<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Tue, 13 Oct 2009 20:44:13 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Careangel</title><description></description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>49</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-5728997509931219910</guid><pubDate>Thu, 08 Oct 2009 02:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-07T21:29:45.048-05:00</atom:updated><title>Wonderful Wednesdays</title><description>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Every week I look forward to Wednesday nights. That is the night I put aside to have dinner with my niece and nephew. They are sophmores in college and very much appreciate getting off campus. We have some great chats during out dinner time. I don't know what I would do without those kids. I love them to pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&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/6372799056864786046-5728997509931219910?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/10/wonderful-wednesdays.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-6134995109465865175</guid><pubDate>Tue, 06 Oct 2009 00:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-05T19:11:19.935-05:00</atom:updated><title>I'm back--again</title><description>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I know I have said this before but....I'm back to the blogging world. Hopefully I can keep up with it better this time. Lots has happened since my last post. I sold my house the beginning of August, rented a town home in Woodbury, and moved the end of August. I have been living here now for about 5 weeks and love it more and more every day. It is really nice not to have a yard to mow, gardens to tend to, and a 90 mile/day commute. I hope to now have more time to do other things. I am looking for ideas so if you have any, send them my way. Go Vikes!!&lt;br /&gt;&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/6372799056864786046-6134995109465865175?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-back-again.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-9030359207895639674</guid><pubDate>Tue, 23 Jun 2009 03:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-22T22:22:33.358-05:00</atom:updated><title>The Fam</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SkBKaELDuaI/AAAAAAAAACA/60pGubTl6NE/s1600-h/IMG_0879.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SkBKaELDuaI/AAAAAAAAACA/60pGubTl6NE/s320/IMG_0879.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350358168973326754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Even though there are only 7 people in my immediate family, we don't have too many opportunities when we are all together and can get a picture taken. This weekend was one of those times. Here is my family!&lt;br /&gt;&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/6372799056864786046-9030359207895639674?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/06/fam.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SkBKaELDuaI/AAAAAAAAACA/60pGubTl6NE/s72-c/IMG_0879.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-6880126006533839616</guid><pubDate>Wed, 17 Jun 2009 02:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-16T21:31:29.123-05:00</atom:updated><title>St. Joseph Update</title><description>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Last week I was given a St. Joseph statue from a co-worker of mine. I thought it was very sweet of her to care enough about me selling my house to do that. I debated for a couple days whether or not I should bury it. On Saturday, I decided "What the heck" and buried it in the garden next to the house. No results yet--and I am not holding my breath. Thanks Sheila for being so thoughtful!&lt;br /&gt;&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/6372799056864786046-6880126006533839616?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/06/st-joseph-update.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-6129063465772990824</guid><pubDate>Sun, 14 Jun 2009 22:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-14T18:32:04.531-05:00</atom:updated><title>Feathery frenzy</title><description>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Outside of my kitchen window there is a birdbath clamped to the deck rail. On it hangs a "dripper" that drips fresh water constantly. Sunday must be the official bath of the birds. I caught one bath on video and thought I would share it with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c276e2119176c562" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAHZQAKfu6jF-JfdYz_38VlgIqvu8eVOr-rJbPX-1NfE1TD4MlBKX8rXCfMGz4SZF9168i5aQDcQi5UjkMXZvDINP-ptKY00rXPBpGuubKrZtibe3IEKyF0u-o7VLzqilvdQqxOm1GgX5GzW9wc3LJbwuAf95Pkc5D0iBXUzhaPlSddmLvKRcrFpeUpdIejcuCcElbMKEA8leoZ96D4NdvQQDt1QA-RbdELC4k4XakHZu%26sigh%3DtNVxEv1fUwypjCcYH5r6QMzhYF8%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc276e2119176c562%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3Dqj9ND983KR6c-CxVoumJFknoDFs&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAHZQAKfu6jF-JfdYz_38VlgIqvu8eVOr-rJbPX-1NfE1TD4MlBKX8rXCfMGz4SZF9168i5aQDcQi5UjkMXZvDINP-ptKY00rXPBpGuubKrZtibe3IEKyF0u-o7VLzqilvdQqxOm1GgX5GzW9wc3LJbwuAf95Pkc5D0iBXUzhaPlSddmLvKRcrFpeUpdIejcuCcElbMKEA8leoZ96D4NdvQQDt1QA-RbdELC4k4XakHZu%26sigh%3DtNVxEv1fUwypjCcYH5r6QMzhYF8%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc276e2119176c562%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3Dqj9ND983KR6c-CxVoumJFknoDFs&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-6129063465772990824?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><enclosure type='video/mp4' url='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c276e2119176c562&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/06/feathery-frenzy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-1176061600871806899</guid><pubDate>Sat, 13 Jun 2009 22:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-13T17:18:32.209-05:00</atom:updated><title>Sign of old age?</title><description>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Why is it on the days I could sleep in I can't? I remember asking my Dad why he always got up so early on Saturdays since he had to get up so early on the weekdays. His response was always "That's the way it is when you get old". I guess this is just another sign that I am getting old.&lt;br /&gt;&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/6372799056864786046-1176061600871806899?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/06/sign-of-old-age.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-7097038787732770649</guid><pubDate>Sat, 13 Jun 2009 02:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-12T21:46:49.128-05:00</atom:updated><title>Choir of frogs</title><description>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;I cannot have my windows open at night. The choir of frogs is SO loud that I can't get to sleep. How does something so small make so much noise? Just another one of God's wonders!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-7097038787732770649?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/06/choir-of-frogs_12.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-3999637434946480471</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2009 02:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-11T21:18:06.857-05:00</atom:updated><title>Prayers for my Sister</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SjG5Mi9lh3I/AAAAAAAAAB4/uJdPix5RJEc/s1600-h/IMG_0772_1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SjG5Mi9lh3I/AAAAAAAAAB4/uJdPix5RJEc/s320/IMG_0772_1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346257857860175730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I have one sibling, a sister, and she is my best friend. So often I think about her and marvel at the person she is. She is 2 years younger than me but she has experienced more physical pain in her young life than I ever care to experience. She suffers from degenerative joint disease and arthritis in her back. On top of that, her pelvis is out of alignment by 1 inch. She is not able to do most of the things she wants to do either because it hurts too bad or her mind isn't clear enough because of all of the pain medications she has to take to even move some. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt;The thing that amazes me most is her faith. She often says, even though she is suffering a lot, that she knows God has a plan for her and she is experiencing this for a reason. Sometimes she shares that she wonders how long she has to wait for that plan to be revealed but she is never angry or bitter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt;If you feel moved to do so, please pray for her that she would find at least minimal relief--even for a short time. Thanks!&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/6372799056864786046-3999637434946480471?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/06/prayers-for-my-sister.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SjG5Mi9lh3I/AAAAAAAAAB4/uJdPix5RJEc/s72-c/IMG_0772_1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-944906449524276467</guid><pubDate>Thu, 11 Jun 2009 01:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-10T21:42:26.028-05:00</atom:updated><title>Fitting in</title><description>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am finding it challenging to be a 45 year old, single, childless women and trying to figure out where I fit in. Even though I love living in the country, it doesn't give me many opportunites to meet people. All of my neighbors have young kids and just seem to keep to themselves. I am looking for ways to fit in more. Any ideas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/6372799056864786046-944906449524276467?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/06/fitting-in.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-8100170698709898577</guid><pubDate>Wed, 10 Jun 2009 02:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-09T22:03:45.986-05:00</atom:updated><title>Tranquil Water</title><description>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153); font-family: arial;"&gt;What is it about water that makes it so tranquil? It doesn't seem to matter where I am or what type of body of water I am by, I just relax. It can be a lapping waves at a beach on Maui, a small running creek, the "dripper" that hangs on my bird bath. It doesn't matter. Tonight I went on a dinner cruise with some work friends on the St. Croix. Yep--it was tranquil and relaxing. If only I could listen to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153); font-family: arial;"&gt;water every night after work. Any other water lovers out there?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-8100170698709898577?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/06/tranquil-water.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-6439950320755558501</guid><pubDate>Mon, 08 Jun 2009 23:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-08T19:01:01.644-05:00</atom:updated><title>St. Joseph</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.catholicsupply.com/christmas/_borders/13462.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 257px;" src="http://www.catholicsupply.com/christmas/_borders/13462.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My house has been on the market since September. I don't have to move but would love for it to sell so I could downsize and not have so much to care for. Some of my co-workers are encouraging me to bury a St. Joseph statue in my yard. Doing this is supposed to help the house selling go faster. I am SO not Catholic. However--when Gerrell was trying to see his house in Hudson back in 2001, he did this and his house sold the next day. My question---is it wrong for me to try this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-6439950320755558501?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/06/st-joseph.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-4916547708951858279</guid><pubDate>Sun, 07 Jun 2009 23:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-07T19:33:04.751-05:00</atom:updated><title>Memories of the past</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SixVO74v58I/AAAAAAAAABM/Vn6l-f7o2w8/s1600-h/Image023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SixVO74v58I/AAAAAAAAABM/Vn6l-f7o2w8/s320/Image023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344740572864178114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;This weekend I spent the majority of the time going through things in the home office. Many of these things were in Gerrell's side of the desk--papers, computer CD's, etc. Yes...I should have done this a long time ago but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I knew it would stir up memories--both painful and happy. On one of the discs, I found a set of pictures from our wedding that a friend of ours took. Our wedding day was such a happy day. I married my soul mate and the man whom I truly believe was a gift from God. Here is a picture that I think truly shows how happy we were. I miss you Sweetheart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-4916547708951858279?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2009/06/memories-of-past.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SixVO74v58I/AAAAAAAAABM/Vn6l-f7o2w8/s72-c/Image023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-483836498358987433</guid><pubDate>Wed, 12 Nov 2008 03:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-11T21:22:45.378-06:00</atom:updated><title>Get with the program</title><description>I put in a long day at work today. When I got to my car and saw that the windshield was covered with ice, I realized I didn't have an ice scraper in the car yet. Time to get with the program. It is November and winter weather is here. First thing I did when I got home is put a scraper in the car. Sometimes I am just slow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-483836498358987433?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/11/get-with-program.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-2098179224916008243</guid><pubDate>Mon, 10 Nov 2008 02:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-09T21:00:27.190-06:00</atom:updated><title>I need to let go</title><description>I have feelings of resentment toward someone in my life. I know these are not feelings that God approves of. I know I need to let these feelings go but I am really struggling to do that.  The hard part of this for me is I haven't shared the feelings with the person. If I did, it would only cause them pain. I think they can sense these feelings I have for them and that doesn't feel too good. Have you ever had feelings of resentment against someone? If so, were you able to let them go? If so, how?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-2098179224916008243?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-need-to-let-go.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-7365864038703431455</guid><pubDate>Sat, 08 Nov 2008 03:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-07T21:45:40.512-06:00</atom:updated><title>A word of advice</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So many times Gerrell told me I should back up the files on my hard drive. A few years ago he bought me an external hard drive to hold all of my pictures, iTunes music. He encouraged me to copy everything to discs in case anything happened to the hard drive. Well, that was something I kept putting off and putting off and never got accomplished. Now it looks like the hard drive is shot and I have lost my pictures and my music. Why don't I listen when good advice is given?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-7365864038703431455?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/11/word-of-advice.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-1130197937332224476</guid><pubDate>Fri, 07 Nov 2008 01:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-06T19:24:29.533-06:00</atom:updated><title>Season of dread</title><description>Yesterday I went to say goodbye to my Grandma who is dying. This is the 3rd year in a row I have had to say goodbye to someone this time of year.&lt;br /&gt;November 5th 2008--said goodbye to Grandma&lt;br /&gt;November 4th 2007--said goodbye to Gerrell's uncle Harold&lt;br /&gt;November 9th 2006---said goodbye to Gerrell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am going to dread Novembers arrival for years to come. It has just been a really sad time of the year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-1130197937332224476?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/11/season-of-dread.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-2985699323721306323</guid><pubDate>Mon, 03 Nov 2008 03:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-02T21:35:38.908-06:00</atom:updated><title>Real reason for blogging</title><description>I think one of the reasons I haven't really gotten into blog writing is because I didn't think anyone read my blog anyway. Tonight someone told me they are still checking my blog so I guess at least one person does. After that, I began to think about the real reason to write a blog. Maybe it shouldn't be just for others to read but instead be a way for me to write my thoughts, feelings, etc--my own personal therapy. I think that is how I will look at if from now on. And maybe I will do it more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-2985699323721306323?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/11/real-reason-for-blogging.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-424825989688434722</guid><pubDate>Tue, 09 Sep 2008 01:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-09-08T20:51:07.241-05:00</atom:updated><title>I'm back</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Wow--it has been almost 4 months since my last blog. Where did that time go? The summer went by fast but I must say I love fall and am not sad to see the summer end. I have so much to write about and hopefully I will be able to make this a regular practice. Thanks to my fellow bloggers for keeping me entertained through the summer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-424825989688434722?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-back.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-7586871999233749163</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 May 2008 02:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-05-18T21:47:29.065-05:00</atom:updated><title>Sibling Love</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SDDp3_ZXUPI/AAAAAAAAAAY/FuJtdPdZXE0/s1600-h/Levi+and+Lindsey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SDDp3_ZXUPI/AAAAAAAAAAY/FuJtdPdZXE0/s320/Levi+and+Lindsey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201914717732819186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up, my sister and I didn't get along very well. We would have frequent fights as most young siblings do. It wasn't until I went off to college that we became closer. I think she actually missed me! Now she is my best friend. I have been telling my niece and nephew that they too would one day actually love each other. I think that day is getting closer. This picture was taken at their senior prom. I think the smiles tell it all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-7586871999233749163?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/05/sibling-love.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_7TUHTQH_WrY/SDDp3_ZXUPI/AAAAAAAAAAY/FuJtdPdZXE0/s72-c/Levi+and+Lindsey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-8690452744162397922</guid><pubDate>Tue, 13 May 2008 00:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-05-12T19:46:45.644-05:00</atom:updated><title>Sometimes it's hard to be a women</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I must admit that most of the time I am able to fend for myself pretty well. However, the past couple of days I have been put to the test. On Saturday as I was leaving to do some errands, the low tire pressure light came on in the car. I abruptly turned around as I didn't want to be stalled on the highway. As I leaned down to check the tire when I got home, I could hear the air slowly leaking out. Now, I am sure I could change a tire if I had to. I have just chosen not to and instead purchased a AAA membership. I had to call them on Sunday to put the spare on for me. The situation was not yet resolved. I still had to get the tire fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that wasn't enough, my small garage door would not close using the opener. Could the fact that I hit the sensor with the grill as I was putting it away have anything to do with it? I tried everything I knew how to try and fix it. No such luck. I decided I could live with lifting that door open manually. I just stuck a screwdriver in the little hole so the door could not be lifted by anyone outside. Pretty smart thinking if I do say so myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to go into work late today and go and get my tire fixed. I don't like the thought of driving around without a spare. Well--as I was leaving the big garage door wouldn't open. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;IS THIS A JOKE? WHAT ELSE IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I actually said out loud "I miss you so much Honey in times like this. You would have taken care of all of this". I couldn't help it. It is times like this I hate being a woman living alone. Well, I took out the Yellow Pages and found a garage door repair place. In the end, God was looking out for me as 2 very nice guys came to my rescue. The spring on the garage door had broken. So....$169 later I was able to get out. (As a bonus--they fixed the small garage door too!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, by the way--I got the tire fixed today too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/6372799056864786046-8690452744162397922?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/05/sometimes-its-hard-to-be-women.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-1203018152722705722</guid><pubDate>Fri, 09 May 2008 01:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-05-08T20:48:45.282-05:00</atom:updated><title>Aldi</title><description>I have read on other blogs about Aldi. I figured out through what was written that Aldi is a grocery store. Now I have seen a couple of commercials for the store. Can someone tell me about Aldi?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-1203018152722705722?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/05/aldi.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-3086672426649237850</guid><pubDate>Fri, 02 May 2008 03:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-05-04T07:45:31.356-05:00</atom:updated><title>Advice needed</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A few weeks ago, I wrote about an experience I had in church of hearing a voice. The voice told me not to forget about Gerrell's friend Neal. Gerrell was concerned that Neal didn't know Jesus. So...on the advice of one of the pastor's at my church, I wrote Neal a letter. Here is a part of what the letter said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So...I am convinced that the voice that spoke to me in church was telling me I needed to move forward with Gerrell's desire. I have to admit I am not very experienced with talking to those who don't know Jesus. All I can do is share what is in my heart. The basis of having a relationship with Jesus is believing that He died on the cross for the forgiveness of my sins and in that, I have the hope of salvation. In return for that great gift, we are to live our lives in a way that would be pleasing to God--serving him in every way we can.  I believe that all believers will, when we leave this earth, live forever with Jesus in heaven. I truly believe that is where Gerrell is now. Part of his concern for those he loved that didn't know Jesus was that he wasn't going to see those people in heaven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended the letter with this:&lt;br /&gt;"The purpose of this letter was not to try and force you into anything. Instead I wanted you to know Gerrell's desire for you and that I am here to help in whatever way I can. I will continue to pray for you that your heart will be stirred."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't heard anything from Neal. It has been  about 2 weeks since I mailed the letter. I am not sure what to do next. Neal is not a close friend of mine--I grew to know him through Gerrell. I am struggling with what to do now. Should I follow up with him? I don't want him to feel like I am pressuring him at all. Should I do nothing? Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-3086672426649237850?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/05/advice-needed.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-4006876943923279292</guid><pubDate>Thu, 01 May 2008 00:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-04-30T19:25:54.067-05:00</atom:updated><title>Maybe the deer aren't so smart</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;This morning on my way to work I had a little chuckle. As I was driving by Willow River State Park, a deer ran across the road at high speed. Why the chuckle you might ask? When Gerrell and I would be driving around Wisconsin and see deer, the deer would always stop before getting to the road--just like they were checking to see if a car was coming before they crossed. Gerrell always said the deer in Wisconsin were so smart because they did that. Well,  looks like at least one of them missed that lesson at deer school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-4006876943923279292?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/04/maybe-deer-arent-so-smart.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-5025096588609509058</guid><pubDate>Thu, 24 Apr 2008 01:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-04-24T12:07:12.364-05:00</atom:updated><title>What next?</title><description>I just read an article in the Star Tribune. I'm not sure why I read things like this but the headline intrigued me. The article talks about a British study that was done that shows what a women eats prior to getting pregnant can help determine the sex of her baby. What? I don't know about you but I don't believe that for a second. Why can't they put the money that goes into a study like this to help find a cure for cancer or some other horrible disease? I just don't get it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-5025096588609509058?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-next.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6372799056864786046.post-5337281981363827593</guid><pubDate>Tue, 22 Apr 2008 02:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-04-21T21:52:21.439-05:00</atom:updated><title>Spring is here!</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I finally think spring is here. Some true signs---&lt;br /&gt;1. The plants are starting to sprout through the ground.&lt;br /&gt;2. Convertibles driving with the top down.&lt;br /&gt;3. I actually went for a walk in shorts and a tee shirt&lt;br /&gt;4. I heard thunder tonight&lt;br /&gt;I am always reminded of the wonder of God when spring comes. It is a miracle how everything appears dead and almost overnight the world comes to life. I love that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6372799056864786046-5337281981363827593?l=careangel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://careangel.blogspot.com/2008/04/spring-is-here.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Careangel)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item></channel></rss>