<?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-21129487</id><updated>2011-05-03T03:47:35.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>He said... She said...  aka The Jeff and Amy Show</title><subtitle type='html'>What is in a word?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-7470635393941005005</id><published>2008-04-20T15:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T16:07:28.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Passover</title><content type='html'>Today is Passover.  It is a day for God's power to be shown and slaves to be set free.&lt;br /&gt;I was reading an article in the news paper yesterday. It was very interesting and encouraging, and the fact that I am near that era in my daily bible reading just brings it into my heart more.  The Era or reminder...that God is still the I AM, and does still set slaves free.  For some that freedom comes in an instant for others it is a process (of the wilderness).  I am going to quote Rabbi Hollander from the article I read " Each spring we are called out to our destiny to live as free people, and to work on a better world, which in the Jewish tradition is to be in a relationship with God"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also gave a list of the symbolism of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pesach (Passover) Feast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Matzah, a flat, unleavened bread, reflects haste when Israelites fled Egypt.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bitter herbs (maror) represent the bitterness of slavery.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nut and fruit paste represent bricks and mortar slaves used to build cities in Egypt.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shank bone of lamb recalls lamb killed at the first Passover.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Salt water, a reminder of the tears of slavery&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Egg symbolizes sacrifice.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vegetables represent spring.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/SAuu7nGCFRI/AAAAAAAAAO0/q58XBVcdup4/s1600-h/Big+File+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/SAuu7nGCFRI/AAAAAAAAAO0/q58XBVcdup4/s320/Big+File+074.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191435334604428562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And the "Ma Nishta-na" is where the youngest child asks "why is this night different from all other nights?"  This is where they use the senses of sight, hearing and taste to tell the story of there nation being freed from slavery. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all on a journey, and God is the Hero of my story too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-7470635393941005005?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/7470635393941005005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=7470635393941005005' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/7470635393941005005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/7470635393941005005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-passover.html' title='Happy Passover'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/SAuu7nGCFRI/AAAAAAAAAO0/q58XBVcdup4/s72-c/Big+File+074.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-7635820340938235384</id><published>2008-04-10T14:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T16:01:33.734-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Adam and Eve Were Vegaterians</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R_6AFJBVSCI/AAAAAAAAAOs/X9d72IQKRR4/s1600-h/sept+028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R_6AFJBVSCI/AAAAAAAAAOs/X9d72IQKRR4/s320/sept+028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187724646586599458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DON"T FREAK OUT ON ME!  I am not telling anyone they have to be vegetarian.  I am not making some twisted point, just interesting facts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Adam and Eve&lt;/span&gt;  Genesis 1: 29  "I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the surface of all the earth, and every tree which has fruit yielding seed; it shall be food for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the flood God tells &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Noah,&lt;/span&gt; he can eat meat  Genesis 9:3 " Every moving thing that is alive shall be food for you."  Also interesting that shortly after this is when men only live to be a little past 100. I am not stating that is the reason. God said he wanted it this way.  It is just interesting they coincide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the  New Testament we look at the prophet &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Daniel&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Daniel 1 : 4  (Those that served the king were)  "youths  in whom was no defect, who were good looking, showing intelligence in every branch of wisdom , endowed  with understanding  and discerning  knowledge and who had ability for serving in the kings court."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It only seems a little interesting that Daniel had the right to eat meat , but he choose not to at this time.&lt;br /&gt;" test us for ten days, and let us be given vegetables to eat and water to drink. Then let our appearance be observed in your presence  and the appearance of the youths who are eating the king's choice food; and deal with your servants according to what you see."  Wow Daniel was a wise youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way we eat is a matter of wisdom, not salvation.  Our finances, marriages, relationships, health all reflect on the wisdom we are using.  Health is not just genetics.  We eat way to much meat and processed food.  Eating pasta, white rice, white bread, and potatoes spike your blood sugar faster than pouring raw sugar on your tongue. I also feel many diseases can be directly linked to your amount of meat consumption or your lack of vegetable or fruit consumption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wisdom is calling out to us and we can choose to seek her, or ignore her, but there are consequences attached to our decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not saying it is our fault we get sick....... I am saying we are responsible for the choices we make with our diet,  and our diet directly  affects  our health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets listen to wisdom....and be responsible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-7635820340938235384?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/7635820340938235384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=7635820340938235384' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/7635820340938235384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/7635820340938235384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2008/04/adam-and-eve-were-vegaterians.html' title='Adam and Eve Were Vegaterians'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R_6AFJBVSCI/AAAAAAAAAOs/X9d72IQKRR4/s72-c/sept+028.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-3714577884990149179</id><published>2008-03-24T12:44:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T13:39:13.271-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-gBCEU9nxI/AAAAAAAAAOc/oh5q2i6EDNI/s1600-h/easter+08+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-gBCEU9nxI/AAAAAAAAAOc/oh5q2i6EDNI/s320/easter+08+018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181392506322788114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well this is before Easter.  This is Jeff and his dad bowling against each other on the Wii.&lt;br /&gt;They were very into their game, and sooo cute:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-gA4kU9nwI/AAAAAAAAAOU/c_xlZUcJRE8/s1600-h/easter+08+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-gA4kU9nwI/AAAAAAAAAOU/c_xlZUcJRE8/s320/easter+08+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181392343114030850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-gAsUU9nvI/AAAAAAAAAOM/24RqzDqwgjg/s1600-h/easter+08+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-gAsUU9nvI/AAAAAAAAAOM/24RqzDqwgjg/s320/easter+08+015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181392132660633330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noelle with her Gigi, making her classic "I will not smile" face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-gALkU9nuI/AAAAAAAAAOE/0W-ByikpES4/s1600-h/easter+08+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-gALkU9nuI/AAAAAAAAAOE/0W-ByikpES4/s320/easter+08+045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181391570019917538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Easter joy&lt;br /&gt;He is a pro at having fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-f_8kU9ntI/AAAAAAAAAN8/uvzbjfmMjsU/s1600-h/easter+08+042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-f_8kU9ntI/AAAAAAAAAN8/uvzbjfmMjsU/s320/easter+08+042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181391312321879762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Easter surprise&lt;br /&gt;Abby encourages me to make holidays special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-f_w0U9nsI/AAAAAAAAAN0/NgQ-cgdXNo0/s1600-h/easter+08+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-f_w0U9nsI/AAAAAAAAAN0/NgQ-cgdXNo0/s320/easter+08+044.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181391110458416834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Easter Cheer&lt;br /&gt;Noelle with her other GeeGee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-f5pkU9nrI/AAAAAAAAANs/6WRiBjBi56s/s1600-h/easter+08+040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-f5pkU9nrI/AAAAAAAAANs/6WRiBjBi56s/s320/easter+08+040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181384388834598578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Easter Family&lt;br /&gt;By the way those are yellow candy necklaces, don't&lt;br /&gt;they match their dresses so nicely?&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/21129487-3714577884990149179?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/3714577884990149179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=3714577884990149179' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/3714577884990149179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/3714577884990149179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2008/03/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R-gBCEU9nxI/AAAAAAAAAOc/oh5q2i6EDNI/s72-c/easter+08+018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-675913815988684403</id><published>2008-03-05T10:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T18:25:16.386-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Over fed and undernutritioned</title><content type='html'>I have heard many speakers speak on the need for us to eat living food(fruits vegetables and whole grains) , and the recognition that most of our diets are dead seven times over.  I am sorry if I am the first to inform you, but white flour and sugar, and processed food  make up the majority of what we like to eat and are eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We, as a population are not getting healthier. Heart disease, cancer, strokes, diabetes and other degenerative diseases are on the rise, and most of these can be linked to diet along with  several pages of other health problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by the way amazing things have been happening for us.  I am so busy right now.  I am not sure how regular my blogs will be, but I don't think many are just going to love this topic anyway.  I think I will just make short fact posts.  I am just not really sure of the correct blog way to sight your sources.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-675913815988684403?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/675913815988684403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=675913815988684403' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/675913815988684403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/675913815988684403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2008/03/over-fed-and-undernutritioned.html' title='Over fed and undernutritioned'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-1702697024662292143</id><published>2008-02-26T11:47:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T12:21:27.047-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8RTaGTbcRI/AAAAAAAAANk/R-zltqqHx-Y/s1600-h/Dec+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8RTaGTbcRI/AAAAAAAAANk/R-zltqqHx-Y/s320/Dec+031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171349979961979154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the hallway in our new house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8RSfGTbcPI/AAAAAAAAANU/kiZVj3A82z4/s1600-h/Dec+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8RSfGTbcPI/AAAAAAAAANU/kiZVj3A82z4/s320/Dec+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171348966349697266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is one of the hall closets that we are converting into a computer/office cubby. I will post  a picture of our finished project, we are still figuring out some details.&lt;br /&gt;At this moment the computer is next to our bed (on my side). This may be the reason I have made so many posts. I came in to straighten my room, and now I am typing a blog. My son is a little ill; he is lying on my bed next to me and I am holding Noelle who said she is cold and wants me to warm her up, but claims she is not tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8RSSWTbcOI/AAAAAAAAANM/FSlp0i4aGh4/s1600-h/Dec+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8RSSWTbcOI/AAAAAAAAANM/FSlp0i4aGh4/s320/Dec+033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171348747306365154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was the end  of our  walk on Sun.   Our dog , Roxy did start the walk...walking.   Noelle was in the wagon at first.  Our dog will be 11 this year.  She is pretty old. Well a ways from our house she just stopped.  She would not go!  Noelle was happy to trade places and we pulled her home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8RSCmTbcNI/AAAAAAAAANE/uoH36IDnfjk/s1600-h/Dec+032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8RSCmTbcNI/AAAAAAAAANE/uoH36IDnfjk/s320/Dec+032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171348476723425490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think this was so funny.&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/21129487-1702697024662292143?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/1702697024662292143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=1702697024662292143' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/1702697024662292143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/1702697024662292143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2008/02/life-now.html' title='Life Now'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8RTaGTbcRI/AAAAAAAAANk/R-zltqqHx-Y/s72-c/Dec+031.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-3310483140962062077</id><published>2008-02-25T12:31:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T13:02:57.930-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Regressing</title><content type='html'>I started a topic prematurely. I did not blog for a long time, and there is certain people that want kid pictures. My apologies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MNn2TbcLI/AAAAAAAAAM0/m2uE68rF6VM/s1600-h/Dec+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MNn2TbcLI/AAAAAAAAAM0/m2uE68rF6VM/s320/Dec+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170991775394525362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Adjusting to cold weather&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MMwWTbcKI/AAAAAAAAAMs/SwxaY8pjA1M/s1600-h/Dec+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MMwWTbcKI/AAAAAAAAAMs/SwxaY8pjA1M/s320/Dec+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170990821911785634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Christmas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MMk2TbcJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/bUR08wzpgc0/s1600-h/Dec+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MMk2TbcJI/AAAAAAAAAMk/bUR08wzpgc0/s320/Dec+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170990624343290002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Christmas at Grandma and GrandPa's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MMXmTbcII/AAAAAAAAAMc/zazCIY4g2Bg/s1600-h/Dec+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MMXmTbcII/AAAAAAAAAMc/zazCIY4g2Bg/s320/Dec+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170990396710023298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; At Grandma and Grandpa's house, Noelle had her own bed, but didn't want to sleep alone. So cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MMM2TbcHI/AAAAAAAAAMU/bJGMqA8qoD0/s1600-h/Dec+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MMM2TbcHI/AAAAAAAAAMU/bJGMqA8qoD0/s320/Dec+025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170990212026429554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our first meal in our new house.&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/21129487-3310483140962062077?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/3310483140962062077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=3310483140962062077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/3310483140962062077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/3310483140962062077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2008/02/regressing.html' title='Regressing'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/R8MNn2TbcLI/AAAAAAAAAM0/m2uE68rF6VM/s72-c/Dec+027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-2546837785994770740</id><published>2008-02-24T14:23:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T15:41:42.940-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who am I</title><content type='html'>I am a little nervous making posts about health, but it is my blog so you have entered the world of Amy's opinion.  It is not a salvation issue and I may be the last person that should be saying anything about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is who I am in a Health view:&lt;br /&gt; I am 33 years old.  My father died at 50 of cancer. My mother is always ill. My older brother is an insulin dependent diabetic with many difficult health issues (love my family's guts). I am a registered nurse and have a bachelors in nursing.  I worked at a local hospital UMC for 3 years in the emergency room, children's home,  contracted with an insurance company, little time (best time) at  a nurse practitioners office.  I have 3 children that are 37 months from the birth of my first to the birth of the last one. (My husbands favorite joke is, We got cable so she will be our last).   After the birth of my first daughter I was severely anemic and was sent to a hematologist. I also developed high thyroid and later low thyroid problems.  During my third pregnancy I was tired of feeling bad.  I wasn't sick but I felt so unwell. We began drastic health changes.  After some time we were on a diet of mostly raw fruits and vegetables  and whole grains.  Our families thought we had lost it.  I felt so well, it went undetected that I was severely anemic in the last weeks of my pregnancy. (H and H of 8 and 29)  My midwife refused to deliver me if I wasn't eating meat.  We had a healthy baby girl.   I recovered and eating habits changed, we eat meat but we still have lots of fruits and vegetables.  We moved to Mexico, and I had a string of illnesses. One was typhoid (which I did have a vaccine for before we left the states) .  I was not really hospital sick. Just overwhelming waves of not feeling well.  I was having struggles with anemia again.  I couldn't seem to balance out. It seemed to take a year to kind of recover, and then I was alright but never feeling great.  I want to feel great.  I think I eat pretty well, but maybe I am still deceiving myself. After years of wise people telling me to try taking some good quality vitamins I have started to do that...this week (It took me a while to find one I thought was good, but that is a whole other blog). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I revealed all of that to say.... I am finding things about health that I think applies to everyone.  I find these things because I am struggling to be healthier..to feel healthier.  I have read things Angie and Kristi have said about being Godly stewards and issues about environment.  I believe we have a responsibility to make conscious  effort to  take  care of the  Earth.   I  also believe God is love and has deep  love for us,  and if our body is 'a holy temple', then we have a responsibility to ourselves.   I don't want to make anyone feel guilty ( I don't want to feel guilty).  I just thought I would make a couple of posts about food....type things.  &lt;br /&gt;Questions - Comments - Or Testimonies&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-2546837785994770740?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/2546837785994770740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=2546837785994770740' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2546837785994770740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2546837785994770740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2008/02/who-am-i.html' title='Who am I'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-2625584073180690165</id><published>2008-02-23T14:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T14:35:45.810-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Changes</title><content type='html'>We are back in Lubbock. That is a big change.  God has been kind to us and we are grateful to be allowed the privilege of being in his family.  One of our priorities is health at this point.  In our daily bible reading we have come across some jewels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Proverbs 1:24-28&lt;br /&gt; I (wisdom) called you so often, but you wouldn't come.  I reached out to you, but you paid no attention.  You ignored my advice and rejected correction I offered.  So I will laugh when you are in trouble!  I will mock you when disaster overtakes you - when calamity overtakes you like a storm, when disaster engulfs you like a cyclone, and anguish and distress overwhelm you.  "when they cry for help, I will not answer. Though they anxiously search for me, they will not find me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I think you might ought to read it again and let that settle in......  Fortunately this is the voice of wisdom and not God.   I know God loves even us  stupid people.  However, I want to be a Saved child that is continually seeking wisdom.  The following chapters in proverbs have lots to say about what wisdom is, and is not.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Now here is my question.  What would wisdom advise us about our health? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Know those of you that know me know that in the last couple of years I have been seeking healthier eating habits.  And those that have known me for a long time know that in my college years I lived on cereal, often iced coffees for lunch (fun times with Jenni) and nachos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-2625584073180690165?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/2625584073180690165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=2625584073180690165' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2625584073180690165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2625584073180690165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2008/02/big-changes.html' title='Big Changes'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-3939420432483924050</id><published>2007-12-27T19:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T20:05:35.785-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year</title><content type='html'>I have counted six blogs I have written and not posted....what does that say about me?  That is a rhetorical question!  We are in the process of moving to Lubbock, Texas..........&lt;br /&gt;God is good.  At times, life is hard.  Heaven is sure!..................................my blogs however are not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are sending love to our family and friends.  We hope you are having a miraculous holiday season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In anticipation of things to come&lt;br /&gt; Amy G&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-3939420432483924050?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/3939420432483924050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=3939420432483924050' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/3939420432483924050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/3939420432483924050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/12/new-year.html' title='New Year'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-2316422709600105596</id><published>2007-10-06T20:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T21:58:53.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tag</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was tagged by Ms. Kristi, and I really like her so I am going to play along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the rules. 1)Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves. (2) People who are tagged need to write a post on their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules. (3) At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. (4) Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8 things…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;    1.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:130%;" &gt;I have been trying to quit drinking coffee for 2 years now.  I had one today:P.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;  2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I told my husband, then boyfriend once. "Look at me. Look at ME.... I do not get better than this."   The funny thing is..that I think I have gotten better, and maybe his optimism was right all along. However, I have not gotten taller or thinner and it looks like I never will, but I think I have gotten kinder, more gentle, and a little more optimistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  We have three beautiful children.  I was never really worried during my pregnancies,  but I always felt something bad or tragic was going to happen to the baby or me. I had worked in an emergency room and seen and heard all the sad stories. Birth is so complex. There are so many things that God moves so perfectly.  With every child, I was always so shocked that they were healthy and alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;4. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Jeff and I "cast lots" (flipped a coin) for our sons middle name.  I liked Drew. He liked Lorne.  God went with Jeff and I have never felt sad about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;5. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; I like things in 3, 5 or 7.  I divide our food portions into these numbers. I buy things by these numbers.  I think it is silly, but it is there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt; 6. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; I would like to have a farm someday.  I want a vegetable garden, some chickens, a cow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt; 7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  I like recycling.  I have a subscription to a magazine called &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;Mother Earth News.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I know it sounds cheesy, but it is really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;8.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  This has been difficult for me.  I have been thinking, why would anyone give a crap(Amy doesn't think crap is a bad word), and anyone that knows me, already knows this stuff.   I am unable to hide my emotions.  I say what is on my mind usually.  I don't feel like I have any secrets.  I like being honest and open, and I like people that are honest too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tag Lori, Alisha, Kasey, Jordan, Kaleb, Flee, Andy&lt;br /&gt;and maybe I will just stop with 7 :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-2316422709600105596?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/2316422709600105596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=2316422709600105596' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2316422709600105596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2316422709600105596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/10/tag.html' title='Tag'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-723870776590739688</id><published>2007-08-28T10:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T11:37:52.433-05:00</updated><title type='text'>NoNi's Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RtRPMBGYFVI/AAAAAAAAAKI/I98pgAFSMuk/s1600-h/sept+050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RtRPMBGYFVI/AAAAAAAAAKI/I98pgAFSMuk/s320/sept+050.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103791345589818706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I know I am a little late with pictures.  Noelle had her birthday July 19th.  She turned two, and she is hilarious.  We had a little party. I made a kitty cake (Because she meows all the time, and we think it is funny) and cookies.  My sweet brother pointed out a sad fact that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RtRGwxGYFSI/AAAAAAAAAJw/9vnt8G9HnSQ/s1600-h/sept+047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 244px; height: 325px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RtRGwxGYFSI/AAAAAAAAAJw/9vnt8G9HnSQ/s320/sept+047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103782081345361186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; for Noelle's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; birthdays she has received&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; home &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;improvement projects every year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Last year fo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;r her birthday we painted the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;living room and kitchen yellow and red. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This year we put in a window and the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;guys arrived to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;install it during her party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;However we did&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; buy her some bubbles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;and a little telephone &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;too.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I mean....she is TWO she will not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;remember, and she really loves the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;bubbles, we all enjoy the new window.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The party went well, and as you can see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;in the last picture, it would not be a two &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;year old birthday if kids didn't eat &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;popcorn out of the bowl like animals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RtRF4xGYFRI/AAAAAAAAAJo/2VYMMPxFc4A/s1600-h/sept+070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RtRF4xGYFRI/AAAAAAAAAJo/2VYMMPxFc4A/s320/sept+070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103781119272686866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-723870776590739688?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/723870776590739688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=723870776590739688' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/723870776590739688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/723870776590739688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/08/nonis-birthday.html' title='NoNi&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RtRPMBGYFVI/AAAAAAAAAKI/I98pgAFSMuk/s72-c/sept+050.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-4311847899524796054</id><published>2007-08-08T16:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T19:18:10.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucha Libre</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro8GpTk7vI/AAAAAAAAAJg/HOD8QbzztAs/s1600-h/sept+112.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro8GpTk7vI/AAAAAAAAAJg/HOD8QbzztAs/s320/sept+112.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096452013187985138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jeff and me warming up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro7xZTk7uI/AAAAAAAAAJY/JKTpDTWgHaw/s1600-h/sept+114.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro7xZTk7uI/AAAAAAAAAJY/JKTpDTWgHaw/s320/sept+114.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096451648115764962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kasey and Nathan's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro7bpTk7tI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/Q6Sfirwi-8A/s1600-h/sept+119.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro7bpTk7tI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/Q6Sfirwi-8A/s320/sept+119.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096451274453610194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All wrestling must have a fog machine. It helps cover up the fakeness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro7MJTk7sI/AAAAAAAAAJI/kLVD3KGSGw0/s1600-h/sept+123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro7MJTk7sI/AAAAAAAAAJI/kLVD3KGSGw0/s320/sept+123.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096451008165637826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Fro Man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro65JTk7rI/AAAAAAAAAJA/1qIgEBXrqyI/s1600-h/sept+121.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro65JTk7rI/AAAAAAAAAJA/1qIgEBXrqyI/s320/sept+121.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096450681748123314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I know I have not posted in a while, but I am blogging the important stuff.  I am sure most of you that know me can guess I watched WWF wrestling as a child.  We were not allowed to watch the Solid Gold Dancers (which would have been my first choice), but my brothers and sister and cousins were all allowed to watch WWF. However, I can almost guarantee that my mother's  life would have been a little more bearable if that had been reversed.&lt;br /&gt;Well there is a Mexican version of WWF it is AAA(triple A), and it came to Lazaro and I felt I had to go, so Jeff took me on a special date:)  It was funny and silly, but you know you all wish you could have gone too.  They did throw people out of the ring and use chairs, but I must admit I was a little sad there was no blood.  My favorite wrestler is in the last 2 photos.  He took a picture with a kid during a break and licked him, and during the wrestling he would often bite his opponents (mostly on the butt).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-4311847899524796054?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/4311847899524796054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=4311847899524796054' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/4311847899524796054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/4311847899524796054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/08/lucha-libre.html' title='Lucha Libre'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rro8GpTk7vI/AAAAAAAAAJg/HOD8QbzztAs/s72-c/sept+112.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-4949740589589281204</id><published>2007-07-02T22:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T23:16:50.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Viaje</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We thought we would post a couple of pictures from our car ride through Mexico.  This is just a couple of interesting shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonGE-kH1JI/AAAAAAAAAI4/zWc0aW5dIEw/s1600-h/June+105.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonGE-kH1JI/AAAAAAAAAI4/zWc0aW5dIEw/s320/June+105.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082811443280598162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                           Jeff is pointing to where we live in Mexico.&lt;br /&gt;                                                 We live in Lazaro Cardenas in the state if Michoacan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonFvOkH1II/AAAAAAAAAIw/PMiGSMrKB2A/s1600-h/June+092.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonFvOkH1II/AAAAAAAAAIw/PMiGSMrKB2A/s320/June+092.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082811069618443394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                              You know you have passed the boarder when at every light there is                                                  someone selling something (gum in this case) or washing windows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonFUOkH1HI/AAAAAAAAAIo/QGCjpXgkXWc/s1600-h/June+091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonFUOkH1HI/AAAAAAAAAIo/QGCjpXgkXWc/s320/June+091.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082810605761975410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                       We do a happy dance when our kids are sleeping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonE9ekH1GI/AAAAAAAAAIg/dnCrf33fhU0/s1600-h/June+107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonE9ekH1GI/AAAAAAAAAIg/dnCrf33fhU0/s320/June+107.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082810214919951458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                    Hola Amigo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonEeukH1FI/AAAAAAAAAIY/jXnE-J9kGS0/s1600-h/June+111.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonEeukH1FI/AAAAAAAAAIY/jXnE-J9kGS0/s320/June+111.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082809686638974034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                 Cool Mexican towns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonEKekH1EI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/XsoAW6Ex7F0/s1600-h/June+117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonEKekH1EI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/XsoAW6Ex7F0/s320/June+117.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082809338746623042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                            Who knew Shrek liked to hang out in Mexico&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonDnOkH1DI/AAAAAAAAAII/d-daiw3cniU/s1600-h/June+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonDnOkH1DI/AAAAAAAAAII/d-daiw3cniU/s320/June+095.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082808733156234290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                             We stay on the toll road as much as possible.&lt;br /&gt;                                                        It is faster and better roads&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonDW-kH1CI/AAAAAAAAAIA/7Q09Dvrty94/s1600-h/June+125.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonDW-kH1CI/AAAAAAAAAIA/7Q09Dvrty94/s320/June+125.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082808453983360034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                   We are not on a toll road here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonC--kH1BI/AAAAAAAAAH4/axZii7O0pjQ/s1600-h/June+130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonC--kH1BI/AAAAAAAAAH4/axZii7O0pjQ/s320/June+130.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082808041666499602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                            I love street vendors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonCj-kH1AI/AAAAAAAAAHw/6nRRAHsEDQc/s1600-h/June+134.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonCj-kH1AI/AAAAAAAAAHw/6nRRAHsEDQc/s320/June+134.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082807577810031618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                     This picture is especially for Lisa.&lt;br /&gt;                                              Lots of potties are normal, but usually don't&lt;br /&gt;                                                 have paper, and often the seat is missing&lt;br /&gt;                                        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonCRekH0_I/AAAAAAAAAHo/eS6FRRCLkAs/s1600-h/June+129.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonCRekH0_I/AAAAAAAAAHo/eS6FRRCLkAs/s320/June+129.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082807259982451698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                              We know we are near the coast when the local&lt;br /&gt;                                                              "  7/11  "  AKA  convenient stores are selling&lt;br /&gt;                                                                        coconuts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;In reality all of the gas stations in Mexico are called Pemex (owned by the government)  Gas stations are futher apart than in the states, I think.  Most gas stations have a small convenient store attached,  so road side stands are not the only snacks available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hope you enjoyed our journey.&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/21129487-4949740589589281204?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/4949740589589281204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=4949740589589281204' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/4949740589589281204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/4949740589589281204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/07/viaje.html' title='Viaje'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RonGE-kH1JI/AAAAAAAAAI4/zWc0aW5dIEw/s72-c/June+105.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-3885039519551714291</id><published>2007-06-22T23:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T00:09:30.222-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Abby's 5th Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rnym5zD0tHI/AAAAAAAAAHg/vFjjQczsdHw/s1600-h/June+147.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rnym5zD0tHI/AAAAAAAAAHg/vFjjQczsdHw/s320/June+147.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079117991656076402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Abby got a gorgeous flower from her sweet&lt;br /&gt;                                 daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnymOzD0tFI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/CzFHjg_H0ZA/s1600-h/June+152.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnymOzD0tFI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/CzFHjg_H0ZA/s320/June+152.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079117252921701458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We had a "little party" at our house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnylTDD0tEI/AAAAAAAAAHI/VwUThmI01gM/s1600-h/June+171.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnylTDD0tEI/AAAAAAAAAHI/VwUThmI01gM/s320/June+171.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079116226424517698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mommy worked like a Dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnylCjD0tDI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Ay3Fr2IGOp0/s1600-h/June+178.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnylCjD0tDI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Ay3Fr2IGOp0/s320/June+178.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079115942956676146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Princes Abby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnymmDD0tGI/AAAAAAAAAHY/5uJH8nQs6tU/s1600-h/June+163.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnymmDD0tGI/AAAAAAAAAHY/5uJH8nQs6tU/s320/June+163.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079117652353660002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Our crazy friends had too much cake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnykOjD0tCI/AAAAAAAAAG4/j-vtGDzE3_o/s1600-h/June+218.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnykOjD0tCI/AAAAAAAAAG4/j-vtGDzE3_o/s320/June+218.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079115049603478562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Abby also had a party at school...where daddy worked hard and got princes punch spilled down his shirt and on his shorts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                            &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rnyj4jD0tBI/AAAAAAAAAGw/r-_KKicSUlA/s1600-h/June+233.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rnyj4jD0tBI/AAAAAAAAAGw/r-_KKicSUlA/s320/June+233.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079114671646356498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mommy and Daddy collapse after a long day.        &lt;br /&gt;You can see they pink stain on daddy's shirt and shorts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-3885039519551714291?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/3885039519551714291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=3885039519551714291' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/3885039519551714291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/3885039519551714291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/06/abbys-5th-birthday.html' title='Abby&apos;s 5th Birthday'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rnym5zD0tHI/AAAAAAAAAHg/vFjjQczsdHw/s72-c/June+147.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-6119931194213969845</id><published>2007-06-21T12:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T12:14:57.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Primos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnqwojD0tAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/hkXaK6CuJBw/s1600-h/June+081.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnqwojD0tAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/hkXaK6CuJBw/s320/June+081.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078565740466189314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  On our way back toward Mexico, we meet up with Jeff's sister, Lori.  We went to Sea World and the river walk and we got to hang out with Rick and Lori and our nephews, Seth, Brendon, and Trevor.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-6119931194213969845?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/6119931194213969845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=6119931194213969845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/6119931194213969845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/6119931194213969845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/06/primos.html' title='Primos'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnqwojD0tAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/hkXaK6CuJBw/s72-c/June+081.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-8923039793684971155</id><published>2007-06-01T21:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T14:22:14.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We Love You Baby Brother</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnBCNDD0s_I/AAAAAAAAAGg/7uYZSvmLYTo/s1600-h/June+039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnBCNDD0s_I/AAAAAAAAAGg/7uYZSvmLYTo/s320/June+039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075629571973624818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                             This was early in the morning.  You might be&lt;br /&gt;                                             able to tell that Jeff, Abby and Cooper are more&lt;br /&gt;                                             the morning types than Noelle, Aaron and me.                                   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found out on the 13th of May that my little brother, Aaron was planning to go to Iraq. He will be gone between 1-3 years.  However, it was a shock because he is not in the army.  He is working with a company that contracts with the army for building things.  I must say we were a little in shock. We decided in one day that we were going to return to hug him and kiss him and confirm to him how much we love him and that he is important to us.  The saddest part is that us coming back to see him really blew him away.  He really didn't think we would do that.   Maybe this is an area of improvement for me. I would rather he be shocked that we weren't coming back. This applies to family but it also applies to that body of Christ.  I don't want my family to doubt my love for them. I want it to be obvious, even if that means a three day car ride, or a meal in a rough time, or a postponement of my agenda   for an important conversation. I never want them to feel like I love strangers more than them.  I do love stranger:), but not more than my family.  We are in a situation that we are blessed enough to be able to make a long drive back.  I know so many that would love to make a drive back to family for those important moments, and are not able to.  And God sustains us all. We love you Aaron, be careful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-8923039793684971155?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/8923039793684971155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=8923039793684971155' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/8923039793684971155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/8923039793684971155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/06/we-love-you-baby-brother.html' title='We Love You Baby Brother'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RnBCNDD0s_I/AAAAAAAAAGg/7uYZSvmLYTo/s72-c/June+039.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-1109467543537262419</id><published>2007-05-10T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T09:57:58.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fireman Jeff</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RkMtqMUvZnI/AAAAAAAAAFU/TYbyssQXS1A/s1600-h/fire+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RkMtqMUvZnI/AAAAAAAAAFU/TYbyssQXS1A/s320/fire+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062940608980543090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;  Our kids came to us last week and said "there is a fire on the stairs".  We quickly went to the stairs, and there was no fire. The kids were not at the stairs, they were already at the window in their room and they said "Those stairs".  Diagonally behind our house we could see flames and the smoke getting thicker and thicker.  We don't really worry about fires here because all the houses are made out of concrete, but it was an empty lot in the middle of our neighborhood. The neighbors that have homes connected to that lot were using there pilas (picture below) to fill bucket and attempting to put it out.  Well, Jeff grabbed a bucket and headed over.  He was there a while and returned for our long water hose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny side note: We have a friend Juan that lives next to us and He is attending University 3 hours away, so he comes home on long weekends and holidays.  It happened to be a long weekend, and Juan was home.  He saw Jeff helping and he yelled "Hello what's up" and Jeff yelled "Juan WHAT did you DO!!"  Juan started saying "I don't smoke...I didn't do anything", and Jeff said "well you came home yesterday and look what happens."  They laughed and Juan began working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the fire was somewhat  "under control", Jeff and Juan jumped down into the smoldering lot, and yes Jeff had his fire gear....his shorts, t-shirt, flip flops and a garden hose.  In a moment it looked like his toe was smoking...Juan looked a little panicked and yelled "throw some water on it".  Jeff did and you know the sound when you put water on a really hot pan...well, when he did, there was sizzling and smoke. Juan was like "are you insane", but Jeff says it looked like it was his toe, but it was from the ground underneath. Jeff made it back home an hour and a half later amazed at how long and strong coconuts burn and he was drenched from firefighting and a water war with the neighbors afterward.  The strange part of the story is that the fire department was called and to our  neighbors surprise they never showed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RkMvSMUvZqI/AAAAAAAAAFs/FtmhnXM3QCw/s1600-h/fire+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RkMvSMUvZqI/AAAAAAAAAFs/FtmhnXM3QCw/s320/fire+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062942395686938274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RkMxCcUvZrI/AAAAAAAAAF0/Y2vZu7-LMSg/s1600-h/fire+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RkMxCcUvZrI/AAAAAAAAAF0/Y2vZu7-LMSg/s320/fire+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062944324127254194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RkMu9sUvZpI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cvsi-hlWdgs/s1600-h/fire+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RkMu9sUvZpI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cvsi-hlWdgs/s320/fire+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062942043499619986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-1109467543537262419?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/1109467543537262419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=1109467543537262419' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/1109467543537262419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/1109467543537262419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/05/fireman-jeff.html' title='Fireman Jeff'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RkMtqMUvZnI/AAAAAAAAAFU/TYbyssQXS1A/s72-c/fire+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-7310605348163278712</id><published>2007-05-04T12:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T12:41:54.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Benediction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; " May the Spirit of Christ empower you to love and serve your neighbors, welcome them into your lives and homes and schedules and hearts, so that through belonging they may discover the joys of believing and becoming. You are more ready than you realize.  Go in God's grace and peace!"          Brian D. McLaren - More Ready Than You Realize &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-7310605348163278712?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/7310605348163278712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=7310605348163278712' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/7310605348163278712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/7310605348163278712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/05/benediction.html' title='Benediction'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-2225354993492350326</id><published>2007-04-27T08:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T09:11:17.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures After Stitches</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIETsUvZmI/AAAAAAAAAFM/v6zzRoszio0/s1600-h/100_0952.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIETsUvZmI/AAAAAAAAAFM/v6zzRoszio0/s320/100_0952.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058110067852666466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIB7MUvZkI/AAAAAAAAAE8/DGO5j8m1g0Y/s1600-h/100_0948.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIB7MUvZkI/AAAAAAAAAE8/DGO5j8m1g0Y/s320/100_0948.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058107447922615874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIBbsUvZjI/AAAAAAAAAE0/wT_bj0vB-h4/s1600-h/100_0947.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIBbsUvZjI/AAAAAAAAAE0/wT_bj0vB-h4/s320/100_0947.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058106906756736562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIBBcUvZiI/AAAAAAAAAEs/LQ538_Z648k/s1600-h/100_0951.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIBBcUvZiI/AAAAAAAAAEs/LQ538_Z648k/s320/100_0951.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058106455785170466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIAQMUvZhI/AAAAAAAAAEk/4H76F9uHSCQ/s1600-h/100_0958.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIAQMUvZhI/AAAAAAAAAEk/4H76F9uHSCQ/s320/100_0958.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058105609676613138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjH_58UvZgI/AAAAAAAAAEc/2Gh9J1i5hDY/s1600-h/100_0956.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjH_58UvZgI/AAAAAAAAAEc/2Gh9J1i5hDY/s320/100_0956.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058105227424523778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-2225354993492350326?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/2225354993492350326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=2225354993492350326' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2225354993492350326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2225354993492350326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/04/pictures-after-stitches.html' title='Pictures After Stitches'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RjIETsUvZmI/AAAAAAAAAFM/v6zzRoszio0/s72-c/100_0952.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-4708849919061722682</id><published>2007-04-18T23:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T00:32:03.035-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stitches in Mexico</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  Abby had 2 weeks off of school for something called Holy week.  It is called Semana Santa and it is like Easter Week.  Friday before she was to go back to school we thought we would take a relaxing day get away.  We went to Zihautenejo and checked into Hotel Irma.  We headed straight for the pool, and an hour later in our room we were all rinsing off and changing cloths.  Abby was "looking" at the concrete shelves while standing on the bed (I think she was trying to climb into them from the bed).  She fell and hit her chin and bottom lip on the concrete shelf.  Jeff and I were in the bathroom when we heard the scream. I saw a little blood and immediately  grabbed some tissues as Jeff caught 2 drops of blood (important because through it all she did not get blood on her pretty fairy dress) I covered it and did not want to look. I felt like I already knew how bad it was. She had cut a little more than a cm wide below her lip, but it was deep and gapping open. The top of her bottom lip was also bleeding and her chin had abrasions on it. I told Jeff she had to have stitches.  Now remember we had all been swimming. Abby was the only one dressed, so we quickly threw cloths on everyone and Jeff went to ask where an urgency clinic was.  Abby was still crying and did not want to go to a hospital.  We loaded up and found a place by the grace of God and a nurse standing on a corner.  We walked into URGENCIA where there was 4 chairs and a drunk man sitting in one of them.  We waited 10 min. while a doctor and nurse were taking care of a man before us in this emergency ROOM...one room.  They finished the patient and as he left they turned their attention to us.  The doctor confirmed she needed a couple of stitches. Abby was still crying. Jeff was kind enough to let me stay with Abby as he went out and sat with the kids and the drunk man (and you all know he is gifted at talking to drunk people. He actually had a spiritual conversation with this guy).  I promised Abby I would not leave and I would tell here everything.  She seemed to really calm down. They had to do the lidocaine injections, so I said "they are going to put some medicine in your cut and it is going to sting". I left out the words injection or shot. The doctor told her to close her eyes. HA. Is there any child that would actually do that and keep them shut?  I covered her eyes with my hand. He did a couple of injections and she cried a little but did not move. He waited and did a couple of more. We could tell it was numb because she didn't make a sound. He then cleaned her up with some soap then some iodine.  She did great.  Then he lay a sterile towel over her head with a hole open where he would be working on the stitches.  I kept one hand on her forehead (under the towel) and held her hands with my other. He put in two stitches and her lip was already pretty swollen and it was in a U shape so it was hard to approximate. The second stitch seemed to kinda hurt her and she started crying.  During the second stitch I was watching and feeling so sad for her. I found it difficult to hear all of the sudden, and realized I was getting woozy.  The doctor finished, and We felt exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;  When we were finally leaving Abby said "It hurt worse to fall than to get the stitches", and in a strange way, that made us happy.  On the way to the hospital Jeff had promised ice cream when it was over, so when we got in the car Abby said " Can I have ice cream now?"  She got chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;  And after that there was no more pool or beach time, because she could not get it wet or sandy.  Jeff and I decided that evening the next time we want a relaxing get away we will leave the kids with a babysitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-4708849919061722682?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/4708849919061722682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=4708849919061722682' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/4708849919061722682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/4708849919061722682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/04/stitches-in-mexico.html' title='Stitches in Mexico'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-5504569406665596313</id><published>2007-04-11T14:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T15:39:01.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Happy Easter to all!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1E2cd89sI/AAAAAAAAAD0/uRHX2p1CyA0/s1600-h/100_0921.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1E2cd89sI/AAAAAAAAAD0/uRHX2p1CyA0/s320/100_0921.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052270059125012162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... we know that easter has already come and gone but this is the fastest we could get our pictures on the computer and in this blog.  Anyway the kids had a blast coloring easter eggs and they did a really amazing job.  Kids love messes and things that cause them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1FS8d89tI/AAAAAAAAAD8/aXQEDAXDPTg/s1600-h/100_0923.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1FS8d89tI/AAAAAAAAAD8/aXQEDAXDPTg/s320/100_0923.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052270548751283922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1F1cd89uI/AAAAAAAAAEE/wqRvmfjKBJA/s1600-h/100_0922.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1F1cd89uI/AAAAAAAAAEE/wqRvmfjKBJA/s320/100_0922.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052271141456770786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were blessed by these beautiful matching outfits from Grandma and think that the Kids are adorable.  Thanks again Gi Gi.   Not much more to say just wanted to share some pictures with all of our loved ones and the few fans that lurk &lt;:)'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1Ghcd89vI/AAAAAAAAAEM/D3Ptpb394E0/s1600-h/100_0932.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1Ghcd89vI/AAAAAAAAAEM/D3Ptpb394E0/s320/100_0932.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052271897371014898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1G6cd89wI/AAAAAAAAAEU/dsGZKOyNae8/s1600-h/100_0934.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1G6cd89wI/AAAAAAAAAEU/dsGZKOyNae8/s320/100_0934.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052272326867744514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love pictures.  These are the beautiful moments...  it's not the drive to church when they wouldn't stop scratching and hitting each other,  it's the other moments that we choose to capture and cherish.  I think if you look close you might be able to see easter egg dye on their legs and fingers... and I think it accentuates their outfits nicely!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-5504569406665596313?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/5504569406665596313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=5504569406665596313' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/5504569406665596313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/5504569406665596313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/04/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rh1E2cd89sI/AAAAAAAAAD0/uRHX2p1CyA0/s72-c/100_0921.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-862749002711405971</id><published>2007-03-18T00:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T13:32:25.657-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ice Cream</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You know those things  that sound like a good idea, then&lt;br /&gt;after it is over you are left shaking your head mumbling&lt;br /&gt;"It seemed like such a good idea?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In there defense .... it is REALLY hot here and ice cream melts fast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzbTWKLkgI/AAAAAAAAACw/nkh3rGVrlIs/s1600-h/Feb+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzbTWKLkgI/AAAAAAAAACw/nkh3rGVrlIs/s320/Feb+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043146808160391682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Noelle is just so amazingly cute right now even&lt;br /&gt;if she is basted in chocolate ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzaXGKLkeI/AAAAAAAAACg/QiWTi6zTzAs/s1600-h/Feb+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzaXGKLkeI/AAAAAAAAACg/QiWTi6zTzAs/s320/Feb+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043145773073273314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can tell the sugar is already hitting their bloodstream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzZ4WKLkdI/AAAAAAAAACY/wkRdtC5teAo/s1600-h/Feb+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzZ4WKLkdI/AAAAAAAAACY/wkRdtC5teAo/s320/Feb+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043145244792295890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzcKWKLkiI/AAAAAAAAADA/RjjZpeR-ztg/s1600-h/Feb+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzcKWKLkiI/AAAAAAAAADA/RjjZpeR-ztg/s320/Feb+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043147753053196834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This may look innocent, but I think it was a  "you better give me&lt;br /&gt;what I want or I will put this hand print somewhere."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzbtmKLkhI/AAAAAAAAAC4/iaX9UKB4HzU/s1600-h/Feb+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzbtmKLkhI/AAAAAAAAAC4/iaX9UKB4HzU/s320/Feb+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043147259131957778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Look No hands"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rfzcj2KLkjI/AAAAAAAAADI/jYY6c_OkUBg/s1600-h/Feb+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rfzcj2KLkjI/AAAAAAAAADI/jYY6c_OkUBg/s320/Feb+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043148191139861042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think in the future we will stick with icy pops.&lt;br /&gt;I am just so thankful God gave us three&lt;br /&gt;happy, energetic, funny kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cheerful heart is good medicine.&lt;br /&gt;-Proverbs 17:22-&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/21129487-862749002711405971?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/862749002711405971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=862749002711405971' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/862749002711405971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/862749002711405971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/03/ice-cream.html' title='Ice Cream'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfzbTWKLkgI/AAAAAAAAACw/nkh3rGVrlIs/s72-c/Feb+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-4447652460638978874</id><published>2007-03-14T14:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T15:39:03.206-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Plants in Our Neighborhood  an Ode to Sarah</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We have a friend &lt;a href="http://www.sarahjfloyd.blogspot.com"&gt;Sarah &lt;/a&gt;Floyd, and she is traveling all over the world right now.  She loves plants, so the kids and I took a walk in our neighborhood and took some pictures.  We thought you would like them too. I am not a master at plant names like Sarah, so the kids and I have made some up for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rfhm3mKLkaI/AAAAAAAAACA/Pm4-4xjBFGk/s1600-h/Feb+093.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rfhm3mKLkaI/AAAAAAAAACA/Pm4-4xjBFGk/s200/Feb+093.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041892888163357090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pink-a-mint in our front yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfhmbWKLkZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/_kqZoliLAtI/s1600-h/Feb+079.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfhmbWKLkZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/_kqZoliLAtI/s200/Feb+079.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041892402832052626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hawaii surfer girl flower in the park on the corner&lt;br /&gt;of our street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfhmN2KLkYI/AAAAAAAAABw/QF1jc7fh_As/s1600-h/Feb+078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfhmN2KLkYI/AAAAAAAAABw/QF1jc7fh_As/s200/Feb+078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041892170903818626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;White Angel Flower with the blue devil standing next to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfhltGKLkXI/AAAAAAAAABo/eGjCy_Ndt3Q/s1600-h/Feb+077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfhltGKLkXI/AAAAAAAAABo/eGjCy_Ndt3Q/s200/Feb+077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041891608263102834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Banana Tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfhlOmKLkWI/AAAAAAAAABg/9GEMt8GMNew/s1600-h/Feb+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfhlOmKLkWI/AAAAAAAAABg/9GEMt8GMNew/s200/Feb+076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041891084277092706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bougainvillea on our neighbors fence. This grows&lt;br /&gt;everywhere here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfhkqmKLkVI/AAAAAAAAABY/xKO2JWjDPpA/s1600-h/Feb+075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfhkqmKLkVI/AAAAAAAAABY/xKO2JWjDPpA/s200/Feb+075.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041890465801802066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an ivy like the popular house ivies in the states, but&lt;br /&gt;they get ginormous here.&lt;br /&gt;&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/21129487-4447652460638978874?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/4447652460638978874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=4447652460638978874' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/4447652460638978874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/4447652460638978874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/03/plants-in-our-neighborhood-ode-to-sarah.html' title='Plants in Our Neighborhood  an Ode to Sarah'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rfhm3mKLkaI/AAAAAAAAACA/Pm4-4xjBFGk/s72-c/Feb+093.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-2825504858646136573</id><published>2007-03-06T10:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T17:55:35.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rest of the Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  This is going to get tricky, cause Jeff remembers this more than meeting at camp and we don't exactly agree..&lt;br /&gt;In 1992, I began a year at a University in Lubbock Tx.  I was at a class in church one night, and I saw Jeff.  I know it is strange, but after all that time I knew exactly who he was. However, I wasn't a shy little girl anymore.  I had swung to the opposite pole.  Jeff asked me out, and we went to go have ice cream.  I was a nut at that time in my life. Not into anything bad, just having fun, but I was still a fickle girl.  I kind of had a distrust or something for guys.  I enjoyed laughing and playing and flirting, but I was not interested in really dating anyone......anyway I felt I had been brushed off years ago.  We lost touch.  The next year I went to a missions program in Lubbock called AIM.  All the AIM people lived in an apartment complex and Jeff was a living in the same complex.  He was actually friends with a friend of mine, Charles .  I would see him coming and going (in his cute little purple wind shorts) but he didn't talk to me. Which at that time I would see him in the parking lot riding a unicycle and  I knew he was really into skydiving ("I know why the birds sing dude." ? )  I did think he was a little..strange.  Later that year I left for Slovakia.  Charles and I were on the same team, and Charles would get funny letters or audio tapes from Jeff and other friends and we would all get to enjoy and laugh.  He fell off the map again.&lt;br /&gt;Years later, Charles came over to my house to visit, and Mr Jeff was with him.  I don't remember him saying hardly a word that day, but he called me from an airplane later (Which I thought was the coolest thing).  He was working for Southwest Airlines, but he was going to be back in Lubbock and wanted to know if I wanted to go to dinner and to see STOMP, a percussion/art/drama musical group. We went and had a great time. Our second date was a flight to San Diego, for some walks on the beach. We held hands, it was fun and sweet but there was no kissing. Actually, there was no kissing for the next 7 months.  This part gets a little hard to explain, but at the same time as this, I was coming out of a relationship with a snake. I was happy being friends with Jeff.  I even remember saying " We will only ever be friends ".  His response shocked me.  He said "I would like there to be more, but I am fine just being friends". However, I didn't really believe he really wanted to be my friend, my real friend. We talked regularly, went out and did things. He would buy me dinner, and he became...my best friend. Later, that year in October, I had a migraine that crippled me.  I have had four in my life. That was the first time I found myself alone in my house, and I needed help. I had been in the bathroom floor for hours. When I would move for some reason it induced vomiting.  I had a puppy that needed food and water.  I called Jeff to ask if he could please come feed the dog.  He came, and feed the dog; went to the store and bought some Excedrin migraine; gave me drugs and later helped me from the bathroom floor to the couch.  While I was on the couch he started to rub my back ever-so-softly. I motioned for him to come closure and whispered "Don't touch me". It was extremely painful to talk , open my eyes or be touched.  He sat down at the foot of the couch. I was in and out of consciousness, but when I would open my eyes, he was just sitting there. He left late that night, and I knew two thing when I woke up the next morning.  Bad migraines leave you weak and with a headache hang-over the next morning and I was deeply in love with Jeff Gearhart.  He was a man of his word, he could be trusted, and he was my best friend.&lt;br /&gt; That next day we already had plans to go see The King and I with 2 other couples.  I went to a university clinic to get medication to help with the migraine left overs and to ward off another one. We went to the play and then went swing dancing afterward.  While dancing there was another girl trying to monopolize Jeff's time. This was completely appropriate because I was clear before we were just friends. I know it took forever but I had just realized how amazing he was and I was not going to let this girl in a red dress steal my...friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Wow... now I will try to tell my version.  Of course there are many similarities and much accurate information but first off, know that I have never worn wind shorts and especially purple.  They were blue and they were swim shorts.  Ok, now we can go on.  I remember seeing Amy playing roller hockey and I thought... "wow, she's not only pretty, she can play... and she's pretty good and can hold her own"  So I found out her info and called her up for a date.  We did go to get ice cream and I thought things were going well... until... I called for a second date (in '92) and got the cold shoulder baby!!!  I asked her if she would like to go eat and she said she would rather make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and stay in... OUCH!  That was a pretty clear message but yet I tried to call a few times after... basically... she wasn't interested.  On we go to 1994 at which time we both lived in the same apartment complex.  I saw her and still, thought she was the most beautiful and intriguing girl I had met,  the catch... she was "non dating" (because of AIM) someone else and I sat back and watched.  However, Charles was friends with me, friends with Amy and friends with the other guy. (BTW  not the snake)  So we had casual contact and I was able to keep in touch with her when she went to Slovakia... via Charles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the story goes I started work with Southwest and was moving around and Amy had come back to LBB to start nursing school... enter the snake... hissssss.  I moved back to Lubbock in 1997 (was planning on staying 6 mo.) and was cruising with Charles and we went to Amy's house.  I didn't say much when I was there... I was just enamored and couldn't figure out how I could be sooo drawn to someone for so many years and our paths cross so many times.  I have got to learn more about her.  I did call her from an airplane and yes... I thought it might be the difference between yes or no and I couldn't bear to be turned down for another sandwich.  We went to STOMP and things were going great.  What I didn't know is that the "other dude" was tugging at my future wifes heart strings, but he was just a player! So for several months I wasn't sure if Amy and I would ever work out but I knew that I found a good friend and definitely someone who needed a true one.  We did go out on several dates that summer/fall but Amy to this day has a hard time admitting that they were dates.  I don't know what she prefers to call them.  We finally kissed the night of Craig and Kelly's wedding.... one night after the swing dancing... pretty sure it was Nov. 98!! I asked her to marry me in Feb. of '99 and after she said yes she started calling me her boyfriend... fiance was too difficult.  In May of 1999 I finally got the girl of my dreams and prayers.  She resisted... I persisted!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  I never said, " I know why the birds sing dude"  I just liked skydiving!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     The migraine story was interesting... I really thought she might die or&lt;br /&gt;     something.  I still laugh about the "Don't touch me thing"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Oh... and she said she doesn't remember the sandwich thing but she said she&lt;br /&gt;     thought my car was the most important thing to me.  It was just a Camaro that I&lt;br /&gt;     just bought and I only took care of it and cleaned it... especially for dates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;P.S.S.  I must also say it was Angie Burns that got us to going to swing dancing classes in the first place.  We had a blast with Angie, Charles, Selandra, and Greg.            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfCh7uhu3AI/AAAAAAAAABI/lcll3dknqi4/s1600-h/IMG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfCh7uhu3AI/AAAAAAAAABI/lcll3dknqi4/s200/IMG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039706030501452802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-2825504858646136573?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/2825504858646136573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=2825504858646136573' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2825504858646136573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2825504858646136573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/03/rest-of-story.html' title='The Rest of the Story'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RfCh7uhu3AI/AAAAAAAAABI/lcll3dknqi4/s72-c/IMG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-2858849098646942780</id><published>2007-03-01T08:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T09:52:40.830-06:00</updated><title type='text'>How I met Jeff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; Jeff and I met at a church camp in New Mexico. I was 12 and he was 15. I watched him from afar the whole week. He was funny and friendly. He was preppy but not really pretentious. At camp fire I would look for him and hope that accidentally he might sit with me. Well he never did, but I had made other friends and we had fun.&lt;br /&gt;On Friday night of camp they did a special dinner. The boys were matched up with the girls and one by one the boys came (were sent) to the recreation area to pick up there assigned "dates". I begged not to have to participate, as did several of both genders. There was no getting out of it. As a young girl it was a little terrifying for me. As the numbers of girls dwindled I was becoming uncomfortable. Then came the realization...I was the last girl, and they had matched me with no one. I felt embarrassed and stupid. "Can I please just go to my cabin?!". Several boys had taken more than one date since the girls out numbered them, so it was decided to send a boy back for me that only had one date...More embarrassing. I really wanted to cry, but I am good at playing tough. You guessed it. They sent back Jeff. He was really sweet to me, and made me forget how stupid I felt. His other date was blond, pretty and older, but Jeff was nice to us both. He made me feel special, and I thought I was in love. I tried to talk to him after our "date", but he dismissed me pretty quickly. It was obvious I was getting a cold shoulder. At one last attempt, I wrote him a note on our last day. He wasn't rude but he never responded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RebvcRSZLoI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wLLaglP7OVI/s1600-h/IMG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 261px; height: 183px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RebvcRSZLoI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wLLaglP7OVI/s200/IMG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036976502216404610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That... is what SHE said.....&lt;br /&gt;This... is what I say (enter Jeff)...&lt;br /&gt;First off, unfortunately, I have to agree with most of the story cause I don't remember much about it.  I do remember having preppy clothes (but my Mom still dressed me) and I was way to important to be pretentious.  OK... on  a serious note Amy may have felt ignored or "dismissed" but let's look at the reality of the situation.  When a man is 35 and his wife is 32... it's ok,  when a man is 25 and his wife is 22... it's ok, when a man is 21 and his wife/girlfriend is 18... depending on the man... it's ok too, but when a teenage boy is 15 and in high school and a girl is 12 and in elementary school... it just can't be justified... at least not from the view a 15 year old high school kid.  All of this aside,  not only do I remember Amy and that night with two dates,  I still, to this very day... have the note that she wrote to me.  I kept it all those years (I used it to track her) and it was one of VERY few that I kept through my life.  You know you didn't keep very many notes from camp, and if you did, it was from people you liked or hoped to see again someday.  I not only got to see Amy again... I have the privilege to see her every day of my life.  I love you Amy with all my heart and thank you for doting on me... now I get to dote on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camping anyone??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-2858849098646942780?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/2858849098646942780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=2858849098646942780' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2858849098646942780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/2858849098646942780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/03/how-i-met-jeff.html' title='How I met Jeff'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RebvcRSZLoI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wLLaglP7OVI/s72-c/IMG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-7101130687405790677</id><published>2007-02-21T11:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T11:56:03.307-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Magic Trick</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rdx-_cW5mKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/FiE5pM3cSTo/s1600-h/Feb+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rdx-_cW5mKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/FiE5pM3cSTo/s200/Feb+044.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034038111902472354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rdx_XcW5mLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/6VffSOyRn_A/s1600-h/Feb+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 198px; height: 150px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rdx_XcW5mLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/6VffSOyRn_A/s200/Feb+046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034038524219332786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RdyBCMW5mMI/AAAAAAAAAAc/AkojUyAF2zg/s1600-h/Feb+047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RdyBCMW5mMI/AAAAAAAAAAc/AkojUyAF2zg/s200/Feb+047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034040358170368194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RdyBU8W5mNI/AAAAAAAAAAk/s-Nq7G0hOtA/s1600-h/Feb+048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/RdyBU8W5mNI/AAAAAAAAAAk/s-Nq7G0hOtA/s200/Feb+048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034040680292915410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abby was working on her slight of hand last night.  She has learned it from her father.&lt;br /&gt;There was only one little problem, the coin was not disappearing.  She seemed to be doing it right, even blowing on it just perfect.  I pointed out that one little flaw. "Abby that is strange.  Usually when daddy does it, the coin disappears." To which she so truthfully replied, "Daddy is REALLY tricky. I'm not so tricky."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And where was Jeff you asked?  Well we know a woman that asked him to be a ring bearer at her wedding. He said "Do I have to say anything?" She said he wouldn't so he agreed.  I just laughed because I know things are different in Mexico, but he is a RING BEARER.  I asked him if she needed a flower girl.  Anyway, he went to rehearsal last night.  When he returned he had a great story.   At the rehearsal he found out he wasn't exactly talking he was going to be reading a verse, but then even more exciting news. No, he is not reading a verse; he needs to have the verse memorized....in Spanish...to say at the wedding...in front of many Spanish people. As he told me I just gasped...and laughed and laughed and laughed.   However, if it had been me, I would have been in tears.  I love my husband!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-7101130687405790677?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/7101130687405790677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=7101130687405790677' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/7101130687405790677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/7101130687405790677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/02/magic-trick.html' title='Magic Trick'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_8HDdTHxGk04/Rdx-_cW5mKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/FiE5pM3cSTo/s72-c/Feb+044.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-1954100742897085104</id><published>2007-02-17T08:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T08:54:57.718-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The people that you meet are in your Neighborhood</title><content type='html'>Hi friend... (putting on shoes)... will you be my neighbor?  (putting on sweater) I knew you would... you know why.... cause I like you.   Remember the world of perfect neighbors and Mister Rogers?  Do you know how good it feels to have good neighbors and to feel safe in your neighborhood?  We did too.  There is  a new guy in our neighborhood 2 doors down and BTW who would be the opposite of Mr. Rogers.... oh yeah...... our new neighbor!  He came by our house the other night while I was watching the kids play outside.  He handed me a can of some Squirt drink and started to talk to me.  I cracked open the can and took a drink and thought... this doesn't taste too good and noticed that ANTI-Rogers was drunk.  Then I looked at the can and saw the fine print that said... bebida de alcohol, contenido tequila.  Anyway... this guy, who knows a little english, had determined that I was his *homie* as he proceeded to tell me that he dealt drugs in the states and now is conveniently back here cause he "likes it" here.  Can you say hiding.... I knew you could.   So here in Lazaro he has told me that he "knows" people and can have someone killed and that he has a gun.  In fact... he told me that when he goes back to his house he is going to fire off a few rounds.  When I asked him why he said because were in Mexico.  Along this conversation I had a few questions for him... 1) are you still dealing drugs?  2)where did you learn your english?  3)Aren't guns illegal?  I guess looking back these are not the best things to ask but... well... maybe he didn't remember.  I did tell him after his "friends" comment that I had a friend too...  Jesus Christ and he can change everything.  He immediately didn't want to hear anything about it and I told him that whether or not he accepts Jesus that we can still be friends.   Well, as the story goes... I asked Amy to "save me" and she called me in shortly after for "help" with the kids.  Sure enough about 15 min. later I start hearing gun shots.  Amy then says, "don't you think their neighbors or someone would say something to him?"  (he rents a room from some of our good neighbors) and I said to Amy, "Would you go talk to a drunk man with a pistol and ask him to stop?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good neighbors are hard to find..... Gotta go... here comes the trolley train.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-1954100742897085104?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/1954100742897085104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=1954100742897085104' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/1954100742897085104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/1954100742897085104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/02/people-that-you-meet-are-in-your.html' title='The people that you meet are in your Neighborhood'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-117018278241692197</id><published>2007-01-30T12:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T22:52:05.776-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Naughty</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/285/2135/1600/385095/Nov17%20040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="240" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/285/2135/320/459599/Nov17%20040.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Kim and Karsyn Rush. We really like this picture. From the ash of a fire pit, she looks like she has painted half a kitty on her face. This is a very sweet girl, but all children seem to find themselves in something that makes a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/285/2135/1600/596535/Nov17%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/285/2135/320/974254/Nov17%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Noelle. We call her Noni (and yes sadly&lt;br /&gt;enough this is a name that came from her big&lt;br /&gt;brother that could not pronouce her name, but&lt;br /&gt;we liked it and it fits her).&lt;br /&gt;Amazing how almost all kids love to play with toilet paper. And more amazing that it takes them five years to learn how to use it properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/285/2135/1600/899691/Nov17%20078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/285/2135/320/61673/Nov17%20078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are always telling me. "DRINK more&lt;br /&gt;water, drink more water, you would feel better if you drink more water." At least I don't drink out of the milk carton. I did have to pee alot, and Noelle used all the toilet paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not got up the courage to high five anyone else here in Mexico. but I hear Kim Rush had a high five story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-117018278241692197?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/117018278241692197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=117018278241692197' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/117018278241692197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/117018278241692197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/01/naughty.html' title='Naughty'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-116991228713956231</id><published>2007-01-27T09:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T09:38:07.153-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gangsters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/285/2135/1600/916445/Nov17%20049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/285/2135/320/448720/Nov17%20049.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  This is our three and Tim and Kim Rush's three at a retreat in Nov.  It is amazing we all start out so small, but believe me, they all have very big personalities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-116991228713956231?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/116991228713956231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=116991228713956231' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/116991228713956231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/116991228713956231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/01/gangsters.html' title='Gangsters'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-116970387936678280</id><published>2007-01-24T22:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T23:48:59.760-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Possible success</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There is an amazing paradox in life.  You can do things while holding a child that might get you institutionalized without them.  For example you can sing, spin, bark like a dog , or even do the chicken dance, and people think "Oh how sweet".  Trust me, if you do this while alone, people move away, and wonder if they should contact authorities.  I do use my children at times in difficult moments.  One of those moments was the other day. There is an elderly man in our neighborhood and, like Jeff says, he possibly originated the evil eye. He does NOT seem fond of Jeff or I.  He will not even respond  to us when we speak to him. However, he will respond to our children.  For this reason (and that I am a big chicken) I asked Cooper if he wanted to walk to the corner store for an ice cream (I did feel bribery might be in order). I told him we were going to go pass the guy in our street and give him a high five.  Our reliable elderly neighbor was standing in his normal spot, shirtless, and not smiling.  We approached  him,  and  I said  "Good  evening...Hey Cooper let's give him a high five."   I held up my high five... he half way raised his hand... and I gave him the saddest high five of my life. There wasn't much contact. It didn't really matter because he was mostly ignoring me and looking at Cooper.  Cooper held up his high five.  The man asked, "What is he wanting?".  I said "A high five. Like this", and I gave Cooper five.  We stood there for a moment.  Cooper had his hand up ready for a high five and he poked it with his finger.  I said "Have a good evening". He smiled and chuckled and we walked away.  Cooper said as we walked away "He does NOT know how to give a high five".  When we were far enough away, I started giggling and laughed at moments for the rest of the night. I wonder what our little Mexican shirtless street neighbor thinks of us now, but it has to be better.  We did get him to smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; We hope you are all reaching out and touching someone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-116970387936678280?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/116970387936678280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=116970387936678280' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/116970387936678280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/116970387936678280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/01/possible-success.html' title='Possible success'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-116936028403945376</id><published>2007-01-21T00:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T23:03:16.326-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reach Out And Touch Someone</title><content type='html'>It is nearing Valentines Day, and it is time to get in the mood.  We have a dare for everyone.  No you will not have to wrestle with anyone in your underwear.  In the next couple of days find a random older person. ( Not you grandmother or someone you know, and when we say older this does not mean someone in their 40's or 50's . )  You do not have to engage in conversation, however it may be helpful.  The goal is to give/get a high-five.  We are interested as how this is going to go for us in Mexico, and we want to know the highlights of your high-five experiences... let the "games" begin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-116936028403945376?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/116936028403945376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=116936028403945376' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/116936028403945376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/116936028403945376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/01/reach-out-and-touch-someone.html' title='Reach Out And Touch Someone'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-116883982644328186</id><published>2007-01-14T23:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T00:25:10.680-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Uh oh... I think we found something here...</title><content type='html'>Wow... I can't believe it... you guys actually sucked us in to this thing... notice the color changes and stuff. Ok you may not be impressed but we kinda were. Is this the "honeymoon" phase? We read that on someone elses blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm sure that kids comments could probably keep things like this going for quite some time. Cooper put his fingers in his ears and said, "Can you hear the song in my head?" (while humming) What funny comments have your kids made? If you don't have kids you can pretend to um... protect the source.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-116883982644328186?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/116883982644328186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=116883982644328186' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/116883982644328186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/116883982644328186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2007/01/uh-oh-i-think-we-found-something-here.html' title='Uh oh... I think we found something here...'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21129487.post-113756048925386819</id><published>2006-01-17T22:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T23:59:15.246-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Vamanos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/285/2135/1600/Picture1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="Hanging out" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/285/2135/320/Picture1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we go!!! We are on our way to Lazaro Cardenas. We hope to keep everyone informed as to what is going on through this blog page. Bye for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21129487-113756048925386819?l=thegearharts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/feeds/113756048925386819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21129487&amp;postID=113756048925386819' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/113756048925386819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21129487/posts/default/113756048925386819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegearharts.blogspot.com/2006/01/vamanos.html' title='Vamanos'/><author><name>The Gearharts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12074717156841584641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry></feed>
