<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:31:38.727-08:00</updated><category term='Me'/><category term='Smell'/><category term='miss...'/><category term='Good Friday'/><category term='Brother'/><category term='sad'/><category term='Denied'/><category term='Anger'/><category term='Grief'/><category term='summer vacation'/><category term='hurt'/><category term='Small informational tool.'/><category term='beach'/><category term='Starlet'/><category term='bullies'/><category term='DIL'/><category term='Social Security'/><category term='son'/><category term='Mountaintop'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='Cologne'/><category term='Heart attack'/><category term='Loss'/><category term='Farr'/><category term='Vera Wang'/><category term='Memorial Day'/><category term='Life'/><category term='summer'/><category term='spine issues'/><category term='tears'/><category term='family'/><category term='Peace'/><category term='Bladder disease'/><category term='Jesus'/><category term='Death'/><category term='urinary'/><category term='School'/><title type='text'>Carol's Hollyrock World</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-2825834173384628254</id><published>2010-02-22T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T11:39:58.072-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heart attack'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>"I'm back</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Hi everybody! I'm finally back and ready to write. First, it's only fair to explain where I've been.  Last August, I had a heart attack, this completely threw me for a loop. All I know is I had trouble breathing and my arms and stomach hurt. This scared the HELL out of me. It's been a  little over 6 months and although physically I am not 100%, mentally I'm starting to feel like me again.  This scared me so much I didn't feel normal. I still worry it will happen again (Please God, NO!) but I'm not as consumed as I was with those thoughts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I've had time to do a lot of soul-searching, shed a bucket of tears and stared at my youngest trying to engrave his image in my brain. I worried for him and still do. I lost my mother at 15 years of age. I want to raise him, see him get married and meet the man he is  going to become. So far, he is a wonderful young man. It was some of  my darkest days I could think of him or see him and it would pull me out of that place.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;I have thought of everything I ever did wrong to anyone and asked God to forgive me. None of us are perfect and I had many flaws to consider. I have prayed with every step I take that God spares me for a long time yet. I'm not done with my life. There is so many things I want to see and do. Things in my life that need mending. Apologies that need to be said, phone calls I have put off,  friendships I have to fix,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Of all that came from this crisis in my life, my husband and Kyle were so strong and let me lean on  them. They held me when I cried, they were at John's Hopkins hospital every day the 7 days I was there, they saw and still see to it I  have everything I need. They are very loving and make me treasure the family I have left. Eric is very comforting when he comes to visit me. David and Kara have been wonderful to me as well. There is nothing more important than your family and nothing greater than to have your family by your side when you are scared and sick. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;I realized during the first couple of months hearing my friends and family tell me they loved me were the sweetest words one can ever hear when scared. I have also realized that for whatever mistakes one makes in life,  there is nothing that cannot be resolved, they just take time. Patience is really a virtue. It takes a lot to feel normal after a heath crisis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Thank you my dear sweet family for all you've done for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-2825834173384628254?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/2825834173384628254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-back.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/2825834173384628254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/2825834173384628254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-back.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m back'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-1033932480294158745</id><published>2009-07-14T06:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T07:25:09.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I want to take the time to catch up on what's been happening here in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hollyrock&lt;/span&gt;. I took time off due to health issues but I am feeling better now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;*Kyle returned home from his vacation, he had a great time. He went swimming in the ocean, played miniature golf, shopped for shark teeth. The boy loves shark teeth. He found some along the beach line. He was happy to get home. I think he missed us more than he expected to. He came home tanned, healthy and happy. We missed him so much too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;* So far, it's been a quiet summer. We have had long, lazy days since Kyle came home and terrific weather here.We had a wonderful Father's Day with some of the boys here and my in-laws. My father-in-law looks great and I think he really enjoyed himself while he was here. My mother-in-law was sporting a new Vera Bradley bag (who knew) that was gorgeous. I loved the print! I've bought three so far but I really favor the Black Microfiber.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;* Certainly lost quite a bit of icons in June. Losing Farrah was expected but still wish she had been able to fight it. I'm sure her poor body was tired. At least now her suffering is over and she lived a pretty magical life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Michael Jackson was the huge shocker! Not to dismiss his family's grief, I know the feeling of a loss of a brother and I'm sure his parents are reeling as well. But...knowing it was his own negligence makes it worse. The man was a great entertainer but the media hype is just over-board.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;*Fourth of July was a good day. My husband and Kyle celebrated more than I did. I wasn't feeling too great. I found out in June that I have moved into the fourth stage out of five with kidney failure. So, now the search for a kidney begins in order to alleviate dialysis. I am hoping in August to be on the list for one. I am on a medicine that hopefully will raise my kidney functions some.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Well...that about wraps it up for summer here. School will be right around the corner. I hope everyone is having a wonderful summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Carol &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cusick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-1033932480294158745?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/1033932480294158745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/07/catching-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/1033932480294158745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/1033932480294158745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/07/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up...'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-6347765489486419496</id><published>2009-06-26T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T07:46:03.624-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Farr'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Starlet'/><title type='text'>Farrah Fawcett - 1947-2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SkTHUqjjjoI/AAAAAAAAAD0/sA3bWuqQ5NA/s1600-h/capt_b2a0405450704e4189a34b87d71df144_obit_fawcett_nyet509.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351621415057723010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 271px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 344px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SkTHUqjjjoI/AAAAAAAAAD0/sA3bWuqQ5NA/s400/capt_b2a0405450704e4189a34b87d71df144_obit_fawcett_nyet509.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                  "An angel left us - to be with our heavenly angels above..."&lt;br /&gt;                                                                             -Carol &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cusick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-6347765489486419496?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6347765489486419496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/06/farrah-fawcett-1947-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6347765489486419496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6347765489486419496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/06/farrah-fawcett-1947-2009.html' title='Farrah Fawcett - 1947-2009'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SkTHUqjjjoI/AAAAAAAAAD0/sA3bWuqQ5NA/s72-c/capt_b2a0405450704e4189a34b87d71df144_obit_fawcett_nyet509.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-4825413736132247975</id><published>2009-06-17T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T11:58:26.352-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beach'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>My Son's Summer Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sjk5FuYKctI/AAAAAAAAADs/IMa9C63XtZA/s1600-h/Beach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348368802990682834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 111px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 145px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sjk5FuYKctI/AAAAAAAAADs/IMa9C63XtZA/s400/Beach.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;My son left for his summer vacation last Saturday. It has been a lonely, long week. I didn't realize how much I'd miss his company. My husband is feeling it too. He's our baby, the apple of my eye and being a 'tween' - he is growing up to fast for me. I want to hold him back but I know I can't. I wouldn't. I wouldn't deprive him of the happiness he is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;experiencing&lt;/span&gt; with his father's family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;He's having a wonderful time with his paternal Grandparents, Aunts &amp;amp; Uncles and their children. He calls everyday (just about) but I can tell he's loving life. He's staying in a big beach house that has an elevator. He didn't trust it at first but now he loves getting in it. He's lazing it up in a hammock, a hot tub and going to the beach. He loves sharks teeth and told me last night he has a couple more now. I know he's having a blast and it's good for him but missing him is awful. I can't wait to see his tan, smiling face this Saturday when he gets back!! I know he will seem taller, the other boys always did if they went away for a short time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;Today is 'hump day' so the worst is over, now I have just a few more days to look forward to his homecoming. I have always kept my children close when they are young so letting him go off with others is hard for me. I just know that this Saturday he will be hugged and kissed till he screams "STOP IT, MOM!" LOL!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;I wonder - does the day ever come when you don't miss your children so much?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;Carol &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cusick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-4825413736132247975?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4825413736132247975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-sons-summer-vacation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/4825413736132247975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/4825413736132247975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-sons-summer-vacation.html' title='My Son&apos;s Summer Vacation'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sjk5FuYKctI/AAAAAAAAADs/IMa9C63XtZA/s72-c/Beach.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-2345369148563666057</id><published>2009-06-06T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T07:49:55.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Congratulations Class of 2009!!!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344224882405707186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 117px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SiqANzOYjbI/AAAAAAAAADU/23cddCfFSLI/s400/Apple.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SiqBE5EPAkI/AAAAAAAAADk/B7ngdZaN_rg/s1600-h/75c8b07c93cbf91c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344225828866556482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 111px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SiqBE5EPAkI/AAAAAAAAADk/B7ngdZaN_rg/s400/75c8b07c93cbf91c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;                         "CLASS OF 2009"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SiqAxuV8dVI/AAAAAAAAADc/ZlMYCd647tY/s1600-h/df53716b464be498.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344225499570533714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SiqAxuV8dVI/AAAAAAAAADc/ZlMYCd647tY/s400/df53716b464be498.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; All successful people men and women are big dreamers. They imagine what their future could be, ideal in every respect, and then they work every day toward their distant vision, that goal or purpose....Brian Tracy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-2345369148563666057?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/2345369148563666057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/06/congratulations-class-of-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/2345369148563666057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/2345369148563666057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/06/congratulations-class-of-2009.html' title='&quot;Congratulations Class of 2009!!!&quot;'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SiqANzOYjbI/AAAAAAAAADU/23cddCfFSLI/s72-c/Apple.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-1985465247074839013</id><published>2009-06-05T05:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T06:03:37.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SikUFDA3fxI/AAAAAAAAADM/UcbLLWyz3SE/s1600-h/summerfun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343824509792648978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SikUFDA3fxI/AAAAAAAAADM/UcbLLWyz3SE/s400/summerfun.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                To see the Summer Sky Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie … True Poems flee” ~Emily Dickinson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a smell in the air, it's summer again! I love it!! The air smells of fresh cut grass, trees are full with new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;foliage&lt;/span&gt; as new flowers bloom in the garden. The sky is so blue with white, fluffy clouds and the sun beams down with gentle heat. Many live for this time of year. It's like a 'new beginning' for everyone. Nothing seems unobtainable, the sky is the limit! Fresh-faced graduates are facing a new phase of their lives. Little ones are leaving school for their yearly vacations. Everyone is happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just the music from birds warbling brings back memories that were securely tucked away in our brains. Mine would have to be "My First Kiss". I was 13, Rodney was too. It was softball season and I had moved from the street I grew up on. I only moved six blocks away. One clear, summer night I was in my old neighborhood and it was time to go home. Rod offered to walk me halfway. As we walked, he was dressesd in  his baseball uniform, I was in shorts and a T-shirt. We talked about the fun we had that day.&lt;br /&gt;He gently hugged me with laughter and before I knew it, he was kissing me! Every hormonal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;circuit&lt;/span&gt; in me shot to high voltage. It was so innocent, so unexpected but yet so sweet....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-1985465247074839013?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/1985465247074839013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/06/summer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/1985465247074839013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/1985465247074839013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/06/summer.html' title='Summer'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SikUFDA3fxI/AAAAAAAAADM/UcbLLWyz3SE/s72-c/summerfun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-4847816812041387239</id><published>2009-05-26T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T00:36:25.487-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memorial Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loss'/><title type='text'>Memorial Day Thoughts...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;This past weekend like every year was a holiday. One in which pools, beaches &amp;amp; summer water parks open. Interestingly, it kicks off summer activities. Being outdoors again, summer BBQ, family &amp;amp; friends get together. Stores go wild with super sales for this holiday. Granted our economy needs the boost every &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;chance&lt;/span&gt; it gets... But for me, it's not a weekend that I find I celebrate. It is a day granted by our government for remembering the young men and women who for years have fought for our freedom in war and gave their lives. For me this is not a 'happy thought'. I find the fact that my  Uncle Nick (never had the chance to meet) who was shot down in his fighter plane during &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;WW ll&lt;/span&gt; and lost his life not something I can celebrate about. I lost the chance to meet a very nice man. He gave his life at such a young age, never married, had children or came home to his family ever again.  I had a very large Italian family growing up on my mother's side. Many aunts, uncles &amp;amp; scores of cousins.  Every Sunday was a family get-together. He missed that too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Every day on the news I am reminded of those that are losing their lives in Iraq. I hate it. I want our men &amp;amp; women to come home. I think enough is enough. And I think that if anyone can put the word 'Happy' before Memorial Day is not thinking about what this day is really meant for. I see no happiness in losing loved ones. I know people get anxious for summer to arrive but I wish the government would use the day in June when summer begins to be a holiday and change our country's outlook on Memorial Day. This year summer officially begins on June 21st. at 11:45A (EDT). That Sunday is also 'Father's Day'. Why not give 'Dads' that Monday off instead, the hard-working ones would welcome it. Even an extra day off from work for 'Moms' isn't a bad idea either. I just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; that this weekend I spent my time reflecting on lost loved ones and thoughts of the many new widows and children who have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;suffered&lt;/span&gt; the loss of a parent due to the war we are fighting right now. Our U.S.government needs to wake-up! This is NOT a holiday one should be celebrating. It's very disrespectful...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Carol &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cusick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-4847816812041387239?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4847816812041387239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/memorial-day-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/4847816812041387239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/4847816812041387239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/memorial-day-thoughts.html' title='Memorial Day Thoughts...'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-4911888025700215855</id><published>2009-05-25T04:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T04:49:44.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MemorialDay</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/ShqE1tYflOI/AAAAAAAAADE/FsDS0pyyGBk/s1600-h/Soldierflag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339726366451406050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/ShqE1tYflOI/AAAAAAAAADE/FsDS0pyyGBk/s400/Soldierflag.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;                                                    "You are gone, but on this day;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;                                                               Remembered"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;                                                                                        -Carol Cusick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-4911888025700215855?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4911888025700215855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/memorialday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/4911888025700215855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/4911888025700215855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/memorialday.html' title='MemorialDay'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/ShqE1tYflOI/AAAAAAAAADE/FsDS0pyyGBk/s72-c/Soldierflag.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-1878101626270156279</id><published>2009-05-20T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T00:18:04.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"What is Normal?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yesterday, I was talking to my friend who is a bit older than me. She is always at me about the fact that I don't go out much. I don't understand why people who find out that you like being home have issue with that. I enjoy my home and being in it. Gone are the days of chasing after small kids, taking them to school, picking them up, grocery shopping, running errands, working two jobs and caring for an elderly Aunt &amp;amp; Uncle. Also, trying to maintain friendships, deal with single motherhood, a nasty ex-husband and still date. I was always on the go when I was younger. Frankly, I am happy with my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;There are times I miss from my younger years but my health prevents me from doing certain things. I have grown accustomed to being limited to some degree but I don't think I am abnormal because I like to be home. I no longer live close to any of my long-time friends and their lives are busy. I am no longer in the working world but I find I really do not miss it. I am so tired of people questioning me about being home so much and  trying to turn me into a head-case with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Agoraphobia&lt;/span&gt;. I &lt;strong&gt;Do Not have that illness!!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I go out when I want to. I am not afraid to go out. I have a very caring, sweet man for a husband who has a great sense of humor and is very loving. He would never prevent me from doing something I wanted to do. He has always advocated any endeavor I took on. My  son, Kyle is great company after school but I make sure he has his alone time too. After school we talk a little, he gets a snack, does homework and then proceeds to finish his day as he sees fit. Seems normal to me.  I spend my day as I see fit. I think if the men in the white suits had to be called to get me to go to the doctor's office or the store, out to dinner..."&lt;strong&gt;Then Houston, we have a problem&lt;/strong&gt;!"  But, right now, I am content to stay home, end of story... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-1878101626270156279?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/1878101626270156279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-is-normal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/1878101626270156279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/1878101626270156279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-is-normal.html' title='&quot;What is Normal?&quot;'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-416072157831550210</id><published>2009-05-19T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T20:48:28.712-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tears'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DIL'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>"The In-Law Taboo"</title><content type='html'>I've been up all night trying to figure out why there is this thing I call "The In-law Taboo"?&lt;br /&gt;Often I've thought about writing a book about it. It's like an automatic response that you are not supposed to like your In-laws. I've heard of people who have wonderful relationships with their in-laws, but my life doesn't work that way no matter how hard I try. I'm not talking about my husband's parents, although that has been bumpy at times, I have survived it. I'm relaying how awful it feels that my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;DIL&lt;/span&gt; dislikes me! I have never done a thing to her. He's changed completely toward me. I don't even know him anymore. This has gone on for 3 years out of 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe it or not this started over a Christmas Ham that I was late bringing to their house 3 years ago. Since then she has held a grudge against me and turned him on me as well. We didn't speak for over a year, then I begged him to be back in my life in Feb. and we are on speaking terms. For awhile it seemed to be straight.  But...he very rarely comes here without her, he rides past my house at least 4 times a day as his business is on the other end of my street but he won't stop to see me. He never calls, he has told me not to call him,  I am to email him.  Before &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;DIL&lt;/span&gt;, we were close and I couldn't have asked for a better person that I could call 'my son'.  Now, it's gone. It's like in his eyes, I don't exist. I have fought with myself over why he allowed this to happen. I have done everything possible to repair my relationship with him and her but it just gets worse. I feel like he now just plain avoids me. I knew that once he married, they become one and he cleaves to her but no place in the bible says he should ignore his parents. I have kept my mouth shut (not easy for me) on numerous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;occasions&lt;/span&gt; and basically been told if I do see him, it's on his terms. Well...I don't even see him! I saw him the weekend before Mother's Day. Every holiday they are busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask myself should I just blow him off as well or what do I do? His wife speaks to me only if she has to and it seems very icy and cold through gritted teeth. I wish with all my heart she would just say what it is I did to really make her hate me. If I only knew...I would do whatever it would take to regain the friendship we once had. I never knew I could shed so many tears and be so hurt by something such as this. Usually, I can just move on but I can't get past it. Is it true? Is there In-law Taboo? Any comments left would be appreciated. There is way more to this but being disabled, it's too hard to go into all of it. I just know I am getting more and more depressed by it. I feel like an alien at times...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-416072157831550210?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/416072157831550210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/in-law-taboo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/416072157831550210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/416072157831550210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/in-law-taboo.html' title='&quot;The In-Law Taboo&quot;'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-2600764393943077589</id><published>2009-05-15T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T07:56:21.703-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bullies'/><title type='text'>"Getting Pantsed!!!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#660000;"&gt;Yesterday, my son came home from middle school rather irritated. He told me that during recess (he's in sixth grade) they were called in early and the teachers were very emphatic they get in the building immediately. My poor son didn't know what to think or what could possibly be happening. I think it scared him. Although, he said he wasn't a part of it. He said that he saw around 16 other students coming out of the woods as he was going back in. Once he was back in class - an administrator told the class what had happened. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#660000;"&gt;Apparently, a group of kids were in the woods practicing the "Art of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pantsing&lt;/span&gt;" which at first I knew what he meant but wanted to hear what he thought it was. If I recall "getting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pantsed&lt;/span&gt;" in my school days was when the rotten kids picked on a weakly, disliked child and made him drop trow in the woods in front of 5 - 10 kids. I called the school this morning because last night Kyle kept asking not to go to school today and again this morning asked his father right before the bus came again to let him stay home, He told his dad he would "be glad when the day was over".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:#660000;"&gt;After speaking to his Guidance Counselor this morning it was brought to my attention that if his class was spoken to - then that meant kids in his class were in on it. So...my suspicions were right. Kyle must have been secretly worried it just might happen to him. Kyle is a good kid and although not some weakly little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;scaredy&lt;/span&gt;-cat, just like any other kid DOESN'T WANT HIS PANTS FORCED OFF OF HIM!!! This just appalls me to no end!!! I have done my best to warn him of the everything I could think of that can happen in school that is bad - this slipped my mind!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:#660000;"&gt;After years of and decades of kids and their bullying and horrible, embarrassing pranks and threats. You would think that parents our age would teach their children that this is wrong!! So very wrong, no matter what type it is!! I have always taught mine not to pick on others. It is not funny nor is it any less humiliating then being called names and picked on. I guess forever lives on the bullies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:#660000;"&gt;I feel so sorry for kids that have to deal with this. I understand about life's lessons but why does the price paid have to be some child/children hurting another...(sigh) "I'll be glad when today is over and he's back home again". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-2600764393943077589?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/2600764393943077589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/getting-pants-ed.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/2600764393943077589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/2600764393943077589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/getting-pants-ed.html' title='&quot;Getting Pantsed!!!&quot;'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-6073065871174567682</id><published>2009-05-10T01:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T01:20:22.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Dear Sons',</title><content type='html'>today is Mother''s Day". I feel so proud that you are all my sons. The day each of you were born was a momentous, defining day in my life. It's a day a mother never forgets. You were all beautiful babies with bright eyes and heads full of soft, sweet smelling hair. The way I felt holding you for the first time is indescribable. I just knew how much you needed me and I savored it. I watched you grow, saw every first step, heard every first word.I wiped away tears threefold through the years. All of you grew at your own pace in your own time. When one seemed to be growing faster, I'd turn around and find that the other was catching up. You were always in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sync&lt;/span&gt; despite the age differences. Then, I was given two more special boys to call "Son". Another defining day in my life, only they were still adolescent so I didn't ever see them as babies but I was given the chance to meld them into what is now our family. Yes, it hasn't been all puff and glory but what family doesn't have troubling times? I've watched four of you grow into strong young men.&lt;br /&gt;Now that four of you are grown and gone and Kyle is still growing-up, I can see a little bit of each of you in him. Kyle has Branden's silly, sweet smile, Eric's almond-shaped eyes and protective way, Kristopher's impulsiveness, and David's loving but quiet way. I want to thank all of you because if I didn't have you guys, then I wouldn't be a mom and today would just be another Sunday for me. All of you hold my heart in your hands and I can't think of a safer place I'd want my heart to be.&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-6073065871174567682?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6073065871174567682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/dear-sons.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6073065871174567682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6073065871174567682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/dear-sons.html' title='&quot;Dear Sons&apos;,'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-6199390761078988994</id><published>2009-05-02T02:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T03:45:33.322-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loss'/><title type='text'>Dear Bobby...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Dear Bobby,                                                                  May 1, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;     I have been waiting for a long time to write you a letter. Every time I have tried, the words just failed me. It was as if I couldn't put on paper how I felt because I think that by trying to, all the pain would come back. I'm finding out right now, it does. To write makes me &lt;strong&gt;have&lt;/strong&gt; to believe it. I have done a lot of thinking about your death since it happened. I don't hesitate to say, I miss you more and more with each passing day. I never thought a person could grieve for so many years, but I know now as I write through tears falling, a person can. A sister can. I still feel like a lost child left to aimlessly wander to pick up the pieces of life and go on. Sure, everyone thinks it's so easy to just go on. It's not! A day doesn't pass by that I don't think  of you or see something that reminds me of you. I have a hole in my heart, you used to fill that hole. My heart breaks when I relive the days prior to your passing. It's like a movie that just repeats and repeats in my mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes, I have gone on with my life, I had to...But, you were there with every step I took. Bobby, you will always be right there. I couldn't, didn't want to leave that Spring day in April from the cemetery and I think when we drove away a part of me stayed. I was worried you would be cold. I still had so much to tell you and I felt cheated. I have asked myself so many times "Why didn't you call me that night?" If you had called, I would have told you what was wrong. I can't count the times you called me because you wanted me to interpret your blood tests or you were sick and coughing and so certain that you were going to die from a damn cough! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;My crazy brother, my sometime friend, my constant late-niter phone buddy, my big brother (every girl should have one) 'Mad Bob', 'Duke of Earl'. A husband, father and who now would be a doting grandfather that I know would be spoiling those babies. I started this letter tonight because earlier I was thinking about the current state of our world we live in, an economy that has cost people their savings, homes lost and worst of all jobs. Also, how we are all having to worry about a new flu called H1N1, the advances in technology with cell phones and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ipods&lt;/span&gt; not even as big as a pack of cigarettes. The Internet, that is a computer based way for people to communicate with strangers all over the world through places like '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;', 'My Space' and 'Yahoo Instant Messaging. 'Twitter' is all the rave right now. Everyone wants to "Tweet!" It's the new way to communicate. The Internet has ways of all types to find all the information you can think of about anything and everything. You can even find people you lost touch with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;You would have been so fascinated by it all. You loved it whenever something new that was electronic came out! I can hear you in my head talking about it. I remember when VCR was introduced and you called me to tell me you were going to open a video store! You were so excited!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Earlier, I was thinking of all you have missed out on, but as I poured my coffee to sit down and start to write you, it dawned on me...You missed seeing your children grow-up, grand babies born and most of all not growing older with your wife and me. You never met my second husband and our 12 year old baby we have-but aside from that-I think I'm happy that you are safe with Our Lord and do not have to live all the other atrocities that I see on the news every day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;So...my big brother, you keep on resting and give Mom &amp;amp; Dad a hug and kiss from their baby girl. One day I know I will see you again. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Warm hugs always,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Carol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;P.S. Hey, I'm not crying anymore....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you read this, please remember to just click on the ads at the bottom. This is the only way I have to earn money toward my kidney transplant.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thanks so much.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-6199390761078988994?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6199390761078988994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/dear-bobby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6199390761078988994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6199390761078988994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/05/dear-bobby.html' title='Dear Bobby...'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-6569530327041460783</id><published>2009-04-30T04:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T05:12:21.123-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><title type='text'>10 Random Things About Me....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;1. I get tired of things and people very easily if I am bored.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;2. I get bored easily ( see above).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;3. I absolutely hate phony people, keep it real or keep it to yourself!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;4. I'm a jewelryaholic, but there is no 12 step program for that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;5. I love it when a physician is wrong! HEE-HEE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;6. I hate it when a physician is right! BOOOOOO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;7. My motto toward life is: "If you deceive me then leave me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;8. My Life is for my sons, my husband and then me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;9. I live my life one day at a time and accept what it throws at me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;10. Most of all, Swine-flu is really pissing me off!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-6569530327041460783?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6569530327041460783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/10-random-things-about-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6569530327041460783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6569530327041460783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/10-random-things-about-me.html' title='10 Random Things About Me....'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-7930046496665414696</id><published>2009-04-28T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T07:52:21.732-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='urinary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spine issues'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bladder disease'/><title type='text'>Neurogenic Bladder/Interstitial Cystits</title><content type='html'>I live every day with a Nerve-damaged Urinary Bladder and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;IC&lt;/span&gt;. When I was diagnosed, I was shocked!&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;In all the years I worked in the medical field, I had never met a patient young or old that was ambulatory with this condition. Of course, I had encountered it with patients that were paralyzed but never any that could move around and walk. When I was diagnosed 7 years ago, there was very little information on the Internet  about both of these conditions. It was hard for me to wrap my brain around having to catheterize myself daily. Generally, I am a fast learner but this was very hard for me to accept, much less do. It took me months to get it right as well as to this day there are factors involved that will still make it hard for me to perform the act. I  have put Foley's in others while working and knew the procedure quite well. But, for myself it was difficult, actually a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the time this happened to me, I developed Interstitial Cystitis. Another disease I had never even heard of! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;IC&lt;/span&gt; was also at that time just becoming listed as a disease but scientifically not well-accepted as a diagnosis because there was so little information about it. Here is a link to give you information if you find you are suffering chronically with repeated  Urinary Tract issues:&lt;br /&gt;kidney.niddk.nih.gov/kudiseases/pubs/interstitialcystitis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So, here I was dealing with trips to the bathroom 60+ times a day, screaming in agony due to constant bladder spasms, I swear, I felt like I was in Hell itself! I never had even one Urinary Tract Infection (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;UTI&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;This all started on a sunny Sunday morning when I was out for breakfast with my son &amp;amp; husband in May. First, there was intense internal itching and pressure to urinate. I had to go home and didn't have a clue to what was wrong with me For two months, my physician, the E.R., and a urologist just kept telling me it was another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;UTI&lt;/span&gt;. Finally, my gynecologist scheduled me for a CT and it showed my bladder was huge!&lt;br /&gt;Immediately, she insisted I go to the hospital to be catheterized. A night in my life, I will never forget. They removed 1300&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;cc's&lt;/span&gt; of old urine off of my bladder. I had more pain for 12+ hours than when I gave birth to my children. Well...the reason you have not seen any blogs this past three days  was due to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;IC&lt;/span&gt; kicking back in and I have been dealing with a lot of pain. Sometimes it will be mild and I can deal with it, often it can be unbearable. If you are a woman over 40 with Diabetes, Spinal Disease in any form and have a lot of urinary issues that can't be explained. I would make a visit to a gynecologist and tell him/her  your symptoms. I had both of these diseases and did not know it. Early education would have prevented the pain I went through. My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Neurogenic&lt;/span&gt; bladder is a result of being Diabetic with Spinal Disease.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-7930046496665414696?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/7930046496665414696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/neurogenic-bladderinterstitial-cystits.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/7930046496665414696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/7930046496665414696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/neurogenic-bladderinterstitial-cystits.html' title='Neurogenic Bladder/Interstitial Cystits'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-3304112360901703224</id><published>2009-04-24T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T08:14:30.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendships We Take For Granted...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;I have a very close friend that I have known 35 years. I love her like a sister. Our friendship always sustained me. She was the Extrovert, I was the Introvert. But, we let our friendship fall apart 2 and 1/2 years ago due to personal reasons. I have thought of her often, missed her terribly, cried over her on many occasions.  This morning I was worried because she lives in Horry County, S.C. where the wildfires are. My mind was thinking the worst. What if she lost her new home? What if something happened to her or her family? I couldn't stand to think that our last words were in anger and not respectful to each other. I had worried myself to death! So...this morning I called her mother there to see if they were alright. She's fine as well as my friend is. The fires were 30 miles away from them. I asked for her phone number and her mother gave it to me. I called her and as I was leaving a message, she beeped into me, then while trying to answer her calls, I started to hit the wrong buttons on the phone to talk. Finally, I stopped and it rang again and it was her. I was so overcome with emotion that I could hardly speak. Just hearing her voice made me cry with relief. We talked briefly and she is supposed to call me back. I have been trying to regain composure since. I can't turn the tears off. Even now as I write they are flowing down my face and my stomach is in knots. I want to see her, catch-up, laugh with her and most of all apologize for being such an ass!! I believe it's true that you don't know what you have in life until you lose it. We have a habit of taking what life gives us and just taking it for granted. This includes the people we meet in life and become friends with, not realizing that circumstances can bring about change that ends the friendship. I hope our friendship will mend, I want to work at it. But for now, I just hope she calls me back...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-3304112360901703224?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/3304112360901703224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/friendships-we-take-for-granted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/3304112360901703224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/3304112360901703224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/friendships-we-take-for-granted.html' title='Friendships We Take For Granted...'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-6176180539802775173</id><published>2009-04-22T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T09:33:09.566-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='miss...'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>In Memory of Robert E. Farthing 12/06/1957 - 04/22/1991</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Se9FfAq0asI/AAAAAAAAACc/p9523RaW0_c/s1600-h/Bobbysfamily.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327553283260443330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Se9FfAq0asI/AAAAAAAAACc/p9523RaW0_c/s400/Bobbysfamily.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sweet is the voice of a sister in the season of sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;~Benjamin Disraeli&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-6176180539802775173?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6176180539802775173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-memory-of-robert-e-farthing-12061957.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6176180539802775173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6176180539802775173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-memory-of-robert-e-farthing-12061957.html' title='In Memory of Robert E. Farthing 12/06/1957 - 04/22/1991'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Se9FfAq0asI/AAAAAAAAACc/p9523RaW0_c/s72-c/Bobbysfamily.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-8349977533331732702</id><published>2009-04-21T05:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T06:08:14.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Domestic Abuse and Stalking!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000099;"&gt;This is a subject that is very much a part of my life. Not many know that I still belong to some Stalking websites and try to help women get out of the cycle of it. I was an abused, stalked victim for 7 years. I fought my way out with every inch of my being. I did everything to get away from this man. Several times he tried to kill me in various ways and every time I would have him charged, go to hearings, get a peace/restraining order against him,  but it's just a piece of paper that will not stop an obsessed person! The laws need to be changed and the punishment harsher!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000099;"&gt;For this reason, I keep all of my profiles picture-less or private. I even changed my name!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000099;"&gt;This happened to me after my first marriage. I met this man who was well-dressed, very charming and loving to me and my children for 3 months. Then, the other shoe dropped and he started running around on me, hitting me, following me. You name it he did it! I don't care where I was, he would show-up and beg me to take him back. The more I refused, the worse the stalking and abuse became. I can't go into graphic details for obvious reasons. I keep tabs thanks to the Internet as to his whereabouts but I have no guarantee that he doesn't know where I am. I worry he will find me, but so far I don't think he knows and I pray to God he never resurfaces.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;My sons are grown now and my husband also would do what they had to in order to protect me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;My stalking case was the worst in the state where I lived when it was happening. I am getting ready to contact our local schools about public speaking to young girls and college women about this. There are ways to get out of the situation before you end up losing your life. I am always willing to talk to anyone in an abusive marriage or relationship and give them the references that will save them. If you are reading this and want help, feel free to email me or leave a comment here with a way for me to contact you. I will not publish your comment so nobody will know that I am helping you. Just remember these things: It's very true that if a man hits a woman once, HE WILL DO IT AGAIN &amp;amp; AGAIN!!!!  Also, DO NOT TRUST YOUR FRIENDS! You would be amazed at how fast they will sell you out and tell him anything he wants to know. Your friends may not act like it but they are just as  afraid of him as you are! The most important thing is don't depend on anyone but YOU! Only YOU can change the pattern!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-8349977533331732702?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8349977533331732702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/domestic-abuse-and-stalking.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/8349977533331732702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/8349977533331732702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/domestic-abuse-and-stalking.html' title='Domestic Abuse and Stalking!'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-2723845284643082136</id><published>2009-04-19T22:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T23:00:59.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring time is here...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SewMlRf4kVI/AAAAAAAAACU/TK-78roo90c/s1600-h/Flowers002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326646293764280658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SewMlRf4kVI/AAAAAAAAACU/TK-78roo90c/s400/Flowers002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Earth laughs in flowers. &lt;a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/r/ralphwaldo105196.html"&gt;Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every flower is a soul blossoming in nature. &lt;a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/gerarddene166111.html"&gt;Gerard De &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nerval&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Flowers are the sweetest things God ever made and forgot to put a soul into. &lt;a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/h/henrywardb105194.html"&gt;Henry Ward Beecher&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are my favorite quotes about the beauty of flowers in the spring time. The time of year when most days are just the right &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;temperature&lt;/span&gt;,  flowers grow and blossom to give you a sense of accomplishment. But, all the hard work pays off by reminding us of something we often forget.  God's way of showing the beauty of what He created was meant for us to look upon and enjoy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-2723845284643082136?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/2723845284643082136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-time-is-here.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/2723845284643082136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/2723845284643082136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-time-is-here.html' title='Spring time is here...'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SewMlRf4kVI/AAAAAAAAACU/TK-78roo90c/s72-c/Flowers002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-1343097237255320302</id><published>2009-04-18T17:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T18:20:58.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"He Found Me While He Was On The Pot!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Tomorrow is my 13th. wedding anniversary to a wonderful man! I love him dearly more and more every passing day. He is a gentleman in every sense of the word. He's caring, loving, funny, and we are complete opposites! It's true! I do Thank God for letting him find me, though. I don't understand him, and he says "I make him nuts!"  LOL! Even though we are very opposite, he's simple, I'm rather (really) complicated. Somehow, we mesh. We seem to always have the same thought process when it comes to everyday living and we have done this since we began dating. From what to eat for dinner to what we will serve on holidays. I think it's weird but then I think we are soul mates.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;When we met, I was a very lonely single mother with two boys to raise 14 &amp;amp; 11. He was a lonely man with two boys also. Before I moved here I had a Man-Crazy roommate who thought it would be funny if we put a personals ad in the local Pennysaver. So we did. Mine was titled "Silly but Serious". Hers, I can't remember, it was probably "Hot To Trot" or something of a sexual nature. I'm sure the word 'promiscuous' is either on her birth certificate or resume'. Anyway, I moved from my townhouse to a condo here with my kids. By then I had met quite a bit of different men, but they were not at all my type, maybe one but that was it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Then, I met my husband. To be honest, he didn't like me at first and I thought he was a 'nerd'! In less than an hour my nerd turned into a prince! It was amazing! Like I said I do Thank God for bringing him into my life at just the right time everyday for everything he means to me and all the wonderful things he does to help me with my disabilities. But every so often, I wish God would have found a better place for him to find and read my ad. He was on the TOILET!!!! Me, being like a dog after a bone, I just had to know where he was when he found my ad!!! Man, I was so stupid to ask! It still bugs me.......Happy Anniversary, Honey! Would you like to see this week's Pennysaver?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-1343097237255320302?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/1343097237255320302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/he-found-me-while-he-was-on-pot.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/1343097237255320302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/1343097237255320302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/he-found-me-while-he-was-on-pot.html' title='&quot;He Found Me While He Was On The Pot!'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-3898182116714131538</id><published>2009-04-17T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T14:26:20.045-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mountaintop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peace'/><title type='text'>A NiceThought For Us All....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SejzZK4qHdI/AAAAAAAAACM/37hPM7hRuKc/s1600-h/FallCMD2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325774173109886418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 194px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SejzZK4qHdI/AAAAAAAAACM/37hPM7hRuKc/s320/FallCMD2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Life is short, Break the rules, Forgive quickly, Kiss slowly, Love truly, Laugh uncontrollably, And never regret anything that made you smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-3898182116714131538?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/3898182116714131538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/nicethought-for-us-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/3898182116714131538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/3898182116714131538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/nicethought-for-us-all.html' title='A NiceThought For Us All....'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SejzZK4qHdI/AAAAAAAAACM/37hPM7hRuKc/s72-c/FallCMD2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-7864573229103829980</id><published>2009-04-17T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T07:45:14.565-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Kidney Transplant (Part One)</title><content type='html'>Today I want to let everyone know "The Mechanics of My Body" and what I am facing. My transplant will not be a 'run of the mill surgery' like it is for others. I am very prone to many complications. Some of which are the reason I opted to live with my spinal disease. My spine and medical history are such a complicated mess that a world renowned neurosurgeon did not want to operate on me 4 years ago. HE was afraid of what he would find and afraid infection would set in on top of not being able to heal properly due to the Diabetes.&lt;br /&gt;Now onto the kidney. First, I am highly allergic to many different drugs, especially antibiotics and steroids. The antibiotic list is so long, it's easier to tell you, I can only take three. On top of that, I can't receive any steroidal treatment of any kind. I am so sensitive to meds that there is always a bottle of liquid Benadryl sitting on my kitchen counter at all times. I am even allergic to certain brands of insulin, I can only tolerate Novolog and Lantus. Before they came out, we had a rough time keeping my sugar in check for years, the Dr.'s were trying everything to stabilize me.&lt;br /&gt;Second, I have suffered since I was 16 with a skin condition called 'Hidradenitis Suppurtiva', that is a medical name for infected sweat glands, but it has other conditions it can cause. In 1984, I had my armpits removed after the birth of my second son from having so many abscesses. You would think that would stop it...NOT!! It moves to another area of your body as well as makes your skin vulnerable to an infection if you happen to cut yourself or even bruise an area of skin. In 1994, a box fell on my right breast and an abscess formed behind the nipple. I had to have it operated on in 1996 due to constant flare-ups and the nipple infection re-surfaced with my last child's birth which was a C-section that also developed infection due to it being an abdominal surgery. It took until 2000 for the breast to heal inside completely and the C-section will reopen on the right side from time to time. Bottom line, any surgery equals automatic chance of infection, so my Dr. is very sure there will be complications. I keep my poor Dr.nuts trying to care for me! My kidney guy doesn't know what to make of me because I am a very poor candidate for Kidney Dialysis due to the intrusion under my skin. He is all for me going to John's Hopkins for the transplant. I live in the country. The one hospital we do have does not handle major issues. I am in third stage kidney disease and fighting to stay there. They cannot even give me the Dialysis in my sub-clavians because they are blocked from a slight cardiac event18 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;O.k., fingers wearing out. Will write the rest later or tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Carol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-7864573229103829980?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/7864573229103829980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-kidney-transplant-part-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/7864573229103829980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/7864573229103829980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-kidney-transplant-part-one.html' title='My Kidney Transplant (Part One)'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-3408353286427601736</id><published>2009-04-15T21:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T21:37:17.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tax Time is Over!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sea12xF07SI/AAAAAAAAACE/hsQRhQc5deU/s1600-h/ATT95355.jpe"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325143561907531042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 252px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sea12xF07SI/AAAAAAAAACE/hsQRhQc5deU/s400/ATT95355.jpe" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-3408353286427601736?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/3408353286427601736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/tax-time-is-over.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/3408353286427601736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/3408353286427601736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/tax-time-is-over.html' title='Tax Time is Over!!!'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sea12xF07SI/AAAAAAAAACE/hsQRhQc5deU/s72-c/ATT95355.jpe' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-4757543811039156239</id><published>2009-04-15T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T15:34:38.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Really Are Not How We Are Seen.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000099;"&gt;Have you ever gone on a job interview fully qualified and dressed to the nines? Given 10 minutes to sell yourself and convince them that you are the right candidate for the job, only to find out that after waiting painstakingly for two weeks, you didn't get it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;Have you ever been shopping and watched a salesperson fawn over a nice looking man or woman, then when it's your turn in line, she is rude and obtuse toward you?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;Have you ever been out in a nice club, met a man and he's buying you drinks, hanging on to your every word as you converse, danced a little and left the table to go to the Ladies room only to return and find he is dancing with a scantly clad other woman and he is now at her table? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;Have you  even found times that while getting coffee, you are overlooked as the next in line and they help another person standing a short ways away from you? These are just a few examples I have had happen to me several years ago. Sometimes, I have had problems with hairdressers. If I go in not feeling well and I am not wearing makeup and my hair is a wreck, I come out with a lousy cut. An old friend of mine who was a hair stylist for years admitted to me that if her client wasn't clean looking, or seemed to not really care how they looked. She did not put much effort into the cut. This is not to say all hairdressers,  all men, and all salespeople demonstrate this behavior, but I have put it to the test and found in most cases these situations do occur. It's judgement! Our society is so judgement based on how we look, that what our worth to them is instantly judged. A friend of mine sent me this today which inspired me to write this post. The site is: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY&lt;/a&gt; and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;it more than shows the attitude that people automatically have when one doesn't LOOK appealing in their eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-4757543811039156239?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4757543811039156239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/we-really-are-not-how-we-are-seen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/4757543811039156239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/4757543811039156239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/we-really-are-not-how-we-are-seen.html' title='We Really Are Not How We Are Seen.'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-6512204341191634627</id><published>2009-04-13T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T10:21:11.584-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vera Wang'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cologne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Smell'/><title type='text'>Feeling Like a Princess</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;If you are a woman who likes that fresh, clean and spring-like scent when wearing perfume or cologne, then Vera Wang's Princess Cologne is for you. I have read several different reviews about it, but I think it's very floral and not strong at all. My husband always buys me designer cologne if I make mention of it as a gift on special occasions or holidays. He usually makes a point of making a mental note. This year he didn't forget about Princess but bought me Ralph Lauren's Romance instead. So...I bought Vera's for myself online from &lt;a href="http://www.fragrancex.com/"&gt;http://www.fragrancex.com/&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I love it! I had smelled it in Belk Department Store and fell in love with it right away. Even though I don't go out very much, I still wear it after a shower. There is no crime in smelling good just because you stay in the house quite a bit. I really like that you do not need to drown yourself in it and it lasts 6-8 hours. I see now that there are other versions of it like 'Rock Princess' and 'Flower Princess'.  I guess I need to get to Belk and see how they smell too. It's $45.00 in the store but at the website I mentioned above, it is cheaper and it is not a knock-off. I know them when I smell them if they are true fragrances or not. Another appealing aspect is the bottle. I like how it differs from my other bottles. The heart shape with the crown cap is cute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeNqhuaqCFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/eM-NaW2i97c/s1600-h/MakeCappedImage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324216312110123090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeNqhuaqCFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/eM-NaW2i97c/s320/MakeCappedImage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-6512204341191634627?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6512204341191634627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/feeling-like-princess.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6512204341191634627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6512204341191634627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/feeling-like-princess.html' title='Feeling Like a Princess'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeNqhuaqCFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/eM-NaW2i97c/s72-c/MakeCappedImage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-5298539686026369641</id><published>2009-04-13T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T06:53:57.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Do Love Real Easter Bunnies!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeNAbYZPlNI/AAAAAAAAABs/O11S2mQ-Q5Q/s1600-h/Easter_Bunnies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324170023631033554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeNAbYZPlNI/AAAAAAAAABs/O11S2mQ-Q5Q/s400/Easter_Bunnies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do love the Real bunny rabbits. Due to the angst in comments, I feel the need to clarify.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry if others took it literally against the animals. I love animals! I just find it weird that grown men would dress in the costume and parade around or for that matter hop around. It's just my phobia. If a Daddy wants to do this for his little children in his home or yard, that's his business. But...if I am going to an Easter egg hunt roll, I would much rather see a large decorated chicken with pastel feathers stomping around with a basket of eggs. I think we should have an Easter Chicken!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-5298539686026369641?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/5298539686026369641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-do-love-real-easter-bunnies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/5298539686026369641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/5298539686026369641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-do-love-real-easter-bunnies.html' title='I Do Love Real Easter Bunnies!'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeNAbYZPlNI/AAAAAAAAABs/O11S2mQ-Q5Q/s72-c/Easter_Bunnies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-327126291517729802</id><published>2009-04-11T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T10:31:57.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I HATE THE EASTER BUNNY!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeDMbcS7GrI/AAAAAAAAABc/LC1xD2eCvrw/s1600-h/Manbunny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323479531376024242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 108px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 145px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeDMbcS7GrI/AAAAAAAAABc/LC1xD2eCvrw/s400/Manbunny.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#993399;"&gt;For many years, as far back as I can remember people took their small children to see the Easter Bunny. What a horrible thing to do to your children! I have NEVER taken my children to see him! I AM AFRAID OF THE BUNNY MAN!!! Just look above, does this not creep you out? Just the fact that some fool (whoever it is) would dress in all that white fur is beyond me! He looks like he could be a serial killer. In fact, there was one in the 70's where I lived. When I was a teenager there was a man dressed in a bunny suit killing young girls by cutting their heads off with an axe! He only killed girls with names like Denise, Diane, Debbie. They all had to start with the letter 'D'. I thank my parents so much for naming me Carol, but I just slipped under the door with my escape from certain doom at the hands of THE BUNNY MAN KILLER! I get chills to this day thinking about it. It is a real fear for me. Just look at those eyes, they are huge and scary!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993399;"&gt;About 10 years ago a neighbor must have dressed up like a Bunny Man for an Easter Egg Hunt and he came skipping down my street. I freaked! I was sure he finally found me! I won't even go to an egg hunt for fear I will run into one. Besides, when did Bunnies start laying frigging eggs anyway?  Whoever thought of this connection was a sick puppy I'm sure of!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993399;"&gt;Bunny Hater&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-327126291517729802?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/327126291517729802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-hate-easter-bunny.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/327126291517729802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/327126291517729802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-hate-easter-bunny.html' title='I HATE THE EASTER BUNNY!!'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeDMbcS7GrI/AAAAAAAAABc/LC1xD2eCvrw/s72-c/Manbunny.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-8446027602955731416</id><published>2009-04-10T20:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T21:26:12.319-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Good Friday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jesus'/><title type='text'>Good Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeAUDmWhcDI/AAAAAAAAABU/KJbh7Nw4ifc/s1600-h/Jesus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323276811619102770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 102px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeAUDmWhcDI/AAAAAAAAABU/KJbh7Nw4ifc/s320/Jesus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Good Friday is a somber, thoughtful day for me. I think often during this day what Jesus endured. It makes my heart ache for him. I live in constant pain, but the pain he must have felt carrying the cross on his back, on stone and gravel. up mountainsides on bleeding feet and his back bled from constant lashings. Begging for just water and receiving very little from women who were beaten for giving him anything. Begging for his Holy Father to save him. The tears and blood he shed that day.  The awful pain he must have felt when his body was affixed to the cross and then raised up for him to suffer until he died His final breath had to have been a gift for once he drew it and exhaled, the pain was over. All of what he endured is something I will never compare my daily aches and pain to. I feel we are so very blessed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;                            Thank you Jesus, my Lord and Savior.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;                            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;                            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;                            Luke 23:46: "Jesus called out with a loud voice, 'Father into Your hands I commit My spirit,' Having said this, He breathed His last." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-8446027602955731416?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8446027602955731416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/good-friday.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/8446027602955731416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/8446027602955731416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/good-friday.html' title='Good Friday'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/SeAUDmWhcDI/AAAAAAAAABU/KJbh7Nw4ifc/s72-c/Jesus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-3309828215571422684</id><published>2009-04-09T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T15:34:47.758-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Small informational tool.'/><title type='text'>7 Boring Things About Me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;1. I'm a complete creature of habit.&lt;br /&gt;2. My husband is my love of my life and I couldn't have picked a better man!&lt;br /&gt;3. My youngest makes everyday fun no matter how bad I feel.&lt;br /&gt;4. My friendships are important to me and I will go great lengths to let them know it.&lt;br /&gt;5. I never and refuse to 'look sick' when I see my Dr.&lt;br /&gt;6. I hate it when a person just 'drops by' and doesn't call first.&lt;br /&gt;7. I believe God will take care of me no matter what the situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are 7 things about you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Feel free to email your answers to me or leave them in your comment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-3309828215571422684?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/3309828215571422684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/7-boring-things-about-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/3309828215571422684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/3309828215571422684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/7-boring-things-about-me.html' title='7 Boring Things About Me.'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-6133337354998097797</id><published>2009-04-08T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T22:40:36.203-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Denied'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Social Security'/><title type='text'>Social Security Entitlement, Am I?????</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Somebody wrote into my Diabetic group on Yahoo about people getting Social Security when they really are not entitled to it, this just frustrates me to no end! I know of many such cases. Someone else was saying Diabetes is not a disability, but it is on the S.S. list due to the complications that arise and rob you of you!&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I am angered by this as well as very frustrated. NOT EVERY DIABETIC IS THE SAME! I am mulling over in my mind how to respond to this. Here is one answer I have written but not posted to the group yet. If you should happen to read this, please feel free to comment good or bad, I can take it. I trust and appreciate any and all feedback from Cafemom members. Here it is:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have over the years ran into a lot of people doing this and it makes me crazy. I've tried getting Social Security because I am disabled due to Cervical Spondylosis, Diabetes, Tethered Spinal Cord Syndrome, Third Stage Kidney disease and all the other issues I have medically. They refuse me because I haven't worked for over 10 years at any job for any great length of time. I am unable to work due to the neuropathy that I am inflicted with from Cervical Spondylosis &amp;amp; Diabetes combined. My Central Nervous System is robbing me more and more everyday of doing simple things. It has become a struggle to open a bottle of water, get the cap open on dish liquid and peel back tops off sugar free pudding.&lt;br /&gt;I've tried many jobs over the last 10 years (all in the medical field) and they are too taxing on me. I couldn't even get hired here last year for a receptionist position in a nursing home part-time due to my nerve damaged bladder and that I self-cath and you can't be in the bathroom too long anywhere you work when you have to answer phones. The woman told me that was why I wasn't hired when I inquired about the position after being interviewed. I guess being honest doesn't pay off. I know that's job discrimination, but the nursing home is the worst one down here. Anyway, she did me a favor&lt;br /&gt;I am now losing feeling in my fingers and arms. I live in constant pain. I can't walk for longer than 5 minutes outside of my house. Inside I can walk around at best 10 - 15 mins., but then have to sit down. I cannot do housework, cook, do laundry other than fold clothes sitting down. Also, can't run, ride a bike, or even swim. I am in the house 24/7 unless I have to go to see one of my Dr.'s. or get a haircut both of which my husband has to take off work in order for me to go. I can't even drive the distance if something happens to my 12 y/o at school, hubby has to go get him. I don't shop unless it's online and I go out socially once or twice a year for a special dinner or maybe a Christmas party.&lt;br /&gt;I do not travel, can't sit in a car for longer than two hours due to an unhealed broken tail bone that has been broken 4-5 times since last year from falling. I spend every day alone for 6-8 hours and I try doing what I can to help out if I am able to. My middle son will sometimes come over and help me if I find I need him for something. I am now reduced to taking a shower using a shower chair, my back can't take the length of time it takes to wash properly and the pain is so excruciating, I nearly fall or pass out!&lt;br /&gt;For the last 6 weeks I have nearly LIVED in my recliner thanks to a foot ulcer from nicking a callous on the bottom of my foot using a Pedegg very lightly on the side of my foot I couldn't see. It became very infected, very fast. I should not have been using it, but you can if you are very careful, so I feel this episode in Carol's life is my own fault. In defense though, very dry or cracked feet in a Diabetic can split and ulcerate on their own if you do not take care of them nightly. I have to sit here anyway to keep fluid from building in my legs and feet due to third stage kidney disease. They have to be elevated all the time if I am sitting down.&lt;br /&gt;But...according to our government, I am not entitled because I haven't earned enough credits in the last ten years. I haven't been well enough to work steady for the last ten years! I lost the ability to run in "1991"! I am still appealing their denial of benefits that I worked 25 years paying into. This issue really kicks me to my core. Especially when I know people who claim to be depressed and get it right off on the first try! I have applied twice and turned down both times. It's not even a large monthly amount! I have been told by friends that I should use Depression too as a reason. Maybe I should add Depression to my list of ailments. Please know that I am very aware of how bad Depression is and can be. I have had periodic episodes myself and medically treated for it but it is manageable in most cases. And... I do know some can be very severe and require way more than a pill and a counselor.&lt;br /&gt;Just so you know, this is written out of anger not self-pity. I accept what God has given me to endure and handle it the best way I can. I guess I can thank God for giving Mankind the brains to invent the Internet, music, writers that write books, TV, and most of all the the telephone! LOL! I just have to wonder where the brains are in the Social Security Administration!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-6133337354998097797?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6133337354998097797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/social-security-entitlementam-i.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6133337354998097797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/6133337354998097797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2009/04/social-security-entitlementam-i.html' title='Social Security Entitlement, Am I?????'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3421360962710079533.post-194375489910574288</id><published>2008-04-20T14:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T14:22:25.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to Hollyrock</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I am starting my new blog here today. Seems to be a popular place for everyone. Seems other blogs are getting old. It's Sunday here in Hollyrock! The place is jammin' and you can hear the races for miles! LOL! My wonderful husband loves his Nascar! Give him a Lite and a TV with Nascar and he's happy. Doesn't take much! You're not a true Hollyrocker unless you luv, luv, luv Nascar! Personally, I can take it or leave it. It's going to be a busy week. Appointments, house re-decorating, planting tomatoes and cucumbers. Can't wait for those fresh tomatoes to start to sprout. I have the pepper can ready and waiting...Hope everyone is having a wonderful Sunday~Sending hugs...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3421360962710079533-194375489910574288?l=carolshollyrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/feeds/194375489910574288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2008/04/welcome-to-hollyrock.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/194375489910574288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3421360962710079533/posts/default/194375489910574288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carolshollyrock.blogspot.com/2008/04/welcome-to-hollyrock.html' title='Welcome to Hollyrock'/><author><name>Hollyrock</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07020861216164003166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Uq1roW1YY9M/Sd5alAPzpCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/TDDF7wPE99k/S220/09-04-07.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
