tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91127025972387924212024-03-04T23:56:41.733-08:00Faith in God and CoffeeOne woman's journey through life, marriage, children and religion.Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-48660215580637472892013-02-28T09:42:00.000-08:002013-02-28T09:48:15.346-08:00Unfinished Business<br />
I am Unfinished Business. I really am.<br />
You'd be shocked if I told you how many projects I've started but never completed, how many times I said "I'm keeping that so I can use it to make _________" and never again even thought about it. How often I told my husband "Yeah I'll call so-and-so and take care of that!" or "I'm so upset, I'm going to write that company a letter!" Never happened. Never got done. Or how many times I swore I'd write out my testimony, back up my computer, or get together with a friend.<br />
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span class="fcg"><span class="fwb">Didyouknow</span></span></i></span></span></h5>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><i><abbr data-utime="1360296561" title="Thursday, February 7, 2013 at 8:09pm">February 7</abbr></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><i><span class="userContent">When
you tell someone a goal or thing you’re planning on doing, it
chemically satisfies your brain in a manner that’s similar to having
actually completed the goal. Source Video: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fdid-you-kno.tumblr.com%2F&h=QAQFZ_Y59&s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" target="_blank">http://did-you-kno.tumblr.com/</a></span></i></span></div>
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Sorry, ANYways.... <i>((that just took over 10 minutes to find that damn quote on Facebook, because I knew I'd seen it, but didn't know where. )) </i><br />
<br />
Right. Unfinished business. That's me. It's been a very roller-coaster year. I will explain... no there is too much, let me sum up. <br />
<br />
It's been almost 14 months since my Hysterectomy. I'm still on antidepressants.<br />
<br />
Da Boy's birth-father met and moved in with a woman and her 3 children in a different town, making it a huge pain in the ass regarding school and such. There were some issues with da boy being called names and being picked on by his new 'step-mother' (kind of, since they aren't married) but that seems to have cooled off since I confronted his birth-father about it.<br />
<br />
I finally met our next door neighbors, thanks to Da Boy and the neighbor's kid Alex. His mom is Kathy, and we've become very close. She is a huge blessing in my life, and I wouldn't trade her for the world.<br />
<br />
Sissy T and her man got married in early September. This was a good thing, but still rather stressful for me and Mr. Man. We are very happy for them.<br />
<br />
Later in September, my heart-dad Jack became suddenly very ill and I flew up to WA State to see him. He died the day before my birthday.<br />
<br />
In October, Sissy T and he new hubby moved in with us. They lived with us until the week before Christmas.<br />
<br />
On December 15th, Mr. Man and I renewed our vows and had our marriage blessed by our church and pastor. It was beautiful and magical, I have 11 pictures to prove it ;)<br />
<br />
My back has been getting worse and worse. I now spend most of my days in a wheelchair, with my cane handy at all times, since the chair doesn't fit through half of the doorways in this house (including the bathrooms!) I've been through just about every prescription pain medication there is, and have not found anything that really cuts the pain. The doctors don't know what to do, and the insurance won't approve anything the doctors suggest.<br />
<br />
Mr. Man and I have been skipping church, putting off get-togethers and basically just spending time together. I dislike going anywhere much, as it's a bitch to get the wheelchair in and out of the car, and then Mr. Man has to take care of everything and I detest the way people look at me. I am ashamed of my physical problems and I feel useless and pointless and like I'm just a hassle. I feel like I don't/ can't contribute anything positive to our life anymore. This has nothing to do with my husband - he is so good to me, and makes it all better when he's here. But when he's not ...it all comes flooding back.<br />
<br />
I try to pray. I try to push aside the demons and force myself to see the positive. It's not ALL bad, it's just hard for me to see the good. Today, I got an amazing letter from a friend, I want to share it with you....<br />
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<i>Hello there sweetie,</i><br />
<i>I was just
thinking about you this morning - thinking about how much pain you live
with and how hard it is to stay positive when you don't feel well. I
know that you try to focus on the blessings: your wonderful husband who
loves you, your adorable son, your salvation, your art. I want to
encourage you, but I don't know how. I want to make your pain go away
but I don't know how. I want to tell you that things will get better,
but I don't know that they will. </i><br />
<i>This one thing I can say. Your
life is important. Even though you are limited in what you are able to
do, God has not left you without a purpose. You have assignments. There
are certain people that only you can encourage and inspire. You reflect a
particular aspect of God's glory that no one else can. Your son is
learning how to worship, pray, and depend on God from YOU. </i><br />
<i>Don't
let the devil steal your hope. Don't let him draw you into self-pity.
Don't let him convince you to curl up in a ball and die. The kingdom
needs you, Miranda. We need your testimony. We need your courage. We
need your perseverance. There are so many who are suffering, who are
looking for heroes (and heroines). Champions of pain. People who suffer
well - who suffer like Jesus. </i><br />
<i>If you can't get out of bed, pray
for others! Pray for our church, our pastor, our leaders. Ask God who
you might call on the phone and encourage. Ask Him for specific
scriptures for people and then text it to them. Write to people on
facebook and ask them what they need prayer for. If you are able to sit
up and visit, invite someone to come and have a cup of tea with you.
There are so many who are lonely and need fellowship. When we are
hurting, the devil just loves to make us turn inward and feel useless.
One of the quickest ways to shake off his life-sucking tentacles is to
bless someone else! Give the devil a black eye! You ARE a blessing,
Miranda. You are a blessing.</i><br />
<i>I love you <span class="emoticon emoticon_heart"></span></i><br />
<i>G </i></div>
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<br />
This letter REALLY got to me. She spoke to my heart, without any knowledge of how I was feeling (we haven't talked in awhile) and she nailed it. I want to 'encourage and inspire'. I want to suffer like Jesus. I want to bless someone else. I just don't want to have to 'do' it. I guess the best way to put it is that I have no motivation to do anything other than stew in my own juices. So here's what I am GOING TO DO...(for real, I mean it)<br />
<br />
I am going to pray for people. I am going to pass on prayer requests on FB and I am going encourage the people who post them. I am going to type up my testimony here and then (oh god) I'm going to post THAT on FB as well. I am going to go to church on Sunday.<br />
<br />
It may not sound like much, but even just typing it out makes me shake. It also makes me feel determined. And scared. And a teeny bit brave.<br />
<br />
~M<br />
<br />
<img alt="" class="image_thumbnail enlarged" data-full-size="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8fym7KV5k1qk3ahmo1_500.jpg" data-height="294" data-thumbnail-height="109" data-thumbnail-width="150" data-thumbnail="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8fym7KV5k1qk3ahmo1_100.jpg" data-width="403" height="232" id="thumbnail_photo_28982256398" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8fym7KV5k1qk3ahmo1_500.jpg" style="background-color: transparent;" width="320" />Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-80671504381920394602012-04-19T09:17:00.000-07:002012-04-19T09:17:25.353-07:00Everybody dies alone.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a class="photoset_photo" href="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lw5qk4x1h91qjlctro6_250.gif" id="photoset_link_14909702727_6"><img alt="" src="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lw5qk4x1h91qjlctro6_250.gif" style="margin-top: -2px; width: 160px;" /></a></div><br />
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<br />
To my friend,<br />
<br />
I used to think we were special to eachother. I used to believe we'd be friends, real friends, maybe even best friends - forever. Now, we never talk. When we see eachother, sometimes you smile and say hi... but that's usually about it. You post about your "bff's" and "besties", pictures of you with your friends, while I sit here alone, so lonely, wondering why we aren't close anymore. Am I really that useless as a human, that I can't keep a friend? Every friend I've ever had has left me. The only friend I really have is my husband. He's the only one who hasn't given up on me, ever. Am I the person God picked to only have one true companion?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxwm536zIR1qldzeno1_400.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="image_thumbnail" height="97" id="thumbnail_photo_15956966581" src="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxwm536zIR1qldzeno1_400.gif" style="background-color: transparent;" width="150" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
I'm being ridiculous. I know I am. I have other friends ... friends that I've had for years. Friend's that I <i>know</i> will never leave me, will always be there - <i><b>have</b></i> always been there, regardless of anything. The only problem? They all live hundreds of miles away. And, even though I may call them my best friend(s), they have someone else they call <i>theirs</i>. And that's ok, I understand why and I'm alright with that. But why am I the only one, it seems, that has no one, besides my spouse, to fill that role? <br />
<br />
I know I'm dealing with some issues, and it's been a rough couple of years for me; physically and emotionally. I truly believe if I had a friend, living here close, someone I could talk to and share with and just.... be with, that it would have been easier. I think I would have recovered quicker, with less trouble. I honestly don't know what would have happened to me with Mr. Man in my life; to be my rock, my one support to lean on and help hold me together. I think I would have just given up. When I contemplate what my life these last few years would have been like without him, I realize that they wouldn't have been at all. I wouldn't have made it this far. I would have done myself in and been done with it.<br />
<br />
I suppose there is a silver lining to every cloud, a rainbow after ever rain. Sometimes it's very hard to see it, but regardless, it's there. I may not have you in my life anymore, not the way I'd like you to be, but I <i>do</i> have friends. And maybe, just <i>maybe </i>.. without losing you, I wouldn't have really realized that.<br />
<br />
~MMirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-27615287624421639892012-02-28T08:24:00.000-08:002012-02-28T08:24:00.448-08:00Made It Myself!Happy Tuesday folks! Today I wanted to show y'all something I made. Why? well, because I'm proud of it, and it makes me feel accomplished.<br />
<br />
Last week I started using Pinterest. I know, I know... but it's cool. It's like tumblr for real people (not just fangirls and freaks) and I found this really neat idea -<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_jFzWPzStQIqXFp_Zn0_ssfOs_c15kqTyWKk3KP_xaWm6AyAzmvPdwWvFwMCfhGGVbU8z6av7cTrNS3Ain9ZxDxHN4POL-ZZmR0W7GdufJ7GA00RNkx_hTTfNjqwbT7ZeKHHewQhyphenhyphen3i0/s1600/015text2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_jFzWPzStQIqXFp_Zn0_ssfOs_c15kqTyWKk3KP_xaWm6AyAzmvPdwWvFwMCfhGGVbU8z6av7cTrNS3Ain9ZxDxHN4POL-ZZmR0W7GdufJ7GA00RNkx_hTTfNjqwbT7ZeKHHewQhyphenhyphen3i0/s320/015text2.jpg" width="240" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> - a DIY rotating goals board! Wow, what an awesome idea ... I gotta try that! The original post is <a href="http://cornflowerbluestudio.blogspot.com/2012/02/diy-rotating-goal-list.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>. Well, I did. And I'll be honest here - I never do <i>anything </i>the way they say ya should, I have to do it <b>my </b>way. So, without further ado, I hereby present my very own Goals Board!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi22yxB246dIPOFj260a7qDcTtNJa1AP8TL-xyl9Ga6RQkRZe5Xdvkn70M22KHXM8aQOTx5rmVdjn71UKOwt8N7XtBjKOyGfpEJDIxjtqdpkGck908AsZAH58Wtf-pVAe9RyYtZ5wGWcHCx/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi22yxB246dIPOFj260a7qDcTtNJa1AP8TL-xyl9Ga6RQkRZe5Xdvkn70M22KHXM8aQOTx5rmVdjn71UKOwt8N7XtBjKOyGfpEJDIxjtqdpkGck908AsZAH58Wtf-pVAe9RyYtZ5wGWcHCx/s400/002.JPG" width="272" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Isn't it neat? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's what I did: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Post-it-Notes *hint: I pulled the post-it-note packs in half, so it wouldn't be too heavy for my cheap glue-stick work*, 2 pieces of paper for computer printouts (because as I'm sure you can see, I can't draw for my life) and (not quite 1/2) a black foam board from the Dollar Tree. Ruler, pencil and an Xacto knife and some really old, cheap glue sticks. A little bit of measuring and some yarn, and Viola! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Done and DONE.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">If you make one yourself, please post a link to a pic in my comments section - I'd love to see how you made it your own!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Enjoy Today and God Bless!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">~M</div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-38087119467704880952012-02-08T14:27:00.000-08:002012-02-08T14:27:26.878-08:00Quick, short and to the pointJust got back from my follow-up with Dr. W (who did my hysterectomy) All looks good, still not healed up but getting there. Another appt in 3 weeks.<br />
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Started taking Zoloft on Saturday 2/4/2012. Feeling alright, but already noticing some side effects that I don't love; jittery feeling, hair loss, headaches. But it's working well on the depression and that's ALL that matters.<br />
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So, I'm going to go pick up Da Boy from school and wait for Mr. Man to get home from work so I can finally be calm again. I'm beginning to realize that I don't like being home alone near as much as I used to - now I'm just lonely and jumpy and bored.Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-29539737223537350102012-02-01T14:23:00.000-08:002012-02-01T14:23:59.524-08:00I just want to forget.<div class="post_content" id="post_content_16882653985"> <div class="post_title"> I don't know... </div><div class="post_title"> </div><div class="post_title"> </div>…how much I’m going to be around the next several days - might be ‘not at all’ might be ‘all the time’. I’m really struggling with some stuff and Facebook (anyone surprised here?) just really screwed my mind up. One of my ‘Christian’ friends (who has been unfriend-ed, I know it’s rude, but really I couldn’t help it) posted a picture… God, I don’t even know if I can bear to explain or type it out…. of an aborted baby, bloody, horrible, dead.<br />
<br />
I just had a hysterectomy. They removed my uterus. My husband and I have been trying to get pregnant for almost 4 years, unsuccessfully, because of severe endometriosis and adenomyosis. I am struggling very hard with my emotions and feelings because of this. I have not been able to cook raw meat, and I've barely been able to eat beef since I came home from the hospital. It grosses me out and makes me sick. Then about 30 minutes ago I saw the above stated post on facebook.<br />
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My depression is getting worse, I’m taking more pain pills than usual because I’m hurting more, but I’m not sure if those two things are actually connected or not. I’ll NOT be on FB for awhile, that I can tell you - but I don’t know about here or my tumblr.<br />
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I need to paint. I’ve started a new painting, but I’m hesitant to show it online because 99% of the time my paintings get ignored, and I honestly don’t think I can deal with that right now on top of everything else.<br />
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How do you unsee something? I need to know if there actually is a way. I have finally stopped crying and only threw up once...so much for that casadilla . I feel like I’m dying on the inside and I don’t know how to stop. I feel so very very alone right now. And broken. I can’t smile about anything. I feel like I don’t even want to breathe, but my body makes me.<br />
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Pray for me? Think happy thoughts for me? Something, anything. Just…. I don’t know. I want to say “whatever, fuck it, I just need to move on” but I can’t, I don’t know how. I don’t even know how to get this stuff out of my head, off my mind. I just keep seeing it over and over and over.<br />
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Anyway … there it is. I wasn’t planning on really getting into it, but I guess I did - someone will probably say “it’s good for you get it out”… just so you know. Thank you for taking the time to read this (if anyone does) and I hope you have a good rest of your day. <br />
<br />
p.s. Unless you are Mr. Man, please don't call or text me today. I probably won't answer, I just really don't want to talk about it. I just want to go pick up Da Boy from school and hug him forever until I stop feeling like this. Also, If this IS Mr. Man reading this, I'll call you when we get home, but can we please not talk about this part? Thanks and I love you soooo much. I miss you and I wish you could come home. I'll be waiting for you when you get off work. <br />
<br />
~Mira<br />
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</div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-72818261356533097712012-01-31T08:30:00.000-08:002012-01-31T08:30:00.680-08:00ConfessionsOn my mind,top 10 confessions:<br />
<br />
((meme seen on tumblr))<br />
<br />
1. I love the shows Sherlock, Merlin, and The Big Bang Theory.<br />
2. I smoke too much.<br />
3. I'm realizing that I'm becoming more depressed, more often.<br />
4. I seek approval. For everything.<br />
5. I am not a cutter, but when I stress or get very low, I pull hairs out from my scalp.<br />
6. I'm scared that I'll never be able to eat red meat again.<br />
7. For the last 3 minutes, I've been trying to talk myself out of publishing this specific post.<br />
8. I hate my smile, because my teeth are bad and it's disgusting.<br />
9. I eat way too many sunflower seeds.<br />
10. I think my husband is amazingly handsome (among many other incredible things). I honestly fangirl over his cheekbones and eyes. I can't believe he picked me. I still don't really know why he did.Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-28454770956568697972012-01-30T10:00:00.000-08:002012-01-30T10:00:06.704-08:00Maybe I really am going crazyI think I wouldn't mind if I never left the house again. Although, I wonder how long it would be before someone noticed (besides Mr. Man and DaBoy) I could listen to church online, update my FB status with thoughts on the sermon, share antidotes about daily life, and I doubt anyone would know the difference.<br />
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I mean, except me.<br />
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<br />
I don't mind going to Walmart, or maybe out for some Keno, or even Quizno's. But going places where I know people.... yeah I think I'm ok not doing that anymore. I'm sick of the pretending, <i>"How do I feel? <strike>Like I ought to be swinging from my neck in the shower</strike> I'm doin' alright, better all the time, you?"</i> the fake smiles, the little social lies <i>"Oh we need to get together! Let's have lunch"</i> (we ain't never havin' lunch, and you damn well know it) and all the rest.<br />
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I'm pretty sure I could pull it off. Well, just as long as no one ever came to the house looking for me. ;)<br />
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<a class="photoset_photo" href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lykdqvLijC1qhi7zqo10_r1_250.gif" id="photoset_link_16697964634_6"><img alt="" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lykdqvLijC1qhi7zqo10_r1_250.gif" style="width: 245px;" /></a>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-78668112220811944312012-01-24T09:16:00.000-08:002012-01-24T09:16:08.641-08:00I don't wanna talk about it.But it seems like I have to. I've been putting it off. I'd rather just talk about my latest obsession; the BBC shows "Merlin" and "Sherlock", or tell you about how my Pastor hates <span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">"fish-breathed, fur ball vomiting house cats" (yes, that is a direct quote) or maybe about how long my hair is now, or something cute about Da Boy. But no .. it's time I get this off my .... well, chest ain't the right word... Soul? Heart? Mind? </span><br />
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<span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">On January 9th, I had a hysterectomy. They took my uterus, left my ovaries, and burned off the Endometriosis. <---- That word right there just echos in my head everytime I say it or think it. ENDO....ENDo...ENdo...Endo...endo......</span><br />
<span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">I am still recovering. Well, my body is recovering. Me, I'm not so sure about. </span><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text"> </span>"You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body." ♥ - C.S. Lewis (quoted from a friend on facebook) </blockquote><br />
My body is recovering, quite nicely I think. My weight is down (how the hell much can an empty uterus weigh?!) to 124. My incisions are glued (they only did stitches on the inside) and although they sometimes still are painful, it's nothing I can't handle. I still am having a hard time bending down or walking very far (or fast) but hell, with my back that's nothing I'm not used to. I'm going to leave the rest out; and put it down as T.M.I. (trust me on this one, I feel bad enough that I've already told Mr. Man about so much).<br />
<br />
The 'me' inside though - is changed - more than the physical; the scars, the pain, the bleeding, the bullshit. A small example of what I mean....<br />
<br />
Last night, I cooked dinner. Simple, easy, no big thing, Hamburger Helper Stroganoff. As I dumped the raw ground beef into the pan to brown it, I couldn't help but see the red, the uncooked, the raw ... the meat. All I could think about was my missing uterus. <i>Where is it? What did they do with it? Stop Miranda (</i>I said in my head<i>) It's a COW, for Christ's sake! </i><i>Yes, <u>this</u> is a cow... you're right. Cows are girls, oh my god, what if there is cow uterus in here??! Knock it off! You are just making it worse, just cook the fucking meat and get it brown!</i> I turned up the heat. Cooked it faster. It turned brown, looked just like hamburger (like what the hell else should it look like?!). No problemo. I pulled myself together and continued cooking. Served dinner and sat down to eat. Mr. Man and I prayed and as I took the first forkful into my mouth, I couldn't imagine that this was beef. <b>I</b> <b>knew it was</b>, but I couldn't accept it. Couldn't make myself believe it. <br />
<br />
<i> Oh holy fuck I can't eat this!!!</i><br />
<br />
I tried. I really did, but after a few more bites, I pushed aside my plate and ate my french bread slice.<br />
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<br />
It's that kind of thing that sneaks up on me, unawares, and bites me in the brain. And now, even as I type these letters to close my entry, I can't stop thinking about that meat. And here I was, so proud of myself for chatting nicely with that (very) pregnant lady we saw last night (I even smiled) asking her when she is due, and did she know if it was a boy or a girl. (April 23rd, a girl, to be named Brooklyn Savannah)<br />
<br />
...now do you see why I didn't wanna talk about it?<br />
<br />
~MMirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-10045913580681216692012-01-06T13:46:00.000-08:002012-01-06T13:46:10.770-08:00A quick summary...Just to update you what's going on, since I still haven't really found time to do a nice big blog about it all (well, that and I can't think of how to start) I'll sum up..<br />
<br />
Da Boy is now with us 1 week at a time. 1 here, 1 there, repeat. Also, his biological father moved about an hour away, which makes getting Da Boy to school on time <i>rather </i>difficult.<br />
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Sissy T is getting married. In September. To a boy we haven't met. Yeah.<br />
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I have been diagnosed with Endo. Now, I have to have a hysterectomy. On Monday (no joke) And I'm scared. A Lot. So much for almost 4 years of trying to get pregnant. To be honest, I can't even form sentences about how I feel emotionally about this subject.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ls6b9ay8tD1qll72ro1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="image_thumbnail" height="200" id="thumbnail_photo_12158601747" src="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ls6b9ay8tD1qll72ro1_400.jpg" style="background-color: transparent;" width="150" /></a></div><br />
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We started going to a new church. Full of wonderful people. Now the people at our old church barely speak to us and I feel like they don't want to be friends with us anymore.<br />
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I've been painting, and crocheting, and spending WAY too much time looking at Tumblr browsing #Merlin.<br />
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Mr. Man has been diagnosed with functional dyspepsia. Only problem is, the meds seem worse than the disease. Now he's having chest pains and tingling in his hands and feet. And I'm scared. A lot. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i266.photobucket.com/albums/ii256/hpfan_8890/Gif%20Folder/Merlin/Merlincrying2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="161" src="http://i266.photobucket.com/albums/ii256/hpfan_8890/Gif%20Folder/Merlin/Merlincrying2.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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However....<br />
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<br />
I got a new camera for Christmas ... no joke, I don't think I've ever been so excited. It's a Canon, with a separate lens. Sheeeaaahhh!<br />
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Ok, that'll have to do for now. Da Boy leaves in an hour and I've gotta get his stuff together. Ciao for now, I will try to post more later today.<br />
~MMirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-77580140697121598492012-01-05T12:23:00.000-08:002012-01-05T12:23:16.836-08:00Welcome Once AgainYou don't have to read this. I give you permission right now to close the page. I give you free reign over the comment box, and <u>I PROMISE I will NOT get upset if you don't use that box</u>. I am done trying to please everyone, and by proxy be pleased. I've learned that that isn't reasonable and it's also ridiculous. I'm a big girl now, and I can handle it. This is NOT going to be an Art Blog, nor yet and Crafting Blog, or even a Mommy Blog. This is Miranda's blog. What I post may not make any sense to you, but you aren't Miranda (and if you are, well, the hell with you, you aren't the <i>right </i>Miranda ;)) <br />
<br />
I've been spending a lot of time thinking lately, but not a lot of action has come from it. Mind you, a lot of things are going on (and I mean a LOT) and things are changing ... hell, my whole LIFE is changing. Anyway, I digress (for the moment) to tell you the reason this post showed up in your email/blog roll/reading list/thingy.<br />
<br />
It's 2012 and since so many things are changing in my life, I need a place I can put it all down, in my own words and be able to not only document, but to review at a later date; (some of) the events of my life. <br />
<br />
Take it or leave it. This is for me and those that love me. If you love me (or even kinda like me) I would be honored and thankful if you <i>did </i>read it. HOWEVER, please don't feel obligated to do so - this is neither the time nor the place for it.<br />
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I will post again later today if I have time, but for now I must go, it's lunch time and I'm hungry. I am going to try and post something, even if it's short and stupid, at least 4-5 times a week. I may screw that up, but I'm the only one who that will matter to, and I'm ok with it ;)<br />
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God Bless and stay strong. Enjoy your coffee. Know that you are loved, regardless.<br />
~MirandaMirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-62470273480034366892011-09-26T11:57:00.000-07:002011-09-26T11:57:57.976-07:00Freedom Flowers<div style="text-align: center;"><strong>~*~Freedom Flowers~*~</strong></div><strong><br />
</strong><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div> </div><div style="text-align: center;">Crocheted hair flower (small alligator clip on back) with and without center puff.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">I will be making hair flowers such as this (also different colors/designs) and selling them to help support the outreach program and food pantry at Freedom Church in Carson City, NV!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinBDDFzUdatk5dFwRzA3mgHF5UnJdVHvXS1-J58mwcisJ6-7fAqfuThKkUFWY4EeEmoKdxEhv5APbqKJohT2LRaayluedCJ2WMWWkLrZaadl51G42g9ziCRqjJjdGh9GvQE917iPkz955l/s1600/100_4889.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinBDDFzUdatk5dFwRzA3mgHF5UnJdVHvXS1-J58mwcisJ6-7fAqfuThKkUFWY4EeEmoKdxEhv5APbqKJohT2LRaayluedCJ2WMWWkLrZaadl51G42g9ziCRqjJjdGh9GvQE917iPkz955l/s320/100_4889.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44NUTIQ_BJ8yv7eY4mQNStU9Jgj3bAvUxFrs5P1Jnezd-VosI7ZFSCsBQa8uRjF1G7-N3OXJIt4CR6gap31Ms8YZdFeBKhFCdQE8AZgsnm3uuJy5qBQrnuhi3eOYHMoaowyVg1H47HNTn/s1600/100_4893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44NUTIQ_BJ8yv7eY4mQNStU9Jgj3bAvUxFrs5P1Jnezd-VosI7ZFSCsBQa8uRjF1G7-N3OXJIt4CR6gap31Ms8YZdFeBKhFCdQE8AZgsnm3uuJy5qBQrnuhi3eOYHMoaowyVg1H47HNTn/s320/100_4893.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLyXc0FujPt-9PWLeUEyfZlACei322ziMT4LnUYsa1FM71FXmHR5mJvT6PbnV8vfHwAXasIm5hAfVbsZy7Bg8_GSzwbhoAh8tqsVA871UcZIH3683G33_7D81PkDWWeAHidHw5kkd-To-Q/s1600/100_4894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLyXc0FujPt-9PWLeUEyfZlACei322ziMT4LnUYsa1FM71FXmHR5mJvT6PbnV8vfHwAXasIm5hAfVbsZy7Bg8_GSzwbhoAh8tqsVA871UcZIH3683G33_7D81PkDWWeAHidHw5kkd-To-Q/s320/100_4894.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNPriYoFfh8m8GC6lfxneXMpcpyG_qTLJ_61uBmbFXd3SS6q_bhGIbfRopKukXFmT2gwTPXF-cO034Yfxul8QqyyKuJI7-1MbvIBywPEONpuxYKu5X-TlNApSi3Nye6ntObW6l8UsdboAD/s1600/100_4900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNPriYoFfh8m8GC6lfxneXMpcpyG_qTLJ_61uBmbFXd3SS6q_bhGIbfRopKukXFmT2gwTPXF-cO034Yfxul8QqyyKuJI7-1MbvIBywPEONpuxYKu5X-TlNApSi3Nye6ntObW6l8UsdboAD/s320/100_4900.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFR4tbbznEaN9WHljwhgGSYCxq8p445JYNPaX2FK7ck-Df881vHiPL36Hysx3pyxsje0CpYxlJVvsqQAhuaM9eODkclA8A7cqXXY5IgXn1ERkkYRdb6f8JrJ8KWEjFOK2q5dsXFxUlUd42/s1600/100_4910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFR4tbbznEaN9WHljwhgGSYCxq8p445JYNPaX2FK7ck-Df881vHiPL36Hysx3pyxsje0CpYxlJVvsqQAhuaM9eODkclA8A7cqXXY5IgXn1ERkkYRdb6f8JrJ8KWEjFOK2q5dsXFxUlUd42/s320/100_4910.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
If you are interested in purchasing one or more of these flower clips before I am able to put them for sale on Etsy, please contact me at sweetpea.miranda@gmail.com - Thank you!!<br />
~Miranda MangiapeloMirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-27982485344596397152011-06-16T09:20:00.000-07:002011-06-16T09:20:17.416-07:00No one ever called me Betty Crocker<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">Well it's just the truth, ya know? <i> </i></span></span></b></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><i> (make sure to click the pictures to see them bigger!)</i></span></span></h6><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">My Grandmother, yes, absolutely - the woman could cook <i>anything</i>! My Mom was the same way, I even have some of her handwritten recipes (not that I can really read them, but that's not the point) </span></span></h6><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FZJhIcgmYOY9jSFfSG2X2b-UhL4Hbch37N_SZn-kNPkGHsPhfRzwgPFHEQtVgRonaqFh6B4oT9M3Xf9h6if9iCdWz-CtMkJiiHqJ59eK7vl84k40bkvDaZ_5tpozgnr8xpQKhlK9cic9/s1600/100_4405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FZJhIcgmYOY9jSFfSG2X2b-UhL4Hbch37N_SZn-kNPkGHsPhfRzwgPFHEQtVgRonaqFh6B4oT9M3Xf9h6if9iCdWz-CtMkJiiHqJ59eK7vl84k40bkvDaZ_5tpozgnr8xpQKhlK9cic9/s200/100_4405.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg253ZE08mj5bd-vG80wW2PFkRYmmaUknKGGtk7K5jnrJ77P9em3B9mUKweLCi3I1_7Jx6z5qwoZC1kA7-uQYgyAC10HJG-HHfaY9oMRsVJN3TgydXlCQ8KgLeNG-jijB5CmpJmbSejFjkK/s1600/100_4406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg253ZE08mj5bd-vG80wW2PFkRYmmaUknKGGtk7K5jnrJ77P9em3B9mUKweLCi3I1_7Jx6z5qwoZC1kA7-uQYgyAC10HJG-HHfaY9oMRsVJN3TgydXlCQ8KgLeNG-jijB5CmpJmbSejFjkK/s200/100_4406.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><i> (Mom and I making biscuits) (Mom's recipes)</i></span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><i> </i></span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">My Aunt can cook very well, my friends can heat up the kitchen (A la Princessa!) but me? I could heat it up, but you'd probably need a fire extinguisher by the time I was done. </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"> No, no (<i>I can hear you Wendy and Chris</i>) I'm not giving myself enough credit. That is what this blog post is for...</span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">So after <strike>what seems like years</strike> weeks of ....</span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">Mon: hamburger patties </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">Tue: chicken breasts </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">Wed: frozen pasta bowls </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">Thu: repeat</span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">Mr. Man and I have decided to start "trying new things" as far as meals go. So, I broke out the cook book and we started looking through it.</span></span></h6><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tc9q2Fw9jBFAXvGoyqo9yMKvVSS-yGdYm-UyKrqUTf7xs8ThJnLc9yiiaOXywvHh65A81Qh0TLR7D7sw8DqKcwn45T-p4CTD0rD-zOef7mEHt5lBTTdXssw9G7851kE8a_5167sIT7Y1/s1600/100_4407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tc9q2Fw9jBFAXvGoyqo9yMKvVSS-yGdYm-UyKrqUTf7xs8ThJnLc9yiiaOXywvHh65A81Qh0TLR7D7sw8DqKcwn45T-p4CTD0rD-zOef7mEHt5lBTTdXssw9G7851kE8a_5167sIT7Y1/s320/100_4407.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"> </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"> So far we've tried TWO new recipes this week and both were home-runs! </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><br />
</span></span></h6><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEKBKq-hibmpJlDcX2FkAJYxRS3uRAPUhtOvSgu98j-bur4hjlEA4sQfVZ36f_q65kXE-WmSQttgjd2j-IReR8bNFNx-w6l3ziFSaoVj5Ct87MNdAUy0B1c1O3c0oY8-TOcHv7Eabd9Hc1/s1600/100_4411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEKBKq-hibmpJlDcX2FkAJYxRS3uRAPUhtOvSgu98j-bur4hjlEA4sQfVZ36f_q65kXE-WmSQttgjd2j-IReR8bNFNx-w6l3ziFSaoVj5Ct87MNdAUy0B1c1O3c0oY8-TOcHv7Eabd9Hc1/s200/100_4411.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0uodusTqoo964IQoVY49oPuHFM4wquoryrJtUW2_8P03c7VdJt10U02mCSnJCf-enJrT6e1RheSlcmvnkqLA-dV1rkjejFtG_4RqbtBQfrKu5HMIY2P8GyRIoF214wfFGPmWngbuUZId/s1600/100_4410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0uodusTqoo964IQoVY49oPuHFM4wquoryrJtUW2_8P03c7VdJt10U02mCSnJCf-enJrT6e1RheSlcmvnkqLA-dV1rkjejFtG_4RqbtBQfrKu5HMIY2P8GyRIoF214wfFGPmWngbuUZId/s200/100_4410.JPG" width="143" /></a></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"> <span style="font-size: small;">And, all though I didn't get any pictures of the Pepper-Lime Chicken, I <i>did </i>manage a few of the ribs! I made the sauce (changed it, there was just no way I was going to put 2 frickin teaspoons of chili powder in there!), Mr. Man did the grillin', and even Da Boy joined in and "painted" the ribs with our sauce! </span></span></h6><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio4uOQy31w1zHoXA2I24wc8ChTvRftuZpoUYFq4nQQAdpjoT4da0sQVR3rd7S0gXZQ3oeWcAoP-EObpQZvuG8ehyphenhyphen9nCiMcG1KVbip2NP8A9CxG03kO9efQ8wCpE_qH_N4KhoOq__bHLE73/s1600/100_4393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio4uOQy31w1zHoXA2I24wc8ChTvRftuZpoUYFq4nQQAdpjoT4da0sQVR3rd7S0gXZQ3oeWcAoP-EObpQZvuG8ehyphenhyphen9nCiMcG1KVbip2NP8A9CxG03kO9efQ8wCpE_qH_N4KhoOq__bHLE73/s320/100_4393.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span style="font-size: small;"> (I still think ours look better than the book's picture of the ribs!) Anyways ... we've picked out a ton of other recipes from the book, and <strike>if I remember</strike> I'll post about how those turn out too! I may not be Betty Crocker, but at least the boys and I won't starve ;)</span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span style="font-size: small;">~M </span></span></h6>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-31413688514517799412011-06-02T08:29:00.000-07:002011-06-02T08:29:21.709-07:00Today sucks.Just like it has for the last 16 years. Of course the very first June 2nd that meant anything to me was WAY over the top of Suck-ass Mountain, but of course, when you’re 15, death of a parent is always harder.<br />
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My Dad was a great guy… liked by many and deeply loved by those that loved him. He was tall and strong and funny. He knew Karate. He loved to dance and listen to music. He could knock it out of the park when it came to one-liners. He loved his daughter.<br />
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Now he’s gone. Does he know he has a grandson that looks so much like him, sometimes I can’t believe my eyes? Does he know that I finally found the guy I was meant to be with? Does he know that I’m loved, safe, protected, and happy? Does he know that I can’t believe I ever got this far without him? Does he know that I still need him, love him, miss him, hate him for leaving me without him?Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-88000130431012649012011-04-22T08:37:00.000-07:002011-04-22T08:37:08.747-07:00Good Friday? Rant...I love how, as a Christian, I am expected to allow people to walk all over me. To say things that hurt me, piss me off, or demean me - but I'm not allowed to 'get my feelings hurt' 'get pissed off' or say anything back to them. I'm just supposed to let it go, smile, and pretend that they aren't total idiots (therefore proving myself to be one). Gee, thanks for that.<br />
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Why is that? I'm beginning to hate facebook because of this. People seem bent on saying things on there that not only are rude, crude, and otherwise <b>totally</b> unacceptable, yet somehow if I contradict them in any manner, <i>I'm the bad guy</i>!! WTF?! Seriously ... I'm really done with people thinking I don't care if they tell me abortion is right, gay marriage is cool, or giving birth in hospitals is bad (and I'm pretty sure this includes breast feeding too, OMW). <br />
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Yes, I know .. calm down Miranda. It's Good Friday, think about the sacrifice that Christ made for you - don't downplay it by getting all worked up over something that isn't worth it. But you know what? This isn't just about today .. <u>this shit happens all the time</u>, and I'm <i>finally </i>fed up. I believe it's time to sever some connections, clean up the mess, get rid of the problem. Burn those bridges that lead to harmful and scary places. I'm afraid to, though. I'm afraid because I know that I will be the 'bitch' for doing it - I don't want to lose friends .. I don't have enough to be losing. But is it worth keeping these friendships - and the cost of my emotional balance, my inner peace? My stress levels are through the roof, and everytime I get upset like this, ya know what happens next? I can guarantee that within 24 hours my back will be out, with shooting pains down my legs and a migraine, and I'll be hurting again, not just emotionally, but physically. <br />
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I'll end up being a pariah on FB to those people. And not just FB, but a number of other sites, where we all connect. Is it worth it; to maybe be cast away from my other friends because of these few people that are making me crazy? Am I the one in the wrong here? I don't know .. I'm sure some people reading this are laughing because this is all my own fault and here I am bitching about it and blaming others. I know that I have a hand in this, I realize that. I have my own issues that I have to deal with and part of that is just that I see these people with things that I wish to have, that don't treasure them. They have this most wonderful treasure and they do nothing but complain and gripe and treat it like it doesn't mean anything - yet I would give anything for the blessing they have.<br />
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I'm not sure what to do right now .. ranting about it has helped a little, but now it's time to act on it. What to do - sever the ties and move on, or smile and plot their deaths in my head?Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-20812983739807342112011-03-25T08:28:00.000-07:002011-03-25T08:28:48.952-07:00100 Day Challenge - Day 4Day 04 - A picture of something you'd like to do again.<br />
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I spent 13 months working a cattle ranch in Nevada when I was in my teens, damn, I miss it. And no, not just "horseback riding"... I miss it all, the horses, the smell of sage and cattle, the wind through your hair, tugging on your hat, the feel of the leather chaps and the rush of the earth flying past as you and your horse become one, loping through the valleys.Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-23063373847547617242011-03-17T13:21:00.001-07:002011-03-17T13:21:54.064-07:00100 Day Challenge - Day 3<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody"> </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody">Day 03 - A picture of the cast from your favorite show.<br />
NCIS - no doubt about it!</span></span></h6><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_tL0t8Fdn2gH3-8pooSAkDQoe-xyh4ileJBS_abfiw90ZvereQczFY4TQTlFg9sHQF9Z63ft9h5GS0IKDf5lzaNGSAIZ2Z-b0h10rWgj4X6eeQaf-BdXfqSmpVlXGgAwo48R9plbWY5W/s1600/ncis1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_tL0t8Fdn2gH3-8pooSAkDQoe-xyh4ileJBS_abfiw90ZvereQczFY4TQTlFg9sHQF9Z63ft9h5GS0IKDf5lzaNGSAIZ2Z-b0h10rWgj4X6eeQaf-BdXfqSmpVlXGgAwo48R9plbWY5W/s320/ncis1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><br />
</h6>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-53927006694339150552011-03-16T09:02:00.000-07:002011-03-16T09:02:48.898-07:00100 Day Challenge - Day 2Day 02 - A picture of you and a person you have been close with for awhile.<br />
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Joanna Mahan and I - June 2010. We've been friends for 11 years.Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-45764445902111700992011-03-16T08:58:00.000-07:002011-03-16T09:04:46.115-07:00100 Day Challenge - Day 1Day 1 - A picture of yourself and 15 facts about yourself.<br />
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FACTS<br />
1. I am married to the other half of my soul<br />
2. I am a mom<br />
3. I dropped out of HS and got my GED at 17<br />
4. I dislike my smile<br />
5. I am left handed<br />
6. I was born in '79<br />
7. I have been an orphan for 4 years<br />
8. I am addicted to coffee and cigarettes<br />
9. I have never been outside the US<br />
10. I have a degenerative back disease.<br />
11. I hate this picture<br />
12. I trust in God<br />
13. I have some really great friends - that I've never met.<br />
14. I have only broken 1 bone in my body<br />
15. I hate surveys and stuff like this.<br />
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</div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-25829051549542483472011-03-16T08:55:00.000-07:002011-03-16T08:58:56.659-07:00100 Day ChallengeI will not be doing these everyday - I will take my time and do them when I want to, but as close to "daily" as I can. I am also posting these on FB!<br />
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Day 01 - A picture of yourself with fifteen facts.<br />
Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been close with for awhile.<br />
Day 03 - A picture of the cast from your favorite show.<br />
Day 04 - A picture of something you'd like to do again.<br />
Day 05 - A picture of your favorite memory.<br />
Day 06 - A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day.<br />
Day 07 - A picture of your most treasured item.<br />
Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh.<br />
Day 09 - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most.<br />
Day 10 - A picture of the person you do the most fucked up things with.<br />
Day 11 - A picture of something you hate.<br />
Day 12 - A picture of something you love.<br />
Day 13 - A picture of your favorite band or artist.<br />
Day 14 - A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without.<br />
Day 15 - A picture of something you want to do before you die.<br />
Day 16 - A picture of someone who inspires you.<br />
Day 17 - A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently.<br />
Day 18 - A picture of your biggest insecurity.<br />
Day 19 - A picture of you when you were little.<br />
Day 20 - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel.<br />
Day 21 - A picture of something you wish you could forget.<br />
Day 22 - A picture of something you wish you were better at.<br />
Day 23 - A picture of your favorite book.<br />
Day 24 - A picture of something you wish you could change.<br />
Day 25 - A picture of your day.<br />
Day 26 - A picture of something that means a lot to you.<br />
Day 27 - A picture of yourself and a family member.<br />
Day 28 - A picture of something you're afraid of.<br />
Day 29 - A picture that can always make you smile.<br />
Day 30 - A picture of someone you miss.<br />
Day 31 - A picture of a tradition you have.<br />
Day 32 - A picture of a crazy night.<br />
Day 33 - A picture of the house you grew up in.<br />
Day 34 - A picture of your currently most played CD.<br />
Day 35 - A picture of your favorite place to eat.<br />
Day 36 - A picture of your ‘other half'.<br />
Day 37 - A picture of the people you spend most of your time with.<br />
Day 38 - A picture of the best part of your day.<br />
Day 39 - A picture of your favorite movie.<br />
Day 40 - A picture of your favorite Disney character.<br />
Day 41 - A picture of your pet.<br />
Day 42 - A picture of your dream house.<br />
Day 43 - A picture of something you can’t function without.<br />
Day 44 - A picture of someone you’re told you look like.<br />
Day 45 - A picture of your room.<br />
Day 46 - A picture of where you wish you were right now.<br />
Day 47 - A picture of your favorite place to shop.<br />
Day 48 - A picture of your favorite actress/actor.<br />
Day 49 - A picture of where you live.<br />
Day 50 - A picture of your most frequented place.<br />
Day 51 - A picture of your dream car.<br />
Day 52 - A picture of your favorite sport.<br />
Day 53 - A picture of someone you think is hot.<br />
Day 54 - A picture of the one thing you would bring if you <br />
were stranded on a deserted island.<br />
Day 55 - A picture of the last movie you saw in theaters.<br />
Day 56 - A picture of something that makes you happy.<br />
Day 57 - A picture of your favorite holiday.<br />
Day 58 - A picture of your favorite animal.<br />
Day 59 - A picture of a random item that you own.<br />
Day 60 - A picture of your pet.<br />
Day 61 - School class picture<br />
Day 62 - Last place you traveled to<br />
Day 63 - An Award or Certificate you've received<br />
Day 64 - Favorite childhood book<br />
Day 65 - A picture of you and your best friend<br />
Day 66 - A picture in your room<br />
Day 67 - Something Green<br />
Day 68 - A magazine you like<br />
Day 69 - Something Red<br />
Day 70 - Something you borrowed from someone else<br />
Day 71 - A picture of your favorite piece of jewelry <br />
Day 72 - A stuffed animal<br />
Day 73 - Your lunch<br />
Day 74 - Something you found under your bed<br />
Day 75 - You and a friend<br />
Day 76 - Something that annoys you<br />
Day 77 - The last thing that you bought<br />
Day 78 - Your sunglasses<br />
Day 79 - A ticket from somewhere you've been<br />
Day 80 - Your favorite childhood movie<br />
Day 81 - Something you baked<br />
Day 82 - The most embarrassing thing in your closet<br />
Day 83 - The moon tonight<br />
Day 84 - Your favorite pair of shorts<br />
Day 85 - Something Pink<br />
Day 86 - Something your mom bought you<br />
Day 87 - Something you hold dear to your heart<br />
Day 88 - Your bathroom<br />
Day 89 - What's in your fridge?<br />
Day 90 - Your latest drawing/art/craft.<br />
Day 91 - Something that made you smile today<br />
Day 92 - Something weird in your house<br />
Day 93 - The view from your bedroom window<br />
Day 94 - What your doing right now<br />
Day 95 - Something yellow<br />
Day 96 - A place you went today<br />
Day 97 - Something heart shaped<br />
Day 98 - Your favorite nail polish color<br />
Day 99 - Something that makes you feel accomplished<br />
Day 100 - The final picture of yourselfMirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-7795299609594773842010-07-09T14:59:00.000-07:002010-07-09T15:01:08.350-07:00Mirapelo ArtSo, I've finally opened up shop on Etsy. I'm both thrilled and terrified by the prospect of complete strangers seeing my artwork, but it's what I feel is the best way to begin this part of the Journey.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/Mirapelo" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="50" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqcg6zB6lD4z1cTipcZVTnpIfPtic5AlrW0O63bFqyG5_4gnvYrn_WxyzNLL05m-zWd8nLskkxx14sA744HA878eI7fgvN9zHxAxxFqVqgUbUbGCMG_yfkLPThUlQJv36MDBHF4pyDQM8z/s400/etsy2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I seriously don't know what I'm doing; the painting, the shop, all of it - I'm going in blind, but I'm not alone. I'm backed up by my Father, supported on both sides by my husband and son, and cheered for on the sidelines by my friends. Now, if only I could scavenge a bit of confidence in myself...Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-63734791766404854582010-07-07T08:41:00.000-07:002010-07-07T08:41:52.029-07:00I'm running out of canvases!Help, help!! I'm out of canvas and I've still got paint on my brush!<br />
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Seriously though... it's kind of true. I've got two more paintings ready to sell, a third on the easel for Da Boy that's at halfway and only 2 canvases left. I'm almost afraid to use them, in case I get commissioned for a piece. Although, it's highly doubtful that would happen, considering it hasn't yet, but hey - ya never know!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Here are my latest paintings. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyUrG_CIpeVErNAFCcZp1GPS-OYGzt6gy3KZ4DkOwTZYXSshx5eePcLgVdmT5TUQfo0nXHYr506aHJApE58B3i-H_8CjeLWb3-B7uGpesp_2PV5tFRfMwBzXD08GfXIIuJoh87Yd3DOIAj/s1600/100_2951fb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyUrG_CIpeVErNAFCcZp1GPS-OYGzt6gy3KZ4DkOwTZYXSshx5eePcLgVdmT5TUQfo0nXHYr506aHJApE58B3i-H_8CjeLWb3-B7uGpesp_2PV5tFRfMwBzXD08GfXIIuJoh87Yd3DOIAj/s320/100_2951fb.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Butterfly Heaven</div><div style="text-align: center;">9"x9" acrylics on canvas</div><div style="text-align: center;">For Sale: $50</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5HaUIAnlFpiVnPD0WxE3IzAN8jmoYT6sr1AkY4I1b_E2Laa5-5sXyg9okMAl1d3Wb_5omn1MOXYImU04X7uRh0kofax4mcLNUsoLfgheUQcUu92h6ShhXe_HwO7gdW0qw8GrRBMj5vu7d/s1600/100_2954fb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5HaUIAnlFpiVnPD0WxE3IzAN8jmoYT6sr1AkY4I1b_E2Laa5-5sXyg9okMAl1d3Wb_5omn1MOXYImU04X7uRh0kofax4mcLNUsoLfgheUQcUu92h6ShhXe_HwO7gdW0qw8GrRBMj5vu7d/s320/100_2954fb.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Salvation is Here</div><div style="text-align: center;">16"x20" acrylics on canvas</div><div style="text-align: center;">for sale: $125</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-1728079491913198212010-07-02T10:13:00.000-07:002010-07-02T10:13:04.672-07:00There is paint on my heartI've started painting again. Well, I don't know if 'again' is really the word. I started painting about two years ago, but I only did one picture and ended up hating it. It's been hanging in my bathroom since then, and I despair every time I see it. I have been told it's <i>not that bad</i> and <i>it's kinda cool with the texture in the background</i> and for the most part I agree, it's just that I know I could have done it better, but I didn't even try.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLCmOOaR3wmuqWlVM1G9ea3Q3mXjsHG4JETjghzIzr4S5ExldfxVEwWmGsgke-CnNqawGcFgtG8XXSSR3bn-Dv30Ay9iSzFYquxBcVFcWQzMRYPdz2g_peHQRaoeNSfIfhqIajM8EksW5/s1600/100_2874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLCmOOaR3wmuqWlVM1G9ea3Q3mXjsHG4JETjghzIzr4S5ExldfxVEwWmGsgke-CnNqawGcFgtG8XXSSR3bn-Dv30Ay9iSzFYquxBcVFcWQzMRYPdz2g_peHQRaoeNSfIfhqIajM8EksW5/s320/100_2874.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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You see, I've always wanted to be a painter, but there's just one problem... I can't draw. Literally cannot draw a straight line with a ruler, I even have difficulty with even-sided squares and round circles. But, I thought maybe, if I tried painting... it would be easier. I have all these pictures and designs in my head, I just can't get them to my hand.<br />
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So, I finally convinced myself and Mr. Man that I wanted to try again. I got all my supplies together, estimated what I needed to buy to get started, did some research, set everything up, and began. This is what came out of that effort.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vB76YyPQ8t776rk60koFWNzYrN4z0lH-F5D0Mj3OhmuDW5Ch18VWNuUUVUcXRmrsu0EkMgdJN6tyqB-sYpKvppRgHTFpjsSvGeHLaUAYIWr3lu9Kpv9ixZ7iQdxjGcXqsP8W4kjPkOor/s1600/100_2863fb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vB76YyPQ8t776rk60koFWNzYrN4z0lH-F5D0Mj3OhmuDW5Ch18VWNuUUVUcXRmrsu0EkMgdJN6tyqB-sYpKvppRgHTFpjsSvGeHLaUAYIWr3lu9Kpv9ixZ7iQdxjGcXqsP8W4kjPkOor/s320/100_2863fb.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">"Butterflies"</div><div style="text-align: center;">Acrylics on Canvas</div><div style="text-align: center;">8"x10"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">I was extremely proud of this picture... even as it was drying I knew I loved it. I was planning on listing it on my Etsy shop (which I have only just set-up and haven't used yet) and attempting to sell it. But first, I wanted opinions. Confirmation that it was good. So... I posted it on Facebook. Low and behold - people seemed to like it! I talked about selling it, wondering what my friends thought I should ask for it. Then .. the amazing thing happened... I was contacted by a very good friend of mine Alice D. She wants to buy it for a friend of hers that saw the painting and loved it! $50 dollars and <i>wham </i>- I've sold my very first painting! I am to deliver the painting tomorrow at church, where she will pay me for it (in cash, thank you very much!) Also, we've been talking about a butterfly painting for her. <i> </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>squeeeee!!</i></div><br />
I've painted a few others, I even got Da Boy into it! Here are a couple of my other works - yes they are in a different style, but I'm trying out new things, I want to see what I like doing the most.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgPu1_Sk57qdabubVSI9h0XjK_s7ntfabrLTJTqUvvrddL1Ac3UYtICM6P-XScBhKrQE5u7n1ie4E5-4Rw7vguxB9habaBfdpdyuewtrQaVzYp1sTXKcY95JJhFG4Fyt4WCBRnNHiTpBn/s1600/100_2907fb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgPu1_Sk57qdabubVSI9h0XjK_s7ntfabrLTJTqUvvrddL1Ac3UYtICM6P-XScBhKrQE5u7n1ie4E5-4Rw7vguxB9habaBfdpdyuewtrQaVzYp1sTXKcY95JJhFG4Fyt4WCBRnNHiTpBn/s320/100_2907fb.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"From Afar"</div><div style="text-align: center;">Acrylics on frame back</div><div style="text-align: center;">11"x14"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Mark 1:10" </div><div style="text-align: center;">Acrylics on cardboard</div><div style="text-align: center;">5"x7"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Please, tell me what you think of my work. If you don't like them <strike>I'll kill you</strike> don't worry, I can take it! Just give me your honest opinions! </div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-73003024293772564192010-06-29T06:52:00.000-07:002010-06-29T06:52:24.891-07:00Post-It Note Tuesday 6/29/2KX<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg88p7o4np_6BJ1_fuhxLUk_nAx9Y4M6sTm9TJsWKNBxi593a6q3iOtlbiq1ptY_vVS2Zx0c7PFV-l-wV7il_udTPbHvaFXsWoabNrVAzl88C9EDZWx-kObUck9pJJph_YoUHByH_0cGvM0/s1600/postit1g.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg88p7o4np_6BJ1_fuhxLUk_nAx9Y4M6sTm9TJsWKNBxi593a6q3iOtlbiq1ptY_vVS2Zx0c7PFV-l-wV7il_udTPbHvaFXsWoabNrVAzl88C9EDZWx-kObUck9pJJph_YoUHByH_0cGvM0/s320/postit1g.png" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpuotkTwK3S9nMzGp7UndzMk__3mPeUXsRkVeRpOv7ztE8Zrlpi2hb0ofaPMtUwJFbUPIKvHJu65ZVGtytVc0SlXU-XX_-rozITiqrj7iszjWuQTbt8XC5cSIET41O6vJEzkMptlHCIXKl/s1600/postit1h.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpuotkTwK3S9nMzGp7UndzMk__3mPeUXsRkVeRpOv7ztE8Zrlpi2hb0ofaPMtUwJFbUPIKvHJu65ZVGtytVc0SlXU-XX_-rozITiqrj7iszjWuQTbt8XC5cSIET41O6vJEzkMptlHCIXKl/s320/postit1h.png" /></a></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-40565437787202578412010-06-23T08:17:00.000-07:002010-06-23T08:17:00.152-07:00Wordful Wednesday-Phone Photo MemoriesIsn't taking pictures with your phone so much fun?! I love it, I just wish I had a better phone, and therefore, a better camera in it. Here are my favorite camera shots from my lousy phone. I'm hoping to get a better phone soon, so maybe next time I'll have better pics for you! I did my best to make these photos better through photoshop - at least now you can see what the pictures are of!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Sk7jIq_5XGu-iSMunDE2zurFMhuZKOJ16kE-uzGY7xex9qcs1A1MoJRBOPhemvevryK_EE5WGcqoi50cJ4o6HgaXWcSB0o65Vl2vTVYHohYPsR1XHtc7MqXXjsC6TU9NvfTTxIu7sLUg/s1600/P13160139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Sk7jIq_5XGu-iSMunDE2zurFMhuZKOJ16kE-uzGY7xex9qcs1A1MoJRBOPhemvevryK_EE5WGcqoi50cJ4o6HgaXWcSB0o65Vl2vTVYHohYPsR1XHtc7MqXXjsC6TU9NvfTTxIu7sLUg/s320/P13160139.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Da Boy - we called him "Spike" for 2 days</div><div style="text-align: center;">(5-6 months ago)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0GpcUdMuFqk8MGnJd8a3gJ3Nvx0cFP63yvlaoDG9h-nROoGUpi7nvgUXUtDoTeuHAgPlXzYT91-IrN9k6zAzMXvWZTu2b2_j6EBVLTYS2D6SLmRxTFHYO2RcsL-jPc7b6xJSBy03kAFOY/s1600/P18163700.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0GpcUdMuFqk8MGnJd8a3gJ3Nvx0cFP63yvlaoDG9h-nROoGUpi7nvgUXUtDoTeuHAgPlXzYT91-IrN9k6zAzMXvWZTu2b2_j6EBVLTYS2D6SLmRxTFHYO2RcsL-jPc7b6xJSBy03kAFOY/s320/P18163700.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Self portrait - my new haircut</div><div style="text-align: center;">(6 months ago maybe?)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3dv8vA1DQyKAGJZA39ilRTbTTQpTFpmYAGsfS7i_pMRUR8fjik6Fun531Hbi-0Y9Wne2bzPVvhDNmILk7Q73_XST3hq6q53VbuFey5M7_mo-_eogL4gEpeINJy6HeQxSY0SeE6DfH5GYG/s1600/P20102715.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3dv8vA1DQyKAGJZA39ilRTbTTQpTFpmYAGsfS7i_pMRUR8fjik6Fun531Hbi-0Y9Wne2bzPVvhDNmILk7Q73_XST3hq6q53VbuFey5M7_mo-_eogL4gEpeINJy6HeQxSY0SeE6DfH5GYG/s320/P20102715.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">(2009) Mr. Man makin' a funny at a restaurant.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYgwbYWn61VNG7xcTyGPka705T8ntLhF-BUalRU2ah8OupR-k9Njp6gY2IjtvzW5KhMyDjnxBD16-69QD_qjhLMPaspK_OdxCfSWknZ8277XVg5K7JLJ6tlG_e6R_6iwSrmWt6ur8L4yk/s1600/P20102728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYgwbYWn61VNG7xcTyGPka705T8ntLhF-BUalRU2ah8OupR-k9Njp6gY2IjtvzW5KhMyDjnxBD16-69QD_qjhLMPaspK_OdxCfSWknZ8277XVg5K7JLJ6tlG_e6R_6iwSrmWt6ur8L4yk/s320/P20102728.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> (2009) I told them "Make nice funny faces"</div><div style="text-align: center;">(to boys 'nice' = calm)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjCXZ2oNv_WR4s5WkGa6XNBQK6xTq7jkakWaSDAxMV9A8K-BzgeqtdhUFPwMKz8Cn07A6uqixv3SSCzY7cVUCnaOaosDpjUwig7jd54sNf3M_g15so27g70-_AKU3MefW94MQEt9xSGBzr/s1600/P24190506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjCXZ2oNv_WR4s5WkGa6XNBQK6xTq7jkakWaSDAxMV9A8K-BzgeqtdhUFPwMKz8Cn07A6uqixv3SSCzY7cVUCnaOaosDpjUwig7jd54sNf3M_g15so27g70-_AKU3MefW94MQEt9xSGBzr/s320/P24190506.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Mr. Man and Sissy T at her</div><div style="text-align: center;">going away party in SoCal (2009)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9112702597238792421.post-85476946401723174142010-06-22T10:08:00.000-07:002010-06-22T10:08:04.245-07:00The one in which Da Boy steals my camera I plugged in the camera this morning to upload a photo of Da Boy I had taken last Wednesday, the day before he left for his birth dad's house. Then I saw that he had gotten all "photographer" on me again and took 97 pictures with it when I asked him to bring me the camera. 97 <i>yeah</i>. Most of which were out of focus snaps of the TV and the cats. Oh, and his feet. He did, however, get a couple of Mr. Man and I that aren't too bad at all! Here are the pics I had planned to post, and a few of his best shots.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">**** Da Boy's Photoshoot starts below!!****</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06096417469732257285noreply@blogger.com1