<?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-36514782</id><updated>2012-01-28T05:26:35.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The JonPost Pile</title><subtitle type='html'>This is a horrible attempt for me to have communication with the outside world.  If you are reading this, you are more intelligent than me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>580</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1435613834656662755</id><published>2012-01-28T05:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T05:26:35.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The JOY of fatherhood</title><content type='html'>It certainly seems that having babies is the popular thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy has put up some posts about the progress of Joy recently. &amp;nbsp;I guess I should put up a least one, since I have not in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing to me what a mimic Joy is. &amp;nbsp;She loves to cough after someone. &amp;nbsp;Bye-bye is a favorite phrase to repeat when the phone is hung up. &amp;nbsp;I am not quite sure where she picked up this, but Joy will hold the phone to her ear, throw back her head, and exclaim "Hmm. &amp;nbsp;Oh!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joy loves trying to climb on the couch. &amp;nbsp;She can lift one leg, but cannot quite get high enough to get on the couch. &amp;nbsp;She can extend on her tiptoes and pull things down. &amp;nbsp;Fortunately, more often than not she will put it back, if you ask her to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a heartwarming encounter to have Joy be happy to see me after a day at work. &amp;nbsp;I try to get on the floor and play with her. &amp;nbsp;She enjoys reclining against me and trying to sit on my lap. &amp;nbsp;At least until something else gets her attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joy enjoys bringing books to read and looking through them herself. &amp;nbsp;When I try to read to her, she likes to explore the room. &amp;nbsp;Must be my reading style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far fatherhood has been a good experience. &amp;nbsp;I hope the good outweigh the bad. &amp;nbsp;Soon I will have a whole new experience with another girl...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1435613834656662755?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1435613834656662755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1435613834656662755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1435613834656662755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1435613834656662755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2012/01/joy-of-fatherhood.html' title='The JOY of fatherhood'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7466748824039978238</id><published>2012-01-28T05:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T05:15:58.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survey the area</title><content type='html'>I recently took a survey for a company. &amp;nbsp;The majority of the questions were the same, only worded another way. Is that annoy to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you had to read&amp;nbsp;multiple&amp;nbsp;questions dealing with the same subject would you be irritated if they are worded differently?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I am not a big fan of those questions that want you to answer with a range of emotion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strongly agree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7466748824039978238?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7466748824039978238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7466748824039978238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7466748824039978238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7466748824039978238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2012/01/survey-area.html' title='Survey the area'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8236783929185110963</id><published>2012-01-25T07:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T07:53:05.252-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Money, like grass, is greener on the other side</title><content type='html'>I will be the first to admit that I know nothing about money.&amp;nbsp; I can spend it occasionally, well more than I like.&amp;nbsp; However, I cannot seem to keep more than I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that a wealthy presidential contender pays a tax rate that is below what some Americans pay, yet he has loads more money.&amp;nbsp; Money is a subject which raises many people's interest.&amp;nbsp; Especially when another person has more.&amp;nbsp; A first thought is why does that person have so much and the second thought is how can I get some of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to the severe outlook of the economy, the majority of our leaders seem to be talking about what is fair.&amp;nbsp; I did not listen to the speech but apparently the President talked about people getting what their fair share.&amp;nbsp; What does that mean?&amp;nbsp; At first glance, it seems that everyone should be equal in the amount of money.&amp;nbsp; However, if I look at my demented worldview then it would be fair that some people make less and others make more.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Do I want to work harder for my money?&amp;nbsp; NO!&amp;nbsp; Am I jealous of people with money?&amp;nbsp; PROBABLY!&amp;nbsp; Should it be a motivation to make myself more successful?&amp;nbsp; YES!&amp;nbsp; Now I know that money is the answer to success.&amp;nbsp; It is all about what you do with it that makes you a success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my limited understanding, if you truly wanted to be fair, then have a flat tax.&amp;nbsp; Everyone pays the same percentage.&amp;nbsp; That is fair.&amp;nbsp; Of course the rates are going to be skewed because it is harder for a person making $10,000 to pay that 15% than someone making one million.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I am not sure of what the answer is.&amp;nbsp; I am not sure what the question is either.&amp;nbsp; That is why people make the big bucks and I seem to spend it.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8236783929185110963?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8236783929185110963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8236783929185110963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8236783929185110963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8236783929185110963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2012/01/money-like-grass-is-greener-on-other.html' title='Money, like grass, is greener on the other side'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-412724383035471411</id><published>2012-01-22T06:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T06:03:05.934-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Putting the Kart before the horsepower</title><content type='html'>Last night I went to a go kart establishment for a guys' night out. &amp;nbsp;A friend threw a surprise birthday party. &amp;nbsp;I do not know the last time I have driven a go kart before last night. &amp;nbsp;To be honest, I am not much of a driver. &amp;nbsp;It looked a little intimidating. &amp;nbsp;People were putting on caps and helmets. &amp;nbsp;There was the briefing room. &amp;nbsp;I wondered if I would get claustrophobic in the harness. &amp;nbsp;Plus what if I had to go to the bathroom? &amp;nbsp;We even had to sign some release form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They call our group back to the briefing room. &amp;nbsp;The attendant flies through the meaning of the flags and signs. &amp;nbsp;We put on our gear. &amp;nbsp;The head cap, helmet, and neck brace. &amp;nbsp;Then we get into the go karts. &amp;nbsp;It is five minutes of warm up, five minutes of&amp;nbsp;qualifying, and ten minutes of bogeity bogeity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The track is full of turns. &amp;nbsp;I worry I may spin out. &amp;nbsp;I never did. &amp;nbsp;The dumbest thing I did was pit too early. &amp;nbsp;I saw a red light after the first part and thought they wanted us to pit. &amp;nbsp;Turns out I was wrong. &amp;nbsp;I am sure the attendants thought I was a dummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was the slowest one out there. &amp;nbsp;So I started in the last position. &amp;nbsp;After a few laps I did pass someone. &amp;nbsp;I think he got tired and just slowed down. &amp;nbsp;However, there was no way I was catching up to the rest of the group. &amp;nbsp;They were too far ahead. &amp;nbsp;I was hoping I would not get lapped, but right at the end the leader passed me and then they waved the checkered flag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were given a printout of our times. &amp;nbsp;I did improve since the warmup, but was still five seconds behind everybody. &amp;nbsp;I do not know how they did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fun, but I not really my style. &amp;nbsp;Once we got out of the karts everyone was saying they could not see how professional race car drivers do it. &amp;nbsp;It was a little tough on the body. &amp;nbsp;I was slung around some. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure how I received it, but I have a bruise or scrape on my tailbone. &amp;nbsp;Probably where my butt was kicked in racing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-412724383035471411?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/412724383035471411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=412724383035471411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/412724383035471411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/412724383035471411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2012/01/putting-kart-before-horsepower.html' title='Putting the Kart before the horsepower'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-654044804524893056</id><published>2012-01-22T05:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T05:44:20.598-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Throw the book at me</title><content type='html'>I read a line in a book that read "everyone has a book in them." &amp;nbsp;I wonder if that is true? &amp;nbsp;I think it would be neat to write one. &amp;nbsp;However, I am not exact;y the best at communicating my thoughts. &amp;nbsp;Especially on paper. &amp;nbsp;When I write I am under the assumption no one will read it, least of all me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that being written, I have come up with an idea four a book. &amp;nbsp;It is about success. &amp;nbsp;There are a lot of books on finding success out there. &amp;nbsp;So why not one more? &amp;nbsp;This one looks at success from the roles of a family. &amp;nbsp;The marketing part is that once I do one, it can lead into another. &amp;nbsp;Most of the books are written off one another anyway. &amp;nbsp;I have in no way fleshed it out, but I have the simple premise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the title will be &lt;i&gt;FourFill Your Life. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;It looks at success in the four roles of a family. &amp;nbsp;Admittedly, this is only a representation family. &amp;nbsp;The Father, Mother, Baby, and Pet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father- The responsible one. &amp;nbsp;Does the tasks of provision. &amp;nbsp;Decision maker.&lt;br /&gt;Mother- Compassion. &amp;nbsp;Emotional needs. &amp;nbsp;Caretaker.&lt;br /&gt;Baby- Centered on personal needs.&lt;br /&gt;Pet- Loyal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think if you apply these aspects to your life you will be successful. &amp;nbsp;How? &amp;nbsp;Read the book. &amp;nbsp;If I can think how to write it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-654044804524893056?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/654044804524893056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=654044804524893056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/654044804524893056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/654044804524893056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2012/01/throw-book-at-me.html' title='Throw the book at me'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-9092322699049805481</id><published>2012-01-18T04:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T04:53:04.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Square peg in a round hole</title><content type='html'>Everyone talks about the way to success is being a well rounded person. &amp;nbsp;I do not have in the mind the physical kind, but the one who can do it all. &amp;nbsp;Some work experts say that is not the way to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of books that I have read recently on strengths in a life and workplace, have studies to show that it is okay to focus on one thing. &amp;nbsp;It is okay to be known for that one thing. &amp;nbsp;Hey, it worked for the "one hit wonders." &amp;nbsp;Studies cite examples of children who made an A in one subject and a lower grade in another, but the parent focused on improving the low grade. &amp;nbsp;The premise of the books was to focus on that one thing to increase that strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to say that you totally forego everything else. &amp;nbsp;That would not be wise. &amp;nbsp;It is important to have people around you who can fill in the gaps. &amp;nbsp;Even the Bible talks about that with the body in I&amp;nbsp;Corinthians&amp;nbsp;12.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So remember it is okay to be number one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-9092322699049805481?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/9092322699049805481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=9092322699049805481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/9092322699049805481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/9092322699049805481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2012/01/square-peg-in-round-hole.html' title='Square peg in a round hole'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-602470083149853368</id><published>2012-01-16T04:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T04:33:22.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you, Google!</title><content type='html'>Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Google just saved me 8 hours. &amp;nbsp;My e-mail account sent me a reminder that I do not have to go into work today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Technology is nice. &amp;nbsp;I have to use the auto feature to remember the websites I visit. &amp;nbsp;It really saves me a lot of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course technology is only useful when it works. &amp;nbsp;If it does not, then it is a monument to a failure. &amp;nbsp;The machine or the person behind it? &amp;nbsp;I will let you "Google" that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good day being off work, if you are. &amp;nbsp;If not then keep up with others who are not at work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-602470083149853368?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/602470083149853368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=602470083149853368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/602470083149853368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/602470083149853368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2012/01/thank-you-google.html' title='Thank you, Google!'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-6187337849493948262</id><published>2012-01-07T06:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T06:36:57.144-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Failure of resolve leads to old problems</title><content type='html'>It is that time of year again. &amp;nbsp;Time to re-evaluate the good, bad, and ugly. &amp;nbsp;I can already feel my anticipation waning. &amp;nbsp;I am not a goal oriented person. &amp;nbsp;I know what I need to do and I do it, if it is short term and not too stressing. &amp;nbsp;Sure I like to dream about a brighter future. &amp;nbsp;The difficult part for me is thinking up steps to actually make it materialize. &amp;nbsp;I fall into routine or lack the initiative to follow through. &amp;nbsp;They are called ruts because one occupies the same space everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps that should be new resolve. &amp;nbsp;To have more resolve. &amp;nbsp;I tend to give up when it gets tough. &amp;nbsp;I see the 45 minute prep time and not the 5 minutes of enjoying the dessert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about life is getting out what is put into it. &amp;nbsp;I know that I have "lucked" or been blessed into things. &amp;nbsp;Most, if not all, I have has been given to me. &amp;nbsp;What do I bring to a relationship? &amp;nbsp;A lot of times it seems not much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, life requires active participation. &amp;nbsp;If I want a handout, I have to make sure my hand has been emptied by giving to someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe 2012 will be my year of drive and then I can enjoy the ride.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-6187337849493948262?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/6187337849493948262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=6187337849493948262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6187337849493948262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6187337849493948262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2012/01/failure-of-resolve-leads-to-old.html' title='Failure of resolve leads to old problems'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-2105464750614567620</id><published>2012-01-02T05:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T05:00:17.645-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Read the signs</title><content type='html'>First off a question. &amp;nbsp;Why when I visit certain websites that require a login name and password is the Remember me button checked but grayed out, yet I still have to type in my information?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy New Year. &amp;nbsp;Unfortunately, it is the same old me. &amp;nbsp;So far this new year is not getting to a good start. &amp;nbsp;Joy has not quite been herself. &amp;nbsp;She developed &amp;nbsp;a little bit of a runny nose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since it is the New Year, it is a time of introspection. &amp;nbsp;Something I am not good at all. &amp;nbsp;The sermon from church referred to setting a vision. &amp;nbsp;I am not goal oriented. &amp;nbsp;People that are able to write down goals and pursue them are ones that I admire. &amp;nbsp;I talk about how great it would be to change my circumstances, but I do not put any action behind them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will 2012 be the year of change? &amp;nbsp;I am hoping for paper money!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-2105464750614567620?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/2105464750614567620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=2105464750614567620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/2105464750614567620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/2105464750614567620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2012/01/read-signs.html' title='Read the signs'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1015165998910278172</id><published>2011-12-30T04:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T04:57:54.445-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Surrounded in the Red Sea</title><content type='html'>Last night Wendy and I, along with some friends, went to see the Campbell University Men's Basketball team play NC State. &amp;nbsp;It seems that Campbell is having a good year. &amp;nbsp;Well, they were for awhile. &amp;nbsp;I think they have dropped four straight, but won their first eight games. &amp;nbsp;It used to be that Campbell was known to not score well and lose badly. &amp;nbsp;They did alright against the Wolfpack last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a few observations. &amp;nbsp;First, I enjoyed the free parking. &amp;nbsp;The game was at Reynolds. &amp;nbsp;I have never been there. &amp;nbsp;It was a packed house. &amp;nbsp;An announcement was made that the game was a sell out. &amp;nbsp;I saw a few seats open. &amp;nbsp;It was general seating, which was a little hectic. &amp;nbsp;We had okay seats. &amp;nbsp;We were to the side and behind some bleachers that were set up. &amp;nbsp;Fortunately, we could still see the action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised how many fouls there were. &amp;nbsp;There were even two&amp;nbsp;technical&amp;nbsp;against Campbell. &amp;nbsp;I have no idea what for, but you know how the Baptists are. &amp;nbsp;One State player did pull down a Campbell player. &amp;nbsp;It was pretty funny. &amp;nbsp;It seemed like the referees were calling everything. &amp;nbsp;The game came down to free throws. &amp;nbsp;Most of the game the Camels and the Wolfpack were trading shots. &amp;nbsp;State's offense was off the first half. &amp;nbsp;Campbell could score when they had a chance. &amp;nbsp;So the game was tied going into half time. &amp;nbsp;One of my favorite quotes was from an exasperated State fan, "Great, we are winning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second half Campbell lost their shooting momentum and went cold. &amp;nbsp;State hit their free throws and was able to open a lead. &amp;nbsp;The Camels did hang on, but lost by six. &amp;nbsp;The game was close until the last five minutes. &amp;nbsp;I think a lot of State fans respected Campbell, after knowing State won of course. &amp;nbsp;On the ride back home, Wendy and I heard the State commentators talking how well Campbell did. &amp;nbsp;They even said Campbell has some of the top scorers in their division. &amp;nbsp;Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing to see the types of people at the games. &amp;nbsp;You definitely feel the fans presence. &amp;nbsp;Wendy got into the game pretty well. &amp;nbsp;She let out some loud cheers for the Camels. &amp;nbsp;Maybe sometime we will make it to a Campbell home game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this elderly woman navigating the&amp;nbsp;aisles, barely. &amp;nbsp;She was&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;holding popcorn in one hand and the rail with other. &amp;nbsp;I thought she would fall over any minute. &amp;nbsp;She was at a slow pace the whole way and then disappeared. A few minutes later she came walking by again. &amp;nbsp;I wondered what she was up to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game was pretty fun. &amp;nbsp;I can see why people attend them. &amp;nbsp;Those are some tickets that it is nice to get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1015165998910278172?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1015165998910278172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1015165998910278172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1015165998910278172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1015165998910278172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/12/surrounded-in-red-sea.html' title='Surrounded in the Red Sea'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8235758465943915497</id><published>2011-12-29T04:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T04:51:58.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just blow the dust off</title><content type='html'>Is it me or does our generation just bring things back in style? &amp;nbsp;I have to ask because all the television shows and movies are remakes? &amp;nbsp;It seems like all the books have just been revised?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it some smart ploy to make it look like we are actually doing something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is the writer of Ecclesiastes right that "there nothing new under the sun."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8235758465943915497?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8235758465943915497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8235758465943915497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8235758465943915497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8235758465943915497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/12/just-blow-dust-off.html' title='Just blow the dust off'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-81170763996650078</id><published>2011-12-26T07:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T07:57:25.177-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Making it presentable</title><content type='html'>Dear Santa's elves,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas or should I say pre-Christmas brings out the decorator instinct in people. &amp;nbsp;I admit I am not a big fan of decorations. &amp;nbsp;It is mainly because I do not like additional work. &amp;nbsp;I do not enjoy dragging them out, setting them up, and then taking it down to store it. &amp;nbsp;Plus I am not creative and do not have the decorative eye. &amp;nbsp;It is hard for me to recognize when something is straight and is it the right color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people love decorations? &amp;nbsp;Why do they get so uptight that everything has to be just right? &amp;nbsp;Do they have to be that obsessive? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After thinking about it, I may have found the reason. &amp;nbsp;It is all because of one person. &amp;nbsp;If they can please one person then it is all worth it. &amp;nbsp;That is what Christmas is all about, making it special for one person. &amp;nbsp;Because one person made it special for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy those gifts, even if you have no idea what it does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-81170763996650078?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/81170763996650078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=81170763996650078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/81170763996650078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/81170763996650078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/12/making-it-presentable.html' title='Making it presentable'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-9000050899807756979</id><published>2011-12-23T10:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T10:11:31.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whistle while you work</title><content type='html'>I am getting ready to embark on a week away from work.&amp;nbsp; When I know a vacation is coming, I have a hard time trying to get motivated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to work only a couple of months a year and have enough money to last me through the year.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes I do not mind working, it is the process I do like.&amp;nbsp; I would love to only work a few hours and be done.&amp;nbsp; I am reading a biography on Andrew Carnegie, who claimed he could do more work in a few hours then most would do in a days time.&amp;nbsp; That is my philosophy.&amp;nbsp; Most people brag about the time they spend at work.&amp;nbsp; Are we really that busy?&amp;nbsp; What are we actually doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be hard to get work done and leave because now everything is by demand.&amp;nbsp; A person has to be accessible to meet certain demands.&amp;nbsp; My job in particular is a mixture of things I know I have to do and then other pop ups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only true way to coordinate your own schedule is to not do anything.&amp;nbsp; I doubt that could last very long or be very fun.&amp;nbsp; Of course you could make others think what you want to do is what they want you to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-9000050899807756979?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/9000050899807756979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=9000050899807756979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/9000050899807756979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/9000050899807756979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/12/whistle-while-you-work.html' title='Whistle while you work'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1019012124385580416</id><published>2011-12-23T10:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T10:00:37.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Monthly review</title><content type='html'>Well I looked back at my blog's schedule and it was exactly a month ago since I posted last.&amp;nbsp; Wow, how the time has flown.&amp;nbsp; Especially since I was thinking Christmas was last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has anything happened in the last month?  Not too much.  Wendy is doing well.  Joy is doing well.  She is pretty interesting.  She loves a phone, until she has to talk on it.  Most have gotten that from her mother.  Enjoys blowing kisses, saying bye-bye, and saying "roff roff."  Who doesn't though?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is Christmas time.  I hope that if you do not get what you want, then you at least get what you need.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1019012124385580416?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1019012124385580416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1019012124385580416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1019012124385580416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1019012124385580416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/12/monthly-review.html' title='Monthly review'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8850543953051388223</id><published>2011-11-23T04:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T04:50:15.754-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time flies...boy are my arms tired</title><content type='html'>Nothing really knew to update.  I just thought I would see if I could remember how to type.  It has been awhile since I have posted anything.  It is hard to believe it has been over a month.  Where does the time go?I found that I enjoy second hand stores.  I am sure you know about my cheapness.  Wendy and I went to one the other weekend and paid less for all our items than what retail would have been on one.  Granted it can be hit or miss, but finding something is the satisfaction.  I found a book that retailed for over twenty dollars and paid fifty cents for it.  I did not even have to get shot three times.Has there been anything on tv to watch recently?  I have not had the urge to turn on the tv.  I know we have shows building up in our DVR schedule.  Wendy and I only watch a few shows to begin with.  I have been reading briefly and then passing out on the couch.  It is possible to give a shout out to my cable company.  I know it can be high and seen as an unnecessary expense, but they are willing to work with me and gave me a good deal.  Since I plead with them everything couple of months.  Yesterday I received a new remote.  Our previous remote was sticking and a nuisance.  When they updated our box, Wendy asked about a remote.  The technician said the experience was probably from our old box.  We still had the same trouble.  Yesterday I was in the mall and went to the kiosk of the cable company.  The representative  just handed me a new remote.  No fuss.  Took it home.  Noticed a difference right away.  A positive difference.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8850543953051388223?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8850543953051388223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8850543953051388223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8850543953051388223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8850543953051388223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/11/time-fliesboy-are-my-arms-tired.html' title='Time flies...boy are my arms tired'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-6352549713477451137</id><published>2011-10-06T04:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T04:56:24.968-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Icon do it</title><content type='html'>I have not read much of the news lately, but from the headlines it seems we are losing a lot of people. &amp;nbsp;The passing of Steve Jobs and before that the "retirement" of Elivra and Leonard Nimoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does seem that our generation does not seem to be producing the iconic figures of the past. &amp;nbsp;Is it because of our access to more it is harder for the unique to be noticed? &amp;nbsp;I guess in the past you had one channel with the guy who everyone knows. &amp;nbsp;Now you have hundreds of channels with nobody you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is not even a standout&amp;nbsp;athlete anymore. &amp;nbsp;Unless you count the whiny ones or the ones which get into trouble, which is becoming frequent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have thought recently how will out generation be remembered? &amp;nbsp;People that do no real achievements?! &amp;nbsp;Wow, &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;we can do more on our phones! &amp;nbsp;What about other advances? &amp;nbsp;It seems we are focused more on entertainment. &amp;nbsp;Look at our famous people today. &amp;nbsp;People are famous for being born. &amp;nbsp;Other standouts of our generation-Mark Zuckerburg (love him or hate him), Casey Anthony (probably hate her), any young reality tv star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am looking at the forest and cannot see the trees. &amp;nbsp;It would be nice to see a few more trees that produce more than shade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-6352549713477451137?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/6352549713477451137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=6352549713477451137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6352549713477451137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6352549713477451137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/10/icon-do-it.html' title='Icon do it'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-499509304021501725</id><published>2011-10-04T08:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T08:19:00.537-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Razor burn</title><content type='html'>Sunday morning my electric razor went dead.  To its credit I think it has been about two weeks since I had to charge it.  Only problem, I cannot find my charger.  I have no idea where it is.  The razor is pretty new.  I had to buy it while away from home because my other razor was beyond repair.  Now I misplace the charger cord on this one.  I had to order a new one because without a cord the razor is useless.  In the meanwhile I have using a regular razor, trying to be more careful than previously.  Because the last time I gashed my face in several places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I having such trouble with razors?  Is it time for hair removal procedures on my face?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-499509304021501725?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/499509304021501725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=499509304021501725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/499509304021501725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/499509304021501725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/10/razor-burn.html' title='Razor burn'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-2881220019577454519</id><published>2011-10-04T07:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T07:44:08.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost, found, lost</title><content type='html'>Over the weekend Wendy, Joy, and I went to spend time with Wendy's parents.  On Saturday we rode along for a family reunion in Murfreesboro, which according to my bad geography is close to the Virginia border.  Wendy, Joy, Wendy's parents, and me climb into the Griffins' CRV.  It has been years since the Griffins have been out this way, but Wendy's Mom has family out that way. Everything was going smoothly.  We were speeding along (figuratively, for all you law enforcement) and Joy was content.  About an hour into the trip, Joy started screaming.  It was the inconsolable death cry.  We tried giving her something to eat, but that did not help.  We tried giving her something to drink, no luck either.  Wendy's Mom pulled into a gas station.  Wendy pulled off Joy's jacket and pants.  Apparently, Joy got too hot.  For the rest of the ride she was alright.  Wendy has also said that the car seats are ovens.  I think they need to make ones vented somehow, but what do I know about design?We pull into the restaurant for the reunion and get Joy out of the car seat to dress her.  Since the weather outside was a little cool.  Jacket on.  Pants on.  One shoe on.  Second shoe....uh.  It is not there.  I search the car and around the car.  It must have fallen out at the gas station, about 30 miles back.The reunion is finished.  It was pretty nice.  Buffet style food.  Nice pond to walk around with ducks.  Everyone complimented how beautiful Joy is.  Wendy's Mom was going to return home a different route, but for kicks wanted to go back and see if the shoe was still there.  We make it back to the gas station.  Joy's shoe is laying where we dropped it.Sunday morning.  I am packing the car with changes of clothes because after the church service and Homecoming luncheon Wendy, Joy, and I are meeting Wendy's brother and family at the Wayne County fair.  However, there is a plan change and we decide to go back to Wendy's parents' house before riding to the fair.  I bring all the clothes back inside.  Well almost.  A pair of Joy's socks are missing.  I know I packed them in the car, but cannot remember when I saw them.  We search everywhere.  No finding luck on this though.  I feel bummed because Joy does not have too many socks that fit and here I misplace a pair.  Maybe they will turn up someday.   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-2881220019577454519?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/2881220019577454519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=2881220019577454519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/2881220019577454519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/2881220019577454519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/10/lost-found-lost.html' title='Lost, found, lost'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1483730401352817822</id><published>2011-09-28T15:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T15:52:50.897-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spaced out</title><content type='html'>I am trying to figure out the new layout of blogspot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I could use spacing to make myself seem more important and for the words to fill up the page.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Like using Courier New font on my papers in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, now when I do a preview it runs together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might have figured it out.&amp;nbsp; At least according to my preview. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed to be the format in which I was typing.&amp;nbsp; Push enough buttons and most anything can happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1483730401352817822?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1483730401352817822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1483730401352817822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1483730401352817822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1483730401352817822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/09/spaced-out.html' title='Spaced out'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4830825516037543503</id><published>2011-09-28T07:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T07:45:17.954-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming out of the shell</title><content type='html'>Wendy and I have found a new treat.  We do not do it often, but we occasionally go to a Mexican restaurant to split an order of fajitas.  I know that you know that I had to Google how to spell that because I was nowhere close enough for the spell check to register what I was referring to.  The size of the portions of the fajitas is quite large.  They give you four shells, so two a piece and there are still enough goodies left over to make a dip for the chips.  It is pricey to a cheapo like me, but not when you split it.  It is almost cheaper than two separate meals at a fast food place.Does anyone know how to eat concoction like that?  I spent more time trying to shove everything back into the shell than eating it.  I guess instead of letting the chips fall where they may, you use the chips to pick up the pieces.  The good thing is no matter if it is in the shell or own the plate it is still good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4830825516037543503?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4830825516037543503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4830825516037543503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4830825516037543503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4830825516037543503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/09/coming-out-of-shell.html' title='Coming out of the shell'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7766094900672621468</id><published>2011-09-27T08:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T08:41:06.546-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dropping in</title><content type='html'>Over the weekend I for a certain period of time could not keep anything in my hands.  Everything I touched was an experiment with gravity.  Sir Isaac Newton would be proud.  But I would rather have a fig newton.  Here are two main things that I had the misfortune of remembering dropping.Wendy was out having a girls day.  I was taking care of Joy and it was lunch time.  I go to the freezer to pull out some chicken nuggets.  It was like a lost game of Jenga.  I would pull one thing and five others would move.  We had recently been to the grocery store and loaded up on some manager specials.  They treated me special alright.  So I would push them back to be assaulted again.  The Wendy's coffee canister fell to the floor.  The impact opened the lid.  So coffee grounds are on the floor.  At this point I am irate.  Fortunately, some coffee was saved, but I am sure I lost about half.  I place the container back in the freezer.  Probably more forcefully than necessary and scoop up the remnant to the trash can.  Now the kitchen smells like coffee.  There are worse smells I suppose.Some time later, not sure how long transpired, I am making breakfast.  I am doing my alternating routine, so it is cereal.  Since we have bananas in the house I like to put them in the cereal.  It is a way of getting a fruit serving and feeds my compulsion of adding toppings to things.  I pull the peeling off the banana.  Sometimes I cut as I go, but today I pulled the banana completely out.  The banana breaks in my hand.  The escapee lands right in the trash can.  My reaction is okay, I do not see anything disgusting in the trash can.  So I pick it out and put in my cereal.  George Costanza style.  I always joke that if I am alone my eating habits are bizarre and I eat what is available.Those are just a couple of things that dropped into my mind.  I am sure that after reading my exploits people's confidence levels and stomach will drop.   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7766094900672621468?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7766094900672621468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7766094900672621468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7766094900672621468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7766094900672621468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/09/dropping-in.html' title='Dropping in'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7578692963417257923</id><published>2011-09-06T10:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T10:25:54.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Food for thought</title><content type='html'>I did forget to add one thing to the post from earlier.  I usually do leave something out.  So in this case the first shall be last.Wendy, Joy, and I went grocery shopping yesterday.  So we went to our favorite store.  However, the deals were not there.  Nothing seemed to meet out needs...for cheapness.  We did not see any manager specials.  I did not even the see the cart of quick sale bakery items.  It was just another thing that let us down over the weekend.Alright, hopefully that will be the last of the pity party.  Who wants cake?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7578692963417257923?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7578692963417257923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7578692963417257923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7578692963417257923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7578692963417257923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/09/food-for-thought.html' title='Food for thought'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8589916283638140657</id><published>2011-09-06T10:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T10:01:57.266-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor day failed to deliver</title><content type='html'>Wow, looking at the last post date it has been a long time.  What has happened?  Not much.  The days at work have been busy.This past weekend was a holiday one for many.  Yippee for me!   It, unfortunately, was not a good one.  Wendy and I heard about several people who are suffering with ailments.  Including our pride and Joy.  It appears she is suffering from diaper rash.  The act of changing her diaper puts her in the throes of agony.  One night over the weekend, she had us up every two hours.  The good news is that she would go back to sleep for an hour 59 minutes or until she had to go to the bathroom.  It is somewhat getting better, but not healed.  Last night she only got us up once.I did perform a home improvement over the weekend.  It was time to replace the kitchen sink, well faucet.  We went to Lowe's and saw one that should fit our need.  I thought that the faucet exchange would not be too bad.  I have seen someone install one in around ten minutes.  Of course that person knew what he was doing.  Like anything I do, I reached a few hurdles.  First how in the world do I get out the out sink?!  Wendy graciously Googled some instructions.  Of course the instructions did not match our faucet.  After wondering what I was going to do it came to me.  I had to undo the bottom and pull it out from the top.  Another part ot the drama was that the supply lines were connected to the faucet.  I did not realize this while getting my supplies.  So I had to go to Lowes and pick up new ones.  Then I had to put in the faucet.  That lined up alright.  The sprayer was what gave me the most problem.  To hook up the sprayer there was a connector with two plastic push pieces.  I had to struggle with the first one, but it went one.  The second one was a challenge.  Of course I was under the sink where there was no room.  I hit my head on something repeatedly.  I even called the manufactured I was so disgusted that I could not get the piece to connect.  They were closed for Labor Day.  After twenty of minutes of banging, yelling, and overall malaise, I look down and there is a plastic sleeve.  The connector piece is not exposed and the push piece fit perfectly.  After the hookup I turn on the faucet.  It works!  But the handles turn the wrong way.  I had put in the thing facing the wrong way!  After a quick exchange it is running.  One problem solved, next is replacing the faucet in the bathroom.  That is for another day.Another home improvement I attempted was to install a baby gate to block off our unused stairs.  Wendy and I have talked about getting one for awhile.  Right now we have access blocked with an old stool and the play pen.  We see a gate which looks like it work.  The front of the box shows our setup.  We think perfect.  The price was reasonable.  We get home and not so much.  Another crazy design of our house.  The rail extends too far, so we would not be able to operate the gate.  Either that or the banister is not far enough out.  It does not line up!  The rail needs to be taken off, cut, or raised.  I figure I can try and take it down.  Of course the screws are stubborn.  I take a few out and Wendy says forget it, that it is not worth the trouble.  Besides where would we store the thing.  It is about 20 feet long, bigger than our rooms.  So another project we want to do that becomes a reject.  At some point the gate has to go back to the store.I cannot say that I am glad to be at work, but this was one weekend that I am glad is over. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8589916283638140657?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8589916283638140657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8589916283638140657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8589916283638140657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8589916283638140657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/09/labor-day-failed-to-deliver.html' title='Labor day failed to deliver'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4525076429075919551</id><published>2011-08-17T09:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T11:11:26.025-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sling it loud</title><content type='html'>Nothing much new happening here or there.  I know I am late to the party, but I did download Angry Birds.  I saw I could get it for free and thought why not try it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried it a few times.  I did not get very far.  I mentioned to Wendy that I had it.  She flew through levels and made it all the way to level 21.  That sounds pretty high to me, since I only made it to level three.  However, she is stuck on that level.  She tried for hours.  I thought I would give a try.  I said I will only try three times.  Well three hours later, nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we always get addicted to stressful things?  There is something that drives me when I cannot figure it out.  I will try until I am given out.  Most times I still have not figured it out.  Then other times I am just about to give up and it falls into place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will see what happens during our next game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4525076429075919551?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4525076429075919551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4525076429075919551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4525076429075919551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4525076429075919551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/08/sling-it-loud.html' title='Sling it loud'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7673106350736903516</id><published>2011-08-08T07:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T08:01:29.933-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lawn games</title><content type='html'>It must be that time of year.  Everyone is out in their yard doing some kind of maintenance.  So not to feel left out, Wendy and I decided we would give it a try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past several days the neighbors have had work crews in their yard.  Wendy said they had a crew with chainsaws take out several trees.  Then they had a crew put down grass and mulch.  Then yesterday they had people out planting some green life.  I told Wendy last night I hope they know these crews because that is going to be expensive.  The neighbors' yard was not much to look at before.  Now it looks pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decide it is time to spruce up our yard.  We have a couple of trees near the road that are dying or at least have ugly growth around them.  One time, whenever it was, we did trim back and cut a few trees.  One tree I had left the stump and vines grew up around it.  I figured that one would be easier.  So I decide to tackle that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night we talk about doing yard work on Saturday.  We wake up Saturday morning to a downpour.  Well there go our plans, but wait...at 9:00 am the rain quits.  So I go out and trim up the growth.  I push on the stump and it comes right up.  It was pretty much dead.  Then it starts to sprinkle.  As I am moving the limbs out of the yard, the bottom falls.  I get drenched.  I head inside.  My clothing is stuck to me.  As I pull my t-shirt off I hear a sound compatible to listening to a conch shell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We think well the rain is set in we might as well run errands.  So we do a couple of things.  The rain stops for good around 2 pm.  Around six o'clock I debate about going back out.  There is a cedar tree that is almost dead and has growth in it.  I decide to go and take a look.  I am able to trim back branches.   I am able to take the tree down.  Now what is left is the stump.  I push on it.  Not moving.  I pull on it.  Not moving.  I dig all around it.  Nothing.  I tried for a couple of hours, maybe not that long, but for awhile at least.  Needless to say the stump is still there.  There has to be some kind of root that is holding it in place that I am missing.  I can move it in some places, but not in others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that was my weekend and the rest involved sleeping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7673106350736903516?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7673106350736903516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7673106350736903516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7673106350736903516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7673106350736903516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/08/lawn-games.html' title='Lawn games'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7989997387766615784</id><published>2011-08-05T09:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T09:57:58.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The law of distraction</title><content type='html'>I will admit.  I get easily distracted.  Just this morning I was convinced I did something.  When I checked, it was not there.  Then I remembered I did something else.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it comes down to we all want to do something else.  Or the little things pop up and block the big things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some distractions can be annoy.  Yet, there a few that are good.  Like having a nice surprise from a loved one.  Wendy is good about that.  Though I admit I am sometimes to boneheaded to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is to distractions.  They can be Hey!  What does this button do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7989997387766615784?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7989997387766615784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7989997387766615784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7989997387766615784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7989997387766615784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/08/law-of-distraction.html' title='The law of distraction'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-3959988557047087739</id><published>2011-08-05T08:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T09:49:44.814-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It madders</title><content type='html'>At church Wendy and I are taking a class on raising children.  The study is based on boundaries for children.  The authors say that children need boundaries to grow into responsible adults, but at first they will not like those boundaries.  It is interesting so far, but with Joy being so young it seem hard to apply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last lesson was on tantrums and envy.  As I was reading thru the chapters, my first thought was I am worse than children.  I still have tantrums today when I do not get my way.  My tantrums involve sulking and beating myself up.  I probably am envious of others...what they have and what they can do.  I know these things only lead me to feeling more depressed with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, it is never too late to change.  That frown upside down.  Plus, I have a great wife and daughter.  So I do have those things going for me.  Other than that what more could I need?  Of course they are a few things I want...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-3959988557047087739?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/3959988557047087739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=3959988557047087739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3959988557047087739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3959988557047087739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/08/it-madders.html' title='It madders'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1949849273580832547</id><published>2011-08-02T09:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T09:14:40.274-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready for the week end</title><content type='html'>Last week was a rough week.  Everything I touched went wrong.  Every machine at work I was dealing with malfunctioned.  I was not in a good mood all last week.  I think everyday at least one bad thing happened and sometimes more than more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping this week would be better, but it has not been great.  I suppose even a little bit is am improvement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a horrible headache yesterday.  I think it was lingering from last week.  It required me (well, Wendy was the pushing factor) to take some medicine.  I think it put me out because I was exhausted.  I did not feel like watching tv or reading.  I even woke up later this morning than normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day at a time because that is all I can handle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1949849273580832547?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1949849273580832547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1949849273580832547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1949849273580832547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1949849273580832547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/08/ready-for-week-end.html' title='Ready for the week end'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7976567544471775500</id><published>2011-08-02T08:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T09:07:15.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Now that is service</title><content type='html'>Last Wednesday evening I was ordained as a deacon at our church.  I have not been to many ordination services, maybe two if that meaning.  And certainly I have not been a major participant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was shocked when I received a few weeks ago saying that the church wanted to affirm me as deacon.  Our church seems like it has many deacons.  Each deacon has a flock of about 4 to 5 families.  So they do need a lot of deacons.  Our church is good about trying to put people into service positions.  Wendy and I have been tapped for a few things already.  I know that the odds of me being chosen after awhile were good.  Now was the time.  I was a little apprehensive because I know it is a big commitment, plus people I know had declined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The service was based on the passage of Scripture of the interchange between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well.  My church views deacons as a servant role.  So we were encouraged to be living water.  The newly ordained deacons, eight of us, were given a cup to symbolize being living water.  It was interesting because either the cup had a mineral taste or the water did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the part everyone associates with the ordination service...the laying on of hands.  Most people wonder what is said.  I have always heard that you cannot really hear what the people are saying.  Most of the people I could make out what they were saying.  It is interesting because some people I could tell who they were, but others I could not.  I could tell that some people told everyone the same thing as they went down the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The orientation meeting is this Thursday night.  So I will learn what all is involved.  It will definitely be a learning experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7976567544471775500?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7976567544471775500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7976567544471775500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7976567544471775500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7976567544471775500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/08/now-that-is-service.html' title='Now that is service'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-5223979520561673896</id><published>2011-07-25T09:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T09:32:24.551-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This count clothing</title><content type='html'>One, two, three strikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend Wendy, Joy, and I visited Wendy's parents.  It was one of the few weekends in a long time that her parents did not have abut four functions to attend while we were there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday Wendy wanted to get a haircut.  So we left Joy with Granma and Papa.  Wendy was also aware of a sale at a discount children's store.  It was a promotion that you could pay 10 dollars for a plastic bag filled with clearance items.  Sounds good right?  Wendy envisioned lots of great deals.  We got to the store around 11 am.  It was pretty crowded.  A few people were walking around with their bags full.  The clerk enthusiastically asks us were we here for the deal.  She says that the clearance item are the ones with a red line on the price tag  We look through the racks.  However, we do not find any items with the red line.  Wendy asks a fellow shopper where the items are.  The person responds there are sections in the store specifically and a few items mixed in the rest of the inventory.  Wendy was looking for sleepers for Joy.  Unfortunately, the selection of sleepers is not on clearance.  So the good deal is not a deal for us.  Wendy had the right point that this store did not have the sufficient amount of items marked clearance to carry out a sale like that.  It was supposed to last from 10 am to the end of the day.  We, like I said, arrived at 11 and there appeared to be nothing left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The we go to another store where Wendy had a deal where she could spend 10 dollars and get 20 dollars worth of merchandise.  Here we faced another strike out.  The selection of baby clothes was not worth it.  The only sleeper in the store, not a holiday theme, was over priced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we venture to one more store.  Wendy wanted to see if this store had any dresses for her she could get for cheap.  She did not find anything that peaked her interest.  We went over to the baby section, just to look.  Buried in other items were a two pack of sleepers.  Sure they are the color blue, but that is fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy is pretty persistent in looking for deals.  It is hard to find a good deal when the selection is not what you want.  She will even look through dust bunnies one by one, if there is a chance for a deal.  I will fly through them and say that I looked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-5223979520561673896?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/5223979520561673896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=5223979520561673896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5223979520561673896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5223979520561673896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/this-count-clothing.html' title='This count clothing'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7451147865079803688</id><published>2011-07-21T14:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T14:18:08.147-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pleased as punch</title><content type='html'>I wonder where that saying originated.  I need to Google it and find out.  Just did.  It refers back to the Punch and Judy puppets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Wendy and I watched &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Taken&lt;/span&gt;.  It was an okay movie.  One of those where the main character can do anything.  Liam Neeson was the star.  It was interesting to see him be the tough guy.  He may have done some tough guy roles in the past, but I think of him in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Love Actually&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not think I could ever take a punch or give one.  However, that is not to say that I would not like to.  Have you ever wanted just to start a random fight.  I know it would hurt, but I would love to get thrown down a bar.  I also think it would be cool to fight like the masters in those karate movies everyone does.  You know, where one guy takes on seven.  I could never do it though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are probably easier ways of hitting on people, ask a relationship expert, but they may hit back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7451147865079803688?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7451147865079803688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7451147865079803688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7451147865079803688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7451147865079803688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/pleased-as-punch.html' title='Pleased as punch'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1099195651891709168</id><published>2011-07-18T08:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T08:48:57.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hear ye, hear me?</title><content type='html'>I am not sure if I needed recovery from the weekend or it was just my usual ugh-ness, but I was off kilter yesterday.  Even more than usual.  Everything I touched did not work at all.  It was one of those mornings where I could not even get out of bed right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All day Wendy was giving me grief because I could not understand her.  The words coming out of her mouth.  If I said "What?" once, I said 50 times.  I would ask her if she said something when she did not and then have no idea what she said when she actually said something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must take words longer to get through my thick skull.  Sometimes I know someone is talking and I catch a few words, but not all of them.  So my mouth might say, "What?" and then brain says (This is what was said.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hail to the king of miss information!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1099195651891709168?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1099195651891709168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1099195651891709168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1099195651891709168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1099195651891709168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/hear-ye-hear-me.html' title='Hear ye, hear me?'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-5045120688149495630</id><published>2011-07-18T08:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T08:42:02.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bullet points</title><content type='html'>Saturday Wendy, Joy, and I were visiting family.  One of my aunt's was in from Florida.  So Wendy, Joy, and I went over to my mom's old homestead for a get together.  While there I got to fire some guns.  My uncle had a shotgun (of some kind) and a revolver (of some kind).  I do not think I will ever be a gun aficionado.  I cannot even play the games where the target is lit for you and hit it.  In real life it is very difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit I was a little jumpy.  Every time for the first I would flinch.  It is hard me for to aim.  I just sort of pointed and pulled.  I did hit one clay pigeon.  Well out of 15.  Tossing the clay pigeons is tough work too.  It never went high for me and always pulled to the left.  However, my uncle is a good shot and managed to still hit most of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guns are extremely loud.  I think you would definitely know if one was fired.  Even with the ear plugs I could hear the pfff.  There was a big difference between the noises.  It was easy to forget how loud the noise was with the ear protection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin in law shot a cow pie.  He was shooting and we saw some brown fly up.  He turned around and asked, "Did I just hit a cow pie?"  We looked and he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shooting experience was interesting.  I might would do it again.  It does require a great deal of practice to be good at hitting a target.  Unless of course you have a really big target or a really big bullet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-5045120688149495630?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/5045120688149495630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=5045120688149495630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5045120688149495630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5045120688149495630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/bullet-points.html' title='Bullet points'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-342085425165181718</id><published>2011-07-15T04:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T04:47:38.969-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookie cutter</title><content type='html'>Well we made it to Friday.  Unless you are reading this after Friday and then, well, we have another few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most everyday this week Wendy and I have thought it should have been the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a week that has a lot going on, for others of course not me.  My aunt from Florida is in NC visiting family.  Wendy, Joy, and I are going to visit them tonight.  Hopefully Joy will be able to sleep as well there as she does at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also have a church function tonight.  It is a covered dish meal and then a concert by a quartet.  For the meal Wendy made a dessert.  It is a dish she got from a friend.  It is dipping cookies in milk and then covering with cool whip.  Simple and delicious!  Two of my favorite words.  In the store we bought the packaged cookies.  We went with quantity over thickness, that and price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy what is left of your day, whatever is left of it.  Remember dessert is best with some kind of topping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-342085425165181718?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/342085425165181718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=342085425165181718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/342085425165181718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/342085425165181718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/cookie-cutter.html' title='Cookie cutter'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4367104739309408377</id><published>2011-07-13T15:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T15:53:09.205-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It is one of those talking pictures</title><content type='html'>Last night Wendy and I watched &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The King's Speech&lt;/span&gt;.  It was a decent movie.  I know that it won a number of Academy Awards, including Best Picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is about a member of the royalty family who is mistreated because of a speech impediment.  He goes to see an unorthodox speech therapist, who becomes his friend.  Then the Duke becomes King.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder is the movie called &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;King's Speech&lt;/span&gt; because of the character's impediment through the entire movie or because of the speech he gives in the last two minutes.  I am not sure.  I suppose it could work for both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the lesson of the movie is be careful when you pick on someone because they have a loving spouse, a good friend who makes them better, and of course become king.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder do great people become great because of the circumstance they are in or they are already great and make a bad situation tolerable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now doing my air wave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4367104739309408377?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4367104739309408377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4367104739309408377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4367104739309408377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4367104739309408377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/it-is-one-of-those-talking-pictures.html' title='It is one of those talking pictures'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-2783769657008225379</id><published>2011-07-12T12:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T12:37:55.567-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dude, Where's my car...behind that one...ahead of that one</title><content type='html'>One of the many things that I cannot stand is being in traffic.  In a car, I want to arrive at my destination as soon as possible.  The roads are a mess in my opinion.  It seems like there are so many vehicles out on the road.  They are always in places and times you do not expect.  Who is always out at 2 pm during the week?  It seems like everyone the few times I get to be out on the road then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always seem to take the wrong way.  I get stuck in a long line of cars and regret my decision for taking that route.  Nevermind, it is always the way I go or perhaps the only way, I will still think I should have taken another way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other motorists probably see me on the road and realize my distaste of traffic.  They probably wonder if I am going through some seizure.  They wonder what is that guy's problem with the shaking and frothing at the mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose in the wheel of life,  you are either at the top or at the bottom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-2783769657008225379?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/2783769657008225379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=2783769657008225379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/2783769657008225379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/2783769657008225379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/dude-wheres-my-carbehind-that-oneahead.html' title='Dude, Where&apos;s my car...behind that one...ahead of that one'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1861134189447869780</id><published>2011-07-11T09:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T09:20:21.563-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sell outs</title><content type='html'>Wendy and I over the weekend tried to sell a few things over Craigslist.  Months back we had listed some things and had no real offers, only spambots.  Over the weekend, we listed some furniture, CDs, comics, and some cookware.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy first thing gets an e-mail about the furniture, she responds, and never hears anything back.  Then Wendy gets a few e-mails about the comics, same deal.  Wendy does strike pay dirt with the cookware.  A person likes it and comes by on Sunday to purchase.  Our first sale.  Still have not heard anything on the CDs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is all an effort to remove some clutter and make a few dollars.  Wendy and I are not really sales type people.  However, if items are sitting in our house not being used and something can use them, they can have them...for a price.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1861134189447869780?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1861134189447869780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1861134189447869780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1861134189447869780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1861134189447869780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/sell-outs.html' title='Sell outs'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-5482015593008264133</id><published>2011-07-08T05:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T05:42:59.729-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate is no laughing matter</title><content type='html'>People do strange things for chocolate.  Most people eat it, but a few people use it for pranks.  A 20 year old in Wisconsin got his hand stuck in his gas tank while trying to retrieve some chocolate.  Someone had put an unwrapped Snickers bar (Ha Ha)in his gas tank.  Did they think he drove a new sort of hybrid?  He noticed the chocolate and tried to get it out.  Of course it is easier to get your hand into something than out of it.  The fire department was called to help him.  They had to cut the tank to get his hand out.  The man is doing fine now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought people from Wisconsin did crazy things for cheese being the cheese heads.  Now I guess they can claim having chocolate hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a link to the story if you are interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fdlreporter.com/article/20110628/FON0101/110628074/Firefighters-free-man-s-hand-from-car"&gt;http://www.fdlreporter.com/article/20110628/FON0101/110628074/Firefighters-free-man-s-hand-from-car&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-5482015593008264133?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/5482015593008264133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=5482015593008264133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5482015593008264133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5482015593008264133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/chocolate-is-no-laughing-matter.html' title='Chocolate is no laughing matter'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4283968479951429012</id><published>2011-07-07T08:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T08:40:12.644-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quit your needling</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Joy's one year examination.  We were anxious to see how much she weighed, since her last check up.  She was almost 17 pounds.  I have cousin whose 18 week son weighs that much.  The doctor did not seem to concerned about the weight.  Joy appears to be healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course with the one year check up is shots.  I am not sure of the shots Joy received. I know it was at least four.  Fortunately, she seems to handle them okay.  She cries, but is able to calm herself down.  The doctor's office also did an anemia check involving a prick to the finger.  The nurses talked about doing this first, but the kit was being used.  So after Joy calmed down from the shots, she had to get her finger pricked.  The nurse came in the room and pricked Joy's finger.  At first I thought she might not cry.  She had that surprised look on her face.  Then the blood and tears fell.  I think the nurse was surprised to see that much blood, I know I was.  She scrambled to find some gauze.  The nurse got a band aid around Joy's finger and we calmed Joy down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joy is also on whole milk.  We were a little worried how she would respond.  She is not known for drinking her formula well.  She seemed to like it and not have a problem drinking it.  We just have to work on getting her to drink more from a cup.  She still likes the bottle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure Wendy will put up a post about more details and probably the correct details I missed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4283968479951429012?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4283968479951429012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4283968479951429012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4283968479951429012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4283968479951429012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/quit-your-needling.html' title='Quit your needling'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-826595893441349182</id><published>2011-07-04T06:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T06:57:33.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Party pooped</title><content type='html'>Let the good times roll!  I think that is because you eat so much and are so tired that people have to roll you out the door.  Saturday of course was Joy's birthday party.  Sunday Wendy's brother and sister-in-law hosted a party for the 4th.  We debated on going because we had been on the go all weekend.  After a Sunday afternoon nap, Wendy decided we could make it.  It was a pretty good time and had pretty good food.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know it is a party when there is a water balloon fight and someone's shoes end up on the roof.  Wendy's brother was able to knock them off the roof with a finishing pole and a paint can opener.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today some friends from church invited us over to their house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I belief that going to parties is now part of the Constitution.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-826595893441349182?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/826595893441349182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=826595893441349182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/826595893441349182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/826595893441349182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/party-pooped.html' title='Party pooped'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1349296012543867903</id><published>2011-07-04T06:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T06:49:35.029-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cashing in my chips</title><content type='html'>Our counter in the kitchen is now filled with chips and other goodies.  The best way to have plenty of the things you do not normally eat is to have a party.  You will have enough food to last for days, depending on how much you eat of it at one time.  Most of the time is snack food.  We almost have enough snacks to throw another party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was Joy's birthday party.  Wendy and I spent most of that running around doing last minute things getting ready.  Mainly searching for things and wondering what we got ourselves into.  Wendy's parents were in town and were a big help in getting everything ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, the party went well.  I think everyone had a good time.  Who can have a bad time eating cake and snacks?  Joy enjoyed her birthday cake.  Hopefully Wendy will do a post birthday wrap up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you will excuse me I have get my breakfast of chips, dip, and birthday cake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1349296012543867903?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1349296012543867903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1349296012543867903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1349296012543867903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1349296012543867903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/cashing-in-my-chips.html' title='Cashing in my chips'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-251222718795968139</id><published>2011-07-01T05:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T05:35:11.598-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It is a JOY to know you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q6A0M8IYaSM/Tg2UffK6Q3I/AAAAAAAAACY/PeJmuCOrQFU/s1600/JOY%2BOLIVIA%2B033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q6A0M8IYaSM/Tg2UffK6Q3I/AAAAAAAAACY/PeJmuCOrQFU/s200/JOY%2BOLIVIA%2B033.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624314778319733618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Joy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 1st birthday!  I know that you will not remember this time in your life.  Unless you happen to have a superior memory, like you Mama.  You are really a great baby.  Everyone always comments how happy and beautiful you are.  Of course it is true.  Thank you for sleeping through the night.  I hear we are extremely fortunate with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I happen to get mad and frustrated, just remind me that you are going to take care of me when I am older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you have many more birthdays.  Always remember that you are loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dada&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-251222718795968139?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/251222718795968139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=251222718795968139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/251222718795968139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/251222718795968139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/it-is-joy-to-know-you.html' title='It is a JOY to know you'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q6A0M8IYaSM/Tg2UffK6Q3I/AAAAAAAAACY/PeJmuCOrQFU/s72-c/JOY%2BOLIVIA%2B033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-5374814529427632525</id><published>2011-07-01T05:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T05:25:50.953-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pull the plug</title><content type='html'>The other I notice that Wendy is not online as much as she usually is.  I think that maybe she is doing something else.  I get a call from her saying that the internet is down and that is why she is not online.  She did the usual troubleshooting of turning off the power to the modem and router.  She even restarted the computer, but nothing.  Our internet is bundled with our television and phone, but those services were working.  So I sat at work for the next couple of hours wishing I could be at home and wondering what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I get home and head to the modem and router.  I notice the wireless router lights are not on.  I am thinking, "Oh, no!  That is why she is not seeing a connection."  I unplug it and plug back in.  Nothing.  I try to see if I can reset it, but there was no power to it.  I know that if you reset the router you have to set it up again.  A task I was not looking forward to.  Honestly, I got lucky once and did not know if I could do it again.  I bring the router and power cord into the living room to try another outlet.  Still no power.  At this point I am getting upset.  I do not want to spend money on another router and go through the hassle.  At one point, in disgust, I drop or toss, dependent on your definition, the router on the floor.  Wendy was getting upset with me, "Now it will not definitely work."  I admit I have anger issues, perhaps volumes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plug the computer directly into the modem, the Internet is alive.  However, we do not want the hassle of being restrained to Joy's room for internet.  I know it is the router not communicating.  I look in a storage place of various electronic devices.  I happened to find another power cord.  I plug it in and hooray!  We have lights and action.  I connect the router back to the modem.  Then wait for the computer to respond.  It does not.  I am in agony, did it reset and I not realize it?  I restart the computer and slowly we have success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad that is all it was.  Around here power cords like to mess up.  I am thankful that a lot of things are now interchangeable.  Now if I could only find a new power cord for myself some days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-5374814529427632525?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/5374814529427632525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=5374814529427632525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5374814529427632525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5374814529427632525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/07/pull-plug.html' title='Pull the plug'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-9184918861437614456</id><published>2011-06-29T08:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T09:08:10.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Clothing line...across the floor</title><content type='html'>Last night Wendy and I tackled one of our junk rooms.  It was the former master bedroom.  Right before Joy's birth we moved to another room to be closer to her room.  So of course all the things that were in that room were transferred.  Now it has become a stockpile and the cats' domain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy was in her cleaning mode last night.  She separated all her clothes.  Most she is getting rid of because it is the wrong size and others because it is the wrong style.  Now we have plenty of closet space.  That was then taken up by my clothes.  I was finding clothes that I forget I had.  I am guilty of just putting things that I do not use down and letting them pile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The room still has a lot to go before looking habitable, but at least it is much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-9184918861437614456?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/9184918861437614456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=9184918861437614456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/9184918861437614456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/9184918861437614456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/clothing-lineacross-floor.html' title='Clothing line...across the floor'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-2050057602220867391</id><published>2011-06-29T08:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T08:58:12.275-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It is for the birds</title><content type='html'>On Monday Wendy and I, along with her parents took Joy to the beach.  It was the first time in a few years Wendy has been to the beach, due to some scheduling conflicts.  It was also Joy's first trip to the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joy seemed to like it.  We put her feet in the water.  I do not think she liked it when the water rushed over her, but she never cried.  The water was a little rough, so we did not stay out long.  We could see shells being carried with the water.  It was almost like missiles in certain places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We let Joy crawl around in the sand.  I am happy that she did not try and eat any of it.  One time she picked up a white shell and tried to put in her mouth.  I am thinking she thought it was a cracker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Wendy, Joy, and I were in the water, a flock of seagulls swooped down on a little girl and tried to eat her sandwich.  Before we left the beach, Wendy thought she would summon some of the feathered friends.  She took a wafer and threw it into the air.  The seagulls came to it and then hovered over Wendy.  They thought she had more food.  Once they realized that was it, they left.  Wendy's dad fed the seagulls and let them snatch the wafer out of his hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a pretty good trip.  The weather was nice.  We thought it was going to rain on us, but we saw no rain.  When we left the house in the morning to go to the beach there was rain and as we left the beach the clouds came, but nothing while we were out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-2050057602220867391?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/2050057602220867391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=2050057602220867391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/2050057602220867391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/2050057602220867391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/it-is-for-birds.html' title='It is for the birds'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8739312273790250690</id><published>2011-06-24T09:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T09:15:49.099-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gymminey Cricket</title><content type='html'>My wife will not brag about her accomplishments, but she is quite the gym member.  She has definitely kicked it up notches and brought down the notches on her absent belt.  She is looking good.  Wendy can put smoke out on those ellipticals.  The other night she did 45 minutes on it and last night 50!  I get exhausted after doing five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I invited my brother to go with me to the gym.  He put the pedal to the medal on it also.  He did not even appear to be winded and I was breathing like Dork Vader.  Then he hit the weights and lifted a lot me than me.  He has also been more athletic though.  He enjoys the outside, like biking, running, and basketball.  He said he has gotten a little weak, but he is still one tough bro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if Joy will like the gym?  She will probably be able to soon lift more than her dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8739312273790250690?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8739312273790250690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8739312273790250690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8739312273790250690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8739312273790250690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/gymminey-cricket.html' title='Gymminey Cricket'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-965295060463302117</id><published>2011-06-24T09:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T09:08:56.355-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Page turner in the other direction</title><content type='html'>A lot of people say, "I should write a book..."  Well I am one person who should not write a book.  First of all I could not think of anything to put on the pages.  However, I did come up some titles of books I wish I could write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Shut Up!&lt;/span&gt;  It could be a book about two things.  One how people can get ahead in life by listening.  Or could be about inspiration and bringing blessing into your life.  Like the phrase in I Kings 17 where Elijah and the King of Israel had the drought.  It mentions the heavens were shut up.  So it would be how to release God's blessings on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would also like to write a book called &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Don't Let Your Amens Become Oh Mans&lt;/span&gt;.  I think this would be about how people are always looking for signs in making decisions. Sometimes we acknowledge some event just because we want it to happen and then what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A book for the clueless would be &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Livin in Oblivion &lt;/span&gt;.  It is for those out there who have no idea what is going on around them.  Fingers pointed in this direction.  But I am still lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could make millions.  Of course I would only be able to sell one or two.  Thanks Mom.  Well after I bought and gave her a copy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-965295060463302117?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/965295060463302117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=965295060463302117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/965295060463302117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/965295060463302117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/page-turner-in-other-direction.html' title='Page turner in the other direction'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8776598874103498843</id><published>2011-06-23T08:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T09:00:50.548-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Up and down</title><content type='html'>People will do most anything for money.  Just flip around the channels.  One of the newest shows is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;101 Ways to Leave a Game Show&lt;/span&gt;.  Contestants answer questions to stay in the game.  If they answer incorrectly then they leave the show in various ways. Most involve high speed vehicles or great heights.  I thought it was a little bizarre the way the final contestants have to choose their answers.  Basically it is handed to them because it is the only choice left.  At first I thought it was not fair.  Now on thinking on it, it just adds to the competition because the contestant is hoping the other is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Game shows have gone to the point of testing limits.  I guess they always have.  It used to test intellectual knowledge with trivia.  Now it is trivia with making people do extreme things with their bodies.  I guess it is good that these "crazy" people are doing these stunts under supervision and not on their own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8776598874103498843?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8776598874103498843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8776598874103498843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8776598874103498843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8776598874103498843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/up-and-down.html' title='Up and down'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-121174755458961573</id><published>2011-06-23T08:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T08:46:24.740-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It is a tough Jobs watching the Gates</title><content type='html'>Last night while Wendy was away at the gym, I was watching a movie.  It was &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Pirates of Silicon Valley&lt;/span&gt;.  After my disapproval of the movie based on Facebook Wendy said that I would probably not like this movie. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;PSV&lt;/span&gt; was about Bill Gates and Steve Jobs forming there powerhouse companies.  I had the movie on in the background as I was watching Joy, so I missed a few parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I imagine it was meant to be tongue in cheek because of the narration of Woz and Ballmer.  They were able to step out of the action and dialogue with the audience.  The parts that stick out to me involve Gates running through the airport to catch a plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing to see where drive gets you.  Both movies involve people, one can say geniuses, who determine to be successful.  They all have different motives for success, but they all get there.  Of course they alienate people in their lives who care about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose being power hungry only gives you a bigger plate to fill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-121174755458961573?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/121174755458961573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=121174755458961573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/121174755458961573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/121174755458961573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/it-is-tough-jobs-watching-gates.html' title='It is a tough Jobs watching the Gates'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1291428030633214360</id><published>2011-06-22T04:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T04:54:52.351-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Communi-can't</title><content type='html'>I am not really a gifted communicator.  When I try to explain something, the person has no idea what I am talking about and I think I become confused also.  I know that communication is the key to getting things done.  People who can communicate well are the ways who are successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just my observation, so it can be wrong, but men tend to talk in hand signals.  I guess women are stereotyped as being more verbal.  Have you noticed that in most conversations men will stand there and point at something?  It is really apparent when working on something.  We, men, will just hold out our hand.  I guess the thought is that the item will appear there we want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that people, men and women, are guilty of thinking that everyone knows what a person is thinking.  Our conversation patterns follow a path of assumed knowledge.  Just because it is in our head does not mean it is in someone else's head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I have my hand out, I usually just want one thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1291428030633214360?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1291428030633214360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1291428030633214360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1291428030633214360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1291428030633214360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/communi-cant.html' title='Communi-can&apos;t'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-3846284924834241466</id><published>2011-06-22T04:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T04:45:19.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Network to Net worth</title><content type='html'>Wendy and I watched &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Social Network&lt;/span&gt; last night.  I had heard it was a pretty good movie.  Who knows what was true and exaggerated?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a hard time watching the movie.  Wendy would routinely catch me rolling me eyes or squirming.  I guess I had no one to really root for in the movie.  All the characters were pretty much annoying.  Zuckerberg's friend became the most likable, but only because he tried to protect Zuckerberg and was still treated badly.  Maybe Zuckerberg talks the way he did in the movie, but I could not stand the cadence or tone or whatever the word is of the actor's voice.  The movie was composed of flashbacks.  That sometimes distracts me.  Most of these flashbacks were scenes of people partying.  The movie made me glad I went to a small college and have decent friends.  All the movies with esteem colleges show scenes of men spanking each other and obsessive drinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it shows the more money you have the more problems you can have.  The key is too have more money than problems.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-3846284924834241466?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/3846284924834241466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=3846284924834241466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3846284924834241466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3846284924834241466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/network-to-net-worth.html' title='Network to Net worth'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4225880190388013697</id><published>2011-06-20T06:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T06:34:26.245-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Under the fatherhood</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Father's Day.  Since I have a child under a year, it was my first one.  I am not too big on celebrations.  So here are some observations about my blur in fatherhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I cannot put on Joy's socks.  They never seem to line up right and Wendy goes back to correct them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I leave a lot of things laying around.  Joy will find them for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I will always get a smidgen or more of baby food on Joy's face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Babies will cry for what seems like no reason one minute and the next minute be perfectly happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Thankfully, Joy does not do it much anymore, but she decides once she is in the car seat and we are walking out the door it is a good time to poop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-It is difficult to change a diaper in a public restroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Baby gear is extremely complicated...and expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I have learned some about being a father and I have a great deal more to learn.  The most important thing I have learned is that I am thankful for an easygoing, loving, and happy little girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4225880190388013697?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4225880190388013697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4225880190388013697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4225880190388013697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4225880190388013697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/under-fatherhood.html' title='Under the fatherhood'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1580107635906199521</id><published>2011-06-19T05:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T05:55:46.891-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wear are you?</title><content type='html'>Wendy, Joy, and I met a friend at Southpoint yesterday.  We decided to eat at California Pizza Kitchen.  On a side note, when saying that restaurant I always saying California Pizza Chicken.  Anyway, we had five dollars off a purchase of fifteen.  Wendy and I split a Spinach Artichoke Pizza.  Sounds nasty, but it was not that bad.  Of course I could not taste the spinach nor artichoke.  The pizza was not enough for the discount so we added our friend's soda to our bill.  We came out 48 cents over fifteen dollars.  Hooray! I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went tromping through the mall.  My favorite moment of the day was in a ladies store.  We were standing around and there were some Muslim women wearing the covered gowns and headpiece.  One had everything covered except her eyes.  Wendy commented, "What are they doing in here?  Like they are even going to wear this!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who stroll while walking, you know that to get upstairs you have to use the elevator.  Of course they put the children's stores upstairs.  So when make it upstairs in the elevator.  On our way down, we are waiting by the elevator.  It opens and three strollers come out.  So we get out of there way.  By the time they move, the doors immediately shut.  I hit the call button, but the elevator had already made its way back to the first floor.  So we wait some more.  Finally the elevator makes it way back to us.  Wendy pushes Joy's stroller into the open space.  The doors start to close!  Of course they have the feature not to close all the way.  At this point I am irate though and I kick the door.  It does not do anything, but makes me feel better in a small way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we try and decide to get some ice cream.  Of course the ice cream store is not there anymore, but the sign is.  So our friend looks on her phone and sees another ice cream store across the street.  We drive over and circle the lot.  No ice cream store.  So we call it a day and come home.  It is amazing how many stores are out of business yet they still leave the sign up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1580107635906199521?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1580107635906199521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1580107635906199521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1580107635906199521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1580107635906199521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/wear-are-you.html' title='Wear are you?'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7747484007095669897</id><published>2011-06-19T05:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T05:42:53.376-04:00</updated><title type='text'>By the seat of our pants</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Wendy and I purchased a new car seat for Joy.  Wendy did a lot of research on them and found the one she wanted.  We cashed in a couple of gifts cards and had a discounted coupon.  So we went over to the store to get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had one that was ten dollars cheaper on the shelf.  We thought about getting it, but the store did not have it in stock.  So Wendy got the one she was going to get anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did not have to pay anything for the car seat.  That is good news to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the hard part.  Having to install it.  Everyone talked about how easy it is.  The clerk and the internet.  So I go out last night to put it in.  I put the straps in wrong.  I get the straps twisted.  Wendy wanted to put down a protective mat.  Finally after who knows how long, it is in.  After my installation she watches the video online and say, "It looks like you did it the hard way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today will be the test day.  It appears to be tight.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never understand why baby equipment is so complicated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7747484007095669897?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7747484007095669897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7747484007095669897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7747484007095669897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7747484007095669897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/by-seat-of-our-pants.html' title='By the seat of our pants'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-9137566604848302811</id><published>2011-06-18T06:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T06:54:02.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just visiting</title><content type='html'>Wendy and I watched &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Tourist&lt;/span&gt; last night.  I guess it was alright.  Wendy said she did not really know what was happening and could not get into the movie.  It was an action thriller.  Sort of like a chase movie.  Everybody was after the main character.  I guess it is tough when you have the good guys and bad guys chasing you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did lead me to a few observations.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why in a movie can the police never arrest the bad guy?  It is early in the movie and they have everything set up, but the bad guy gets away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is the woman that is supposed to be incredible looking not looking good to me?  I guess it is the actresses they pick.  I have never been a fan of Angelina Jolie's kind of attractiveness.  Speaking of Jolie, what is the deal with her lips?  She looked like she had a huge gash on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movies love big budgets.  Everybody has throw away money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.  Those are just a few thoughts, but just like most details, I have forgotten them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-9137566604848302811?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/9137566604848302811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=9137566604848302811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/9137566604848302811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/9137566604848302811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/just-visiting.html' title='Just visiting'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-922074485789818199</id><published>2011-06-17T11:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T11:07:44.218-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pro create</title><content type='html'>I am not really a creative person.  Most of the time my line of thinking is "Why didn't I think of that?"  However, I do respect creative people.  I enjoy hearing and seeing things that are interesting and especially funny.  True we also need the more practical people who implement the ideas of the creative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed that many creative people have weird, or what I would label as weird, lifestyles.  Do creative people do things differently because they are focused on something else?  Or do we think that different people are creative?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creative people say that they are only trying to satisfy themselves.  I think they have to satisfy a bunch of people.  If they do not then their careers do not last long.  There is a lot of pressure in being creative.  Maybe that is another reason why they are different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I will keep my ordinary life.  That way I only have two people to satisfy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-922074485789818199?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/922074485789818199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=922074485789818199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/922074485789818199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/922074485789818199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/pro-create.html' title='Pro create'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4134397588657855938</id><published>2011-06-17T10:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T11:00:01.578-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just chill</title><content type='html'>I am sitting here with goosebumps on my arms.  I guess that beats the alternative from the other end of the goose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must keep the temperature at my house pretty high before the air comes on.  Part of it is because when the air comes on, it stays on for what seems like an eternity.  I am in a place where the temperature is kept according to most normal peoples temperature.  However, I am not normal.  I will say this upfront.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am accused of not turning the air on.  I do not use the air when I am by myself, unless I absolutely have to.  I am also the guy who sleeps covered even in the middle of summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am neither a cool guy nor a hot guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4134397588657855938?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4134397588657855938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4134397588657855938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4134397588657855938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4134397588657855938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/just-chill.html' title='Just chill'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-5322476823158477508</id><published>2011-06-16T06:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T06:34:17.042-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Food for thought</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I did something I rarely do.  I ate a restaurant by myself.  It was a fast food joint of course.  I am sure that I have done it in the past, but I do not like to eat in places by myself.  If I am eating a meal by myself then I will just eat what I have available.  I know some people have to eat meals by themselves in public places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy and Joy were eating lunch with a friend.  I had obtained a coupon for a free shake, well after you buy a combo, at Arbys.  The expiration date was set for yesterday.  Since Wendy was out with a friend, she said go ahead and use that coupon.  So I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was alright.  A little pricey, but everything seems that way now.  I got a Reuben sandwich.  It was cut into two half sandwiches.  So one half was more of a sauerkraut sandwich.  The free shake was a Jamocha Oreo.  Basically it was a Jamocha shake with crushed Oreo on top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have gotten a lot of coupons lately about buying one thing and receiving another.  Sometimes it has been worth it.  Even if it has taught us not to get that particular item again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-5322476823158477508?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/5322476823158477508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=5322476823158477508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5322476823158477508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5322476823158477508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/food-for-thought.html' title='Food for thought'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4499122206062379271</id><published>2011-06-14T05:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T05:59:46.887-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't bother me</title><content type='html'>Why is it that more people have phones yet I always get there voice mail?  What are they doing with their phones?  When I call some customer service number I have to listen to five minutes of options.  Sometimes it is helpful, but if I am going to speak to an operator and get transferred anyway, why not let me speak to a person after the first ring?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it all comes down to people not wanting to be bothered.  I know sometimes I do not know want to be bothered.  When the phone rings sometimes I feel "Now what?"  Wendy does not like to talk on the phone.  I do not have too many people to call.  I try to talk to my parents, but that is only a five minute conversation.  Wendy always laughs when I call them because I always say, "Hey, Mom.  It is Jonathan."  Why then are we paying for 700 minutes, but cannot get anything less?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do prefer talking on the phone over texting and somewhat e-mail.  Maybe I am a more verbal person or I just cannot write.  It is probably more that I am in impatient and want to handle something right then.  With texting and e-mail I have to wait for the person to respond.  Then something is said that goes back to something talked about minutes ago and I have no idea what.  At least in talking voice to ear you get an immediate answer or you know the other person does not care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, talk to, um, type to, more like avoid you later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4499122206062379271?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4499122206062379271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4499122206062379271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4499122206062379271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4499122206062379271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/dont-bother-me.html' title='Don&apos;t bother me'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4110247789378128797</id><published>2011-06-14T05:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T05:48:45.921-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jaw dropping</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I could not stop yawning.  I know that I received plenty of sleep the night before.  Yet, I found myself with my mouth open wide and my hand to my face.  I am not sure if it is when I do thing certain things that make me yawn more.  I will have to sleep on it and let you know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4110247789378128797?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4110247789378128797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4110247789378128797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4110247789378128797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4110247789378128797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/jaw-dropping.html' title='Jaw dropping'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7531903909091173671</id><published>2011-06-13T07:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T07:21:32.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What you talking about jive turkey?</title><content type='html'>A while ago Wendy sent me to the grocery store for a few items.  This is usually a dangerous thing because I buy random assortments.  Fortunately, I do end up getting what Wendy has put on the list.  Well, most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night I was glancing through the meat section.  I was visiting Kroger, for those keeping score at home.  Kroger often has in store items that are close to the selling date, which they put on manager's special.  This means they are price reduced.  Those words rate on my top ten radar.  We have found some pretty good deals.  So I am perusing the  isle looking for that special sticker.  I found a few items that met my cheap price and taste bud.  There was a package of turkey legs.  It was on sale.  I thought, well, why not?  So I purchase it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward a few days.  I tell Wendy we have those turkey legs as we do our daily discussion of what we eat.  We both veto the turkey a couple of times.  Finally over the weekend I wear Wendy down and the turkey will be eaten for dinner.  So I put the legs in the oven to cook.  We pull them out.  They look okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The turkey legs were pretty tough to eat.  It was hard to get into the meat.  It also was mainly fat and bone.  Wendy said they sort of tasted like ham.  It was not the greatest in the world.  I told Wendy I could not imagine eating a turkey leg from the fair.  I hate to throw away food, but I had to toss my piece.  I had eaten some, but not much.  I am glad that I had gotten it on sale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make us feel better we had some doughnuts, which we had bought on manager's choice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7531903909091173671?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7531903909091173671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7531903909091173671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7531903909091173671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7531903909091173671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/what-you-talking-about-jive-turkey.html' title='What you talking about jive turkey?'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7137864980159409099</id><published>2011-06-11T06:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-11T07:03:26.037-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A la cart</title><content type='html'>Last night Wendy, Joy, and I were at Kmart.  She was looking for the baseball card holder sheets for storage for coupons.  We were usually a cart to wheel around Joy in her carrier.  As we are exiting the store I put back the cart or try to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were two rows of carts.  I did not really pay attention.  So I choose one row of carts and try to place the cart in line.  It does not go.  I think well I do not have it lined up right.  I try again.  Nope.  Try one more time.  Nope.  Again.  Denied.  According to Wendy, it was BAM!  BAM! BAM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point Wendy is laughing and puts me out of my misery by informing me the two rows of carts are different.  So I put the cart in the row over. Success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the way to the car, Wendy is laughing about my lack of observation.  I am not sure how I made it this far in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing I am not Amish and have to deal with buggies on a regular basis.  I would probably put it in the wrong barn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7137864980159409099?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7137864980159409099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7137864980159409099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7137864980159409099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7137864980159409099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/la-cart.html' title='A la cart'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-6929609600834581087</id><published>2011-06-10T14:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T14:32:40.559-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I second that emotion</title><content type='html'>I have come up with a new term for Wendy to keep me in check.  Granted I may not remember later and when she mentions it, I will have no idea what she is talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember in school when you had the scantrons and people always said have your number 2 pencil?  You had to use them to take a test.  Apparently I was in a mood last night and Wendy accused me (guilty as charged of being testy).  My mind today went to the phrase number two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could also be used to describe a bowel movement.  So why not go further and describe a crappy attitude?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am in my funk Wendy can ask, "How is Number Two?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it will flush out an answer and hopefully the correct one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-6929609600834581087?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/6929609600834581087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=6929609600834581087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6929609600834581087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6929609600834581087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-second-that-emotion.html' title='I second that emotion'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7514713731058174068</id><published>2011-06-09T07:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T07:27:26.118-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You feel me?</title><content type='html'>Feelings.  We hear so much about them and most people show that they have them.  All we want is someone to understand what we are feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am reading a book by Drs. Les and Leslie Parrott called &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Trading Places&lt;/span&gt;.  The Parrotts are psychologists who deal with marriage and other relationships.  Oh yeah, they are husband and wife.  The main theme of this book is empathy.  They say the best way to have a good relationship with a spouse is through putting yourself in the partner's view.  This leads to true understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is important to get to the underlying issue.  People will not be upfront with you.  I know I am not.  I will bury the issue that is bothering me and focus on something else.  It takes head and heart action to take the time to fully understand someone's feelings.  Then the real concern can be handled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Parrotts say that most couples feel they do not understand what the other is thinking.  It can be difficult.  The good news is they say it is not as difficult as it sounds, if you work at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think like your spouse or the special person, then you can truly understand.  It can be a scary thing, but not as scary a misunderstanding between a couple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7514713731058174068?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7514713731058174068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7514713731058174068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7514713731058174068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7514713731058174068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/you-feel-me.html' title='You feel me?'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-3798659766007083333</id><published>2011-06-09T07:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T07:15:22.422-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Follow the leader</title><content type='html'>It is amazing to me how many innovators say that the key to success is reading.  I live to read, but I admit I am a page turner.  It seems that great leaders and other successful types are able to take what they read and relate it to what they are trying to accomplish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take a little bit of enjoyment when I see that someone I am reading about is referencing someone I have hear of.  I have heard about a lot of interesting people that are being referenced in the books I have read.  The hard part is to remember them once I turn in the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Word up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-3798659766007083333?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/3798659766007083333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=3798659766007083333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3798659766007083333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3798659766007083333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/follow-leader.html' title='Follow the leader'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1233087205150834214</id><published>2011-06-07T12:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T12:41:43.749-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons I love my wife</title><content type='html'>It is not so anniversary that I have forgotten (LORD, I hope not) why I am writing this.  I was just thanking about my lovely wife.  Here in no particular order (except the ones she rearranges) are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY WENDY IS A WONDERFUL WIFE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Without her I would be lost. Literally.  I have no sense of direction and she is like a GPS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-She is a loving and wonderful mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-She is committed to what she believes in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-She is my tech support when I cannot figure out a feature on my computer, phone, printer, watch, well pretty much everything I own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-She listens to me rant about her favorite shows before throwing the remote control at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-She saves me a lot of money with her coupon cutting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-She gets me out of the house and occasionally lets me back in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-When I explode, she is there to pick up the pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-She is my fashion sense.  You can tell when I leave the house before she wakes up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-She knows just how long to cook something.  I usually burn it or leave it too cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just a few of the reasons I love my wife.  It has been only a few years, but I will have plenty to come up with more reasons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1233087205150834214?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1233087205150834214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1233087205150834214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1233087205150834214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1233087205150834214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/reasons-i-love-my-wife.html' title='Reasons I love my wife'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-455951862437147817</id><published>2011-06-06T08:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T08:57:48.476-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My wife is always right...</title><content type='html'>When will I learn to listen to her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend upon returning from visiting Wendy's parents, we decided that it was time to pick up some more baby food.  We had been in Target over the weekend and saw they had some pretty good prices.  So Sunday afternoon we load in the car to head to Target.  I had played on using a coupon for a BOGO ice cream.  Unfortunately, it was not near the Target I expected.  That is another story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we leave Wendy wanted to change her shirt.  She pulls out a red shirt and says to me, "I wonder if I should wear this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I respond, "Why not?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because anytime I wear a red shirt to Target people think I work there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There shirts are collared and you are not wearing khaki pants.  You should be fine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrive at the bullseye and are standing in the baby aisle.  Then you guessed it.  A woman pushing a cart with a child and dragging a man behind her comes yelling, "You got a dressing room here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy responds, "I don't work here.  Sorry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never underestimate what people will say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I reflect upon it, I wish I had said, "Nope.  We encourage people to just use the middle of the aisle."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems a lot of stores have a dress code.  Maybe it helps some people identify the store employee, it also helps lead to confusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if I could only pick up a paycheck for the times we have been mistaken for employees...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-455951862437147817?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/455951862437147817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=455951862437147817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/455951862437147817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/455951862437147817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-wife-is-always-right.html' title='My wife is always right...'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7719963190964123504</id><published>2011-05-29T06:01:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T06:22:37.583-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Behind the looking glass</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Wendy, Joy, and I went to the zoo along with Wendy's brother, sister in law and their 3 year old.  It was an okay time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left the house around 8 am because the zoo did not open until 9.  The drive down is not bad, from our map, it is basically down 64 west.  We get to zoo about 9:30.  Already I see a bunch of cars in the parking lot.  I say that it looks crowded, but Wendy says it does not too bad.  We park in the Africa lot because that is the part of the zoo that Wendy had heard it was best to start with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After bathroom breaks, we make our way through the trails.  Strollers were pushed uphill and then glided downhill.  I have no idea how far we walked.  I could not even tell you the animals we saw.  Most of them had their butt to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we finished walking through Africa, it was time to come to North America.  We  stopped for lunch at the area between Africa and North America.  It was crowded and we scrambled to find a table.  Fortunately, we found one and it was somewhat out of the sun.  Wendy's brother and I hunted down our lunch.  We picked up chicken tenders for the ladies and guys had burgers.  I had contemplated getting a salad and muffin, but the muffin was $3.  So I thought no way.  I was going to get a chicken sandwich, but one was not in the line.  The moment I picked up my burger, the server came by and asked if anyone wanted a chicken sandwich.  Oh well, the burger was cheaper.  We eat our meal and get some ice cream cones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy's nephew wanted to see a Dora show.  So they stand in line for an hour to see a 10 minute program.  They said it was worth though.  The line was in an open area and people, mainly small children, are expected to stand in it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy, Joy, and I venture off to part of North America to an exhibit we thought we missed in Africa.  After visiting that, we came back and still wanted a few minutes for the family to get out of the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we take a tram to North America, to see the bears.  By this time it is almost 4 and the zoo closes at 5.  We walk around more and then it is time to go.  We talk about taking the tram, but figure we will walk since the line was long.  We make it back to the car and head home with our safari ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did not rain on us, I was surprised.  The kids hung in there.  Joy only took a 20 minute nap while we waited for them to get out of the show.  I was shocked there was so much to do.  We were out all day and on the move.  It was pretty good to see nature in a manufactured natural way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7719963190964123504?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7719963190964123504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7719963190964123504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7719963190964123504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7719963190964123504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/behind-looking-glass.html' title='Behind the looking glass'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8115096162314068052</id><published>2011-05-25T07:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T07:57:07.925-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A picture is worth a 1000 attempts</title><content type='html'>I have to respect the people who take plenty of pictures and are able to upload them.  Then use the pictures in creative ways or as their avatar for the social media of choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time I leave a picture in place for a long period of time.  I do not take many pictures personally.  Wendy is pretty good about taking pictures.  Sometimes I will snag one she took and use it for desktop at work.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, some pictures I have the hardest time formatting with the screen.  They look stretched or blurry.  Is it something I am doing wrong.  I have for the past two recent pictures tried to set them as my background.  It is not working like I want.  I am not sure if the resolution is off.  If so how do I fix it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I still have on my computer a semi recent picture from Easter.  That one formatted without any trouble.  It has become my stand by for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure a picture with me in needs all the help it can get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8115096162314068052?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8115096162314068052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8115096162314068052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8115096162314068052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8115096162314068052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/picture-is-worth-1000-attempts.html' title='A picture is worth a 1000 attempts'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-6199226737520812247</id><published>2011-05-19T07:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T08:02:38.164-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trippin'</title><content type='html'>Wendy and Joy are visiting Wendy's parents for a couple of days.  It has been awhile since they have since Joy.  Granted they saw her on Mother's day, but that was a few weeks ago.  Plus it will be a few weeks before we could make it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother left last night to go to Florida and Alabama.  He is watching some kind of big concert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farthest I am probably going in the next few days is the three miles to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-6199226737520812247?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/6199226737520812247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=6199226737520812247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6199226737520812247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6199226737520812247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/trippin.html' title='Trippin&apos;'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-3359445321322944528</id><published>2011-05-18T10:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T10:23:24.665-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pym and proper</title><content type='html'>For those that do not get the reference I will talking about ants! Henry Pym is a character in the Marvel universe known as Ant-Man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just another creature that has taken residence near our building.  I guess with all the rain we have become Noah's Ark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ants have invaded and are just hanging around.  Maybe with high unemployment rate they are looking for jobs too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-3359445321322944528?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/3359445321322944528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=3359445321322944528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3359445321322944528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3359445321322944528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/pym-and-proper.html' title='Pym and proper'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8140279136779501721</id><published>2011-05-18T07:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T08:03:27.351-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You don't like me when I am angry...why I have no friends</title><content type='html'>That is an extremely long title so I apologize about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having one of those days when I am not happy.  It is one of those days when I feel frustrated.  I admit I am overreacting a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pull into the parking lot at work and realize I forgot to bring something for my brother, whom I am meeting after work.  Good news is I only live a few miles away from the building.  Still a hassle.  How do I forget to do the one thing I have been thinking about doing for days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At work while opening up the building one of the lights in the kitchen area is out.  SO I proceed to change that.  The screen in the frame starts to slide out of the frame.  Fortunately, it did not come all the way out.  But I have to replace the frame.  The bulb was hard to get out of the socket and put back in.  However, it did come on.  So for the most part, there were hassles, but they were overcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I have not felt satisfied.  Things are getting more on my nerves.  I feel like I am not communicating well with those around me.  Like what I am saying is not making any sense.  I am sure it is my delivery.  I do not have the greatest diction or thought pattern.  Evidence 1A for the jury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The easy thing is the I can control my actions, the hard thing is controlling my actions.  I am pretty influenced by external sources.  So if things do not go well, then I do not go well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You last your whole lifetime, circumstances last about two minutes.  A good life is what is put into it not taken out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I still mope and need to be slapped around a little bit?  Probably.  The good news is that I am not as alone as I sometimes feel and I have someone to slap me around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8140279136779501721?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8140279136779501721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8140279136779501721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8140279136779501721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8140279136779501721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/you-dont-like-me-when-i-am-angrywhy-i.html' title='You don&apos;t like me when I am angry...why I have no friends'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1253518604191399701</id><published>2011-05-18T07:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T07:49:21.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Black and blue</title><content type='html'>I often, okay always, get dressed in a hurry.  I try to not spend too much time looking at the clothes I put on.  There are special occasions when I choose more carefully what I wear, mainly when Wendy happens to see what I previously put on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other morning I grab a pair of socks from the drawer.  Then I get to work and glance down and see that one is blue and one is black.  My pants covered the mix up and I sit behind a desk, so no one commented.  The pathetic thing is that I have done that before.  Because I know I washed this socks.  This means I put the wrong pair together at least twice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well if you cannot be good, then be consistent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1253518604191399701?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1253518604191399701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1253518604191399701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1253518604191399701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1253518604191399701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/black-and-blue.html' title='Black and blue'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-6605680289714058996</id><published>2011-05-18T07:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T07:44:46.282-04:00</updated><title type='text'>See snake</title><content type='html'>It is another case of Hiss and Hers.  That is right it is that time of year for the serpents to slither forth.  At my place of employment there is woods behind us.  Plus we have bushes and pine straw to surround our landscape.  So each year around this time snakes come up and suntan out on our sidewalks.  So when the employees come in and out they are greeted with a new lawn ornament.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it is up to my department to drive them away.  I am not a big fan of snakes, but I do what I can.  The other day people saw two.  The first did not put up much of a fight.  My supervisor kept an eye on the snake while I got a shovel and yard rake.  If you do not watch the snake, it will slither away and hide.  Then we have no chance of finding it.  So I return with the tools.  We prod at, pick up (with the tools), and shoo the snake.  We send it back to the woods, since it was a black snake and can help control the vermin population.  This was first thing in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the morning, someone gets me and says there is another snake.  The first was on the main sidewalk.  This was one was on another sidewalk.  By the time I got outside it was already in the bushes.  I tried to get it with the rake, but could not.  So I lost that one.  I searched for a few minutes, but it was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after lunch someone called saying she saw a snake reclining against the building.  By the time I was out there, it was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might be time to incorporate snake handling into our Baptist worship.  Either that or learn how to cook them and have that for our next staff luncheon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a semi related topic of wondering animals.  We have geese that keep leaving deposits at our front door.  Fortunately, they have not learned to lit it on fire yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-6605680289714058996?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/6605680289714058996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=6605680289714058996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6605680289714058996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6605680289714058996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/see-snake.html' title='See snake'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-6499352619810363741</id><published>2011-05-15T05:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T05:41:52.945-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On the shopping block</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Wendy, Joy, and I made up with a friend at one of the malls.  We have not been to this mall in quite awhile.  Now I think I know why.  It felt packed.  The parking lot was full and  it took us awhile to find a place.  It was one of those parking garages.  At one point we had to wait about two minutes for a person waiting to get a spot.  We made it into the mall and there were more people.  I doubt it would work, but they need devoted mall lanes of traffic, like the HOV lanes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent most of the afternoon walking around.  Better than spending money I guess.  Not that we could afford too much.  We did take advantage, along with several other people, the half price frappuccino deal at Starbucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The part that was a little irritating about the mall, besides the crowd, was the search for the restroom.  I had to walk the mall just to find a restroom.  I must have been at the wrong place at the wrong time.  One time when I had to change Joy's diaper I had to walk down four hallways to get to the restroom.  I told Wendy I should write that thank you for having such long hallways, now I can pee and just float down the hallway.  The family restroom was locked and you had to be buzzed in.  I thought that was not worth it.  One good thing was that the changing table in the men's restroom was out of the way and I did not have to stand in a urinal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew that people liked to shop on a Saturday?  The malls apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Wendy, Joy, and I went to a discount place and bought some clothes for around 3 dollars a piece.  Now that is retail therapy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-6499352619810363741?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/6499352619810363741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=6499352619810363741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6499352619810363741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6499352619810363741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/on-shopping-block.html' title='On the shopping block'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-6371312977151959864</id><published>2011-05-13T15:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T15:54:46.048-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Limited site</title><content type='html'>You never realize how much you miss something until it is not there.  A couple of websites I visit have been down.  I keep trying and thinking that something will change.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question is am I going to the website more since I am trying to get it to work or do I really visit those sites that much?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-6371312977151959864?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/6371312977151959864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=6371312977151959864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6371312977151959864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6371312977151959864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/limited-site.html' title='Limited site'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4826851447380344683</id><published>2011-05-13T13:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T13:13:59.681-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay tuned for an impotent message</title><content type='html'>I had a horrible day yesterday.  Now granted it was probably my attitude.  I am sure that I was not at my happiest.  It was one of those days that you actually think, "Wow, it something happened to me, it could only improve."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started off with something I had planned to do not working.  Then it deepened into a desire not to be at work.  While at work everything I touched seemed to go kaput.  I felt like I had no answers for the questions people were asking.  Mercifully the day ended.  I am in one piece.  Who knows about my psyche?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attitude does have a lot to do with the outlook on the day.  If I am in a bad mood, then it does not take much to set me off.  If I am in a good mood, then it takes a few more things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been better.  Which is bizarre because it is Friday the 13th, seen as a bad luck day.  So far so good anyway.  Or bad for the 13th.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4826851447380344683?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4826851447380344683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4826851447380344683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4826851447380344683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4826851447380344683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/stay-tuned-for-impotent-message.html' title='Stay tuned for an impotent message'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7211120070198293724</id><published>2011-05-12T07:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T16:52:57.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The mother of all tributes</title><content type='html'>I know I am several days late with this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Mother's Day!  They say better late than never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope if you are a momma or have a momma that you/she had a fantastic day.  It is a day when we joke about having to get cards, flowers, and other gifts.  Because we know if we do not give those things...well if momma ain't happy, then nobody's happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most moms will tell you the material things don't matter.  Sure they love receiving it, but who wouldn't.  I think, now I am a male so my opinion of women is often wrong, that spending time with the family is gift they enjoy.  For women who have children outside the home this most applies.  For the women who spend everyday with their family, they enjoy seeing the dad in a feeble attempt to care for the children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother's Day is special because the majority of mother's get the treatment, only temporarily, they deserve.  They are honored and celebrated.  We love it because seeing the smile on their face...well it beats the alternative.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7211120070198293724?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7211120070198293724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7211120070198293724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7211120070198293724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7211120070198293724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/mother-of-all-tributes.html' title='The mother of all tributes'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8015849386255475605</id><published>2011-05-12T07:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T16:52:57.447-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hypocritical oath</title><content type='html'>I promise to do no harm....to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise to change my mind constantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is only a problem if it affects me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it comes to posting information I know I am a hypocrite.  I constantly check for updates on websites that I visit.  Most of the time they do pretty well about staying new.  I have a hard time updating my own information.  Fortunately, I do not have a multitude of readers waiting to see what I have to say.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time I feel like I have nothing to report.  The other times, I feel like I have something wonderful to share, but I forget what it was.  Most of been really important then?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8015849386255475605?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8015849386255475605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8015849386255475605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8015849386255475605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8015849386255475605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/hypocritical-oath.html' title='Hypocritical oath'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4141017461998982669</id><published>2011-05-12T07:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T16:52:57.507-04:00</updated><title type='text'>With a face like that you need talent</title><content type='html'>Wendy and I were halfway watching American Idol last night.  She was on the laptop and I was reading.  Who did they drag up to "guide" the contestants?  Lady Gaga.  She would not even make it own the show as a contestant and yet because she has eight number ones, there she is.  Anyway, what is the deal with her face?  I know she is infamous for her outfits.  But in my opinion, she looked awful.  The getup sure went on that outfit.  It made her face look like she was 80.  Her eyes and teeth looked awful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am not one to judge on appearance, but Lady Gaga wanted to make me Really Gaggag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4141017461998982669?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4141017461998982669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4141017461998982669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4141017461998982669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4141017461998982669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/05/with-face-like-that-you-need-talent.html' title='With a face like that you need talent'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-1196448849157925186</id><published>2011-04-12T05:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T05:25:27.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgive us our debts</title><content type='html'>I saw the other day that President Obama wants to increase the debt ceiling.  Now I am the last person to discuss anything political or financial.  It struck me as odd that he said if we do not raise the debt ceiling that it would be "Armageddon like."  A few years ago he was against raising it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thing is would no it be "Armageddon like" if we keep raising it?  Raising the ceiling, would let us go deeper into debt?  I do not really understand.  Granted I would love to say who cares.  I definitely do not have any answers.  I would think the thing to do is to reduce some debt or at least not put any money to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not seen it since, so I do not know if it is real, but I saw a commercial talking about our massive debt the Chinese.  The instructor was telling his class how the Chinese people will own America because we love debt so much.  A little scary to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what will happen in this "Armageddon like" times?  I am sure at least One.  On the good side we can only afford three of the four horsemen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-1196448849157925186?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/1196448849157925186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=1196448849157925186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1196448849157925186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/1196448849157925186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/04/forgive-us-our-debts.html' title='Forgive us our debts'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-5262370716506155236</id><published>2011-04-12T05:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T05:16:43.591-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What is in a name?</title><content type='html'>Apparently tequila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Applebees served a 15 month old alcohol.  The child's parents thought the child was acting weird.  So they check his sippy cup.  Turns out the apple juice was a little fermented as in from a margarita mix.  No one at the table had even ordered alcohol.  The child was taken to the hospital and the management at Applebees apologized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out this is not the first mixed drink story involving toddlers.  It looks like Applebees is changing their policy on juice and only serving single containers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not even know Applebees served apple juice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think a lot more people will order of the kids menu?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-5262370716506155236?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/5262370716506155236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=5262370716506155236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5262370716506155236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5262370716506155236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-is-in-name.html' title='What is in a name?'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4456202299719996298</id><published>2011-04-10T07:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T07:11:49.581-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Night takes pawn</title><content type='html'>What is the purpose of all the bizarre pawn shows recently?  I guess there is Pawn Stars, where guys obsess over junk piles looking for the next big thing; Hollywood Treasures, looking for the priceless memorabilia; and we found a new one last night, Oddities, a pawn shop dealing in the macabre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is always random people who have random things.  I guess people watch it to see what odd person is going to bring in the odd thing.  Maybe people like to see the haggling?  People pay a lot of money for what looks like junk.  I guess it is all about the eye of the beholder.  The wallet may have something to do with it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it has something to do with American Roadshow, where people brought in things they thought are worth money.  Everyone wants to find that item which will increase their wealth.  A few  people get surprised pleasantly, but most walk away disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is grandma's toe clippings!  They are worth money...to grandpa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4456202299719996298?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4456202299719996298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4456202299719996298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4456202299719996298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4456202299719996298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/04/night-takes-pawn.html' title='Night takes pawn'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-9013041961412512010</id><published>2011-04-10T06:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T07:02:45.489-04:00</updated><title type='text'>American Idol Warship</title><content type='html'>I know this post is a little late compared to the professional blogs and reports about Thursday's surprise in American Idol.  However, I thought I would give my comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not really want American Idol.  I only lift my eyes from my book I am reading when something might catch my attention.  I think the show is past its prime.  I have said this before, but who is the show helping?  Not the winners.  Are the past season winners actually doing anything?  It might help the creators of the show and the advertisers.  It might even help the random few who get voted off early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to see ya Pia.  It was a shock to everyone.  I think according to the judges reaction they were mad.  They probably want to take away the voting rights of the American people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was a casual viewer, I would feel insulted the judges we were mad at me, the viewer.  That is my first reaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy has some good points about the show.  She feels that everyone thought Pia was going to win, so they did not vote for her.  Pia will get a record label.  I think her early exit was a step in that direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Wendy observation, which  I agree, is that the past season contestants are awful.  They have been bringing back guest singers.  They sound horrible.  I guess they have not been winners, but the rookies are better than the pros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I know?  They are the ones making money.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-9013041961412512010?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/9013041961412512010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=9013041961412512010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/9013041961412512010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/9013041961412512010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/04/american-idol-warship.html' title='American Idol Warship'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7970279393045350076</id><published>2011-04-07T06:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T06:23:39.261-04:00</updated><title type='text'>There is strength in numbers</title><content type='html'>After reading some books and seeing some evidence in the media, I have come to a certain conclusion.  Some people have a lot of children.  Most of the time these people are successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It used to be that families were large and in charge.  You had to have a large work force.  Now it is seems the individual is the focus.  However, there are people who are still painting by the numbers.  Often it seems these people are in ministry.  Most pastors or Christian celebrities talk about having at least four children.  Insert joke about "Be fruitful and multiply"  your bank account.  Perhaps there is the tax break.  One case when additions can lead to deductions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entertainment figures have children.  Or if they do not on their own, they get them.  Granted most are not seen, but just appear in the entourage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would it be nice to have several children?  I would think so.  Though sometimes one seems like a large number.  However, I need a group to take care of me when I am older.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7970279393045350076?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7970279393045350076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7970279393045350076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7970279393045350076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7970279393045350076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/04/there-is-strength-in-numbers.html' title='There is strength in numbers'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8537393763653323933</id><published>2011-04-06T04:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T04:53:48.193-04:00</updated><title type='text'>With your coupon this read is free</title><content type='html'>Hello to all you cheapskates.  Does it still have wheels?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy and I are trying to get into the habit of using coupons.  We used them occasionally in the past.  It always seemed that you had to spend so much to get the item.  Like buy two and save 50 cent.  From jail I guess.  Most of the coupons we receive are for things we do not use.  We have let coupons expire.  Of course we find out when we need the item.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing the ease of getting coupons.  I have once even used Facebook to get coupons.  Wendy does this all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have to say or type that it is a thrill to see the bill be reduced.  It eases my mind and my wallet.  I do not see how the extreme-ers do it.  They walk out with thousands of items for only twenty dollars or less.  For the time being I am satisfied with my tens of purchases and saving a few dollars.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8537393763653323933?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8537393763653323933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8537393763653323933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8537393763653323933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8537393763653323933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/04/with-your-coupon-this-read-is-free.html' title='With your coupon this read is free'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7568113351452467602</id><published>2011-04-02T05:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-02T05:46:15.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No worm for this early bird</title><content type='html'>There is just something about getting up early.  Of course this is when I want to wake up, not because of some obligation to get me up.  I think my best time is in the morning.  Is it because everyone else is asleep?  Or because I function better in the morning?  It is a time when I can catch up on things.  Sometimes it goes extremely fast.  Other times like this morning it is pretty slow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without any evidence I think that I would like a job where the schedule was to leave by one pm.  That might require me to be at work at five am or earlier.  Would that be terrible?  Probably some mornings.  However, during that time of morning Wendy and Joy are asleep.  I could be at work and then have the rest of the day to spend with them.  Now by the time I get home and we do a couple of things, boom!, the evening already over.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to go to bed somewhat early.  It would be a contest between Joy and me to see who hits the hay first.  Sometimes I win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be nice to come home for lunch and that be the end of the day.  It seems like some people's production time is not until the end of the day.  Working in the afternoon is no fun.  But, who said work is supposed to be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I can dream.  At least in the early evening when I go to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7568113351452467602?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7568113351452467602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7568113351452467602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7568113351452467602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7568113351452467602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/04/no-worm-for-this-early-bird.html' title='No worm for this early bird'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-7847704201459399539</id><published>2011-04-01T04:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T04:52:23.335-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you say niner in there?</title><content type='html'>Well I do not know how I did it.  Probably because I did not do most of it.  Wendy and I have a nine month out.  Joy has been out more than she has been in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a pretty good nine months.  Joy does treat us better than we deserve.  She will give us some tough times now and then.  But, we all have a turn at been cranky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is to many more months to come and experiences to share and learn from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Joy wanted to celebrate her arrival and wanted to be up this morning.  Fortunately, we convinced her she needed more rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-7847704201459399539?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/7847704201459399539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=7847704201459399539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7847704201459399539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/7847704201459399539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/04/did-you-say-niner-in-there.html' title='Did you say niner in there?'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-5997241201708281612</id><published>2011-03-29T05:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T05:24:01.034-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hospitable conditions</title><content type='html'>Wendy had a procedure done yesterday.  Everything is fine.  Here are some observations from the non-participant.  I now know why they call them patients.  All you do is wait.  We get to the parking lot a little before 8 am and it is already crowded.  Fortunately, we find a spot.  When we walk through the doors we are greeted by a woman who asks where we need to be.  She takes us to the receptionist who gives us a number.  Then as soon as we get to the lobby for day surgery our number is called for Wendy to check in.  The check in process is not bad and the person gives Wendy her bracelet, which is checked at every place.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We proceed to another lobby for the actual day surgery wing.  There Wendy is given a pager.  We wait about 30 minutes.  It goes off.  A nurse takes Wendy back to prepare her for the procedure.  I am still in the lobby, with the pager.  Another random assortment of minutes pass.  The pager goes off again.  I go to the desk and the person says, "Go through that door."  I walk in and it is busy.  There are patients behind doors, nurses with carts, and doctors in scrubs.  I go up to the desk and Wendy sees me through her door.  So Wendy and I wait in her tiny room for about 20 minutes.  Then the anesthesiologist and crew come in.  Each member asks the same questions.  The doctor performing the procedures come in for two minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are ready to take Wendy back for the procedure.  So I return to the waiting room.  Fortunately, I had a book. So I was not too bored.  When the procedure was over, it took about 45 minutes, the pager went off again.  So I go to the desk.  The doctor is on the phone.  To me, the reception sounded crappy.  The volume was so low.  The doctor is trying to tell me results about a procedure that I know nothing about.  Fortunately, everything is okay and it went well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I wait another 45 minutes while Wendy is recovering.  The pager goes off one last time.  I proceed back behind the door.  This time Wendy is dressed in her clothes and in a room with just a curtain.  You can hear other patients being addressed with their discharge orders.  A nurse comes back to talk to Wendy about what she can and cannot do.  Then I am sent to get the car and Wendy rolls out to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not too offend anyone in the healthcare industry, but the hospital is not where I want to me.  It is busy place.  All the staff was nice and knowledgeable.  Most of the patients where the shuffling elderly, who looked like they were going to fall over.  Wendy summed it up best when she compared it to a train station.  Talk about all a bored.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-5997241201708281612?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/5997241201708281612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=5997241201708281612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5997241201708281612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5997241201708281612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/03/hospitable-conditions.html' title='Hospitable conditions'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-3990373912464218343</id><published>2011-03-27T06:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T06:43:12.230-04:00</updated><title type='text'>March is crawling</title><content type='html'>Talk about March Madness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, not that kind where everyone's brackets are doomed because a number one team cannot win.  The madness that comes from March being so drawn out.  Is it just me or is this month lasting forever.  It seemed two weeks ago we should be out of it.  I guess there are a few things in March, but nothing to miss work over.  Well I guess St. Patrick's day fun or Mardi Gras, dependent on your idea of fun.  In March is Wendy and mine anniversary and both Wendy's parents birthdays.  I guess it is just that in December there is Christmas (days off work), the New Year (everyone getting adjusted), February (so short), and then March (nothing but work).  It probably does not help it is 31 days.  We even moved an hour forward!  Check your state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, it is the last week.  Maybe these days will come and go, like the heat wave we had.  Then it is back to the cold reality for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those that enjoy March please do so and take an extra day for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-3990373912464218343?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/3990373912464218343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=3990373912464218343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3990373912464218343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3990373912464218343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/03/march-is-crawling.html' title='March is crawling'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8786524938607613142</id><published>2011-03-27T06:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T06:32:31.109-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Overspended on Expendables</title><content type='html'>Greetings weekend warriors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day my brother and I watched The Expendables.  It was alright for a huge cast of action stars.  I have to wonder about the script writer though.  It seemed like the majority of the dialogue was insults and then the other person staring.  Most of the movie was Sly Stallone and Jason Stantham running around.  The other people played a small role.  Speaking of small roles, Jet Li's character was always picked on for being small and kept being beat up.  I do not think I have seen a Jet Li movie all the way through, but I thought he was pretty unstoppable.  I was surprised to see him used as a punching bag in this movie.  However, a lot of people did get beat up in the Expendables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it came out around the time that other action remake movies appeared.  It was not too bad, if you enjoy fist fights, knife fights, or gun fights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8786524938607613142?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8786524938607613142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8786524938607613142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8786524938607613142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8786524938607613142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/03/overspended-on-expendables.html' title='Overspended on Expendables'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-2610303089961802358</id><published>2011-03-26T15:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-26T15:58:04.274-04:00</updated><title type='text'>According to gym</title><content type='html'>As most of you know or have heard through informed services Wendy and I joined the Y.  It started to get perks through my insurance company if we went to the Y regularly.  It has now become a habit.  Wendy and I go about six days a week.  It still can be a challenge to motivation.  Sometimes we feel like we dominate the workout, while other times it feels like we were dominated.  I get the feeling like I am pushing really hard and I look at the settings on the machine and nothing has changed.  It is amazing how long two minutes can be.  Just ask your electric toothbrush, if you want to know.  Another thing that is unnerving is when I use the weight machines.  There are always set beyond my weight.  I look around and see people who look to be around my size.  I think to myself, how?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nice thing is the nursery.  Of course we have to work around its schedule.  The workers seemed memorized by Joy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am not anywhere near good physical condition, but it is nice to know I can at least fool a machine every once in awhile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-2610303089961802358?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/2610303089961802358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=2610303089961802358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/2610303089961802358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/2610303089961802358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/03/according-to-gym.html' title='According to gym'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-6737831538434997843</id><published>2011-03-26T15:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-26T15:47:57.988-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Due to lack of response</title><content type='html'>Last night a few of us where interested in getting some pizzas.  It is or was my brother, Wendy, two friends from college, and me.  Wendy is having a girls' weekend.  Since the other girls were not at the house yet and Wendy had to finish getting ready and watch Joy, my bro and I went (sent) to pick up the pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I would be proactive and call ahead.  The first dial did not go through.  It was the busy signal.  Then I call back and it rings repeatedly.  I try a few minutes later and get the busy signal.  So we go since we have time anyway.  We arrive at the pizza place.  It was very busy.  All my bro wanted to do was watch the game.  Fortunately, it was on in the background because we were there for a while.  We waited what felt like an eternity.  It might have only been about 30 minutes because the game went to halftime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to support local shops, but sometimes I enjoy the convenience of the chains.  The speed is sometimes faster and sometimes the price is better.  However, once we claimed our food, we were not disappointed.  Maybe that extra weight is a marketing ploy to make the food seem like it taste better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On an unrelated part about customer service, it does seem like when I get a vibe that something is not right or something out of the ordinary happens, that is when I get strange service.  I could just be looking back from a bad experience and thinking oh yeah, there was that marker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-6737831538434997843?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/6737831538434997843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=6737831538434997843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6737831538434997843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/6737831538434997843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/03/due-to-lack-of-response.html' title='Due to lack of response'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-3525874307902126302</id><published>2011-03-23T05:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T05:31:24.054-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A slice of life</title><content type='html'>I have got to hand it to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because this thing is getting heavy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hands are constantly receiving attention.  During the cold weather months my hands are so dry that they crack and bleed.  It is rather annoying.  I have noticed recently that my hands are particularly interested in being injured.  The past several days I receive cuts on my hands.  At the time I do not notice the cut, but then look down to see a smudge of blood.  I do not think I am trying to achieve some blood oath.  However, when I use hand sanitizer I could swear, as the alcohol hits those open areas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it about those little cuts that hurt so much?  I think they are trying to overcompensate.  How come I have a cut on the finger that always brushes up against something?  It must have something to do with averages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should start wearing gloves.  Hey, it works for Mickey Mouse, baseball players, and Michael Jackson (sort of).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the hands on the clock are telling me to get out of here or land the plane.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-3525874307902126302?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/3525874307902126302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=3525874307902126302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3525874307902126302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3525874307902126302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/03/slice-of-life.html' title='A slice of life'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8819182513702649769</id><published>2011-03-23T05:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T05:22:21.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is this thing on?</title><content type='html'>Dear skimmers or scammers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has it really been that long since I have posted anything of importance?  The real question is, have I ever posted anything of importance?  You might be asking yourself what brought me out of hiding.  I have been perusing books about business, marketing, and finance.  It seems all the craze is about blogs.  Who knew?  With millions out there, apparently everybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking about putting out a few posts.  However, like most of my ideas, I did not implement.  Perhaps I will be a little bit at being more productive.  I do not know if I will marathon blog, but maybe I will keep a good track.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8819182513702649769?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8819182513702649769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8819182513702649769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8819182513702649769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8819182513702649769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2011/03/is-this-thing-on.html' title='Is this thing on?'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-5727947765835938093</id><published>2010-09-05T16:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T16:39:51.822-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing up my sleeve, but my arm</title><content type='html'>The other night after I got off work for my weekend of freedom, Wendy, Joy, and I went looking around the mall.  Even though I work across a mall, I do not go there often.  This weekend I have spent more time in a mall than I have in about a year total.  It was worth it though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy was looking for some good deals.  She did not really find what she wanted, though she did settle for a few things.  Joy even got a few things for herself.  I picked up a bunch of shirts.  Nice, long sleeve dress shirts.  They were marked originally almost $40, but were now $5.  So I paid $20 for about $200 worth of shirts.  Or the retail world would have me before.  I was even able to use a gift card that I had no idea even had money on it and I still had one left.  Not anymore though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually only get clothes for Christmas.  Now that I am adult I have to look for really good sales.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-5727947765835938093?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/5727947765835938093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=5727947765835938093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5727947765835938093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/5727947765835938093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2010/09/nothing-up-my-sleeve-but-my-arm.html' title='Nothing up my sleeve, but my arm'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-4711296820693150950</id><published>2010-09-05T16:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T16:32:34.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It is time for a cool change</title><content type='html'>Wild weather we are having?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The holiday were everyone has their last hurrah to the beach and the weather is cool.  Maybe you like the beach to be comfortable, but I want the beach to be hot.  So the water can be hot.  I know I have odd weather tastes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brief exposure I had to the news showed some wind and rain damage to parts of the coast a few days before Labor Day.  I am not sure if it affected too many people.  At least it hit before the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was pretty cool, temperature wise.  It was the first time that my thermostat read below 78.  So it must have been pretty cool.  I think I saw temps in the 50s.  So break out your poodle skirts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who still like hot weather, it is probably coming back.  It did reach 99 on September 1st.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anytime the air is free I am happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-4711296820693150950?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/4711296820693150950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=4711296820693150950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4711296820693150950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/4711296820693150950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2010/09/it-is-time-for-cool-change.html' title='It is time for a cool change'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-877999512389345617</id><published>2010-09-05T16:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T16:26:50.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Now that is what I call enter tainment</title><content type='html'>Well I thought I would finally get around to writing something down.  I have been away for a long time.  Since my absence I have a new addition.  Yes, one of the signs was plus.  My wife and I have a little girl.  She keeps me busy, but not as busy as she keeps my wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not been doing that much.  I do what I have been doing except updating my blog.  Well that and changing diapers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will try and be better about recording my events.  In 3D...duh duh duh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-877999512389345617?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/877999512389345617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=877999512389345617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/877999512389345617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/877999512389345617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2010/09/now-that-is-what-i-call-enter-tainment.html' title='Now that is what I call enter tainment'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-3184120249152869859</id><published>2010-05-17T17:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T17:30:09.867-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Makeup sects</title><content type='html'>I have seen a couple of stories of women, who happen to be famous for some reason, go without makeup.  Being a male, I do not know much about makeup.  I might have applied it years ago, but other than that not on a regular basis.  Wendy does not wear make up so I do not really see it on a regular basis.  I know a couple of people who sell makeup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that I do not understand is that famous people look so pale without the makeup.  I saw a few pics and the people were even whiter than normal.  So there are some people that look better with makeup.  Most of the time to me, I cannot tell when someone is wearing makeup.  That is probably the goal of makeup to make the person look better without looking like a makeup wearer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess there was really no point to this post except you have face your problems or you become a problem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-3184120249152869859?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/3184120249152869859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=3184120249152869859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3184120249152869859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/3184120249152869859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2010/05/makeup-sects.html' title='Makeup sects'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514782.post-8557797654085883632</id><published>2010-05-17T17:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T17:20:51.237-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Away for a day or three</title><content type='html'>Your freedom is over reader.  This weekend Wendy and I were visiting her parents.  Nothing big, just visiting family.  We did help Wendy's parents update their cell phones.  It was a pretty painless process.  They knew pretty much what they wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though there was access to the online world, I did not get online any during the weekend.  It looks like I did not miss anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I am back to making up my own news.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36514782-8557797654085883632?l=postagedue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/feeds/8557797654085883632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36514782&amp;postID=8557797654085883632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8557797654085883632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36514782/posts/default/8557797654085883632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postagedue.blogspot.com/2010/05/away-for-day-or-three.html' title='Away for a day or three'/><author><name>jdp</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07970220797847044432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3472/4081/1600/jon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
