PHuyZyAPqIBOTMjFmwH5QGPZQKcgLDso7NHybUI5QZbSShbWMAx7rCJUFsNhxBj0Va59id8mNE8BcP8jnFQk_XOkhKcMAD/s1600/Panda+Babies.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrvk_BG5NEPxQ6yamCaz1zffx1OMnELGziyNIWuHF4HeCv1PHuyZyAPqIBOTMjFmwH5QGPZQKcgLDso7NHybUI5QZbSShbWMAx7rCJUFsNhxBj0Va59id8mNE8BcP8jnFQk_XOkhKcMAD/s320/Panda+Babies.png" width="298" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">The location we have just pulled into now is a place I've dreamed of visiting for twenty years. I will post more tomorrow... right now I need to soak up this moment...</span></div>
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Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-17942444650935829762016-04-29T13:34:00.001-07:002016-04-29T15:28:21.708-07:00Cinderella's Carriage Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBds2cwsWLp8l_czdNP3wPukGxrim-htFwu56s2zvP479mWzePy7yZ0QpcedDQrD-0d0FrNO1B6fMoVcgBpZFas3j0PcvwN34adCiVJZxbl5n9Cvqz2ycnx-ouNmRobhmHKtvy2HajuCV/s1600/P1013711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBds2cwsWLp8l_czdNP3wPukGxrim-htFwu56s2zvP479mWzePy7yZ0QpcedDQrD-0d0FrNO1B6fMoVcgBpZFas3j0PcvwN34adCiVJZxbl5n9Cvqz2ycnx-ouNmRobhmHKtvy2HajuCV/s320/P1013711.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-35783390229770459882016-04-29T13:25:00.003-07:002016-04-29T18:26:35.442-07:00Art on the Road<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/291811987/turtle-family" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQ9g8BM8nGBI9QAca0jg_-VPoOPGpu8H_6MmM616Uz1AAXSi3Jw83PBmux7cjnueyJaLvJxVRx54NLkvloBLCinsm2jnRXUhDkHXxWT7Wun64jYcAhYUY4C9FOJjTb9InsNLp2rmmeSlU/s320/Turtle+Family.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i><a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/291811987/turtle-family" target="_blank">Buy Now</a></i></b></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">We are packing up and wheeling out. Today we are disassembling the outdoor living space and securing loose items inside the "house." Tomorrow we will fire up the engine, say goodbye to Jekyll Island and watch the open road rolling beneath us with expectant eyes and hearts through our enormous "picture window" windshield, ready for the next adventure. We are following 75 degree weather as it works it's way up the U.S. East Coast.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Jekyll Island was the perfect location for our first month as rookie RVers. I am excited for the new environment of our next location, but I will miss the trees here. The entire campground is canopied by great, towering live oaks. Spanish moss drips off hundred year old giants who guard the campground like strong, welcoming angels. On a historic carriage ride, we learned there are several trees on the Island over 600 years old!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;"> Highlights of our first month RVing can be read <i style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2016/04/april-at-glance.html" target="_blank">here</a>. </i>Photos too!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">My artistic inspiration is flowing. I've created two pieces of art to commemorate our time on Jekyll Island and I intend to do the same at each location we visit. Prints on Canvas are available in my <b><i><a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/EverydayGloryArt" target="_blank">shop</a>.</i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/278264776/driftwood-beach-abstract?ref=listing-shop-header-1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3rovewD9wJBjCdpdjdkRN5GZVCCwivWccB6oBJYZv0QM6aGLmfnyqnJ7H913b4doPo552zl9v8WrqMEkLrBA07yvhu-vw-QMW2aV6oYzuaHSmN3IFr_JIpw-3n2tBRRH7m7orzJz3dzd/s320/DRIFTWOOD+ABSTRACT.png" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<b><i><a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/278264776/driftwood-beach-abstract?ref=listing-shop-header-1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">Buy Now</span></a></i></b></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Stay tuned for our next location!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">But first... catch up on what you've missed.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;"><b><i><a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2016/04/april-at-glance.html" target="_blank">April at a Glance</a></i></b></span></div>
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-20376159107258774892016-04-29T13:23:00.000-07:002016-04-29T15:29:28.508-07:00April at a Glance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">We told stories...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxcnNwxXNVu6H5pRdcfB1Q-He-UMksJAWmkrNZEJGFrBPSLLz6wLbZxMyo4Lo_Jd95tMxpBA5Nh-ANfBcbjjhT0Am2_qZ2DreZKHUX_xnnz1YeHIRRjsNWNUbVrNRqaAFVyg3kNztmjsX/s1600/P1013470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxcnNwxXNVu6H5pRdcfB1Q-He-UMksJAWmkrNZEJGFrBPSLLz6wLbZxMyo4Lo_Jd95tMxpBA5Nh-ANfBcbjjhT0Am2_qZ2DreZKHUX_xnnz1YeHIRRjsNWNUbVrNRqaAFVyg3kNztmjsX/s320/P1013470.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">folded mountains of laundry...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">(laundry doesn't let up no matter what campground you hide in. But laundry became almost pleasant when I did it outside on the picnic table.) </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb9V9IH8y0mlWo9hT9OWLCL1OvSFFo8XNomFcyaJ94Oiw4FfmTE0_GYbdnC1TtECxkQIIXHEElMEud1Pf_GXUOrjfb-sawTSNTGEaFfuSGACSwgK-agQ-5VnOjY5Bu7Zg3RM2t9e5ODYwc/s1600/P1013474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb9V9IH8y0mlWo9hT9OWLCL1OvSFFo8XNomFcyaJ94Oiw4FfmTE0_GYbdnC1TtECxkQIIXHEElMEud1Pf_GXUOrjfb-sawTSNTGEaFfuSGACSwgK-agQ-5VnOjY5Bu7Zg3RM2t9e5ODYwc/s320/P1013474.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Grilled as many food groups as possible...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcK14ZzOGx2JlNWOVtR62PuBXrMNp7U2bVNNeef7nyoTmN-Hk5yTFS1dEYNZu8j5teyPPChGxQnp2J-YiRgEUgfd_D7uxJIPqw2YaJCoAx6TfD1m9O7zLlzH4q0w5x-Vn_leZYHU0vmSK7/s1600/P1013489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcK14ZzOGx2JlNWOVtR62PuBXrMNp7U2bVNNeef7nyoTmN-Hk5yTFS1dEYNZu8j5teyPPChGxQnp2J-YiRgEUgfd_D7uxJIPqw2YaJCoAx6TfD1m9O7zLlzH4q0w5x-Vn_leZYHU0vmSK7/s320/P1013489.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Welcomed visitors...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjialwn5QliTqzoWxkwCBg2Iae92GHfyN7Hu7Fyzd3T_PR7ikjDX4xS6ztcvhjNwdcocttKRHFBwCVgQJmyzLOBw8A1vp95NwPMfClwSvWATD3w9WWAKQJuD6ccvjq8RqgSTLKDciOLFzhs/s1600/P1013511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjialwn5QliTqzoWxkwCBg2Iae92GHfyN7Hu7Fyzd3T_PR7ikjDX4xS6ztcvhjNwdcocttKRHFBwCVgQJmyzLOBw8A1vp95NwPMfClwSvWATD3w9WWAKQJuD6ccvjq8RqgSTLKDciOLFzhs/s320/P1013511.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Puzzled both inside and outside...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgttpr4d-2V6i94GfHGhGYadnnAOyKJQsHHA8cLqBZJFIitd_H_JK-T4KN9FUm0dxk3uv1bEMBYjRnes5K3_D1QUuFQPQFJTo4ol-F2TRiodTIQt-iAu3XriMCWghPYYeYg1IVGAVUpJWDd/s1600/P1013525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgttpr4d-2V6i94GfHGhGYadnnAOyKJQsHHA8cLqBZJFIitd_H_JK-T4KN9FUm0dxk3uv1bEMBYjRnes5K3_D1QUuFQPQFJTo4ol-F2TRiodTIQt-iAu3XriMCWghPYYeYg1IVGAVUpJWDd/s320/P1013525.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">This purchase is dynamite for RVers who love a good puzzle. Space is an issue, but not with this handy tote board. It slides under our bed when we are taking a break on a 2000 piece puzzle. This might even be genius for life in any home. You can find it at: http://www.bitsandpieces.com/product/puzzle_store/puzzle_organizers</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">And we told more stories...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">Telling stories, instead of reading books, has become a favorite pastime. It all started 6 months ago when I told Samantha the story of "Mommy and Daddy's wedding" for the first time. This is a tradition started by my Dad. When my sister and I were small, we often stalled bedtime by asking Dad to repeat the story of his wedding day. Hundreds of times, we never tired of it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">The first time I recounted the events of my wedding day to Samantha, I found myself laughing at unexpected moments. Certain traditions, like the cutting of the cake, take surprising creativity to explain to the mind of a three year old. For example, why did Mommy and Daddy "feed eachother" the cake like they feed baby Annabelle? We both nearly wet our pants laughing over this one. And then there was the end of the story where a huge crowd of adults stands outside to blow bubbles all over us as we hold hands and run to our car and hop in and drive away to live happily ever after. Adults blowing bubbles at us? It really becomes illogical and hysterical through the eyes of a child.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd;">We did much more during the month of April. I will share more in a future post. In the meantime, if you want to see photos of Samantha's Cinderella Carriage Ride, <b><i><a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2016/04/cinderellas-carriage-ride.html" target="_blank">click here</a></i></b></span></div>
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-76557343910157498702016-04-17T14:20:00.001-07:002016-04-29T15:33:08.940-07:00When the Wind is Stronger than Your Roots<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #f4cccc;">It was Day 4 or 5, mid afternoon,
Samantha was just finishing a nap and I was preparing to put Annabelle down to
start a nap when I got a call from Chris. He told me to get the girls ready. As
soon as he arrived home, we were going to jump in the Jeep with him and check
out a beach he stumbled across while away running errands. I LOVE IT when he
does this. Usually he is counting on me to make fun plans for the family. I
love it when he surprises me with a cool plan. Annabelle would survive a missed
nap. Early bedtime or something.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #f4cccc;">THIS is the beach. Driftwood Beach. Have
you heard of it? I never had. I forgot my camera in the excitement of jumping
in the Jeep. We parked, walked down an enchanted, narrow path through the woods
and stepping out into this scene, my jaw dropped. I was in awe. I'd never seen
anything like this before. I asked Chris for the keys and I raced back to the
campground to get my camera. My mind was already forming this blog post for
you.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #f4cccc;">THIS is what happens when the wind and
water are stronger than our roots.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's beautiful in a way.</span></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And this? Seriously? It looks like a
giant sci-fi spider.</span></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This next one... See it? A torn heart?</span></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Here... I'll draw the top back in for
you...</span></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #f4cccc;">These giant, majestic trees...</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There will ALWAYS be something more
giant, more majestic.</span></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Extra strong, this one. But his time will
come.</span></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #f4cccc;">I've been discussing the subject of
roots and change on this blog for years. What an amazing visual to illustrate
this topic. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #f4cccc;">At 4 years old, my roots were deeply
dependent on that green house on Cherokee Lane. (read: <a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2016/04/always-moving-always-at-home-we-are-now.html" target="_blank">April 3rd Post</a> for that story.)
Yet 36 years of moving led me to write a post in 2014 about planting my roots
in a different Source. (see post: <a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2014/10/a-life-on-move-searching-for-home.html" target="_blank">October 2, 2014</a>) Little did I know
that 12 days later my husband would arrive home early from work to carefully
deliver the news that my Dad had shot himself. Suicide is an event of high
winds far stronger than any relocation from one house to another.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #f4cccc;">I am still on a journey of transplanting
roots of my heart from the shakable to the unshakable. Just because I'm RVing,
doesn't mean I have this root thing all figured out.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lately I've been
asking myself the following question: What does that ancient text mean when it
says, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i>"Do not
store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and
where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in
heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in
or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">How, exactly, do
I store my treasure in heaven? When I kiss my daughter goodnight, is that
action kept, for safekeeping, in heaven? I can't capture every precious,
glittering moment on camera, and even if I could, moth and rust will eventually
destroy it, even if I store photo albums carefully for 150 years of grandchildren. Are
all these beautiful moments being saved in heaven somewhere for my later
enjoyment? Am I storing up treasure in heaven when I wash dishes? Or give a
homeless man a bag of groceries? Is it only certain actions that get put into
heavenly storage or is it the Spirit in which we do it? Another text says, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i>"if I give
all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned,
but do not have love, it profits me nothing."</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Those are the
questions I'm asking myself as I soak up each sparkling, temporary moment with
my family this Spring and Summer. I take incredible, unspeakable joy from my
small family and yet, God and I have had our moments alone. He and I know that
He is enough for me. He knows He is the only One who fills my heart with the
best and most Ultimate Joy which never disappoints. Yes. I have felt that
sentiment. It is real. In my darkest moments and in my highest moments.
Sometimes I loose touch with this Truth, but it's always there when I remember and
reach for it again.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">(Oh Jesus, please
don't test me again on this commitment now that I've said this in front of all
these people.)</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Fear or no fear, it needs to be said. He is my first Love. My
heart longs to be with Him. It always has. From the very first moment I learned
of Him. My passion only increases the older I get. Ever heard the words to that
song on the radio?.... "everybody want to go to heaven, nobody wanna go
now."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That's me. I'm longing to go... just not
quite ready yet.</span></div>
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Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-50070311248616266582016-04-16T06:14:00.000-07:002016-10-21T18:07:27.284-07:00Day 16 - 7:30am - Tiptoeing to Spy on the Girls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;">Two little heads, playing, waiting for the timer on the twinkle lights to go off so they can go play with Mommy and Daddy. This has been the common scene for many months. Only difference now is acting out this ritual in the context of RV life!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;">Samantha waits for the Bunny Clock to "wake up," at which point she crawls into Annabelle's bed to play until the twinkle lights go off, signaling permission to bombard Mommy and Daddy with energy.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;">"Twinkle lights aren't off yet, what are you doing in here, Mommy?"</span></div>
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Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-48030676887563611462016-04-15T13:04:00.000-07:002016-04-17T19:26:03.710-07:00RVing with Babies - Practical Solutions <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicwXNHOrAA7nRCctEyGTMwjymddxM6eFD8LReDQkmX3PouSMoImvk3TjWxJRb-y1STNyXXZJJkt0Z78Wa89srgQuiiwujlOgKngK7tekzOMGOwg_tNNFPw7H0vAaBUy46BUBKPqllFYqSX/s1600/Cropped+Drink.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicwXNHOrAA7nRCctEyGTMwjymddxM6eFD8LReDQkmX3PouSMoImvk3TjWxJRb-y1STNyXXZJJkt0Z78Wa89srgQuiiwujlOgKngK7tekzOMGOwg_tNNFPw7H0vAaBUy46BUBKPqllFYqSX/s320/Cropped+Drink.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">It's a rainy day..... an ideal time to write to you, cozy in the RV. We're capitalizing on cozy with twinkle lights. It's incredible how such a simple thing changes everyone's mood. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Last week was sunny, balmy and delicious, which made it hard to finish unpacking and organizing. Rain drove us inside every day this week and I'm happy to announce that today, at 10:34 am, the last basket and bin tucked themselves into place. Every last toy, toothbrush and shoe has a happy home, with room to spare.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Cf0PvkTmuyDhFSbCQ7YqsNGdEi0wL5IF225NAxauFXsk-otlOkzvPX19soN44X0UxUylfR7sTEHBYWjcospcmRlEmDIrtkdiHLYDdcxoqDClL8QSkpG-fKdg6Y_Wll_3IbEcZ5OVqKs1/s1600/P1013680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Cf0PvkTmuyDhFSbCQ7YqsNGdEi0wL5IF225NAxauFXsk-otlOkzvPX19soN44X0UxUylfR7sTEHBYWjcospcmRlEmDIrtkdiHLYDdcxoqDClL8QSkpG-fKdg6Y_Wll_3IbEcZ5OVqKs1/s320/P1013680.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">This has been the shoe system since Day 1. Shoes off as soon as you walk in the door. I tidy it once a day. Usually it looks like the next photo... (tiny pink sneaks and big gray sneaks being wayward most often ;)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">You wipe your feet as you walk through the door and pass the driver's seats. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">I'm going to skip the main living space for now and jump you straight to the rear of the "RV house" to the "girl's bedroom." </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgse7NJWlTRM2BcMOnktbJ1-09y08Sfnb2KgMcH4RO0_XWb8PinfR9xOG0-ivG8Hq1foJTNPtFHB7b84YoQy59IHfdB7Zc5Pi-RLZHHJjwGiDMOjbsyxaYNIk8CfbQZstr__LrNT02Uzrv/s1600/P1013690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgse7NJWlTRM2BcMOnktbJ1-09y08Sfnb2KgMcH4RO0_XWb8PinfR9xOG0-ivG8Hq1foJTNPtFHB7b84YoQy59IHfdB7Zc5Pi-RLZHHJjwGiDMOjbsyxaYNIk8CfbQZstr__LrNT02Uzrv/s320/P1013690.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">I would not have enjoyed RV life 3 years ago as a first time Mom. I wanted to give my baby the "classic" nursery of children's books and magazines. An entire room dedicated to a crib five times bigger than baby, full size dresser, changing table, nursing chair, book shelf..... and..... last but not least, wooden toy box. I knew babies didn't NEED all of this, but I wanted it. At the time, it was my current expression of love for my baby, mixed with my own desire not to miss out on a beloved tradition from modern day, middle class, America and Europe. I will probably put the same amount of elaborate decor into decorating a similar nursery in our next home later this year. But for now, I've done the big nursery thing, and now I'm ok to do the RV thing. I'm finally at a place in my life where I could be ok to live without anything a big house offers if we ever decided to travel on wheels full time. I might feel different four months from now, so ask me then. I will talk, in a later post, about whether I'm ok with no dishwasher or oven.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">As you can see from the photo above, Samantha is equally excited about her RV bunk bed, as she was about her nursery. Samantha's bed arrangement was simple and didn't need any extra effort from us. It's apparent that most people with babies, young enough to roll out of bed, don't typically go RVing. None of the RV's come equipped with an itsy bitsy RV size crib. But if you're 3 or older, the RV designers have got you covered, fish net to catch you if you fall out of your perch. (which Samantha did on Day 3 until we learned to put a mound of blanket between her and the net. However, she never knew any of it. I happened to see her sleeping, cradled in the net, a few inches below her bed as I was responding to Annabelle in the middle of the night. Chris lifted her back into place and all was well.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Annabelle's bed, on the other hand, took weeks of planning and troubleshooting before we arrived at a reasonable solution. She really doesn't care WHERE we put her to sleep, if we will PLEASE just be consistent and put her in the same place every night with the same soft cushion, with the same smell, under her and two familiar stuffed animals within reach.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">We had to return the first bed rail because the hardware would not work with this particular bunk. Our final design included googling what other RVer's have done to solve this, plus our own engineering. The Dex Bed Rail from Amazon or Target is the one with a plate shape that can slide down between the bunk and wall. It wasn't designed with RV bunks in mind, but it works quite well nonetheless. In the end, the adult mattress, turned vertical and wedged across the "room," is a bit unsightly, but overall, this arrangement is cute enough to satisfy me, and practical and out of the way. We were all somewhat irritable dancing around the makeshift solutions of the last two weeks.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Do we need a changing table? Nope! All changing supplies live in this handy basket on the bathroom counter. Folded changing pad tucked behind is a brilliant design I've had in my car since baby number one. It doubles as a diaper bag. Patem brand, given to me by another friend who loves minimalist solutions.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">What about mealtime? I, personally, LOVE the old fashioned wood spindle high chair with tray waiting for Annabelle in storage for our next house. It's so pretty. But I don't see an actual need for it. If she feeds herself, she sits in the sink to do it. If I'm feeding her, or if she's just picking up dry rice puffs, the following arrangement is working well for us.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">It quickly became clear that Samantha was going to have a terrible struggle sitting still to eat, until we provided a booster seat to raise her to a more comfortable height. I was tempted to push on the budget a little bit more to run out and buy a booster seat. But in the end, I decided to use this cardboard box. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">I'm not going to be one of those bloggers who shows you gorgeous diy Pintrest projects. You've got plenty of that at your fingertips. I WILL show you this slap together solution which made both Samantha and I happy. We picked two old towels, we didn't need, and stuffed them inside the box to make it sturdy. We took cut strips of colored paper from my craft bin and taped them to the box, to make it cute, and wrapped the whole thing in clear packing tape. Easy, small, washable, cute. Took 10 minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">(Yes, it's peeling. She's been picking at it. I'll give it a new skin soon and have a chat with her.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Annabelle's toys are all right here, in this one drawer which slides out from under the dinette seat.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Occasionally, when I need Annabelle up off the floor, I strap her into the seat belt on the couch and hand her toys. This spares us the need to have extra bouncy seats or baby saucers taking up space.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">When we are outside, Annabelle is usually in the stroller or playpen.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">She even slept in it one afternoon before I set up the monitor.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Our medicine cabinet was the final bit of organization, complete today. Stacking storage containers are a great solution for limited cabinet space...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Stay tuned for more inside photos, plus, RV life from the male perspective.</span></div>
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-63213039620629895772016-04-09T19:03:00.001-07:002016-04-17T19:26:41.929-07:00For the Men<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #f6b26b;">Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, this post is also for my girlfriends who love grilling and watching sports. Love you gals too.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f6b26b;">In our home, grilling and watching sports is mainly my husband's cup of tea...or strong coffee (as he prefers). </span><br />
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<span style="color: #f6b26b;">Yep. He's grillin' and watchin the Masters. </span>Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-79560809303994750782016-04-09T09:38:00.000-07:002016-04-09T11:33:06.811-07:00A Heart of Tree<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;">I'm fixated by heart shapes in nature (see <a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2016/02/healing-my-heart-this-valentines-day.html" target="_blank">Healing my Heart this Valentine's Day</a>).</span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;">Yesterday we took a break to walk and explore the island. On the way back to our campground, I came across another heart. I'm not the only person with a camera capturing nature hearts. Sometimes these hearts are unbelievably astounding while at other times it's a huge stretch. Have a peek at the 2012 collection by <a href="https://adventure-journal.com/2012/02/25-more-awesome-hearts-found-in-nature/" target="_blank">Adventure Journal</a>. Most of my heart sightings are more of a stretch than awe inspiring. But it's warming my heart to engage in this fun little treasure hunt between me and God and I hope it warms your heart to join me in this charming diversion.</span></div>
<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-40988907398499521902016-04-06T20:03:00.001-07:002016-04-17T19:27:41.236-07:00Day 4 - At Home on the Road - Under the Trees<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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That's right. Just minutes ago, I was on my back, basking in this vision of trees, upside down, in my "living room." </div>
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Seems like vacation, doesn't it. But my responsibilities are the same as they have been for the last 4 years as a Stay at Home Mom. Nothing has changed, other than the location. I'm learning to take these 5 minute, upside down, breaks. At roughly 11:00, every morning, I start to feel like the urgent tasks and demands are becoming a runaway train. And the day is not half over. And I've completely lost steam. And...</div>
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... and that's when I go upside down. Five minutes like this and I'm ok again, ready for another round. I could have been doing this a long time ago, but it's just doesn't inspire me to stare at the ceiling of a typical living room.</div>
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This was yesterday around 11:00... same routine. Re-directing blood flow to my brain. Resting. Letting it all go for a moment. Doctors can explain the health benefits of this pose, but this five minute simple new habit is changing my life. At the end of the day, I feel like I'm living part work, part vacation, and I'm happier all the way around.</div>
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Chris and I knew we had to try this RV lifestyle, but we also knew we might try it and dislike it. It's day 4 and I'm here to tell you we are still in SET UP MODE. We are still shouldering the extra work of unpacking and organizing, on TOP of normal life with babies, and I'm still in love with this new life! If I'm going to have moments of sheer exhaustion and emotional freak out, I'd much rather do it out here under a canopy of trees in 73 degree weather, than in suburbia. </div>
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I know RV life isn't for all of you. RV life is meant for some, but not all, so I hope my posts inspire ALL of you to pursue what makes you happy. I'm talking about deep down, soul healthy, type of happy. Make it realistic and attainable, then pursue it and DO IT. Be patient. My dream of living as a nomad started 7 years ago. (If truth be told, it really started 30 years ago, when I was reading the <i>Boxcar Children</i> series.) So be patient when it seems like your dream will never happen.</div>
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My three year old took this photo yesterday. Usually I praise her up and down for her camera learning skills and then quietly delete, but this one captures a joy that is not staged.</div>
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Images from Day 2, 3 & 4.....</div>
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Installing rain gutter extentions</div>
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(isn't he awesome??? He is a highly successful desk nerd with numbers and he is also an eager and skilled handy-man, tackling outdoor living and a huge diesel beast of a machine!)</div>
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It is GOOD to have a Mommy who likes to do face painting EVERY DAY!</div>
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I know. It looks staged for a Gander Mountain ad. But there was nothing staged here except the part where I told them to re-create the part where they looked at each other adoringly just moments before. </div>
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Samantha's new favorite activity... Mommy and Daddy story telling. (Stay tuned for more details about this in a future post)</div>
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Coming soon: Specific practical solutions for doing RV life with babies...</div>
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Some of you have asked for inside pics. Stay tuned...</div>
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-43747327552881850972016-04-03T14:25:00.000-07:002016-04-03T18:35:43.741-07:00Always Moving - Always at Home - We are now RVing! <span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Have you ever heard the saying, <b><i>"Not all those who wander are lost?"</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">As I write to you today, I am in an RV, traveling down the road with my husband, toddler and infant. This mobile moving vehicle is, for the next four months, our only home. And we planned it this way!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">How did we get here.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Some people are meant to live in one house or one town for a lifetime. There are pleasures that can only be experienced by staying for decades, such as watching one tree start from a sapling and grow for 70 years. Nothing can replace the knowledge and expertise about the culture and rhythms of one location available only in the brain of someone who has lived there 50 years, except maybe someone who has lived there 100 years.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">In 2016, in the United States, I do not often bump into someone who has lived in one location for 70 years or more. When I do meet these people, I am fascinated. Talking for only a few minutes, I find these are deeply interesting people.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Most of my friends, and most of the people I read or hear about, fall into a second category. They move a handful of times during their lifetime. Typically they have one or two childhood homes, another home (or dorm) in a college town, and three more homes throughout the remainder of their life. I have spent my first 37 years of life primarily hanging out with these type of people.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Then there is a third group of people; people I bump into as rarely as the first group; these folks move or travel constantly. I am not fascinated by those who live this lifestyle and hate it and feel trapped by it or do it because they are running from life's problems. I am fascinated by those who have intentionally embraced this lifestyle and are genuinely happy living it. This is the group of people who fascinate me more than anyone. Maybe it's because I want to be like them. Or maybe I feel a unique connection with them because my soul was born to be part of this group.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">I started my life deeply upset by change. From age one to four I lived in a green house with my parents. My sister was born and a year later we moved to a bigger house across town, a pretty white house with black shutters. At first I thought the move was exciting, but within a few days I realized we were never going back to the green house and I went into a state of mourning. For weeks I visited Mom and Dad's upstairs bedroom to gaze out the window longingly at the roof of our old house, which I could see across town. I remember the pain of this distinctly. The confusion. The disillusionment. Mom claims I rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in my child size rocker, searching for comfort. As time went on, I learned to love my new home. We stayed for 13 years. By the time we left that house, I felt ready to go. I was 17, reaching adulthood, ready for new adventure. But the girl in the rocking chair was not gone. I still had a deep desire to find a place my soul most connected with and put down roots and build a home for life. At 24, I sobbed my heart out when my husband's job moved us for the third time in 3 years. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Today I can say we have moved 12 times in 15 years together. It wasn't until a year and a half ago I finally realized I was living the life of a gypsy and I actually like this life. (See <a href="http://deepscent.blogspot.com/2014/10/a-life-on-move-searching-for-home.html" target="_blank">September 2014 post</a>) Instead of feeling trapped in this lifestyle or pushing hard to change it, my heart finally embraced it... or at least part of it. For me, when I'm constantly on the move, setting up and tearing down in big stationary houses is frustrating and feels like a waste of time. Thus, we are headed towards making our nomadic life more efficient.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">We sold our house in Alabama a month ago. A few days later we bought a house in Virginia, where we will live for four years while Chris gets his PHD at Virginia Tech. While embracing the nomadic life, simultaneously we are making changes to build a healthier lifestyle for children, meaning less work related travel separating us and more travel together as a family. We bought an RV and are hitting the road for 4 months! Our dream is to eventually take a year off from work to travel the country. For now we are starting with four months. If we love it as much as we expect, we will hop in our mobile home every summer during school break and explore everything possible. The ironic reality is, by embracing the nomadic lifestyle, we have finally come "home." There is now more potential for a sense of permanent residence in this "home" which moves with us, intact, wherever we go. After years of moves, paring down a little more each time, we have finally pared down (almost) enough for full time RV life. My dream is full time RVing, working on the road. For now it is part time. Somehow, by sheer luck and blessing, I happened to marry a guy who shares these dreams even though we never discussed it before marriage. Our attraction was pretty basic 21 year old priorities.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Chris and I have been living the life of nomads, for 15 years, without aiming to and without knowing what this type of life is all about and how to flourish in it. Career just kept sending us somewhere new. <b><i>It's about time we learned how to make the best of who we are and what we've been given.</i></b> </span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Our intention is to learn over the next few years and beyond. For example, we've all been told humans need community to thrive. What does community look like when you frequently move and travel? What do you do when you love to plant a garden, but you're never home long enough to see the entire process through from planting to harvest? These are questions we will be exploring along the way, over the next few years. Please join me on this journey. Be part of my community. Please? I need you. Read, write, post comments, etc. Give advice if you have experience with this lifestyle.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">I've always been perplexed by that phrase on mugs and bumper stickers, "Not all those who wander are lost." I think I understand now; I am a wanderer and I feel more sense of "belonging" in the last month, with this identity and in my new mobile home, than I ever have in my entire life. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">As a teenager, I confided to my Dad that I felt "lost." I couldn't explain why and he didn't question me or try to fix it. He seemed to understand what I meant even though he didn't have a solution for me. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">I no longer belong to any one city or state, <b style="font-style: italic;">but Dad... I'm no longer lost. </b></span><br />
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-62399698445650279332016-02-12T14:37:00.000-08:002016-10-21T18:08:50.758-07:00Ten Cents for Valentine Magic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">What does a three year old need for Valentine's Day? Love, a warm hug, a smile, and the opportunity to pass love on to someone else, is all this little girl in the picture above needs.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">You can find a hundred cute ideas to make easy magic for a three year old. It could be as simple as a sheet of paper, marked with lines and scribbles, given to Sister or Daddy, but this girl does that in her spare time nearly every day. Gifts are her constant love language, sometimes several times a day. When she doesn't have access to paper and ink, it's anything she can get her hands on; a coffee table coaster, a stuffed animal, a small plastic Disney figure, you name it. If it's in the house, she will find something to wrap it in, even if it's a napkin. Then comes the presentation. With flair and theatrics, she presents her gift, and you'd better be ready to receive it with delight if you don't want heart break and a crestfallen face.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">It takes creativity to make unique magic for a girl who makes magic every single day with common objects. My Mom delivered. A Valentine box arrived in the mail two days ago. In it were goodies for her granddaughter and what was the most magical gift of all? Magic lay in a ten cent creation to pass on to the birds in our yard. My daughter LOVES to spot birds, chase them, sing about them. Giving our birds a Valentine present was sheer genius. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">You can make this bird feeding treat in three minutes with string, Fruit-loops and a wire pipe cleaner, all for about ten cents. (crafting pipe cleaner can be found in the kids craft section at Walmart.) </span></div>
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-56476049184512378692016-02-11T13:49:00.001-08:002016-04-29T15:33:43.554-07:00Healing My Heart this Valentine's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: 18px; text-align: left;">Va</span><span style="text-align: left;">lentine's Day is almost here. Instead of sharing cute ideas for how to celebrate with your husband, wife, boyfri</span></span><span style="color: #ea9999; text-align: left;">end, girlfriend, children or friends, I want to talk about healing. Valentine's Day is often hard for people with broken hearts. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">On October 14, 2014, my Daddy, the first man I ever loved, committed suicide in a car, in the driveway of my parent's property, in Northern Virginia. This Valentine's Day will mark precisely one year and four months since this horrific event.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">I have both grieved this event AND moved on with my life simultaneously since the moment I received this mind bending, heart stopping news. Numbness and frozen shock, along with tears and heartfelt emotion were all present within the first 24 hours. Thus began a partial grief/healing process that would gently carry me through a pregnancy and the first months after her birth. On the surface, the symptoms of my grief were mild compared to the grief symptoms of other family members. I didn't have enough emotional or physical energy for an intense, emotional surgery of the heart. I was scheduled for physical surgery on October 15th, (the next day) to prepare my body for pregnancy. I didn't postpone the surgery, determined the circle of life was not going to be paused because of my father's death.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">In reality, my grief experience did not begin on October 14, 2014. This day was simply the biggest element in a larger story of suffering which began roughly 27 years ago, when I was about 10 years old, as I watched my Daddy's life deteriorate before my eyes; bit, by bit, by bit. I was already accustomed to ignoring this pain to focus on the happy things of life. It was not hard to continue on a larger scale.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">Regardless of when my grief began, it is not yet complete. December 14th, 2015, two months ago, marked a new chapter in my evolution of grief. My body and mind decided it was finally time to give closer attention to this broken portion of my heart. A heart partially numb, partially paralyzed, partially dead. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">My heart is, and was, full of the joy of my husband and children. But I cannot counsel my children during their future griefs if I continue to ignore my own pain. I cannot speak truthfully with friends and family when they seek my perspective on grief if I have not walked my road with honesty.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">My heart is healing and slowly beating again. Will there ever come a time when I can say I am fully healed? Maybe. Maybe not. There are many opinions. For now, I can say I am in love with my Creator. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">This year I've seen more symbols of the heart all around me in nature, more than I ever noticed before. I try to capture it with my camera when I see it...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">The Prince of Peace has loved me unlike anyone could ever love me. He drew heart shapes in creation for me to discover. He GAVE me the breath of life when I stopped breathing and brushed death, mere moments after birth in 1978. He GAVE me the Daddy who rocked me in the hospital intensive care unit, singing the first songs I ever heard. He GAVE me a love for this Dad, later in life when he became harder to love. </span><span style="color: #ea9999;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">He, the Almighty God, GAVE me an incredible husband and two miracle baby girls.</span><span style="color: #ea9999;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">He GAVE me a Mom and sisters who have already dug deep into their own grief education for over a year. These women patiently waited for me to be ready and now have wisdom to offer, gathering around me as I join them on this journey. </span><span style="color: #ea9999;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">The following song and accompanying story, at the end of this post, is fanning the flame of my ever strengthening heartbeat.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">If you have a grief in your life so big that words fail to express your depth of emotion, click the you tube link below and maybe this song will meet you the way it met me. If you do not have grief in your life, certainly you know friends or family who do. Celebrate this Valentine's Day with me in a non traditional way. Let's turn our gaze to the Great Physician, who heals broken hearts, enabling us to love others more deeply, fully, completely.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">Engaging with our grief, in order to heal it, involves both surrender and participation.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;">Tell Your Heart to Beat Again - Danny Gokey</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;"><a href="https://youtu.be/eUHRDCYnFfg" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/eUHRDCYnFfg</a></span></div>
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6587538155985996473.post-23437540415797079472015-12-25T18:48:00.002-08:002016-10-21T18:09:28.482-07:00Christmas Glow<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFt1UkDezSkAlRM6C6tc0jONua9rOSggpjfLjnkbmVNlAc8-1ZOEtcBvu9F0sHW-EQVoYpbb-5n_A7XsyTVAwLwfDwbf2z6fNYCq0DrRNX8Z2z0d6Nb8SaiFE00oSYY0o8ldOFPRsfh4Ee/s1600/DSC_0225.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFt1UkDezSkAlRM6C6tc0jONua9rOSggpjfLjnkbmVNlAc8-1ZOEtcBvu9F0sHW-EQVoYpbb-5n_A7XsyTVAwLwfDwbf2z6fNYCq0DrRNX8Z2z0d6Nb8SaiFE00oSYY0o8ldOFPRsfh4Ee/s320/DSC_0225.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Another little Christmas miracle; I am at the beach, my favorite place in the world, on this Christmas Day. I aim for Christmas perfection every single year, but I don't get Christmas perfection every year. I am very much aware that "Christmas perfection" is a combination of heart warming circumstances and a state of mind, the state of mind being the most crucial element. Therefore, I am especially grateful for the Christmas perfection I felt this year. We have an ENORMOUS set of extended family. No way are we able to gather everyone together most holidays. But a few showed up at our door last night and kicked off one of our best Christmas celebrations ever. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">One of my favorite realities about our family is the flexibility of our Christmas traditions. We have many traditions we draw upon depending what seems practical for the current year. Each year there are themes similar to previous years and themes brand new. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">This is our first Christmas at the beach. After gifts were given and opened with love and thoughtfulness, same as every year, many rushed to change out of pajamas into beach clothes to bike down to the water's edge and jump, splash, build and toss sand, while others burned energy on the beach basketball court.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">I love the beach because it's the one place in the world where everyone understands how to live in the moment. No one expects a sand castle to last more than a few minutes or a few hours at best. Yet we throw all of our passion and joy into this effort as though we are sculpting the next Michelangelo. We don't grasp, stress or cling to this fleeting moment, knowing full well a similar moment might come again, but never with the exact same feeling. We enjoy and release it without question.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Christmas Day, on the other hand, is a holiday scarred with expectations unmet for many people. I have shed my share of tears on Christmas Day for one reason or another. Some of us give up and grow callus, loosing our childlike wonder. Some of us spin our wheels harder, trying to force it, only making it worse. I chose to simply try again every year with varying levels of success and failure, attempting, every year, to accept what IS. Striving and releasing. Striving and releasing.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">Will we all get it right one day? Will there ever come a time when the afterglow of Christmas perfection lasts forever? Is it even possible, in this broken world, to live, all year long, in the true Spirit of the biggest Christmas miracle which took place two thousand years ago? </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgenczlEYIfiPMFy85L28eKSqBT32JJXTxAinfWKj5JZtZ8YCbwhyphenhyphenwxZ5lNpe7q0baVq9tDeZBsZtSUQxMgJxLgCKVEe_jNZ9XwwgHK2fTDRRQwMQTrna25rsfHUODRF5k5fpWDDWB6dmPt/s1600/P1013053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgenczlEYIfiPMFy85L28eKSqBT32JJXTxAinfWKj5JZtZ8YCbwhyphenhyphenwxZ5lNpe7q0baVq9tDeZBsZtSUQxMgJxLgCKVEe_jNZ9XwwgHK2fTDRRQwMQTrna25rsfHUODRF5k5fpWDDWB6dmPt/s320/P1013053.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">I don't know. If it's possible, I haven't succeeded yet. I haven't made it all year long constant in the Spirit. But I won't stop trying. All of the heartache is worth it for these moments and the Promise that one day God will wipe away every tear from my eyes. Death, grief and pain will cease. In the meantime, let's cherish these moments that Glow. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;">2015 is nearly finished. I send love to you, from my home to yours, and Merry Christmas. To all a goodnight. Lets wake up, drink coffee, or your preferred start up drink, open your door, breathe fresh air, and carry this glow into December 26th.</span></div>
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Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02091322051443694699noreply@blogger.com0