<?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-5554057763111589883</id><updated>2011-11-27T17:41:24.241-06:00</updated><category term='Little Bear'/><category term='favorite things'/><title type='text'>a place for my thoughts</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-4086878030020467984</id><published>2010-04-18T16:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T16:44:57.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>widget</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://cdn.widgetserver.com/syndication/subscriber/InsertWidget.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;if (WIDGETBOX) WIDGETBOX.renderWidget('ec7e7a39-427d-4ae2-ad61-8eaa2cd61f59');&lt;/script&gt;&lt;noscript&gt;Get the &lt;a href="http://www.widgetbox.com/widget/swidget-10"&gt;Swidget 1.0&lt;/a&gt; widget and many other &lt;a href="http://www.widgetbox.com/"&gt;great free widgets&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a href="http://www.widgetbox.com"&gt;Widgetbox&lt;/a&gt;! Not seeing a widget? (&lt;a href="http://docs.widgetbox.com/using-widgets/installing-widgets/why-cant-i-see-my-widget/"&gt;More info&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/noscript&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-4086878030020467984?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/4086878030020467984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=4086878030020467984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/4086878030020467984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/4086878030020467984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2010/04/widget.html' title='widget'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-4956030162009571522</id><published>2010-02-12T19:08:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T19:26:12.180-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Drew speak</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/S3X_hTT4rSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/S_l8Jfo_q1E/s1600-h/IMG_8065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/S3X_hTT4rSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/S_l8Jfo_q1E/s400/IMG_8065.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437533072704187682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abbbbbeeeeeeeeee! Yook.- Dearest older sister, might I call you attention to something in this general direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Backeyes- Those who have chosen the dark side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duboo- I love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goopy- Mickey Mouse's mystery friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuzzy- beloved blue blanket, required for all sleep and many boo-boos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rabby- beloved giraffe blanket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chocky- The kind of milk he likes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T-too- Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issue, Mommy- Bless you Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy, issue!- Help there's snot all over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ty-wee- He's my buddy. His mommy calls him Tyler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dabis- Ty-wee's brother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-4956030162009571522?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/4956030162009571522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=4956030162009571522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/4956030162009571522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/4956030162009571522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2010/02/drew-speak.html' title='Drew speak'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/S3X_hTT4rSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/S_l8Jfo_q1E/s72-c/IMG_8065.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-6346512446095650455</id><published>2010-01-05T08:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T08:18:41.515-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My online store</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://Mini.ShopHandmade.com/Mini/Mini.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script&gt;miniTile(500,100,"Store","&amp;Mini-Store=6-176-3185174838");&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-6346512446095650455?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/6346512446095650455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=6346512446095650455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/6346512446095650455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/6346512446095650455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-online-store.html' title='My online store'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-7235488123994042437</id><published>2009-10-18T17:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T17:31:08.307-05:00</updated><title type='text'>disney</title><content type='html'>I just love this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" width="437" height="311" id="viddler"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.viddler.com/simple_on_site/5e85cf76" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.viddler.com/simple_on_site/5e85cf76" width="437" height="311" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowScriptAccess="always" allowFullScreen="true" name="viddler" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-7235488123994042437?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/7235488123994042437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=7235488123994042437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/7235488123994042437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/7235488123994042437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2009/10/disney.html' title='disney'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-5336538162001267905</id><published>2009-10-17T18:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T19:16:56.327-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dicipline</title><content type='html'>Since last we talked, we have added two new members to our family. Meet Bambi and Bill:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/StpZA0ioOnI/AAAAAAAAAEE/tTg59h0u7ks/s1600-h/IMG_7383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/StpZA0ioOnI/AAAAAAAAAEE/tTg59h0u7ks/s400/IMG_7383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393721374368348786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our vet suggested that a water gun might deter our kittens from jumping on the kitchen table. So, on my last venture to Wal-Mart, I sought out a hydro-weapon. Turns out they are a bit hard to find in October. Alas, I found an 8-pack for 2 bucks in the clearance section. Love a deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The multi-pack allowed me to plant my plastic persuasion at various places in the house. One on the mantle, two at the kitchen sink, and another on the counter with the rest buried in the backyard. Okay, not really. Well, maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the kids left their cereal bowls on the table this morning. It was too much for the for the curious little kitties to resist. I found them working on the leftovers that Abbie and Drew had left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bear in mind, that I hadn't had my normal two cups of coffee, chased by some diet coke to start my day. I grabbed my two pieces from the kitchen sink, and I unloaded on them. I was like a gunslinger out of an old western. Two kitties promptly scampered off the table, yet I kept shooting. I still had a target. It was only after the gun in my right had ran dry that I realized that I owed Mr. Potato Head an apology.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-5336538162001267905?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/5336538162001267905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=5336538162001267905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/5336538162001267905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/5336538162001267905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2009/10/dicipline.html' title='Dicipline'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/StpZA0ioOnI/AAAAAAAAAEE/tTg59h0u7ks/s72-c/IMG_7383.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-641867032189834315</id><published>2009-09-03T19:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T20:09:15.012-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Every month</title><content type='html'>It happens this time every month. Often coinciding with the full moon. This is sometimes the only time I have absolutely alone for days or weeks on end. I am sure to close the door tight. I do my self-breast exam. Normal routine stuff. Notice a few things my mother never told me about, and a few things she did. Then it happens. Fear paralyzes me. I move as slowly as I can, working up the nerve to look up. Did I close the bedroom curtains?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-641867032189834315?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/641867032189834315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=641867032189834315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/641867032189834315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/641867032189834315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2009/09/every-month.html' title='Every month'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-8362879629520523100</id><published>2009-08-25T10:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T10:56:43.819-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Timeline for a miracle</title><content type='html'>First off, the miracle you are about to read is not about me. I just saw it. I walked through it. Now I want to share it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="note_content text_align_ltr direction_ltr clearfix"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;January 19, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It snowed in Alabama. It was the weekend of my little girl's birthday. We had her third birthday party in Roanoke at my mom's house. It was beautiful. Cousins came and made snowmen and had snowball fights. We came back home to Montgomery that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;January 20, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Abbie's actual birthday. Wondering if there might be even more snow to come, I get on James Spann's blog to see what he's predicting. No weather reports this morning. Instead, he shares that his friends, Rick and Sherri Burgess, lost their youngest son Bronner the night before in a drowning accident. I have listened to the Rick and Bubba show for years. Bronner was just a few months younger than Abbie. Today was her third birthday. I hurt so much for this family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; August 16, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sherri and Betty are the wives of Rick and Bubba, of The Rick and Bubba Show. www.rickandbubba.com)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sherri Burgess and Betty Bussey spoke to a group of women in Birmingham. I went, with three dear friends of mine. It was the weekend before my birthday. Sherri and Betty shared their faith and how their relationship with God had grown since Bronner went to Heaven. My heart was stirred. I was motivated to be a better wife, mother and friend. I saw a passion for the Lord among the women at this event, and I wanted that passion for myself and those close to me.&lt;br /&gt;The next day at church, I found Susan Fisher, our women's ministry director at Frazer. I told her about the message that Sherri and Betty shared. I told her that we had to have them speak at Frazer. With her support, I started making calls, got the ball rolling, and ultimately got the ladies scheduled for Aug. 22, 2009 at Frazer. Almost exactly one year from when I had heard them the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;June 24, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a group of girls tonight in my church. I didn't recognize any of them. They were all very cute, thought they might have been there to rehearse for a pageant. I just kept walking. On with my life and my own business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there were grown-ups in their group talking to our senior pastor, his wife and others...Wonder what they have to do with a pageant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, as I watched the 20 or so girls giggle and walk around as my own children played in the atrium near them, I learned that they were orphans who had been rescued from a sex trade operation, somewhere around the Ukraine. There was a man with them who ran the orphanage that protects these girls. These girls. Not somewhere on the other side of the world. Not in a brochure. These girls that I was looking at with my own eyes; and at the same time, I can see my own 4-year-old little girl, and my friends daughters as well. Someone felt the call to be the hands and feet of Christ, and rescued these very girls that I saw from unspeakable crimes. I don't know what the term "rescued" means. I don't know what they might have been exposed to before coming to this orphanage. But now, it's over. They are safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched the girls leave the atrium and join Frazer's youth outside for an outdoor movie event. They just blended right in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what my point is here. This is not a well-written story or anecdote, it's just a thought. Just a seed planted within my soul now. I can't describe what I felt looking at those girls when I learned who they were and where they were from. Seeing them in such close proximity to me and my Abbie was profound. They had been rescued by His Hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never see foreign missions they same way again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Later this summer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Philip Cameron is the man who runs these orphanages in Moldova. He came back to Frazer on a Sunday morning. He came back with his group of teenage girls. He spoke in our worship service. He told of how so many of his "daughters" had come to be with his ministry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband and I have our place on the front row on the far left side of the church. We sit with our friends the Brawners, who have a boy and a girl, the same ages as our younger two. Meredith and I, along with the rest of our church family, sat with tears flowing down our faces, hanging on every word from Mr. Cameron as he shared his passion for rescuing young women from unspeakable crimes against them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat wondering what we could do to help. Most of my friends are stay-at-home moms who have pre-school age children, so our opportunities to help are limited. The Lord reminded me that I had taught ESL (English as a second language) a few years ago. Maybe that is something I could do. The girls come to America sometimes. Maybe I could help them learn more English. Later that day, my friend Meredith shared that the Lord laid it on her heart as well during that worship service; that she could learn to teach ESL, and share that with the girls from Moldova. I bumped into another friend that day who had already been to Russia a few years ago. While there, she taught conversational English to teenagers. She was equally stirred by the story of the girls from Moldova, and was open to go again one day. Eager to do something that day, many women at Frazer, including me, bought t-shirts, with the proceeds going to support the ministry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="photo photo_none"&gt;&lt;div class="photo_img"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=30620620&amp;amp;op=1&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;subj=120103942998&amp;amp;aid=-1&amp;amp;auser=0&amp;amp;oid=120103942998&amp;amp;id=1377281907"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs152.snc1/5648_1216563699040_1377281907_30620620_6587393_n.jpg" alt="" class="" onload="var img = this; onloadRegister(function() { adjustImage(img); });" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="caption"&gt;The shirt reads: One female, size small, $3500&lt;br /&gt;Clothes should be bought and sold. Not humans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="clear_none"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;August 22, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the day. We have promoted the event on radio, tv and print. We've gone door to door hanging up posters and we've handed out 1500 emery boards. Rick and Bubba's wives are coming to Frazer.&lt;br /&gt;Here's a link to their messages:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.frazerumc.org/news/noteasilybroken/" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span&gt;http://www.frazerumc.org/n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ews/noteasilybroken/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the ladies spoke, I along with a few other of my girlfriends who helped organize the event got to spend a little bit of time with Sherri and Betty. At the women's event on Saturday, we took up a love offering for the Bronner Burgess Memorial Fund. This is a fund created to allow Rick and Sherri to contribute money to causes that seek to spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Turns out, we collected $7,777.77. Sherri has shared that the number 7 has become significant to them, in that it represents completion in the Bible. Bronner was the seventh member of their family. His birthday was May 27. One year earlier, the event where Sherri and Betty spoke in Birmingham, they collected $7,777 for the memorial fund. One year later, they collected almost exactly the same amount again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The evening of August 23, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rick and Sherri watch an episode of "The Carpenter Shop" on Frazer's website. In this episode, our senior pastor, Barry Carpenter, interviews Philip Cameron about his ministry to girls in Moldova. Their hearts are stirred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; The morning of August 24, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While on the air, Rick notices two young women outside their radio studio. They are wearing t-shirts, just like the girls from Moldova had on on "The Carpenter Shop" the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="photo photo_none"&gt;&lt;div class="photo_img"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=30620824&amp;amp;op=1&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;subj=120103942998&amp;amp;aid=-1&amp;amp;auser=0&amp;amp;oid=120103942998&amp;amp;id=1377281907"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs132.snc1/5648_1216576739366_1377281907_30620824_3731399_n.jpg" alt="" class="" onload="var img = this; onloadRegister(function() { adjustImage(img); });" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="clear_none"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He invites them inside. Turns out, it's Melody Cameron, daughter of Philip Cameron. He interviews her on the show, and shares the story of Moldova with listeners all over the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rick told Melody that since the event Frazer hosted over the weekend was sponsored by the women's ministry, and this ministry of her father's sought to help young women and tell them about Christ, that he and Sherri wanted to give ALL of the money raised from that event to their ministry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what do you think about that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To learn more about the ministry in Moldova, got to &lt;a href="http://www.stallthisengine.org/" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span&gt;http://www.stallthisengine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-8362879629520523100?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/8362879629520523100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=8362879629520523100' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/8362879629520523100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/8362879629520523100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2009/08/timeline-for-miracle.html' title='Timeline for a miracle'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-65890791614325324</id><published>2009-07-27T16:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T22:52:48.563-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Little Bear'/><title type='text'>Our Little Bear is sick</title><content type='html'>A bug has gone through our house lately, and the Little Bear has it now. She's in a "pile (aka a pallet)" at the foot of our bed. She her hair in a pony tail so we don't have to worry with it if she has to "yuck." She found a bow that matches her gown and asked me to put it in her hair. What have I created?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-65890791614325324?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/65890791614325324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=65890791614325324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/65890791614325324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/65890791614325324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2009/07/our-little-bear-is-sick.html' title='Our Little Bear is sick'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-394573977766711235</id><published>2009-07-23T22:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T22:32:24.429-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No capes; the rest of the story</title><content type='html'>Since my first post about the kids Halloween costumes and my promise to post pictures of the finished product, Paul Harvey has died, we have gone to Disney World, and I finished their costumes, not necessarily in that order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Smkq6YxYZfI/AAAAAAAAAD8/A3Wos4qGaEQ/s1600-h/IMG_5981.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Smkq6YxYZfI/AAAAAAAAAD8/A3Wos4qGaEQ/s400/IMG_5981.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361864013931636210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Smkq5yW9ZhI/AAAAAAAAAD0/jtFd2rqe2Kc/s1600-h/IMG_5685.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Smkq5yW9ZhI/AAAAAAAAAD0/jtFd2rqe2Kc/s400/IMG_5685.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361864003620267538" 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/5554057763111589883-394573977766711235?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/394573977766711235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=394573977766711235' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/394573977766711235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/394573977766711235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2009/07/no-capes-rest-of-story.html' title='No capes; the rest of the story'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Smkq6YxYZfI/AAAAAAAAAD8/A3Wos4qGaEQ/s72-c/IMG_5981.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-9211117193742884681</id><published>2009-07-23T21:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T22:04:26.409-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='favorite things'/><title type='text'>I love my toothpaste</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Every now and then you find a product you just love. I've been pondering this for a while, and I want to share some of mine. My first one:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SgYYZzRPbzI/AAAAAAAAACs/VMJHdkyv0UU/s1600-h/box_advfresh.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333977640205250354" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SgYYZzRPbzI/AAAAAAAAACs/VMJHdkyv0UU/s400/box_advfresh.jpg" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 120px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I love this toothpaste. As long as they sell it, I don't think I will ever use another one again. I've never felt this way about a toothpaste before. I never expected it to happen, but I love Colgate Total Advanced Fresh. (Not to be confused with Colgate Total Whitening.) It's the best. You brush your teeth at night before bed, and the severity of morning breath is greatly reduced. There have even been a few&lt;/span&gt; good morning kisses at our house. Thank you my friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-9211117193742884681?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/9211117193742884681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=9211117193742884681' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/9211117193742884681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/9211117193742884681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2009/07/favorite-things.html' title='I love my toothpaste'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SgYYZzRPbzI/AAAAAAAAACs/VMJHdkyv0UU/s72-c/box_advfresh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-8008254655920173763</id><published>2009-07-23T18:54:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T21:07:29.665-05:00</updated><title type='text'>when the mom gets sick...</title><content type='html'>Saturday evening: "Honey, I don't feel good, and since the baby has bitten nearly all of his little classmates in the nursery, I will just plan to stay home with him tomorrow morning, while you take the other kids to church."&lt;br /&gt;Start a new tab:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.themagicofdc.com/multimedia/mp3/movies/Jaws-MainTheme.mp3"&gt;Click here, for a little "mood music." I'll wait here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning, all is fine. I don't feel great, but I'm okay. Handsome Jr. is a little snotty today, but he's playing fine. We got out the Thomas trains, and I built what I think is one of the nicest variations of bridges, curves, figure 8s and traffic signals in my entire mom career. (Which, exceeds the age of my older child. My Ken doll came with extras included.) Life is good. I leave the room briefly, and return to a crying, pitiful little man, shoving his bright pink hand to my mouth, saying "hurt-hot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my kisses didn't make it any better, I scooped him up and went to the kitchen sink. Turns out he had turned a lamp over in his room and touched the bulb. We sat on the side of the tub for almost an hour letting the water run on his hand. He fell asleep that way. My mom adrenaline had kicked in, and masked the illness that was on it's way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember much of Monday, except that I asked Handsome Sr. to come home before lunch. He did, which allowed me to rest some. Half a box of Kleenex and some clever late-night infomercials later, I determined I would have to see the doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday morning. That's when it started to get really bad- fever, chills, sinus "issues," and a throat that looks like a giant twizzler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doc said he could work me in at 11:20. It should be noted that it's July, and I live in Alabama. While this week has been unseasonably mild, it's still at least 90 degrees outside, and I am freezing. I fished a fleece jacket out of the closet, and headed out the door. Having redefined frumpy, I check in at the doctor's office. Those folks could not have stared at me any harder if I had walked in with my hair on fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew I would have to wait, so that's not the issue. But not one of these people looked liked they even felt bad. Am I the only person who doesn't dress up for the doc? If they give out more free samples or shots that don't hurt as bad for those who come in properly glossed, somebody tell me. Otherwise,  I'm fine with my half-wet ponytail,  flip flops and faded knit capris. My doc knows that I can be cute if I want to, but that's not why I'm here today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go in and the sweet nurse that I have seen several times before takes my symptoms. I am now in a fetal position on the table, she's gotten a blanket for me and is trying to get my vitals. I wonder if her chart has a space for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;one step up from roadkill&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Seersucker Britches comes in. He's really a great fellow, and has been my and Handsome's GP for years. After reviewing my symptoms, and declaring that my tonsils were "nasty," he says it. I knew all along what I had, and while the official diagnosis hasn't come back from the state yet, my vote is for swine flu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SmkW27XhKvI/AAAAAAAAADs/VfIyRp-xuJg/s1600-h/twizzlers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SmkW27XhKvI/AAAAAAAAADs/VfIyRp-xuJg/s400/twizzlers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361841964266367730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am more convinced of this by the state of my nose right now.  Having gone through a box and a half of Kleenex in less than 48 hours, I bear a striking resemblance to &lt;a href="http://images3.wikia.nocookie.net/puppet/images/7/7f/Miss_Piggy.jpg"&gt;Miss Piggy&lt;/a&gt;, if she were to sport a half-wet ponytail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned the word "debride" earlier in the week while I was Googling what to do with Handsome Jr.'s burn. Now, I have to do it several times a day... to my nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a little something to help you get that mental picture flushed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SmkRJFM8eUI/AAAAAAAAADk/6RMaADDWJPs/s1600-h/hugh_jackman1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 437px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SmkRJFM8eUI/AAAAAAAAADk/6RMaADDWJPs/s400/hugh_jackman1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361835679074253122" 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;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;Let's talk about Hugh some more another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now it's Day 4. Super Granny flew in in her sensible sedan and has been such a help. Handsome has been able to work for most of a whole day, the kids wore their pj's 'til bedtime and my fever is down to a less painful level. Today's new symptom is swollen lips, but I am going to enjoy that for a day before I call the doc. It's the only feature I could ever have in common with Angelina Jolie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-8008254655920173763?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/8008254655920173763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=8008254655920173763' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/8008254655920173763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/8008254655920173763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2009/07/when-mom-gets-sick.html' title='when the mom gets sick...'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SmkW27XhKvI/AAAAAAAAADs/VfIyRp-xuJg/s72-c/twizzlers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-4710932160197699617</id><published>2008-10-23T21:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T22:00:37.729-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No capes!</title><content type='html'>We have never been really into Halloween at our house. Before Abbie was born, we usually left the house deliberately on Halloween to avoid the teenagers with pillow cases banging on our door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abbie has started preschool, and she and her friends have been talking about what they want to be for Halloween- guess I can't skip it this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, it was a mermaid. (side note- Auburn just got SMOKED.) Well, Daddy vetoed the idea of a topless fish girl. We contemplated the princess thing- The thing is- I really don't like store bought costumes- they look so fake. I grew up in a very rural area. I know I was a clown once when I was really little, in a homemade costume, sewn by my mom or grandmother. The rest of the time, I think I was a scarecrow or a hobo. For years. And a bit itchy. You can do so much with some men's overalls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My children. I have two now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something that goes together- processing processing. I've got it- Oh, it's brilliant. Have you seen my boy lately?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SQE4oIm-rUI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wcZ2IvzZzRY/s1600-h/Picture+202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SQE4oIm-rUI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wcZ2IvzZzRY/s320/Picture+202.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260548101902347586" 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;We decided (I did) to dress them up as Violet and Jack Jack from the Incredibles.  It was a great idea- I even scoured the internet- and bought a costume on ebay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will post a separate note later about the nasties that ebay brings out in my personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the "Violet" costume I bought on ebay got here, it was a bit butch. It was actually a Mr. Incredibles costume, complete with muscles, and it was too big for Abbie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not giving up on my great idea- I decided to make them. I don't sew, but I am creative. I found red pants and shirts for both of them- fabric to make the logo for the front of their shirts- I already had the mask that came with the other costume, and I found some really cheap "Pretty Woman" boots to go with Abbie's costume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't have them finished yet, but I think they will be cute- Anyway- for Halloween, I will be Edna Mode dahling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;more to come...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-4710932160197699617?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/4710932160197699617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=4710932160197699617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/4710932160197699617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/4710932160197699617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2008/10/no-capes.html' title='No capes!'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/SQE4oIm-rUI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wcZ2IvzZzRY/s72-c/Picture+202.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5554057763111589883.post-5477081544597573202</id><published>2008-10-05T21:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T06:26:20.399-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a place for my thoughts</title><content type='html'>I have always wanted to be a columnist. My dad loved Lewis Grizzard, and I read his columns with him as soon as I learned to read two-syllable words. Then he died, but I still read his books.&lt;br /&gt;I always wished I could be the modern day girl version of Lewis. Since I haven't made much time to write, no one has called to request my services, which include and are mostly limited to, unrelated thoughts and sometimes clever, possibly even sarcastic observations.&lt;br /&gt;So- here goes. A blog. Today's column.&lt;br /&gt;All my friends are doing it. I can't promise the artistic or creative sites that they do, but I do fancy myself a bit of a wordsmith. Being a stay-at-home mom has created an interesting dynamic for me- I have these "thoughts," or as Lewis might have called them, nuggets for a column, and no one to share them with (Abbie and Drew just might not get my humor). So I amuse myself, and sometimes my friends who call or drop by- Most of which have learned that neither will be quick due to my need for adult interaction. They love me anyway.&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to sharing my random ponderings here. I think we will have fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5554057763111589883-5477081544597573202?l=emilyroach1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/feeds/5477081544597573202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5554057763111589883&amp;postID=5477081544597573202' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/5477081544597573202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5554057763111589883/posts/default/5477081544597573202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilyroach1.blogspot.com/2008/10/place-for-my-thoughts.html' title='a place for my thoughts'/><author><name>Emily Roach</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LfuVQw2AjQA/Sd5Ukzbb3GI/AAAAAAAAACI/9VRS_-m4GGI/S220/IMG_6268.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
