<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190</id><updated>2011-10-25T09:19:12.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost Sox</title><subtitle type='html'>I Don't Understand Everything I Know!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>64</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-2017948157415384225</id><published>2011-10-18T09:36:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T10:23:04.819-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When I'm Old and Gray...Is That Now?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Zwgd2jPCqQ/Tp2LLopL4QI/AAAAAAAAAKg/DA-MTufAxws/s1600/robbie%2527s%2B60th.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 218px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 301px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664836938306937090" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Zwgd2jPCqQ/Tp2LLopL4QI/AAAAAAAAAKg/DA-MTufAxws/s400/robbie%2527s%2B60th.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; LAST MONTH, I TURNED 60. To most of you that’s nothing, but for someone who looks as young as me, most people are surprised to learn I’m "old"...or at least that’s what I like to tell myself.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At a funeral a few weeks ago I saw an old minister come in to take part in the service. I’ve known this man for 30 years, but did not recognize him until he began speaking. I was amazed at how much he had aged. At the graveside, I had a chance to speak to my dear friend. I immediately introduced myself (because sometimes older people forget names) and he responded, "Robbie! I didn’t recognize you. You’ve gotten old!". What?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moral of the story: Be kind to old people. One day they could be you! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-2017948157415384225?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/2017948157415384225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=2017948157415384225&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/2017948157415384225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/2017948157415384225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2011/10/when-im-old-and-grayis-that-now.html' title='When I&apos;m Old and Gray...Is That Now?'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Zwgd2jPCqQ/Tp2LLopL4QI/AAAAAAAAAKg/DA-MTufAxws/s72-c/robbie%2527s%2B60th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-8415597839142419410</id><published>2011-02-21T13:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T13:36:42.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>how long will it take?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p  class="ecxMsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12pt;"&gt;Christy and I are preparing for a small wedding in our  front yard the end of May. Amanda, our baby, will start a life with her new  husband Jay. I heard it said once that this is the time when I take her hand  from my back pocket and place it in his! Those of you have gone through this may  shed some light on that. Is it true that I’ll no longer be paying for car, cell  phone, and insurance, etc? When a president or governor is elected it takes a few  months to transfer the power. How long will this transfer take?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  class="ecxMsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12pt;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-8415597839142419410?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/8415597839142419410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=8415597839142419410&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8415597839142419410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8415597839142419410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2011/02/how-long-will-it-take.html' title='how long will it take?'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-3438622479783858478</id><published>2010-08-17T13:35:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T13:38:37.738-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Coupons</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/TGrI6dVQw-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/FzWIOraVayg/s1600/coupons.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 257px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 206px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506434401045627874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/TGrI6dVQw-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/FzWIOraVayg/s320/coupons.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Who came up with coupon idea? Now days we're buying newspapers for just for the coupons not the news. This past Sunday my daughter in-law bought two papers! Just for coupons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ask my wife where she's going she starts off with "I have a coupon for" then she answers my question. I realized today that in order to get her to come with me anywhere, I have to promise her they're honoring coupons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking for coupons for church meetings. I think we'll have more attending if we honored coupons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-3438622479783858478?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/3438622479783858478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=3438622479783858478&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3438622479783858478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3438622479783858478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2010/08/coupons.html' title='Coupons'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/TGrI6dVQw-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/FzWIOraVayg/s72-c/coupons.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-6517258978744060643</id><published>2010-07-28T09:05:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T10:09:26.898-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pertubed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/TFA57lz0AjI/AAAAAAAAAJs/FCkxqoNJyH4/s1600/bridal-magazines.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 222px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498958840943870514" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/TFA57lz0AjI/AAAAAAAAAJs/FCkxqoNJyH4/s200/bridal-magazines.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well, my daughter Amanda got engaged the first of July. I'm happy for her, I really am, but I'm concerned about her mother. She's been consumed with wedding stuff since the announcement!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People say that the flowers, the pictures, and the reception is where your money goes, but I don't think they've thought about the books! We have wedding books showing up every day in our house and these jokers aren't cheap. I ask you, what can one book say that the other hasn't? You buy a dress, find a place, order some food, invite family, and pay the preacher. What's so hard with that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might sound a little perturbed about this whole thing, but this is how the dad should feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I read it in a book last night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-6517258978744060643?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/6517258978744060643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=6517258978744060643&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6517258978744060643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6517258978744060643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2010/07/pertubed.html' title='Pertubed'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/TFA57lz0AjI/AAAAAAAAAJs/FCkxqoNJyH4/s72-c/bridal-magazines.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-1363529695827320729</id><published>2010-07-27T10:49:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T15:51:14.877-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Check Up Coming</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/TE84hClEdeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/u7XicA_TFAk/s1600/robbie+creamer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498675810321855970" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/TE84hClEdeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/u7XicA_TFAk/s400/robbie+creamer.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We don't drink the same coffee at home, Christy is a decaf flavored sissy, I drink it strong and black, like God created it to be consumed! We got a new coffee maker a few months ago that has been wonderful, no pots of coffee being wasted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One morning last week I made my own breakfast. I put coffee in my new appliance, added water and placed my mug in its holder . While the coffee brewed I cooked my breakfast, toast and butter. When the toast popped up I buttered it and I reached for my mug and saw it overflowing with coffee. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a started cleaning the spilled coffee it kept coming over the mug! Where was this coffee coming from? I thought someone had blessed it for consumption for the entire neighborhood. There's no way I put that much water in the coffee maker. It finally quit running and I grabbed the mug from its holder, only to find that I put the mug in upside down!  Who does that kind of thing? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a Check Up!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-1363529695827320729?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/1363529695827320729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=1363529695827320729&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/1363529695827320729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/1363529695827320729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2010/07/check-up-coming.html' title='Check Up Coming'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/TE84hClEdeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/u7XicA_TFAk/s72-c/robbie+creamer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-2906375261898324001</id><published>2010-07-21T09:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T10:16:32.204-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Bubba</title><content type='html'>It was fifty years ago today and I was staying at my Grandmother's when my Dad called. " We have a new fishing buddy" he said. My brother Marty was born!&lt;br /&gt;He spend his first few weeks in the hospital with breathing problems. Before he could walk on his own he drove his walker off a 4 foot porch. He had numerous bicycle mishaps. He jumped ramps and did handstands on his skateboard. I held him as Momma drove him to have his leg sewed up from a fall. He grew into riding a dirt bike like mad man , jumps included.&lt;br /&gt;These are just things I remember about him I'm sure my younger sisters remember more.&lt;br /&gt;We knew he wouldn't make this long! But he fooled us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regrets: We never became fishing buddies. Maybe we can change that in the next 50 years.&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Bubba&lt;br /&gt;Love ya&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-2906375261898324001?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/2906375261898324001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=2906375261898324001&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/2906375261898324001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/2906375261898324001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2010/07/happy-birthday-bubba.html' title='Happy Birthday Bubba'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-6856579410219389272</id><published>2009-12-12T09:22:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T10:33:05.099-05:00</updated><title type='text'>181</title><content type='html'>In the 80's I use to run with a group of friends to stay in shape and keep my weight down. Our road trips to races were great times of fellowship, bonding, and good meals on the drive home. We still talk about our 'running days' when we get together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that running would keep me from gaining weight, but it didn't. (It might have, if I'd had changed my eating habits.)&lt;br /&gt;I had one friend as concerned as me about his weight problem. He and I stopped by Walmart one day and decided to weigh ourselves on the scales at the entrance. I weighed 181, I had never weighed that much before. I was shocked! My friend said nothing, I thought he was being compassionate. I tried to forget '181' .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A day or so later he and I were running with another friend and were having a good conversation, (by the way, they say if you can talk while you run, you are running too slow). Then out of the blue my 'friend' said, "&lt;strong&gt;I wish I could get down to 181&lt;/strong&gt;! " They had been discussing my experience at Walmart earlier and good laugh at my expense, and to this day they still laugh about '181!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years '181' has come and gone and now I'm now trying to get &lt;strong&gt;back down to '181'.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday my secretary's little son, Davis, came to the office around lunch carrying a pack of french fries from McDonalds. He's a very sweet little boy, and thought that Mr. Robbie would like a french fry. When started to hand me one , his lovely mother said " &lt;strong&gt;Davis, can you say 181?&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;I'm not mad, she's not the only one in the office to remind me of '181'. Maybe I share too much.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I do need all the 'encouragement' I can get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will '181' ever come again?&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you all know.&lt;br /&gt;I might even write a letter to Walmart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-6856579410219389272?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/6856579410219389272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=6856579410219389272&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6856579410219389272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6856579410219389272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/12/181.html' title='181'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-3139602058792947230</id><published>2009-12-07T14:15:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T14:56:59.112-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Family Facts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/Sx1X7g0ArpI/AAAAAAAAAJc/M6PY7k-PNtQ/s1600-h/smarter+than.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 203px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412579007101185682" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/Sx1X7g0ArpI/AAAAAAAAAJc/M6PY7k-PNtQ/s400/smarter+than.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm blessed to have a big wonderful family, and we all enjoy getting together during the holidays. When you live out of town you don't get to experience all that goes on with the family. So, every time we meet, I try to learn more about their daily lives. How their jobs are coming along , where they're going on vacation, and how their children are doing in school. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing I heard this year is that my niece, my who is an RN, helped her 3rd grade son on a school paper, and he made a 49! She said "you don't have to be able to write to be a nurse". She didn't think it humorous. But to my family, it was! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was amusing to see my sister, who is a 1st grade teacher, teaching my nurse niece, 3rd grade English. I guess most of us have forgotten a lot of things we 'learned' in school. (sorry Becca, I had to share this)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Mother asked my brother once if he wanted help with his homework, he said " do you want me to fail?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It runs deep in my family!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are You Smarter Than A 3rd Grader? Mmmm?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-3139602058792947230?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/3139602058792947230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=3139602058792947230&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3139602058792947230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3139602058792947230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/12/fun-family-facts_07.html' title='Fun Family Facts'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/Sx1X7g0ArpI/AAAAAAAAAJc/M6PY7k-PNtQ/s72-c/smarter+than.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-3953940349234309154</id><published>2009-10-12T11:00:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T11:23:12.163-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop the Madness</title><content type='html'>Times are bad but we never know just how bad until we see something like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391732511653153298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 303px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/StNIJxkCyhI/AAAAAAAAAJM/fJGPl-OlCKc/s400/blogtpaper" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I took this picture in a restroom at a boat ramp on Lake Hartwell this past week. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How is Obama’s Administration going to stop the senseless and rampant theft of toilet paper? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When does the madness stop? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-3953940349234309154?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/3953940349234309154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=3953940349234309154&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3953940349234309154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3953940349234309154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/10/times-are-bad-but-we-never-know-just.html' title='Stop the Madness'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/StNIJxkCyhI/AAAAAAAAAJM/fJGPl-OlCKc/s72-c/blogtpaper' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-1805462320163454274</id><published>2009-10-07T15:01:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T07:51:29.874-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lets find a radio station...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SszrsgG2maI/AAAAAAAAAIk/73tmE7rWkkU/s1600-h/clams_2_21_03.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I’m a Christian white male, born, raised, and educated in the South. There's good chance that I'm a conservative person, and I think of myself as such. But, I’m getting tired of listening to conservative talk radio. They have nothing good to say about anything. They might be more knowledgeable than me, but it wears me out to listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might think that being in the church music profession, I listen to Christian music all the time. I do that during work hours, so I really don’t want to get in my vehicle and listen to that again. Don’t get me wrong. We have great Christian music stations here in town. But I need something different. And today, I found the type of programming I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was listening to NPR (don’t stop reading, remember I’m conservative) and I heard two men talking about the state managed clam beds we have here in South Carolina. Did you know you can go to one of our 79 different sites and dig for clams, at no charge? Are we living in a great state or what? One man called in and said that he was in Canada a few weeks ago and all their clam beds are restricted to commercial clammers. It makes me glad that we don’t have to be like Canada to be a great state (I didn’t mention healthcare).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SsztHKBmmNI/AAAAAAAAAI0/M3IaXt2o24w/s1600-h/gumball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389943561261586642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 170px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 177px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SsztHKBmmNI/AAAAAAAAAI0/M3IaXt2o24w/s200/gumball.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s discussion on the Sweet Gum Tree. 'What’s their purpose?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is exciting….&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/Sszs9F0MiVI/AAAAAAAAAIs/7V2LthuSOXU/s1600-h/gumball.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-1805462320163454274?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/1805462320163454274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=1805462320163454274&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/1805462320163454274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/1805462320163454274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/10/lets-find-radio-station.html' title='Lets find a radio station...'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SsztHKBmmNI/AAAAAAAAAI0/M3IaXt2o24w/s72-c/gumball.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-6915076933011523830</id><published>2009-09-29T10:41:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T10:50:59.882-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Diet or Velcro?</title><content type='html'>I went to the doctor last week to renew my CDL health certificate and he told me I was in great health, except my belly! It seems that I have gained a few pounds since my last visit and I have a small hernia that is getting larger as I gain weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend once told me you can know you’re fat if your shoes have the knot tied on the side and not it in the middle. I checked mine today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386900568615195922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SsIdhrColRI/AAAAAAAAAIU/jpMFTeM-qLk/s320/Robbies+shoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Diet, (or Velcro) here I come!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-6915076933011523830?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/6915076933011523830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=6915076933011523830&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6915076933011523830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6915076933011523830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/09/diet-or-velcro.html' title='Diet or Velcro?'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SsIdhrColRI/AAAAAAAAAIU/jpMFTeM-qLk/s72-c/Robbies+shoes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-199848425126703154</id><published>2009-09-17T09:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T09:29:23.189-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Bad Sign When Your Hotel Gives You Earplugs!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SrI5HqsrGYI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ojkIqM97sOU/s1600-h/old+blue+eyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382427308544694658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SrI5HqsrGYI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ojkIqM97sOU/s320/old+blue+eyes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We traveled to Holland, MI today and looked at a Windmill (that is another blog). Then headed to Nappanee, Indiana. I was looking forward to a good night 's sleep in this sleepy little Amish town. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We checked into our rooms and along with soap and shampoo, they provide Ear Plugs! I thought this was odd, but nice, to provide some relief from roommate noise, until I heard the TRAIN! It passes every hour and they blow the horn right at the motel! I drank 3 cups of coffee at supper so the train won't wake me. I'll already be awake, again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Louisville tomorrow...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-199848425126703154?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/199848425126703154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=199848425126703154&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/199848425126703154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/199848425126703154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-bad-sign-when-your-hotel-gives-you.html' title='It&apos;s a Bad Sign When Your Hotel Gives You Earplugs!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SrI5HqsrGYI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ojkIqM97sOU/s72-c/old+blue+eyes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-5674808056614041872</id><published>2009-09-16T09:05:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T09:20:41.775-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Wanna Go Home .... Oh, How I Wanna Go Home!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SrDl8t93V4I/AAAAAAAAAH8/o3KMrBrNL6w/s1600-h/Robbie+Sleeping2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382054386001729410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 173px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 206px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SrDl8t93V4I/AAAAAAAAAH8/o3KMrBrNL6w/s400/Robbie+Sleeping2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;I'm on the downhill side of our Merry Makers trip up north. We are heading home Friday, and I will be a happy man. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't slept well on this trip and I just figured out why. I had 4 pillows on my bed and thought I had to wake up every 2 hours and use another pillow! They put me in a handicap room, for some reason, and the bathroom lights are motion controlled. So every time I got up and went in, all the lights and fans came on and woke me up even more!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll be glad to get home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-5674808056614041872?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/5674808056614041872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=5674808056614041872&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/5674808056614041872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/5674808056614041872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-wanna-go-home-oh-how-i-wanna-go-home.html' title='I Wanna Go Home .... Oh, How I Wanna Go Home!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SrDl8t93V4I/AAAAAAAAAH8/o3KMrBrNL6w/s72-c/Robbie+Sleeping2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-8047778238152899928</id><published>2009-08-31T15:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T10:43:17.341-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Small Towns</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/Sp6EYAGh8CI/AAAAAAAAAH0/LvqxC011H8g/s1600-h/barney-fife-lawman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376880553006067746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 155px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/Sp6EYAGh8CI/AAAAAAAAAH0/LvqxC011H8g/s200/barney-fife-lawman.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Living in a small town you rely on the local newspaper to keep you informed.  I particularly enjoy the police reports section. A few weeks ago a local man was arrested for shooting dragonflies with his shotgun and accidently shot his buddy in the head! I’m not sure if he was charged with shooting the dragonflies, or his buddy. If he were a celebrity, probably shooting the dragonflies would be the charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week a woman was arrested for beating her daughter with a broom. The young girl had been suspended from school for a day for cutting class. Her mother found out about it, a few days later. She took her broom to the high school, found her daughter, and began to wear her out with the broom. The police report said the woman was arrested and the broom confiscated for evidence!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small towns, you can’t make this stuff up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side note:&lt;br /&gt;My wife is in charge of settling her mother’s estate; I asked her if she had a realtor yet, her answer “yes Wally, from Andrews Feed and Seed”.&lt;br /&gt;Small towns…..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-8047778238152899928?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/8047778238152899928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=8047778238152899928&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8047778238152899928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8047778238152899928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/08/small-towns.html' title='Small Towns'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/Sp6EYAGh8CI/AAAAAAAAAH0/LvqxC011H8g/s72-c/barney-fife-lawman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-2930185322276375567</id><published>2009-08-17T10:06:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T10:15:12.217-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not everything that smells bad is!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SollmAp47BI/AAAAAAAAAHs/X1E3YjztrKs/s1600-h/ms1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370935734301158418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 228px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SollmAp47BI/AAAAAAAAAHs/X1E3YjztrKs/s400/ms1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Not everything that smells bad is! For example; egg salad, turnip greens, tuna.&lt;br /&gt;I had to be reminded of that after two weeks of Pastors’ camp with our children and middle school.&lt;br /&gt;Most of what I smelled was bad! I’m not talking about the food! When you get the pleasure of camping with young men, it takes you a good week at home to enjoy the regular smells of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Realization:&lt;/strong&gt; if you go to camp, expect the bathroom floor to be wet! Why is that? Someone needs to invent a shower curtain for camps that cannot come out of the shower!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Question:&lt;/strong&gt; Why is there always a sock, a towel, and a pair of dirty underwear left that no one claims?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, it was worth it all to see these young lives changed. Sign me up again!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-2930185322276375567?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/2930185322276375567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=2930185322276375567&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/2930185322276375567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/2930185322276375567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/08/not-everything-that-smells-bad-is.html' title='Not everything that smells bad is!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SollmAp47BI/AAAAAAAAAHs/X1E3YjztrKs/s72-c/ms1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-4821645220670713679</id><published>2009-07-29T10:05:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T16:16:53.525-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Attention Wal-Mart Shoppers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SnCNB8vA6AI/AAAAAAAAAHk/s-55FYCVB9o/s1600-h/walmart+robbie+spp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363942220820965378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SnCNB8vA6AI/AAAAAAAAAHk/s-55FYCVB9o/s400/walmart+robbie+spp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SnByXx1pFeI/AAAAAAAAAHc/d1gAi6UD27k/s1600-h/walmart+robbie.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do clothes really make the man? I was shopping in Wal-Mart the other day and a man stopped me and asked “do you work here?” I said "no" and he said “you look like you do”. What does that mean? Does everyone who wears a blue shirt and khaki pants look like they work at Wal-Mart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t get me wrong, I think working at Wal-Mart is an honorable thing. I wish my wife and daughter felt the same!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an eye opening experience. People do look at how we are dressed. You can say “it doesn't matter what I wear” but you know deep down that it does. Yesterday I wore a tie to the hospital and I received a lot more information and respect from the staff there. It also makes me feel better about my self when I dress up. (I guess that is a self -esteem issue to be discussed later.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ...&lt;br /&gt;Dress nice, feel nice.&lt;br /&gt;Dress in blue ... works at Wal-Mart!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-4821645220670713679?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/4821645220670713679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=4821645220670713679&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4821645220670713679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4821645220670713679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/07/attention-wal-mart-shoppers.html' title='Attention Wal-Mart Shoppers'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SnCNB8vA6AI/AAAAAAAAAHk/s-55FYCVB9o/s72-c/walmart+robbie+spp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-4086265696017798249</id><published>2009-07-23T10:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T14:06:40.870-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Older</title><content type='html'>Well, my daughter turned 24 this week and my brother 49. Talk about feeling old! I remember when both were born!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I went to the restroom at work and didn’t have to unzip my pants! They have been unzipped all day! But what makes me feel old is that I was glad that I didn’t have to go through that extra step before I did what I came in to do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re headed to Pastors' camp with our church kids this afternoon. I am sure there will be other reminders of age while we are there.&lt;br /&gt;Pray for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-4086265696017798249?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/4086265696017798249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=4086265696017798249&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4086265696017798249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4086265696017798249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/07/getting-older.html' title='Getting Older'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-2024849322946400321</id><published>2009-05-27T10:02:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T10:05:21.400-04:00</updated><title type='text'>37 years</title><content type='html'>Well, Christine’s 37th wedding anniversary is today. I started to write this blog saying that she was ‘celebrating’ her 37th anniversary but, I felt that living with me for 37 years was more of an ‘accomplishment’ that a celebration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a known fact that men often die before their spouse because their brains and emotions work harder that their wives. Men are always trying to stay out of trouble, or working to fix something we’ve done! This takes a toll on our life span.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found this video that should help the young guys in this ever changing institution of marriage. What not to say…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iK2OakMoW_c&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iK2OakMoW_c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/3562182881189853190-2024849322946400321?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/2024849322946400321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=2024849322946400321&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/2024849322946400321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/2024849322946400321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/05/37-years.html' title='37 years'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-8128908943825808153</id><published>2009-04-29T14:56:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T15:17:43.129-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Missions/College Minister Needs Help!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-1e6c7e1dfdc1dd22" 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.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D1e6c7e1dfdc1dd22%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331258258%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D296E5B77D262ED121AC083D03B31BE1B07F9CB1F.5E3B5016343766E3D0058EE9A39B95D6BF736DA0%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D1e6c7e1dfdc1dd22%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DJ9zIVYSErS8dw8Nr3dxrx2zMOCY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D1e6c7e1dfdc1dd22%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331258258%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D296E5B77D262ED121AC083D03B31BE1B07F9CB1F.5E3B5016343766E3D0058EE9A39B95D6BF736DA0%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D1e6c7e1dfdc1dd22%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DJ9zIVYSErS8dw8Nr3dxrx2zMOCY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-8128908943825808153?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=1e6c7e1dfdc1dd22&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/8128908943825808153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=8128908943825808153&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8128908943825808153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8128908943825808153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/04/missionscollege-minister-needs-help.html' title='Missions/College Minister Needs Help!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-6668736360126996396</id><published>2009-04-08T10:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T10:43:53.595-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hallelujah Chorus</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5HkXmOIwpkQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5HkXmOIwpkQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here is a way we can have the "Hallelujah Chorus" here at Brushy Creek.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-6668736360126996396?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/6668736360126996396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=6668736360126996396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6668736360126996396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6668736360126996396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/04/hallelujah-chorus.html' title='Hallelujah Chorus'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-3089555341576349899</id><published>2009-01-27T17:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T18:08:52.289-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken and Spilled out</title><content type='html'>Interesting things happen to me. I am sorry to say that cannot write about all of them . It would take too long and you might not find them  as interesting as I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sang a a concert today at our Seniors Citizens meeting (Merry Makers). One of the songs I sang was beautiful and meaningful Steve Green song called 'Broken and Spilled Out' . One verse says " broken and spilled out and poured at you feet.." While singing this verse I accidentally kicked my open bottle of water all over the stage and my feet!&lt;br /&gt;The  'spilled' water 'broke' the mood!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't make up these blessings!&lt;br /&gt;Pray for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-3089555341576349899?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/3089555341576349899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=3089555341576349899&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3089555341576349899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3089555341576349899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/01/broken-and-spilled-out.html' title='Broken and Spilled out'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-8938510602822366480</id><published>2009-01-06T19:00:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T16:31:04.809-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Frying Turkeys</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SWZv_R46L5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/hT18W-rAQZE/s1600-h/turkey+fryer.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289037945317765010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SWZv_R46L5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/hT18W-rAQZE/s200/turkey+fryer.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been frying turkeys for a long time. I bought a cooker with two other friends years ago and we cooked our turkeys together each year. I was always the one who had to leave early, so the other guys drained the oil and cleaned the pot. Well over the past few years my friends gave up on the turkey frying and the cooker became mine. Now I’m having to drain the oil and clean the pot. But not any more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cooked two turkeys on Monday when all my children were in town and planned to drain the oil and clean the pot the next day. I got up early the next morning and decided to go to breakfast while my family was sleeping. I backed over the turkey pot with my truck! Yes, the oil was still in the pot, and now on the driveway! I loaded the mangled pot and the rest of the oil into my truck and took it straight to the dump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll bet you thought I started a fire!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-8938510602822366480?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/8938510602822366480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=8938510602822366480&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8938510602822366480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8938510602822366480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/01/frying-turkeys.html' title='Frying Turkeys'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SWZv_R46L5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/hT18W-rAQZE/s72-c/turkey+fryer.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-8937103360713629219</id><published>2009-01-05T19:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T20:13:29.652-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Christmas!</title><content type='html'>Over a lifetime we forget more Christmas gifts than we remember. There are some you never forget:the bike, chemistry set, and BB gun for example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Christy&lt;/span&gt; and I will never forget the gift our Grandchildren gave us this year. Intestinal Virus! That’s correct, we were sick for 3 days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There should be a set time where sick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;grandkids&lt;/span&gt; are quarantined. Even if they seem to be over their sickness, that little bug is still out there waiting for some loving grandparent to hug and kiss their little sweetheart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We received gifts of love from all our children and appreciated them, but the lasting memory of Christmas 2008 will be the ‘gift’ from our grandchildren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What A Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-8937103360713629219?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/8937103360713629219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=8937103360713629219&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8937103360713629219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8937103360713629219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-christmas.html' title='What a Christmas!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-4859740815117425818</id><published>2008-12-14T21:48:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T12:56:32.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa's Reindeer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SUaaIwiTi1I/AAAAAAAAAGo/qkILj9kSUqI/s1600-h/Santawithreindeer2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280077088396905298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 395px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SUaaIwiTi1I/AAAAAAAAAGo/qkILj9kSUqI/s400/Santawithreindeer2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;Here is something I heard yesterday I thought was interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year, male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid -December. Female reindeer retain their antlers till after they give birth in the spring. Therefore , according to EVERY historical rendition depicting Santa's reindeer, EVERY single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen, had to be a girl.&lt;br /&gt;We should have known... Only females would be able to drag a big fat man in a red suit all around the world in one night and not get lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This had to be researched by a woman...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-4859740815117425818?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/4859740815117425818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=4859740815117425818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4859740815117425818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4859740815117425818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/12/santas-reindeer.html' title='Santa&apos;s Reindeer'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SUaaIwiTi1I/AAAAAAAAAGo/qkILj9kSUqI/s72-c/Santawithreindeer2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-733025035246004195</id><published>2008-11-28T19:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T21:37:40.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you want fries with that?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever gotten frustrated with your service at a restaurant? We all have at one time or another. What do we usually do? We complain.  After a day of visiting with my family in Lexington and hearing food service stories, I began to ponder this problem. Today while raking up the leaves in my yard I had a revelation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Most of time it’s young people working these jobs and they’re just trying to make enough money to buy gas or pay their car insurance. They might be planning for a big date on the weekend or hoping they will get enough money this month to help with college payments. They are not planning on making this a career, so they don’t try to be happy with their work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some do make food service their life. I have friends in Charleston who own a Chick Fil-A on Hwy 17 in Summerville, (shameless plug, Melody and Chris). The ladies at Waffle House on Pelham and  I-85 haven’t changed in years and the sweet ladies that get up and make the biscuits at Hardees consider this a calling.. All these, and more, are making food service their life. But most of the workers are young people. We all have friends or family members who were in food service at sometime or other. All three of my kids worked at restaurants at some point in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What got me to pondering this issue was hearing my nieces talk about their experiences. Kelly worked for two weeks and quit because she didn’t want to wear the polyester uniform!  Rebecca quit after two weeks because they wouldn’t give her her birthday off! My nephew, Robert, did work for the ‘Golden Arches’ for 8 years before he found another life.  These were young people who had other things they wanted to do in life. Kelly now owns her own photography studio, Rebecca is now an RN, and Robert is in the banking business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the ones who are cooking your food or waiting your table. So smile and encourage them. This will make them feel better, and you will get better service.&lt;br /&gt;Who knows, one day that young person might be taking your children’s wedding photos, giving you dialysis, or helping you get a loan!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-733025035246004195?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/733025035246004195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=733025035246004195&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/733025035246004195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/733025035246004195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/11/do-you-want-fries-with-that.html' title='Do you want fries with that?'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-4286225101945220025</id><published>2008-11-26T11:38:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T22:30:48.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Paw Paw</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SS2Gre57T5I/AAAAAAAAAGA/LakcIo-0UTs/s1600-h/Robbie+spiked.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273018820309241746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 138px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SS2Gre57T5I/AAAAAAAAAGA/LakcIo-0UTs/s320/Robbie+spiked.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just met Jeremiah's (our Middle School Minister) little neice in the hallway at our offices. I talked to her awhile and enjoyed our visit. She is a beautiful little girl with curley black hair. As she was leaving she looked at me and said bye 'Paw Paw '. Do I look like everybodys 'Paw Paw'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting a haircut today and I am thinking about getting this grey hair colored and spiked up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-4286225101945220025?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/4286225101945220025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=4286225101945220025&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4286225101945220025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4286225101945220025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/11/paw-paw.html' title='Paw Paw'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SS2Gre57T5I/AAAAAAAAAGA/LakcIo-0UTs/s72-c/Robbie+spiked.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-3288077678775875013</id><published>2008-11-26T11:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T13:58:11.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Water Heater Troubles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/STQzs8JrL7I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Zs_Htaax9lQ/s1600-h/shower+head.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274897910711660466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 380px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/STQzs8JrL7I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Zs_Htaax9lQ/s400/shower+head.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were having trouble with our pressure release valve on our water heater at home. We would wake up; get ready for a shower, and no hot water, pretty frustrating! I have to go down to the basement and go under our house to reset the water heater when this happens. We have room in this section under the house to stand up so this is not a bad job, if water isn’t standing in this area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday morning I went to take my shower and no hot water! Christy was still in the bed so I put a sweatshirt on and headed down to the basement. Arriving at the Water Heater area I put on some old tennis shoes that I leave down there to work in. Opened the door to go under the house and discovered the area was flooded. I tried to put some old paint cans down on the red mud (when red clay gets wet, it is mud) they floated away. So I stepped on some stones that were down there, trying not to fill my shoes with the red water. After arriving at my destination and resetting the heater I though I would take an alternate route back and try to keep water from getting in my shoes. I moved down the edge of the water and was getting ready to jump to the basement entrance when my feet had another idea! I slipped and fell on my back in the red muddy water! Water in my shoes, underwear and sweatshirt soaked, laying on my back in water on a cold Monday morning. This is not the way I planned on starting my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up and entered the basement took off my shoes, and headed upstairs, with red mud on my back and bottom! Thinking that Christy was still in the bed asleep, I started down the hall, she came up from behind me and said “well this is a sight you don’t see everyday!” It was pretty startling to me also; I thought I was the only one awake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days it doesn’t pay to get up early!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-3288077678775875013?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/3288077678775875013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=3288077678775875013&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3288077678775875013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3288077678775875013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/11/water-heater-troubles.html' title='Water Heater Troubles'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/STQzs8JrL7I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Zs_Htaax9lQ/s72-c/shower+head.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-8278521118437542402</id><published>2008-11-13T13:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:33:27.229-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spread it Around</title><content type='html'>I am embarrassed. Today I had breakfast with a group of Senior Citizens from our church and I forgot my wallet. This wouldn’t have been as embarrassing if I had not left without paying my bill at our last breakfast!  Jerry Welmaker bailed me out that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have heard of, and seen, ministers that are always the last ones to get their wallets out at restaurants with church people.  I don’t want to be that kind of minister (that doesn’t mean that I don’t like free golf), so I will pay Mel Daniels back as soon as I can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This experience got me to thinking, maybe all I was doing was following the lead of our new president and spreading the wealth around?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-8278521118437542402?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/8278521118437542402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=8278521118437542402&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8278521118437542402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8278521118437542402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/11/spread-it-around.html' title='Spread it Around'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-3913897261933744747</id><published>2008-11-03T19:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T19:13:16.874-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jingle Bells</title><content type='html'>My two year old grandson singing Jingle Bells after a bunch of Hallowen candy and Sprite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="299" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3d62ebc34b7fd2b7" 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.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3d62ebc34b7fd2b7%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331258258%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D63BE69987101F5E63B849AF710997631D38B775C.7EF344AC5BC1977EF2AF5B47E2FA8008E529E474%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3d62ebc34b7fd2b7%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1CokkqC40RtpsvlTKcyIZOryWVw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="299" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3d62ebc34b7fd2b7%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331258258%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D63BE69987101F5E63B849AF710997631D38B775C.7EF344AC5BC1977EF2AF5B47E2FA8008E529E474%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3d62ebc34b7fd2b7%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1CokkqC40RtpsvlTKcyIZOryWVw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-3913897261933744747?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=3d62ebc34b7fd2b7&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/3913897261933744747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=3913897261933744747&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3913897261933744747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3913897261933744747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/11/jingle-bells.html' title='Jingle Bells'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-108060236674791431</id><published>2008-10-28T21:18:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T15:47:59.022-04:00</updated><title type='text'>DIY Plumbing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SQi93YBC_6I/AAAAAAAAAFU/SfDZ92CXjcg/s1600-h/Plumber.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262664923619721122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SQi93YBC_6I/AAAAAAAAAFU/SfDZ92CXjcg/s200/Plumber.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Owning a older home has proved to be a challenge for Christine and me. Remodeling bathrooms and kitchens, taking down dead trees, replacing wiring and plumbing . The list goes on and on. There is always something to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago we had a hot water pipe start leaking in the basement. I went by the hardware store, bought the supplies, and replaced the leaking section of pipe. No problem for a man of my talent!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we had another leak in the same pipe (not the section I fixed). I decided to replace a longer section of pipe, from the basement to the crawl space, with the new &lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Pex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;pipe. The couplings for &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Pex &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;pipe are are a little expensive but its great to work with-- no glue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did all my work in the basement section and the project was going well. Now to the crawl space. I was feeling pretty proud about my 'gift of plumbing' as I started replacing the rest of old pipe in the crawl space. With the first cut of the old pipe water started spewing everywhere! I let the water run for a minute or so, until I was soaked, because how could a man of my plumbing talent cut the wrong pipe, but I did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put this down in your book of things you might want to remember. It doesn't matter that you turn the hot water off, if you cut the cold water pipe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what is worse, making a mistake like that or having you wife and daughter-in law find out about it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is 'Joe the Plumber' when you need him?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-108060236674791431?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/108060236674791431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=108060236674791431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/108060236674791431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/108060236674791431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/10/diy-plumbing.html' title='DIY Plumbing'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SQi93YBC_6I/AAAAAAAAAFU/SfDZ92CXjcg/s72-c/Plumber.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-3876762114465449123</id><published>2008-10-19T21:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T21:51:30.589-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A chicken wing is not just a Southern thing!</title><content type='html'>We had a guide while we were in Cape Cod that told us many interesting facts about the Cape. Bringing the South to Massachusetts made the trip even more interesting. Our words are different than theirs, for example fork was pronounced falk, yard was yad, corn was kan, you get the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day we went to Nantucket. A beautiful little town lined with expensive shops , fancy restaurants, and cobblestone streets. At lunch time we wanted to save time and money, so Christine and I went to the the supermarket there in town and bought some chicken wings , a pack of crackers, and a Diet Coke. We found a bench on the main drag there in Nantucket and sat down and ate our wings and watched the people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought nothing about it until I remembered what our guide had told us earlier about that street. She said that cobblestone street in Nantucket was like Rodeo Drive in Hollywood, only the rich could afford to shop there and now we were there eating wings on the sidewalk! I guess our southerness really showed out that day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a lot of people in the south who are proud that we saved money on lunch!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-3876762114465449123?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/3876762114465449123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=3876762114465449123&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3876762114465449123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3876762114465449123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/10/chicken-wing-is-not-jsut-ooutheren.html' title='A chicken wing is not just a Southern thing!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-1577337290826478485</id><published>2008-10-17T08:40:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T12:39:08.879-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blue Pill</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Christine and I took a great trip to Cape Cod last week with our Senior Citizens from Brushy Creek. We toured the Cape, Martha 's Vineyard, Nantucket and stopped by Boston and FDR's home on the way home. We had a great time but I am glad to be home. Both Christine and I came back with colds. We have been coughing and hacking all week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SPi_m-5vvmI/AAAAAAAAAE0/EjAnpSuH3V8/s1600-h/SDC10233.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258163241396190818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SPi_m-5vvmI/AAAAAAAAAE0/EjAnpSuH3V8/s200/SDC10233.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I left Monday after we got home on Saturday for our annual staff retreat. I found that if you snore or are coughing and running a temperature you can get your own room! It was quite nice. David Kay had a stiff neck and asked me if I had something he could take to ease the pain so I gave him two Tylenol PMs. I don't know what was funnier, seeing him fall asleep in our meeting or watching Benji, Angela, and Ben watch him (they were in on it, too). This was Benji's and Ben's first staff retreat I hope I haven't ruined them. Most of these meetings are not that funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He should have known not to take the Blue Pill!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-1577337290826478485?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/1577337290826478485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=1577337290826478485&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/1577337290826478485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/1577337290826478485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/10/blue-pill.html' title='The Blue Pill'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SPi_m-5vvmI/AAAAAAAAAE0/EjAnpSuH3V8/s72-c/SDC10233.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-4845125583323017129</id><published>2008-09-29T07:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T09:47:38.192-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Marty</title><content type='html'>I used to tell my children bedtime stories about Zeep and WaWa, garbage men in space, and about the adventures of two inquisitive ants, Clarence and Roy. I gained inspiration for Zeep and WaWa from the movie Star Wars, but the inspiration for Clarence and Roy was probably from my brother Marty and his friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t mentioned Marty much in my blogs before now, and he has felt a little slighted. It is not because I don’t love him. A lot of the things he did as a child, or even now, I can’t publish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit he has added flair to our family. Like the time he and his buddy painted two kids silver from head to toe so that they might be able to join his fictitious club! Or the time my friend and I thought it was raining, and it was Marty in a tree providing the ‘water works’ (fill in the blanks). I could go on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has the most creative mind in our family. Or better yet, he’s the best liar! He is also Mom and Dad’s funniest child. He keeps the family gatherings going with his tall tales and gags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is easy to be jealous of him, not just because he is the thinnest or the best singer in the family, but because he was able to do things that we couldn’t. Like making jumps with his dirt bike. I thought if he could do it I could too, until found myself flipping on my head with the bike on top of me. Riding his skateboard down the street on his hands couldn’t be that hard, I thought. Cracked head and skinned knuckles later I realized it was a little harder than it looked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marty, have a great day, and I hope you enjoy this blog. Thanks for making our lives interesting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you brother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-4845125583323017129?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/4845125583323017129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=4845125583323017129&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4845125583323017129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4845125583323017129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/09/marty.html' title='Marty'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-7696522267248775873</id><published>2008-09-08T21:30:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T16:09:54.167-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who is Old?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SMbYAC8BMKI/AAAAAAAAAEs/skt9GH_dFbs/s1600-h/mr_six_old_guy_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244116311419728034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SMbYAC8BMKI/AAAAAAAAAEs/skt9GH_dFbs/s320/mr_six_old_guy_lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am glad that I am not old. I turn 57 on the 12th and know a lot of men older than me who are still active. Let me tell you about my best friend growing up, Rusty Wright. He drove a 55 Chevy and I drove a 56. We had plans to drive to California when we finished high school school but it never happened. We got separated when we started college, I went one way and he went the other. We both got married after college and started our careers. I renewed my friendship with Rusty this past week and found that he had become a lawyer a few months ago. Starting to practice law at 57! I confess, he was always the smarter and most athletic one. Now I see he is the most adventurous one also. He makes me realize that you are as old as you want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because we have to start getting physicals and preventive medical procedures doesn't mean we are old. Even getting up and going to the bathroom a couple times a night doesn't mean we're old. Not being able to read without our our 'helper glasses' doesn't mean we are old. Enjoying ACTIVIA on a regular basis does not mean we're old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can't start believing what young people say about us. Of course we are older that those little snips, but we are not old! I wonder what those youngsters said when my friend Rusty walked into class? Being young doesn't make you smarter or stronger. Let's not give in to those who don't have as much wisdom or experience as us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Way to Rusty! I am proud of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to close now, it's 9:30 and time for bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-7696522267248775873?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/7696522267248775873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=7696522267248775873&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/7696522267248775873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/7696522267248775873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/09/who-is-old.html' title='Who is Old?'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SMbYAC8BMKI/AAAAAAAAAEs/skt9GH_dFbs/s72-c/mr_six_old_guy_lg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-8810120823231173450</id><published>2008-09-08T14:51:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T18:26:13.468-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Full</title><content type='html'>We bought an older house 15 years ago that is on 1.7 acres of land with a lot of natural space in the back and on the sides. We loved the space and location and were aware when we bought it that we would have the wonderful opportunity to 'fix it up'. Fifteen years later it is even older and we are still haven't got it 'fixed up'! Bathrooms, carpet, kitchen, painting, porches, basement, windows, plumbing, driveway, and the yard! Some of these have been completed, or started, but most haven't. I don't think we will ever get through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at lunch I was listening to our new Rescue Minister, Jim Russell, talking about downsizing, and it made me start thinking. Is all the work worth the space and location ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I think my answer to that is YES. It is worth it. For you see, I have a basement to store all of my children's and grandchildren's stuff. When children move out they don't take everything! This gives them a reason to come see us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My large yard is a great place for friends to store their cars, trucks, boats, and camping trailers, which their neighborhoods won't allow. This makes me a very popular and valuable friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister even gave us an old playhouse, that I had to haul up here from Lexington, SC. It was headed for the dump when she found it. It's for my grandchildren, but it's still in our yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My yard and house have kind of a 'Goodwill' or 'Miracle Hill' feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is fun being a blessing, but if you have something to store, don't call me. I'm full!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-8810120823231173450?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/8810120823231173450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=8810120823231173450&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8810120823231173450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8810120823231173450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-full.html' title='I&apos;m Full'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-7286376704902249630</id><published>2008-09-03T22:29:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T16:42:03.145-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My mother turns 80</title><content type='html'>My mother will turn 80 in a few days and I thought I would take this time to tell you how much she has affected my life and the lives of my siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My mother gave us:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weak stomachs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weak memories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An almost average sense of fashion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great appreciation of meat and potatoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad eyesight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some what questionable math skills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good hair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She gave us..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an appreciation and love for music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a sense of humor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a loving home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dramatic personalities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She showed us...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that we receive great blessings when we give to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how to be honest by being honest with us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how to love by loving us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how to forgive by forgiving us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how to have patience by being patient with us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how to laugh by laughing with us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What it means to be a good parent by being the best one she could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Mom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-7286376704902249630?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/7286376704902249630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=7286376704902249630&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/7286376704902249630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/7286376704902249630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-mother-turns-80.html' title='My mother turns 80'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-737086120856282548</id><published>2008-09-03T19:18:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T14:11:01.158-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The spell has been broken!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SL_8pWdD51I/AAAAAAAAAEU/vADJYgnngSE/s1600-h/cartoons_53.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242186278614853458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SL_8pWdD51I/AAAAAAAAAEU/vADJYgnngSE/s200/cartoons_53.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Over my lifetime I have been blessed to have had a lot of friends. I was even voted 'Friendliest' in High School. I can hardly go anywhere that I don't meet someone who knows me. My sisters get a little perturbed when they meet people that say, "Oh, you must be Robbie's sister". My children often say "Do you know everybody?" My oldest son , Brian, went to Sunday School at another church while he was away at school and his teacher asked "are you Robbie Sox's son? I dated him in high school."&lt;br /&gt;My wife asks, when I go out of town or to a meeting, "Who did you see that you know?" On our honeymoon in Gatlinburg I ran into someone on the street that I knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Youth went to Wyoming a few years back and someone there asked Karen Haun if she knew me. One friend says "hanging out with Robbie in the Lowcountry is like hanging out with Elvis!" My mother's minister of music told her the other day "I saw Robbie last weekend at a music retreat and he must have been the most popular person at the retreat. Everyone there seemed to be a friend of his!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say all this to share with you that I think the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;spell has been broken&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;! I took the sound and media crew out to dinner last week for a much deserved 'THANK YOU' for all the time and work they put into making our services run smoothly. Our waitress for the night walked up to Roger Cole and said that she recognized him from church. I've been working at Brushy Creek for 15 years! My name is in the bulletin! Did she say anything to me? NO! She didn't even know who I was, and I paid the bill!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife's sympathetic response.... "How the mighty have fallen!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister's are going to love this BLOG!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-737086120856282548?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/737086120856282548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=737086120856282548&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/737086120856282548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/737086120856282548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/09/spell-has-been-broken.html' title='The spell has been broken!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SL_8pWdD51I/AAAAAAAAAEU/vADJYgnngSE/s72-c/cartoons_53.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-3361102576362594078</id><published>2008-08-26T10:38:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T11:42:07.841-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What a daughter-in-law!</title><content type='html'>In writing my last blog I left out how wonderful my daughter-in-law Angela is. How thankful I am to her for reminding me of that. We are thankful also to her for loving our son and providing three beautiful grandchildren for us. My whole family loves her. My sisters and mother ask about her and what she is up to on a regular basis. What a daughter-in-law!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has become another daughter to me in many ways. For example; she always has an something to say about the way I dress. She even gives me shirts she finds at garage sales. She encouraged to stop me parting my hair in the middle. There are comments on the type of undershirts I wear and when I wear them. She likes to tell me what matches and what doesn't. What a daughter-in-law!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is a planner and organizer. She raises three children and runs her own business from her home. She has encouraged Amanda and Brian to move closer to home so they could share the joy of taking care of us when we get old. That shows that she is preparing to wheel us around , change our clothes, and feed us when that time comes. What a daughter-in-law!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Shining Light , A Breath of Fresh Air, A Wonderful Mother, A Brilliant Business Woman, and A Loving Wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this enough to get me out of the dog house?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-3361102576362594078?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/3361102576362594078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=3361102576362594078&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3361102576362594078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3361102576362594078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-daughter-in-law.html' title='What a daughter-in-law!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-4159061854698299882</id><published>2008-08-21T08:00:00.019-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T11:07:03.941-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise,Suprise,Suprise!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SK1lTGRiwgI/AAAAAAAAAEE/HKaLtBkS9eY/s1600-h/SA400032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236953320477868546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SK1lTGRiwgI/AAAAAAAAAEE/HKaLtBkS9eY/s200/SA400032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have mentioned that my Little Princess is now in LA seeking her fame and fortune. She's worked in NY, Mass, and VA in the past few years. So far, fortune has passed her by, but she is famous with the 'Sox Clan'. She does have a Jeep Liberty with 130,000 miles and two part time jobs. She is a personal assistant and room organizer! To all of us who have seen her room at home or in college this is surprising!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My oldest son Brian is living his dream of being a video game programmer and is married to Kerri, a wonderful woman that we all adore. He lives in Orlando and has lived in NY and Atlanta. This is a kid that couldn't find his way home from church or the video store. Now he has lived from one end of the east coast to the other! Surprising!   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jason, our middle child, is married to Angela and has three beautiful children. Who, by the way, love their Granddaddy and Grandmommy! He bought a house that was severely neglected and turned it into a wonderful home. He travels all over the USA with his job but still has the time to be a carpenter, painter, plumber, computer engineer, and father; he can do it all. He never showed that talent when he was in our home. He always loved the finer things not broken things! Surprising! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What did Christine and I do to have such talented and adventurous children? Those of you who know us well, know that adventure is not our way of life. Life is suprising isn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-4159061854698299882?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/4159061854698299882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=4159061854698299882&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4159061854698299882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4159061854698299882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/08/surprisesuprisesuprise.html' title='Surprise,Suprise,Suprise!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SK1lTGRiwgI/AAAAAAAAAEE/HKaLtBkS9eY/s72-c/SA400032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-8038749041361981528</id><published>2008-08-19T08:30:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T14:08:09.377-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pastors' Camp</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SKsJ2Z1jcLI/AAAAAAAAAD0/7pJYg2tKGYc/s1600-h/hilton_sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236289822001426610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SKsJ2Z1jcLI/AAAAAAAAAD0/7pJYg2tKGYc/s200/hilton_sign.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For the past few years the pastors at Brushy Creek have taken our church children to camp for three days and two nights. We feel that is a great way to get to know the children in our church and for them to get to know us. The kids are all excited to get away for a couple of days of fun. We thought that they were excited about getting to know their pastors, but I have come to believe that they just like to get away and have fun! It doesn't hurt our egos that they could care less if we are there or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing we did this year was to take the children to Dairy Queen for an special afternoon experience. I received a text from one of our secretaries while we were there ordering, she asked "how are things going?" I texted back "49 in DQ. How do you think?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;We always look for ways to make the camp experience better each year. Here are some of my suggestions for next year.&lt;/p&gt;We should choose a camp sponsored by Hilton or Marriott. Not having to sleep in a sleeping bag on a plastic covered mattress in a bunk bed could be a positive thing. The 'older' pastors could leave their Ambien and Tylenol PM at home. The chance of having &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SKsLOzWpXQI/AAAAAAAAAD8/pPkQpClFCVU/s1600-h/tylenol_pm_logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;dresser drawers and closets to put your clothes in so the 'old' people wouldn't trip over bags , shoes, socks, and underwear (clean and dirty) on their way to the bathroom during the night, would be a plus. Daily maid service would head off the distinctive smell that comes from 8 little boys in one room for three days and two nights without changing clothes or taking showers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An indoor pool for those who enjoy not getting sunburned, and an outdoor one for those who enjoy a more 'natural' camp experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lake with fish that bite and paddle boats that are easy to paddle. A mountain to hike that has a jeep at the top for the ride down. The only yellow jackets you see during the camp are the ones you put on when the air conditioner gets the room a little too cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even without these things next year, we will still have a great time getting to know Brushy Creek Kids!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-8038749041361981528?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/8038749041361981528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=8038749041361981528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8038749041361981528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8038749041361981528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/08/pastors-camp.html' title='Pastors&apos; Camp'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SKsJ2Z1jcLI/AAAAAAAAAD0/7pJYg2tKGYc/s72-c/hilton_sign.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-1904300409198789147</id><published>2008-08-18T14:20:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T15:20:16.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Robots in Church</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SKnLY1HotuI/AAAAAAAAADk/7u6zZYBC1ZI/s1600-h/c3po+-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235939669231318754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SKnLY1HotuI/AAAAAAAAADk/7u6zZYBC1ZI/s320/c3po+-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Believe it or not I have a friend that reads my blog! Randy, you may not get our newsletter so I am publishing an article I wrote in this month's edition that you may enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill gates wrote an article in the &lt;strong&gt;Scientific American&lt;/strong&gt; magazine about the next wave of technology that is happening right now, the development of robots. He pointed out that we already have robots making our cars, helping diffuse roadside bombs, and vacuuming our floors, but these machines can’t sense their environments or see for themselves (like C-3PO) yet. But that is coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where will the church fit into that developing technology? Maybe they will clean our restrooms, cut our grass, change our babies’ diapers, or run our sound for the worship services.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They may even lead in our worship services. Robots could produce the sound of a thousand people or play all the orchestra instruments at one time! (We already have keyboards that produce instrumental and vocal sounds now.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But until we get those robots, why don’t you get involved in what may soon be the ‘last generation’ of live people leading the music in our worship services? Come join the choir and orchestra and let’s not give in to these illegals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-1904300409198789147?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/1904300409198789147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=1904300409198789147&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/1904300409198789147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/1904300409198789147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/08/robots-in-church.html' title='Robots in Church'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SKnLY1HotuI/AAAAAAAAADk/7u6zZYBC1ZI/s72-c/c3po+-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-4187478346449842725</id><published>2008-08-01T07:46:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T15:20:05.453-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You've Got A Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SJNg27FeOUI/AAAAAAAAADM/0_dH-rfQGog/s1600-h/spacebook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229630088997124418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SJNg27FeOUI/AAAAAAAAADM/0_dH-rfQGog/s400/spacebook.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Carol King/ James Taylor song 'You've Got A Friend' has never been so true as it is today! I signed up for '&lt;a href="http://facebook.com/"&gt;Facebook&lt;/a&gt;' a week ago. I was calling it 'Spacebook' until a young choir member, Lindsey, corrected me. I tried for a week to sign up myself but it wouldn't accept me. That was a pretty low feeling not being accepted by a program that connects friends! Finally my secretary Rebecca, our College Minister Angela, and our 'Web Master' Colette, signed me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would I want to sign up, you ask? A friend from out of town emailed me and asked me to look at some family pictures on 'Facebook' so that is what I tried to do. Since getting signed up I get requests from 10 to 16 people every day asking if I will be their friend! So, if you ever feel that no one cares, or you want to stay on the computer all day answering IM's, go to 'Facebook' and get yourself some friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh by the way, my out of town friend only had 6 pictures on her site for me to view and to be honest, they weren't worth the effort!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-4187478346449842725?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/4187478346449842725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=4187478346449842725&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4187478346449842725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4187478346449842725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/08/youve-got-friend.html' title='You&apos;ve Got A Friend'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SJNg27FeOUI/AAAAAAAAADM/0_dH-rfQGog/s72-c/spacebook.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-7935599061316364387</id><published>2008-07-15T16:37:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T14:12:58.570-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Halibut  Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SIDbghjlDKI/AAAAAAAAACk/WPt9qa4wdqY/s1600-h/Halibut%2BEndeavor%2B2002%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224416919559670946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SIDbghjlDKI/AAAAAAAAACk/WPt9qa4wdqY/s200/Halibut%2BEndeavor%2B2002%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Some people have asked if I was able to go fishing while I was in Alaska for our mission trip. Yes I did, it was a Halibut Trip. We arrived in Alaska on Friday, and Saturday morning at 4:30 I left, with Rodney &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Haun&lt;/span&gt; and Henry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Jamieson&lt;/span&gt;, for a whole day of fishing. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We hired a guy name Frank to take us out on what I thought was going to be, and turned out to be, a lifelong memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We met Frank at his house and loaded into his truck and headed to the landing. They didn't have a paved ramp that you backed your boat down to the water. You took your trailer off the truck and a big tractor hooked up to it and launched your boat from the beach. It was quite impressive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was glad that I had a rain suit with a hood. The wind was blowing pretty good and it was a little cool. As the day went on the wind blew harder making conditions for fishing a little rough. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Henry started the day catching two stingrays and proceeded to start throwing up! He spent the rest of the trip lying down, getting up only to throw up and empty the throw-up bucket (which also was used during the day as a urinal and something to collect water to wash off the fish cleaning board ). There is a two fish limit per person. So we had all day to catch 6 huge Halibuts! Well, it didn't quite work out the way we had planned. Because of the bad weather we were not throwing the small ones back. We had a hard enough time catching our two and Henry's. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We caught the last one around 1:00 PM. Most people would have stayed out to about 5 or 6PM but we were getting beat up pretty bad by the weather so we packed up the rods and and tackle and Captain Frank started to crank the motor. You have guessed it already I am sure, the motor didn't crank! He tried and tried but nothing happened. I looked at Rodney after a big wave broke over the back of the boat, "I am going to be sick" and sure enough I lost my breakfast (we hadn't had lunch yet).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The memories are starting! The smell of gas and rocking of the boat made for an interesting afternoon. Captain Frank pulled the anchor up and we started drifting with the tide back toward&lt;br /&gt;the landing. Captain Frank worked on the motor, called friends (who said they couldn't come because it was too rough), called his wife and got her to bring a 5 gal gas can full of gas to the landing, and called other boats, that the people at the landing said were out on this rough day. He used his cell phone to do the calling because his radio didn't work! The cell phone battery was going down pretty fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drifted until about 5 PM when another charter boat came and towed us about a mile from the landing. We tried to tie up to their boat and unload us onto their boat but the rough seas broke the ropes! There was no way we could get Big 'sick' Henry into that boat anyway! They couldn't take us to the landing because there was no way to get the boat on the trailer without power, and with the wind and waves pounding us. We had to wait until the tide turned again so it could push us in toward the landing. The boat that towed us went to the landing and unloaded their passengers and brought us the 5 gal. can of gas his wife dropped off . We hooked the new gas to the trolling motor and when the tide changed we headed toward the shore. Riding the waves , we surfed up on the trailer and 4 young people jumped in the water and hooked us up to the trailer and the tractor pulled us out. We got out of the boat at 7 PM. Drifting for over 6 hours!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were heading home Captain Frank asked us if we would like to go to a Chinese Restaurant for supper! Henry had come back to life after he got off the boat, but we still didn't want to eat Chinese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some questions from me to Captain Frank:&lt;br /&gt;1. Where are your friends? What kind of guy has no one who will come help him? Get some new friends!&lt;br /&gt;2. Where is the Coast Guard? They were too far away to come help us! What good is a Coast Guard that can't come that far?&lt;br /&gt;3. How can you think of Chinese food after all this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alaskan memories..A Halibut Day &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-7935599061316364387?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/7935599061316364387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=7935599061316364387&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/7935599061316364387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/7935599061316364387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/07/halibut-day.html' title='A Halibut  Day'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SIDbghjlDKI/AAAAAAAAACk/WPt9qa4wdqY/s72-c/Halibut%2BEndeavor%2B2002%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-813668136932082464</id><published>2008-07-08T14:28:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T16:36:51.855-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Traditional Service</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;We have two different services here at Brushy Creek. I lead the music at the Traditional one and our Associate Pastor David Kay leads the Contemporary one. We have a great relationship and help each other out when needed. I realized this past week, while I was helping out, why I am only doing the Traditional Service. They have the lights turned down so low in the Contemporary Service I can't read anything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me start thinking about who would fit better in the Traditional service than the Contemporary one. I composed Ten 'suggestions' of who might be suited for the Traditional Service. I am sure there are more and would love to hear your thoughts .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Top Ten Reasons You Might Be Suited for the Traditional Worship Service &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Your registration for ‘My Space’ and ‘Facebook’ is rejected.&lt;br /&gt;9. You think a Blog is something you get in your kitchen sink.&lt;br /&gt;8. You need more light to read your bulletin.&lt;br /&gt;7. The cymbals on the drums affect your hearing aids.&lt;br /&gt;6. Your Bible is the large print edition.&lt;br /&gt;5. You wake up early.&lt;br /&gt;4. You understand 'Southern Gospel' and enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;3. Choirs inspire you.&lt;br /&gt;2. You love hymns, not because they are old, but because they are good.&lt;br /&gt;1. You know God loves all styles of worship and that is not a problem. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-813668136932082464?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/813668136932082464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=813668136932082464&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/813668136932082464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/813668136932082464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/07/traditional-service.html' title='Traditional Service'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-587046405470675205</id><published>2008-07-04T12:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T13:43:40.839-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What A Country!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;We live in a great country! I have been talking to mechanic online about  a car problem I've had  for  over a month .  Imagine doing car repair online?  What country!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I came across something the other day for those of us who are not able to play sports like we used to. It is called Fantasy Sports. You pick your team online and track their progress. You can draft or trade players just like the pros. You can have the same power,  just not the money, a big league owner or manager has. What a country!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medical advice online, car repair online, sports online, church online,  shopping online, the list goes on and on.  Don't worry about gas anymore, stay at home and do some online traveling! What a country!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to close now,  it's a pretty day and I have to take out the online garbage, cut my online grass, and do some Fantasy Fishing before it gets too hot.  What a country!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-587046405470675205?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/587046405470675205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=587046405470675205&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/587046405470675205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/587046405470675205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-country.html' title='What A Country!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-2991039217646906021</id><published>2008-07-02T07:08:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T09:27:08.807-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spare us</title><content type='html'>Amanda is in LA now and has moved into her apartment. She and her mother have been talking everyday and most days multiple times. I am glad to have her call her mother.  It makes her mother happy and when 'moma's happy everybody's happy'.  When she calls me it is for one or two reasons, the car, or she can't find Christine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has a few friends there in LA that she has met over the past few years . One guy brought her a meal and groceries, one guy took her to a movie.  She said that she and one other guy were just going to hang out the next day.  Where are the women ??  Did she not make any girl friends?  Don't get me wrong, I am glad that she has men she can call on for protection and support but Daddy doesn't need to know about all of them. It is hard enough to let her go so far away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is, tell us the stuff that we can handle, like; "she has a job',  'the car is doing  great', 'she has a job' , ' she fixed her own toilet',  'she has a job'.   Spare us 'man' stuff and truly &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;everybody&lt;/span&gt; will be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-2991039217646906021?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/2991039217646906021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=2991039217646906021&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/2991039217646906021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/2991039217646906021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/07/spare-us.html' title='Spare us'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-4716875972700176547</id><published>2008-06-24T08:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T08:33:01.305-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Peach Milkshake</title><content type='html'>I went walking Saturday evening after supper. I haven't walked for a few weeks. Boy, was it hot! So, off to the Sonic we went. On the way to Sonic, we were almost in one ugly wreck! I was waiting for a car to pass so I could turn left at the light. Out of nowhere a black truck flashed before my eyes! Someone ran the red light and about took us out. I have heard people say "They never saw it coming" now I understand how that could happen. I don't know how that truck missed hitting us. I just set there in the middle of the intersection wondering what had just happened. After I got my breath we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;continued&lt;/span&gt; to Sonic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The peach m&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ilkshake&lt;/span&gt; was almost worth the trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-4716875972700176547?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/4716875972700176547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=4716875972700176547&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4716875972700176547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/4716875972700176547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/06/good-peach-milkshake.html' title='A Good Peach Milkshake'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-6866930079462018408</id><published>2008-06-22T11:01:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T08:59:07.627-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SF-d48wZOVI/AAAAAAAAAB8/J52NHEs6F-s/s1600-h/Robbie+lost.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215060495225665874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SF-d48wZOVI/AAAAAAAAAB8/J52NHEs6F-s/s400/Robbie+lost.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I have been busy lately and haven't had the time or energy to write. I've have a boat load of experiences to share but no time to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in Alaska on a mission trip and from June 6 through the 15. We spend 33 hours getting home from Nikiski, Alaska. Arriving in Greenville at 12:30 AM on the 16th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanda came home on the 15th. We have been working to get her ready to leave for L.A. on Thursday the 19th. My men's softball team had two games on Tuesday. I have been in the office, sang at a funeral, visited the hospitals, and had rehearsals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanda left for L.A. on Thursday morning (after I went to the Jeep dealership to get a tail light assembly for her car and put it on). She has moved out there to pursue here acting dreams. Please pray for her and us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traveling , car problems , no sleep, saying goodbye to our baby, losing to the other Brushy Creek softball team, on top of all that Jason has been real sick. All this is enough to make you not feel like writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the thousands (or 4) who look forward each day to see what is going on with Me , &lt;em&gt;I'm Back!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-6866930079462018408?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/6866930079462018408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=6866930079462018408&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6866930079462018408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6866930079462018408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SF-d48wZOVI/AAAAAAAAAB8/J52NHEs6F-s/s72-c/Robbie+lost.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-3255077903376500389</id><published>2008-06-04T09:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T09:45:02.761-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back to walking</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SEVipnZXr7I/AAAAAAAAABk/R81ZUOrDm94/s1600-h/sonic.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207677011213397938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SEVipnZXr7I/AAAAAAAAABk/R81ZUOrDm94/s200/sonic.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have started walking again but I wonder if walking helps with weight loss? If you walk 3 miles and need a slushy from the '&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Sonic&lt;/span&gt;' to cool you down is that bad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think walking is more about stress release, enjoying what the neighbors are doing or building, showing off new shoes, or fellowship, if you are walking with friends. Walking with friends is probably the best way to walk. You get to learn about their work , family or what their neighbors are doing (sounds a little like gossip).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is good to have others to keep you accountable. Walking or dieting, it helps to have someone else involved with you in the process. It is good to have someone else to walk with because carpooling to the &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;'Sonic'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;saves gas!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-3255077903376500389?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/3255077903376500389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=3255077903376500389&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3255077903376500389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3255077903376500389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-back-to-walking.html' title='I&apos;m back to walking'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SEVipnZXr7I/AAAAAAAAABk/R81ZUOrDm94/s72-c/sonic.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-6256995567879150819</id><published>2008-06-03T10:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T11:16:40.619-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What a guitarist!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SEVgKSkcTOI/AAAAAAAAABc/EkotQdHz_lY/s1600-h/rrcolor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207674274023492834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SEVgKSkcTOI/AAAAAAAAABc/EkotQdHz_lY/s200/rrcolor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had &lt;a href="http://rodrigorodriguez.net/"&gt;Rodrigo Rodriguez&lt;/a&gt; play guitar for us this past Sunday at Brushy Creek. He was fabulous!&lt;br /&gt;Every note was pure, and played with ease and grace. It was truly a worship service. God has blessed our new friend Rodrigo. I look forward to having him back again for a full service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He mentioned that he and his wife Mary had three children. One in California, one in Florida and one here in Greer. I was feeling bad that his family was so spread out when I remembered that our son Brian and his wife Keri are living in Florida and Amanda is moving to California this month. Sounds like another blog coming!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-6256995567879150819?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/6256995567879150819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=6256995567879150819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6256995567879150819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6256995567879150819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-guitarist.html' title='What a guitarist!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SEVgKSkcTOI/AAAAAAAAABc/EkotQdHz_lY/s72-c/rrcolor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-3024890698656872846</id><published>2008-05-27T22:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T09:29:04.962-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduates</title><content type='html'>I was thinking Sunday, as I saw the high school graduates walk across the stage, their parents are going through what Christine and I had to go through 3 times already. If it was their first child they were all heart broken about their little babies leaving home. If if were the second or last child leaving, their feeling were a little different. They felt like Martin Luther King, "Free At Last, Free At Last..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a natural progression to have your child grow up and leave home. The problem comes after the first year when they come home again. They don't want to be there and you wouldn't mind if they weren't. Having an 'empty nest' is not so bad. When they are not at home there are cookies in the jar, milk in the frig, and TV and lights are off at a decent hour. Their bed stays made and their room stays clean. There is less laundry to do and Mom and Dad can go out to eat whenever they want. There are no strange people coming to your house at all hours to watch movies, so you can sit around in your underwear. You don't worry about where they are or when they are coming home . No more putting someone on restriction because we all know their restriction restricts you also (sometimes more) . No more checking homework or getting calls from the teacher. The list goes on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some graduate and stay at home. That is another blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, time changes things. Soon you will wish they would call or come home more. You miss all the things that used to get on your nerves. You stay home from a dinner out with your spouse because they might stop by for a visit. The list goes on and on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Graduation is confusing, for parent and child!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-3024890698656872846?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/3024890698656872846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=3024890698656872846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3024890698656872846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/3024890698656872846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/graduates.html' title='Graduates'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-6991473053652803363</id><published>2008-05-26T09:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T09:15:29.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Making family memories</title><content type='html'>My son, Jason, and his wife, Angela, decided to take their little family to the Riverbanks Zoo and then down to the beach Friday. Jason said the zoo was smaller than he remembered. He hasn't been there since he was in elementary school. Everything seems smaller now days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They headed to the beach after enjoying the zoo. This wouldn't have been a bad idea if it hadn't been 'Black Biker Week'! The town is jammed with bikers on what we call 'Crotch Rockets' with girls on the back hanging on. The 'Crotch Rocket' is the kind of bike that the rider has lean forward to drive, and they go real fast! The person on the back also has to lean forward to hang onto the driver. Angela said that all you could see was behinds  (Everything isn't smaller now days!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-6991473053652803363?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/6991473053652803363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=6991473053652803363&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6991473053652803363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6991473053652803363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/making-family-memories.html' title='Making family memories'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-1116119032998582083</id><published>2008-05-22T09:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T12:25:19.628-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Citizens</title><content type='html'>What do you think of when you hear the term senior citizens?  People who can't hear so they speak so loud that everyone around them hears everything they say?  Someone who walks or drives so slow you are constantly looking for ways to pass?  Guys with old ball caps or ladies with big bags of knitting?  Walkers, wheelchairs, or blue hair?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, some of these can be true but mostly they are just patriotic Americans who have worked hard all their lives.  Some are still working just to pay for insurance and gas in their cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are blessed to have a group of senior adults here that minister.  Our Merry Makers have a ministry that they participate in every month.  We have seniors going on mission trips regularly. Our SAM group has had over 20,000 ministry visits in the last 9 years.  They are doing what God called us all to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why don't you kiss or hug a senior adult today. Someday it could be you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-1116119032998582083?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/1116119032998582083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=1116119032998582083&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/1116119032998582083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/1116119032998582083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/senior-adults.html' title='Senior Citizens'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-7165201728186337064</id><published>2008-05-19T13:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T15:12:46.842-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Day</title><content type='html'>Saturday was a good day. I started the day at The Waffle House , just me , the sports page, and greasy food. Went to pick up blades for my lawn mower and came home and put them on. Then I worked on my chain saw. It has been broken for a few months now, but I got it back together and working. I got my fishing tackle ready for a trip to Lake Robinson and sprayed 'Roundup' on my weeds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went inside to put my fishing clothes on and my lovely wife mentioned, "The Upstate Shakespeare Festival's first production of the season is tonight. Do you want go tonight or next weekend" ? The wind was blowing a little strong for my little boat, so I said I guess we could get it over with tonight. She packed a picnic and off we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to get to Falls Park Ampitheather about an hour early to get on the front row. It is good for me to get on the front row. I need to see the play because I can't understand the words. I have been listening to and about Shakespeare since Amanda got this acting bug. She and Christy have thick Shakespeare books that tell about each play and books with his complete plays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of Shakespeare's plays have someone fighting, dying, someone lost at sea, two siblings separated at birth (or separated at sea) a girl acting like a boy only to find that her true love died (at sea) trying to find her. It confusing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is more confusing to have the actors play multiple roles. The King could be a pirate just minutes later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew I was in trouble this time because before I got to eat my fried chicken and potato salad, Christy gave me a Shakespeare for dummies book and said "Here, you need to read this before it starts". The synopsis was confusing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it through the play and even gave them a dollar afterwards (I figured the fight was worth that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have been on the lake or laying on the couch watching the Braves but I would have missed the fried chicken , fight scene, and sharing in something my wife loves to do, and that makes it a good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-7165201728186337064?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/7165201728186337064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=7165201728186337064&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/7165201728186337064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/7165201728186337064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/good-day.html' title='A Good Day'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-873310745100258945</id><published>2008-05-14T18:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T09:58:57.808-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Team</title><content type='html'>Well, my softball team lost their second game Monday night. It is hard for them to believe that they could lose. That might not be a such a bad feeling. It is good to know who you are and what your strengths are. Not to live up to those should upset you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a kick out of two of my players, Hunter and Aaron, describing the 'Rednecks' they saw at the race in Darlington this past weekend. They said that they had never seen so many 'Rednecks'. I asked them, "have you looked in a mirror lately? Who do you think you are?" They had 'Hunt Club' on the back of their softball jerseys last year. The wear hats with fish hooks on them. They all drive BIG trucks with hunting and fishing decals and NASCAR numbers on them. I could say more but I won't. Our whole team is made up of 'Rednecks'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it so much fun to be with them? Along with being the fastest team in the league, they are who they are, no facade, they work hard and play hard. A good group of young men, who respect their elders (which is hard to find these days) and with hearts of gold. It must be working for them because they all have jobs , dates and BIG trucks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if I can get them to pay their registration fee I will be a happier coach!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-873310745100258945?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/873310745100258945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=873310745100258945&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/873310745100258945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/873310745100258945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-team.html' title='My Team'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-802092740842243084</id><published>2008-05-13T21:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T22:36:30.323-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Baby Sister turns 40</title><content type='html'>My baby sister turned 40 yesterday and we had a party for her last Saturday. She said that she wanted it to be a big party because we probably won't be here for, or feel like celebrating,  her 50th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has always been kind of spoiled. She was born when I was 17 . My family, like most families we knew in the 60's, had only one car. I was promised that we would get another car and I wouldn't have to date in the big family station wagon (tanks back then) anymore. Well Stacie came along and there went the new car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that I didn't  love her,  but I do think I missed out on a lot of dates because of not having  that car (I don't think it was my complexion).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stacie turned out to be quite a blessing . My mother says that a car wouldn't have been near as much fun. I know it wouldn't have lasted 40 years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-802092740842243084?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/802092740842243084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=802092740842243084&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/802092740842243084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/802092740842243084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-baby-sister-turns-40.html' title='My Baby Sister turns 40'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-8810809524840655988</id><published>2008-05-12T15:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T16:02:27.879-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Out Of The Box</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;How many times have you heard the phrase "Think Outside The Box" or " Get Outside The Box"? I was thinking about the 'box' &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SCih8P9YdhI/AAAAAAAAABI/2oaWdTI1MA4/s1600-h/box.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199583826247448082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SCih8P9YdhI/AAAAAAAAABI/2oaWdTI1MA4/s200/box.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;this morning and realized being in the 'box' is not that bad! If a batter steps outside the batter's box he is called out or misses the pitch. A basketball coach has to stay in the coach's box or get charged with a foul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend mentioned that his father-in-law loved to wrap presents in multiple boxes. I enjoy having a gift that is wrapped in a box. When I order something I like it to come in a box to protect the object in shipping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why not stay in the box? What is wrong with safety? What is wrong with comfort? What is wrong with security?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that "getting out of the box" is all about change. I think those who think something is bad just because it is old need to "Think in the Box" or look around"inside the box" for awhile and see if it is still strong enough to meet your needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't recycle every box you have, you might need it later. Just ask my friend Rodney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dancing with the one that brought ya" ain't that bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-8810809524840655988?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/8810809524840655988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=8810809524840655988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8810809524840655988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8810809524840655988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/out-of-box.html' title='Out Of The Box'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/SCih8P9YdhI/AAAAAAAAABI/2oaWdTI1MA4/s72-c/box.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-40537443773991077</id><published>2008-05-09T16:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T17:21:26.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty good wife</title><content type='html'>Today after therapy on my shoulder I called Christy and said I was going to Waffle House with a friend. She said "that's fine". After breakfast I went home and found Christy baking a cake for Mother's Day. That was in between putting down baseboard and shoe molding in our kitchen. I asked if she needed any help. "Not right now". So I said I was going to put my boat into the lake so I could work on my trailer. She said, " sounds good, do you want to take a sandwich?" I came home from the lake "did you catch anything?" I started getting dressed for my softball game "do you want supper before you leave or afterwards?" &lt;br /&gt;She seems to enjoy seeing me relax. I shared this with a friend and he said it sounded like she enjoys the time off also!&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the reason, she is still a pretty good wife!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-40537443773991077?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/40537443773991077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=40537443773991077&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/40537443773991077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/40537443773991077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/pretty-good-wife.html' title='Pretty good wife'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-7914118356675115873</id><published>2008-05-07T07:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T11:12:51.228-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Saturday!</title><content type='html'>What a Saturday! I cut my grass then went and rocked my grandson Luke while Jason and Angela worked outside. He and his granddad both went to sleep in the rocker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to a wedding of two wonderful young people and it was a nice wedding. I knew I was getting older but I didn't know I was old until I heard the processional by 'Radiohead' and the recessional by 'U.N.K.L.E.'. That was an experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the day wasn't over. That evening we attended the Symphony. The choir and orchestra gave us tickets to Greenville Orchestra's presentation of Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 2, "Resurrection". &lt;br /&gt;That was impressive! In the fourth movement two ladies, one from Texas and one from New York,  came out and sang with the Orchestra. That was a waste! I didn't understand them (even the one singing in English) and they only sang for a couple of minutes. Why get all dressed up and fly into Greenville for a couple of minutes of singing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Radiohead and Mahler in the same day! But rocking Luke is something that I understood. I'm Blessed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-7914118356675115873?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/7914118356675115873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=7914118356675115873&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/7914118356675115873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/7914118356675115873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-saturday.html' title='What a Saturday!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-979667829315788113</id><published>2008-05-03T07:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T08:47:14.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Soccer!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My granddaughter has started playing soccer. This is a tragic event in my life! I don't know anything about soccer and really don't want to learn. Now, because of love, I have to start going to soccer games or matches, whatever they are called. What happened to little girls playing hopscotch or dress up? When did little girls have to start playing soccer? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-979667829315788113?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/979667829315788113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=979667829315788113&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/979667829315788113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/979667829315788113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/not-soccer.html' title='Not Soccer!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-6030002235673956221</id><published>2008-05-02T08:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T17:28:13.822-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Physical therapy</title><content type='html'>Today is physical therapy day. I've gone to therapy for a little over a month now for a shoulder pain that has been with me for over a year or two. I am a little frustrated that I still have some pain when I move the arm in a certain position. But I still go because I like the attention from the ladies there. They make you think they opened the  doors to this office just for you. Jennifer or Michelle rubs your shoulder and Joe (Joan) brings you coffee when it's time for the ice pack and a magazine. I have a lot of things in my life that I enjoy but this one, I think, is short lived. Oh well, Mother's Day coming and when we go to visit my mother she will rub my shoulder and make me coffee! Just ask my sisters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-6030002235673956221?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/6030002235673956221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=6030002235673956221&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6030002235673956221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/6030002235673956221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/05/physical-therapy.html' title='Physical therapy'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-361036741536784952</id><published>2008-05-01T10:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T07:17:15.029-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bonding</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My number 2 son (who lives here in town) and I had a bonding experience last Friday. We went to the county dump together. I think that every man should take his son to the dump before he dies. You can fish, hunt, play golf, work on cars, or play ping pong, but a trip to the dump is the manly thing to do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had my 96 Chevy S10 filled with old lumber to the top of the bed and ready to go when my daughter in-law said it would be nice if we took an old clothes dryer also. Yep, we loaded the dryer on top of the lumber, tied it down, and like the Clampets, down Pelham Road we went. There is nothing like bonding with your son. It was a great day! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-361036741536784952?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/361036741536784952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=361036741536784952&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/361036741536784952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/361036741536784952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/04/bonding.html' title='Bonding'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-5117786930296330260</id><published>2008-04-30T09:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T13:48:19.833-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the Last Word</title><content type='html'>In a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;recent&lt;/span&gt; newsletter article I mentioned that sometimes blessings can be a curse. Like having so many females in my life that I never get the last word. This article was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;inspired by&lt;/span&gt; my beautiful , talented and loving daughter Amanda. In the article, after 3 different people &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;proofed&lt;/span&gt; it, we left out my daughter as one of those females! I know I couldn't have made a mistake like that because she was, as I've said , the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;inspiration&lt;/span&gt; for the article.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that again I didn't get the last word . Every woman that has read the article has reminded me that Amanda was left out. I give up! You can have the last...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-5117786930296330260?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/5117786930296330260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=5117786930296330260&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/5117786930296330260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/5117786930296330260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/04/last-word.html' title='the Last Word'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3562182881189853190.post-8733463346742303792</id><published>2008-04-29T16:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T16:26:24.585-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok I am blogging!</title><content type='html'>Our Communication team here at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BCBC&lt;/span&gt; says that it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;imperative&lt;/span&gt; that everyone blog. Well , I am the 'everyone' that they have been talking about. If they were so good with communication why did &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; use the word 'everyone' &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;when&lt;/span&gt; they could have said 'Robbie'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They win, I am on the BLOGGING EXPRESS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;blogged&lt;/span&gt; before because I don't think,write, or sometimes speak, in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;complete&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sentences.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Spelling never has been one of my strong points either. But, here I am Blogging, just like I have good sense!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;I have a lot of things, or thoughts, rolling around in my head, maybe blogging will help to release the pressure. You know, like having a tire with too much air can cause uneven wear. I think that might be the reason for the uneven wear on my body!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Looking forward to spending time with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3562182881189853190-8733463346742303792?l=lostsox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/feeds/8733463346742303792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3562182881189853190&amp;postID=8733463346742303792&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8733463346742303792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3562182881189853190/posts/default/8733463346742303792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lostsox.blogspot.com/2008/04/ok-i-am-blogging.html' title='Ok I am blogging!'/><author><name>Lost Sox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16231986446297694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fM2jwbzkfEg/R1he05HbLhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zJDufhi6ivE/S220/lost+sox.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
