<?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-9891698</id><updated>2011-07-28T13:11:40.665-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow^A^ngel's Place Of Learning</title><subtitle type='html'>Place of Divine Confusion, That is now aimed at learning something new each Day!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>56</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-113667456784279422</id><published>2006-01-07T16:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T16:57:10.260-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Behemoth</title><content type='html'>The Word of the Day for January 7 th&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;behemoth&lt;/span&gt; \bih-HEE-muth\  noun&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 often capitalized : a mighty animal described in Job 40:15-24 as an example of the power of God&lt;br /&gt;*2 : something of monstrous size, power, or appearance&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly a behemoth of a truck, honking madly and going at least 80 mph, bore down on me from out of the blue.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Did you know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The original "behemoth" was biblical; it designated a mysterious river-dwelling beast in the Book of Job. Based on that description, scholars have concluded that the biblical behemoth was probably inspired by a hippopotamus, but details about the creature's exact nature were vague. The word first passed from the Hebrew into Late Latin, where, according to English poet and monk John Lydgate, writing in 1430, it "playne expresse[d] a beast rude full of cursednesse." In English, "behemoth" was eventually applied more generally to anything large and powerful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-113667456784279422?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/113667456784279422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=113667456784279422' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/113667456784279422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/113667456784279422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2006/01/behemoth.html' title='Behemoth'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-113660218411973406</id><published>2006-01-06T20:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T20:54:59.633-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tin-pot</title><content type='html'>The Word of the Day for January 06 is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tin-pot &lt;/strong&gt;\TIN-POT\ &lt;em&gt;adjective&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;: two-bit, small-time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence: &lt;/strong&gt;Petty despots and tin-pot dictators often pay lip service to democratic ideals to give their regimes an aura of legitimacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know? &lt;/strong&gt;Tin has never commanded as much respect as some other metals. As a reflection of this, its name has long been used in terms denoting the tawdry or petty. "Tin-pot" has been used for minor or insignificant things or people since the early 1800s. "Tinhorn" has named fakes or frauds (especially gamblers) since the 1880s, and "tin lizzie" has been a nickname for an inexpensive car since Ford introduced the Model T. Another example is "tin pan" (as in "Tin Pan Alley"), which referred to the tinny sound of pianos pounded furiously by musicians plugging tunes to producers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-113660218411973406?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/113660218411973406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=113660218411973406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/113660218411973406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/113660218411973406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2006/01/tin-pot.html' title='Tin-pot'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-113651009168375303</id><published>2006-01-05T19:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-05T19:16:52.903-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Emeritus</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Emeritus &lt;/strong&gt;\ih-MEH-ruh-tus\ &lt;em&gt;adjective&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;: retired with an honorary title from an office or position &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence: &lt;/strong&gt;Although he is retiring from the newspaper, Mr. Richardson will remain as editor emeritus, and his name will still appear on the masthead.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know? &lt;/strong&gt;In Latin, "emeritus" was used to describe soldiers who had completed their duty. It is the past participle of the verb "emereri," meaning "to serve out one's term," from the prefix "e-" (meaning "out") and "merēre" ("to earn, deserve, or serve"). ("Merēre" also gives us our English word "merit.") Beginning in the late 18th century, English speakers began using "emeritus" as an adjective to refer to professors who had retired from office. The word eventually became applied to other professions where a retired member may continue to hold a title in an honorary capacity. In many titles, "emeritus" is used postpositively, which means that it comes after the noun it modifies instead of before it, as in our example sentence.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-113651009168375303?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/113651009168375303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=113651009168375303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/113651009168375303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/113651009168375303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2006/01/emeritus.html' title='Emeritus'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111876397598135774</id><published>2005-06-14T10:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-14T10:46:15.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Woebegone</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Jun 14 is:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;woebegone&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \WOH-bih-gahn\ adjective &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 : strongly afflicted with woe : woeful &lt;br /&gt;*2 : exhibiting great woe, sorrow, or misery &lt;br /&gt;3 : being in a sorry state &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jerry's face had the woebegone expression of a man who had just lost a beloved pet. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first glance, "woebegone" looks like a word that has its meaning backwards; after all, if "begone" means "go away," shouldn't "woebegone" mean "devoid of woe," or "happy"? Not exactly. The word derives from the Middle English phrase "wo begon." The "wo" in this phrase simply means "woe," but "begon" (deriving from Old English "begān") is a past participle meaning "beset." Someone who is "woebegone," therefore, is literally beset with woe. Since the early 19th century, the word has also been used to describe things that appear to express sadness, as in "a woebegone face."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111876397598135774?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111876397598135774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111876397598135774' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111876397598135774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111876397598135774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/06/woebegone.html' title='Woebegone'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111867649101472997</id><published>2005-06-13T10:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T10:28:11.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Allege</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Jun 13 is:  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;allege&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \uh-LEJ\ verb &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*1 : to assert without proof or before proving &lt;br /&gt;2 : to bring forward as a reason or excuse &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several employees alleged that the company had engaged in discriminatory practices, and claimed to have evidence to support their allegations. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days, someone "alleges" something before presenting the evidence to prove it (or perhaps without evidence at all), but the word actually derives from the Middle English verb "alleggen," meaning "to submit (something) in evidence or as justification." "Alleggen," in turn, traces back to Anglo-French and probably ultimately to Latin "allegare," meaning "to send as a representative" or "to offer as proof in support of a plea." Indeed, "allege" once referred to the actions of someone who came forward to testify in court; this sense isn't used anymore, but it led to the development of the current "assert without proof" sense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111867649101472997?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111867649101472997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111867649101472997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111867649101472997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111867649101472997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/06/allege.html' title='Allege'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111860169275853110</id><published>2005-06-12T13:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T13:41:32.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Epigram</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; The Word of the Day for Jun 12 is:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;epigram&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; \EP-ih-gram\ noun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 : a concise poem dealing pointedly and often satirically with a single thought or event and often ending with an ingenious turn of thought&lt;br /&gt;*2 : a terse, sage, or witty and often paradoxical saying&lt;br /&gt;3 : epigrammatic expression&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever the master of insightful epigram, Oscar Wilde once observed: "In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Did you know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ancient Greeks and Romans used the word "epigramma" (from Greek "epigraphein," meaning "to write on") to refer to a concise, witty, and often satirical verse. The Roman poet Martial (who published eleven books of these "epigrammata," or epigrams, between the years 86 and 98 AD) was a master of the form: "You puff the poets of other days, / the living you deplore. / Spare me the accolade: your praise / Is not worth dying for." English speakers adopted the "verse" sense of the word when we first used "epigram" in the 15th century. In the late 18th century, we began using "epigram" for concise, witty sayings, even if they didn't rhyme.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111860169275853110?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111860169275853110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111860169275853110' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111860169275853110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111860169275853110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/06/epigram.html' title='Epigram'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111851101419591347</id><published>2005-06-11T12:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-11T12:30:14.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Scion</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Jun 11 is: &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;scion&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \SYE-un\ noun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 : a detached living portion of a plant (as a bud or shoot) joined to a stock in grafting and usually supplying solely aerial parts to a graft &lt;br /&gt;*2 : descendant, child; especially : a descendant of a wealthy, aristocratic, or influential family &lt;br /&gt;3 : heir &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scion of a family of legendary actors, Fiona was well groomed for her own show business career. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Scion" derives from the Middle English "sioun" and Old French "cion," and is related to the Old English "cīth" and the Old High German "kīdi" ("sprout" or "shoot"). When it first sprouted in English in the 13th century, "scion" meant "a shoot or twig." That sense withered in horticultural contexts, but the word branched out, adding the grafting-related meaning we know today. The figurative sense, "descendant," blossomed in the 19th century, with particular reference to those who were descendants of notable families.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111851101419591347?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111851101419591347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111851101419591347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111851101419591347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111851101419591347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/06/scion.html' title='Scion'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111840955838706806</id><published>2005-06-10T08:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-10T08:19:18.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quincunx</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Jun 10 is:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;quincunx&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; \KWIN-kunks\ noun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: an arrangement of five things in a square or rectangle with one at each corner and one in the middle &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tables were arranged in a quincunx, with the hosting family at the center table and guests at the four corner tables. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In ancient Rome a "quincunx" was a coin whose name comes from the Latin roots "quinque," meaning "five," and "uncia," meaning "one twelfth." The weight of the coin equaled five twelfths of a "libra," a unit of weight similar to today's pound. The ancients used a pattern of five dots arranged like the spots on dice as a symbol for the coin, and English speakers applied the word to arrangements similar to that distinctive five-dot mark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111840955838706806?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111840955838706806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111840955838706806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111840955838706806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111840955838706806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/06/quincunx.html' title='Quincunx'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111832358142736719</id><published>2005-06-09T08:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-09T08:26:21.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Emigrate</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Jun 09 is: &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;emigrate&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \EM-uh-grayt\ verb &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: to leave one's place of residence or country to live elsewhere &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.E. Rolvaag emigrated from Norway to the U.S. in 1896 and subsequently wrote Giants in the Earth and other books about Norwegians who settled in the American prairies. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Migrate," "emigrate," and "immigrate" are all about being on the move. All those terms come from the Latin word "migrare," which means "to move from one place to another." "Emigrate" and "immigrate" sound alike, and it is true that both involve leaving one location and entering another. The subtle difference between them lies in point of view: "emigrate" stresses leaving the original place, while "immigrate" focuses on entering the new one. You won't have trouble keeping them straight if you remember that the prefix "e-" means "away," as in "eject," and the prefix "im-" or "in-" means "into," as in "inject."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111832358142736719?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111832358142736719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111832358142736719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111832358142736719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111832358142736719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/06/emigrate.html' title='Emigrate'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111824599428897400</id><published>2005-06-08T10:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-08T10:53:14.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Talisman</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Jun 08 is: &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;talisman&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \TAL-iss-mun\ noun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*1 : an object held to act as a charm to avert evil and bring good fortune &lt;br /&gt;2 : something producing apparently magical or miraculous effects &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the pop quiz was announced, Sam reached for his lucky penny, hoping the talisman would bring him success. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in lucky charms? Language reflects the fact that many people do. We might have borrowed "talisman" from French, Spanish, or Italian; all three include similar-looking words for a lucky charm. Those three terms derive from a single Arabic word for a charm, "tilsam." "Tilsam" in turn can be traced to the ancient Greek verb "talein," which means "to initiate into the mysteries."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111824599428897400?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111824599428897400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111824599428897400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111824599428897400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111824599428897400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/06/talisman.html' title='Talisman'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111686476418458295</id><published>2005-05-23T11:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T11:12:44.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aperçu</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for May 23 is: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;aperçu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \ap-er-SOO\ noun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 : a brief survey or sketch : outline &lt;br /&gt;*2 : an immediate impression; especially : insight &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He holds the reader's attention with his artful essays woven with entertaining anecdotes and wry aperçus. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In French, "aperçu" is the past participle of the verb "apercevoir" ("to perceive" or "to comprehend"), which in turn comes from Latin "percipere" ("to perceive"). It is also a noun meaning "insight," "judgment," or "quick survey." English speakers borrowed the noun "aperçu," meaning and all, in the early 19th century. And though it has a literary tone, and is mostly used in writing, we put it to good use: "Cybercafés have sprung up in Paris.... For Netties on holiday, they offer an opportunity to log on as well as an aperçu of French techno-life" (Catharine Reynolds, Gourmet, April 1997). "Apercevoir" is also an ancestor of two other English words: "apperceive," meaning "to have consciousness of oneself," and "apperception," meaning "introspective self-consciousness" or "mental perception."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111686476418458295?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111686476418458295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111686476418458295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111686476418458295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111686476418458295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/05/aperu.html' title='Aperçu'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111677678737290168</id><published>2005-05-22T10:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-22T10:46:27.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Exacerbate</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for May 22 is:  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;exacerbate&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \ig-ZASS-er-bayt\ verb &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: to make more violent, bitter, or severe &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nasty rash caused Jenna's arm to itch all over, and the doctor said that scratching it would only exacerbate the problem. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make it a point to know that the Latin adjective "acer," meaning "sharp," forms the basis of a number of words that have come into English. The words "acerbic" ("having a bitter temper or sour mood"), "acrid" ("having a sharp taste or odor"), and "acrimony" ("a harsh manner or disposition") are just the tip of the iceberg. First appearing in English in the 17th century, "exacerbate" derives from the prefix "ex-," which means "out of" or "outside," and "acerbus," which means "harsh" or "bitter" and comes from "acer." Just as pouring salt in a wound worsens pain, things that exacerbate can cause a situation to go from bad to worse. A pointed insult, for example, might exacerbate tensions between two rivals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111677678737290168?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111677678737290168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111677678737290168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111677678737290168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111677678737290168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/05/exacerbate.html' title='Exacerbate'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111668028507250925</id><published>2005-05-21T07:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-21T07:58:05.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Soiree</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for May 21 is: &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;soiree&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \swah-RAY\ noun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: a party or reception held in the evening &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The soiree would scarcely break up before two; and by this hour the vehicle was to be at the door, when, in the confusion occasioned by the departure of the company, Madame L. could easily enter it unobserved." (Edgar Allan Poe, "The Spectacles") &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In French, "soirée" means "evening party," or simply "evening." The French word comes from the Latin adverb "sero" (meaning "at a late hour"), which comes from the Latin adjective "serus" (meaning "late"). English speakers began using "soiree" early in the 19th century, and, later in the century, some began to use the word as a verb meaning "to entertain at an evening party." The verb use of the word never became firmly established, but the sophisticated noun "soiree" remains a popular alternative to the comparatively prosaic "party."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111668028507250925?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111668028507250925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111668028507250925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111668028507250925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111668028507250925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/05/soiree.html' title='Soiree'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111503431052932072</id><published>2005-05-02T06:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-02T06:45:10.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Troglodyte</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for May 02 is:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;troglodyte&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \TRAHG-luh-dyte\ noun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 : a member of any of various peoples (as in antiquity) who lived or were reputed to live chiefly in caves &lt;br /&gt;*2 : a person characterized by reclusive habits or outmoded or reactionary attitudes &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eva regarded her parents as troglodytes because of their dislike for modern music. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peer into the etymological cave of "troglodyte" and you'll find a "trōglē." But don't be afraid. "Trōglē" may sound like a scary cave-dwelling ogre, but it's actually just a perfectly unintimidating Greek root that means "hole" or "cave." Is "troglodyte" the only English word to have descended from "trōglē"? Not exactly. "Troglodyte" and its related adjective "troglodytic" (meaning "of, related to, or being a troglodyte") are the only "trōglē" offspring that are widely used in general English contexts, but another "trōglē" progeny, the prefix "troglo-," meaning "cave-dwelling," is used in scientific contexts to form words like "troglobiont" ("an animal living in or restricted to caves").&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111503431052932072?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111503431052932072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111503431052932072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111503431052932072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111503431052932072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/05/troglodyte.html' title='Troglodyte'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111451707692527518</id><published>2005-04-26T07:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-26T07:04:36.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mufti</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 26 is: &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mufti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \MUFF-tee\ noun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: ordinary dress as distinguished from that denoting an occupation or station; especially : civilian clothes when worn by a person in the armed forces &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maureen's family is thankful to have her at home, dressed comfortably in mufti, after a six-month tour of duty overseas. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Islamic tradition, a mufti is a professional jurist who interprets Muslim law. When religious muftis were portrayed on the English stage in the early 19th century, they typically wore costumes that included a dressing gown and a tasseled smoking cap, an outfit that some felt resembled the clothing preferred by the off-duty military officers of the day. The clothing sense of "mufti," which first appeared in English around that same time, is thought to have developed out of this association of stage costume and civilian clothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111451707692527518?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111451707692527518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111451707692527518' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111451707692527518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111451707692527518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/mufti.html' title='Mufti'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111443046061739015</id><published>2005-04-25T06:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T07:01:00.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pristine</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 25 is:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pristine&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \PRISS-teen\ adjective &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*1 : belonging to the earliest period or state : original&lt;br /&gt;2 a : not spoiled, corrupted, or polluted (as by civilization) : pure b : fresh and clean as or as if new &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Our friend... had lost a great deal of his pristine timidity, and was now, especially when fortified with liquor, as talkative as might be." (William Makepeace Thackeray, Vanity Fair) &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When "pristine" was anglicized in the 16th century, people borrowed the meanings of "early" and "original" from the Latin "pristinus" and applied them to what is desirable as well as to what is not. But it has long been a tendency of civilized people to admire a simpler and unsullied past. The supposition is that when things were in their oldest or original state, they were better. Thus, "pristine" was extended to describe the notion of an unspoiled, uncorrupted, or unpolluted state. And what is unspoiled or uncontaminated may connote the freshness and cleanness of something that has just been made, which explains how "pristine" has also come to mean "fresh and clean."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111443046061739015?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111443046061739015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111443046061739015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111443046061739015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111443046061739015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/pristine.html' title='Pristine'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111435029932352627</id><published>2005-04-24T08:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-24T08:44:59.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>welter</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for April 24 is: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;welter&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; • \WEL-ter\  • verb &lt;br /&gt;1 a : writhe, toss; also : wallow *b : to rise and fall or toss about in or with waves&lt;br /&gt;2 : to become deeply sunk, soaked, or involved&lt;br /&gt;3 : to be in turmoil &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ship tossed and weltered upon the waves in the ocean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Welter" can be used both as a noun (meaning "turmoil" or "chaos") and a verb. Which part of speech is older? The verb. It has been part of English since at least the 1300s, while the earliest uses of the noun date from the late 1590s. Both noun and verb have roots related to Dutch and Germanic terms meaning "to roll," and both have found a place in English literature. The verb helps demonstrate extreme despair in the early Arthurian legend Morte Arthure ("He welterys, he wristeles, he wrynges hys handes!"), and in 1837 Thomas Carlyle used the noun in The French Revolution ("I leave the whole business in a frightful welter: . . . not one of them understands anything of government").&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111435029932352627?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111435029932352627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111435029932352627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111435029932352627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111435029932352627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/welter.html' title='welter'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111418763570008989</id><published>2005-04-22T11:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-22T11:33:55.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Callithump</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for April 22 is: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;callithump&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; • \KAL-uh-thump\  • noun &lt;br /&gt;: a noisy boisterous band or parade &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The town is trying to enlist one of Hollywood's most famous leading men to serve as grand marshal for this year's Memorial Day callithump. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Callithump" and the related adjective "callithumpian" are Americanisms, but their roots stretch back to England. In the 19th century, the noun "callithumpian" was used in the U.S. of boisterous roisterers who had their own makeshift New Year's parade. Their band instruments consisted of crude noisemakers such as pots, tin horns and cowbells. The antecedent of "callithumpians" is an 18th-century British dialect term for another noisy group, the "Gallithumpians," who made a rumpus on election days in southern England. Today, the words "callithump" and "callithumpian" see occasional use, especially in the names of specific bands and parades. The callithumpian bands and parades of today are more organized than those of the past, but they retain an association with noise and boisterous fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111418763570008989?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111418763570008989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111418763570008989' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111418763570008989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111418763570008989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/callithump.html' title='Callithump'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111408629685398076</id><published>2005-04-21T07:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T07:24:56.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gargantuan</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 21 is:  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gargantuan&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \gar-GAN-shuh-wun\ adjective &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: tremendous in size, volume, or degree : gigantic, colossal &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The town's wealthiest family lived in a gargantuan mansion at the top of the hill, complete with twelve bedrooms, two swimming pools and a tennis court. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gargantua" is the name of a giant king in François Rabelais's 16th-century satiric novel Gargantua. All of the details of Gargantua's life befit a giant. He rides a colossal mare whose tail switches so violently that it fells the entire forest of Orleans. He has an enormous appetite  in one memorable incident, he inadvertently swallows five pilgrims while eating a salad. The scale of everything connected with Gargantua gave rise to the adjective "gargantuan," which since Shakespeare's time has been used of anything of tremendous size or volume.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111408629685398076?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111408629685398076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111408629685398076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111408629685398076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111408629685398076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/gargantuan.html' title='Gargantuan'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111400015505203272</id><published>2005-04-20T07:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T07:30:31.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>interlocutor</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 20 is: &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;interlocutor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \in-ter-LAH-kyuh-ter\ noun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*1 : one who takes part in dialogue or conversation &lt;br /&gt;2 : a man in the middle of the line in a minstrel show who questions the end men and acts as leader &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve's aggressive insistence on the correctness of his own opinions frequently made his interlocutors uncomfortable. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Interlocutor" derives from the Latin "interloqui," meaning "to speak between" or "to issue an interlocutory decree." (An interlocutory decree is a court judgment that comes in the middle of a case and is not decisive.) "Interloqui," in turn, ultimately comes from the words "inter-," "between," and "loqui," "to speak." Some other words that English borrowed from "loqui" are "loquacious" ("talkative"), "circumlocution" (essentially, "talking around a subject"), "ventriloquism" ("talking in such a way that one's voice seems to come from someone or something else"), "eloquent" ("capable of fluent or vivid speech"), and "grandiloquence" ("extravagant or pompous speech").&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111400015505203272?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111400015505203272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111400015505203272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111400015505203272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111400015505203272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/interlocutor.html' title='interlocutor'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111339347200814203</id><published>2005-04-13T06:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T06:57:52.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ken</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 13 is:&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ken&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \KEN\ noun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 a : the range of vision b : sight, view *2 : the range of perception, understanding, or knowledge &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The author advised the aspiring writers in the crowd to develop an authoritative voice by sticking to subjects within their ken. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ken" appeared on the English horizon in the 16th century as a term of measurement of the distance bounding the range of ordinary vision at sea  about 20 miles. British author John Lyly used that sense in 1580 when he wrote, "They are safely come within a ken of Dover." Other 16th century writers used "ken" to mean "range of vision" ("Out of ken we were ere the Countesse came from the feast."  Thomas Nashe) or "sight" ("'Tis double death to drown in ken of shore."  Shakespeare). Today, however, "ken" rarely suggests literal sight. Rather, "ken" nowadays almost always implies a range of comprehension, understanding, or knowledge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111339347200814203?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111339347200814203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111339347200814203' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111339347200814203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111339347200814203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/ken.html' title='Ken'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111326368195544883</id><published>2005-04-11T18:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-11T18:54:41.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Decry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 11 is:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;decry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; \dih-KRYE\ verb &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 : to depreciate (as a coin) officially or publicly &lt;br /&gt;*2 : to express strong disapproval of &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandmother decried the laziness and disobedience that she insisted was becoming the norm among young people today. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Did you know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Decry," "depreciate," "disparage," and "belittle" all mean "to express a low opinion of something," but there are also some subtle differences in their use. "Decry," which is a descendant of the Old French verb "crier," meaning "to cry," implies open condemnation with intent to discredit ("he decried her defeatist attitude"). "Depreciate" implies that something is being represented as having less value than commonly believed ("critics depreciated his plays for being unabashedly sentimental"). "Disparage" implies depreciation by indirect means, such as slighting or harmful comparison ("she disparaged polo as a game for the rich"). "Belittle" usually suggests a contemptuous or envious attitude ("he belittled the achievements of others").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111326368195544883?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111326368195544883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111326368195544883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111326368195544883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111326368195544883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/decry.html' title='Decry'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111314344529325151</id><published>2005-04-10T09:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T09:30:45.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sylph</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 10 is: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sylph&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \SILF\ noun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 : an elemental being in the theory of Paracelsus that inhabits air &lt;br /&gt;*2 : a slender graceful woman or girl &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dancer was a graceful, elegant sylph upon the stage. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paracelsus was a man with a vivid imagination. He concocted an elaborate theory of ruling "elemental spirits": gnomes controlled the earth, salamanders fire, undines water, and sylphs (graceful beings whose name in English is from New Latin "sylphus") the air. You would hardly believe this 16th-century German-Swiss physician had his feet on the ground, but those fantastic ideas were balanced with an impressive array of solid medical discoveries. In fact, many of his scientific contributions are still highly respected, but his sylph idea has long since been discounted as fairy-tale fantasy. The creatures remain only as romantic figures of literature, art, and ballet, where diaphanous woodland sylphs are often depicted enchanting unwary males&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111314344529325151?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111314344529325151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111314344529325151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111314344529325151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111314344529325151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/sylph.html' title='Sylph'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111305977825907543</id><published>2005-04-09T10:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-09T10:16:18.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Vermicular</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 09 is: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;vermicular&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \ver-MIK-yuh-ler\ adjective &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 *a : resembling a worm in form or motion b : marked with irregular fine lines or with wavy impressed lines &lt;br /&gt;2 : of, relating to, or caused by worms &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"[The painting] 'Evening' shows what was likely a meandering stream that in Criss's treatment is less vermicular than just plain geometric." (Susan Lindt, Intelligencer Journal [Lancaster, PA], July 3, 2003) &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does the word "vermicular" have in common with the pasta on your plate? If you're eating vermicelli (a spaghetti-like pasta made in long thin strings) the answer is "vermis," a Latin noun meaning "worm." If you dig deep enough, you'll find that "vermis" is the root underlying not only "vermicular" and "vermicelli," but also "vermiculate" (which can mean either "full of worms" or "tortuous") and even "worm" itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111305977825907543?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111305977825907543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111305977825907543' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111305977825907543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111305977825907543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/vermicular.html' title='Vermicular'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111296438107305083</id><published>2005-04-08T07:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-08T07:46:21.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bloviate</title><content type='html'>The Word of the Day for Apr 08 is:  &lt;br /&gt;bloviate \BLOH-vee-ayt\ verb &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: to speak or write verbosely and windily &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;Example sentence:&lt;br /&gt;Maggie liked to turn on the news and watch the media pundits bloviate about the top issues of the day. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Did you know?&lt;br /&gt;Warren G. Harding is often linked to "bloviate," but to him the word wasn't insulting; it simply meant "to spend time idly." Harding used the word often in that "hanging around" sense, but during his tenure as the 29th U.S. President (1921-23), he became associated with the "verbose" sense of "bloviate," perhaps because his speeches tended to the long-winded side. Although he is sometimes credited with having coined the word, it's more likely that Harding picked it up from local slang while hanging around with his boyhood buddies in Ohio in the late 1800s. The term probably derives from a combination of the word "blow" plus the suffix "-ate."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111296438107305083?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111296438107305083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111296438107305083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111296438107305083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111296438107305083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/bloviate_08.html' title='bloviate'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111293384165912080</id><published>2005-04-07T23:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-07T23:17:21.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>zeroth</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 07 is:  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;zeroth&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \ZEE-roath\ adjective &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: being numbered zero in a series; also : of, relating to, or being a zero &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Science fiction writer Isaac Asimov's Zeroth Law for robots  "A robot may not harm humanity"  supersedes his First Law disallowing a robot to harm an individual human being. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to be a rocket scientist to use "zeroth," but the word, which was coined by physicists over a hundred years ago, does often show up in scientific contexts. (It comes from "zero," which is itself from Arabic "ifr.") These days "zeroth" is frequently used, as in our example sentence, to suggest a level of importance that is even higher than first. Renowned Soviet physicist Lev Landau used "zeroth" this way when he classified all the famous physicists according to the relative value of their contributions to science. He put Niels Bohr and Max Planck, for example, right up there in the first class, and lesser-rated physicists in the second through fifth classes. Where did he think Albert Einstein and Isaac Newton belonged? They were unmatched, he felt, so they went in his zeroth class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111293384165912080?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111293384165912080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111293384165912080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111293384165912080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111293384165912080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/zeroth.html' title='zeroth'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111283043030759337</id><published>2005-04-06T18:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T18:33:50.310-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aborning</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 06 is:&lt;/strong&gt;   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;aborning&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; \uh-BOR-ning\ adverb &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: while being born or produced &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Similar proposals in 1999 and 2001 died aborning in Congress, but in May the Judiciary Committee passed this bill on to the Senate floor...." (Editor &amp; Publisher, July 14, 2003) &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aborning" is a native of U.S. soil; its arrival is marked in the early 20th century dialect of the rural South, and it quickly found its way to the crowded cities and towns of the industrial north. (We don't know exactly when it was conceived, but it came to the attention of the editors at Merriam-Webster in 1916.) "Aborning" combines the prefix "a-," meaning "in the process of," and "borning," a dialectal word meaning "birth." "Borning" itself is simply the gerund, or noun form, of the verb "born," a dialectal term that was used by, among others, William Faulkner: "The talk... went here and there about the town, dying and borning again like a wind or a fire." (Light in August, 1932)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111283043030759337?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111283043030759337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111283043030759337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111283043030759337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111283043030759337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/aborning.html' title='Aborning'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111261794050876343</id><published>2005-04-04T07:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-04T07:32:20.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>undergird</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 04 is: &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;undergird&lt;/strong&gt; \un-der-GURD\ verb &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: to form the basis or foundation of : strengthen, support &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Example sentence:&lt;br /&gt;The mayor cited examples of the fire department's inefficiency to undergird his request for a new fire station. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Did you know?&lt;br /&gt;The English verb "gird" means, among other things, "to encircle or bind with a flexible band." When "undergird" first entered English in the 16th century it meant "to make secure underneath," as by passing a rope or chain underneath something (such as a ship). That literal sense has long since fallen out of use, but in the 19th century "undergird" picked up the figurative "strengthen" or "support" sense that we still use. "Gird" and consequently "undergird" both derive from the Old English "geard," meaning "enclosure" or "yard." "Gird" also gives us "girder," a noun referring to a horizontal piece supporting a structure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111261794050876343?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111261794050876343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111261794050876343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111261794050876343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111261794050876343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/undergird.html' title='undergird'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111244933248281789</id><published>2005-04-02T07:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T07:42:12.483-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Factiod</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 02 is: &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;factoid \FAK-toyd\ noun &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 : an invented fact believed to be true because of its appearance in print &lt;br /&gt;*2 : a briefly stated and usually trivial fact &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show consists of entertainment news interspersed with video factoids about Hollywood stars. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can thank Norman Mailer for the word "factoid"; he coined the term in his 1973 book Marilyn, about Marilyn Monroe. In the book, Mailer explains that factoids are "facts which have no existence before appearing in a magazine or newspaper, creations which are not so much lies as a product to manipulate emotion in the Silent Majority." In creating his coinage, Mailer relied on "-oid," a suffix that traces back to the ancient Greek word "eidos," meaning "appearance" or "form." Mailer followed in a long tradition when he chose "-oid"; English speakers have been making words from "-oid" since at least the 17th century.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111244933248281789?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111244933248281789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111244933248281789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111244933248281789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111244933248281789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/factiod.html' title='Factiod'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111236073396546772</id><published>2005-04-01T07:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-01T07:05:33.966-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Word of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Apr 01 is:&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;sophomoric \sahf-MOR-ik\ adjective &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*1 : conceited and overconfident of knowledge but poorly informed and immature &lt;br /&gt;2 : of, relating to, or characteristic of a sophomore &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The class presentations were surprisingly thorough and interestingnot at all the sophomoric commentaries I had expected. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophomores get a bad rap. A lot of people seem to think they're foolish (no matter what they do), when they know they're pretty wise. The history of the words "sophomore" and "sophomoric," which developed from "sophomore," proves that it has always been tough to be a sophomore. Those words are believed to come from a combination of the Greek terms "sophos" (meaning "wise") and "mōros" (meaning "foolish"). But sophomores can take comfort in the fact that some very impressive words, including "philosopher" and "sophisticated," are also related to "sophos."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111236073396546772?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111236073396546772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111236073396546772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111236073396546772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111236073396546772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/04/word-of-day.html' title='Word of the Day'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111230146399986825</id><published>2005-03-31T14:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-31T14:37:44.000-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Word of the Day</title><content type='html'>The Word of the Day for Mar 31 is:  &lt;br /&gt;contiguous \kun-TIG-yuh-wus\ adjective &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: being in contact : touching; also : next, adjoining &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;Example sentence:&lt;br /&gt;The new airline will fly to all of the 48 contiguous states in the United States, but it will not have any flights to Alaska or Hawaii. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Did you know?&lt;br /&gt;You probably aren't surprised to learn that the word "contact" is a relative of "contiguous," but would you believe that "contagion" and "contingent" are too? All of those words derive from the Latin "contingere," meaning "to have contact with." The words "contact" and "contiguous" are fairly easy to connect with "contingere," but what of the other two? In its early days in English, "contingent" was used as a synonym of "touching," and if you remember that touching something can pollute it (and that another meaning of "contingere" was "to pollute"), "contagion" logically ties in too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111230146399986825?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111230146399986825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111230146399986825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111230146399986825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111230146399986825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/03/word-of-day.html' title='Word of the Day'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111219451134441114</id><published>2005-03-30T08:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-30T09:02:02.313-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Think I Figured it Out</title><content type='html'>I know what I'm going to use this for now. Some know of my quest for knowledge, I recently signed up to receive a word of the day from Merriam-Webster. Though I find fault in just reading the email and logging what was read in the reserves of my head. So why not post each one in turn sharing it with others? If you have an answer for that don't....please.... So with out further delay I give you the Word of the Day, by Merriam-Webster's standards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Word of the Day for Mar 30 is:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;emolument \ih-MAHL-yuh-munt\ noun : the returns arising from office or employment usually in the form of compensation or perquisites&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/cgi-bin/audio.pl?emolum01.wav=emolument" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example sentence: &lt;/strong&gt;"Unlike some of his counterparts... in other cities, he is not paid by the team, and, indeed, has refused any emolument for his work." (Roger Angell, The New Yorker, November 28, 1983)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To Sir Thomas Williams Person of the Parish... of Saint Andrew at Baynards Castle in London for his yearly pension 40 shillings... in recompense of certain offerings, oblations, and emoluments unto the said benefice due...." Thus was recorded in "The Wardrobe Accounts of Edward the Fourth," along with every expense of the realm, the first ever known use of "emolument." By the year 1480, when that entry was made, Latin "emolumentum" had come to mean simply "profit" or "gain." It had thus become removed from its own Latin predecessor, the verb "molere," meaning "to grind." The original connection between the noun and this verb was its reference to the profit or gain from grinding another's grain. (The notion of grinding away at our jobs didn't show up in our language until the 1800s.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111219451134441114?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111219451134441114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111219451134441114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111219451134441114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111219451134441114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/03/think-i-figured-it-out.html' title='Think I Figured it Out'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-111112431762905402</id><published>2005-03-17T23:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T23:38:37.630-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Past</title><content type='html'>Well I know I quit posting here as I felt things were compromised. I started posting in a new spot, thought it'd be safe. Though for some odd reason I never deleted this one. I'm trying to think of a way to put to use the different spots I have acquired. I feel it's been such a waste on not using this thing, but I can't bare to delete it. So with further thought and maybe with a few searches I can find a use for this place. Maybe more insightful deeper things are to come of this one. As my new one seems to try and keep a light air. We'll have to see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-111112431762905402?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/111112431762905402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=111112431762905402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111112431762905402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/111112431762905402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/03/time-past.html' title='Time Past'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110688406890219587</id><published>2005-01-27T21:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T21:47:48.903-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost it's Flare</title><content type='html'>Due to current events, I feel my thoughts and happenings are hazardous. Until further notice I will refrain from posting. Thank you for your time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110688406890219587?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110688406890219587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110688406890219587' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110688406890219587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110688406890219587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/lost-its-flare.html' title='Lost it&apos;s Flare'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110675764883100226</id><published>2005-01-26T10:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-26T10:40:48.833-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Odd Dream</title><content type='html'>The dream started with my arriving at a friend's house. One I haven't got to speak to in years. She was having a get together, and she comes up as I start to get the children out of the car. I smile and wave, She's shaking her head "no" and when she gets within range she asks me to leave. I am struck with confusion, and try hard to figure out what I've done wrong. I get back in the car and the sence shifts to a work shop. I'm looking for dice and Jesse comes in.....kay being as I haven't spoke to him in a long while I just look at him stupidly. He asks me if I needed any help, and I snap out of whatever trance I was in and tell him "I'm just looking for dice" He calls for Pam to come in an help look for the dice and she gives me the most evil glare. I take a few steps back as if I was struck. When she has her back to us Jesse gives me a hug and asks if there's anything he can do for me, it made me very uncomfortable, and I pulled myself from the dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It left me uneasy......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110675764883100226?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110675764883100226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110675764883100226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110675764883100226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110675764883100226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/odd-dream.html' title='Odd Dream'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110662950910684204</id><published>2005-01-24T22:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-24T23:05:09.106-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I might be killed for this one</title><content type='html'>Right well seeing as a good friend needed a bit of a boost, something came to me suddenly. I remembered family ties. Though I'm unsure if the tie in this case can lead to good things or not. As for one that believes in dreams coming true I couldn't let a friend cave on his. Takes a lot of time and patients, up and downs.....It all wears on ones nerves. But as long as ya hang in there and do your best and never give up on it, to hold the world in your hands is possible. Oh yeah I was talking about ties. Any way I really don't know why I didn't think of it sooner, but Meldon's(Here's where it might be complicated) Cousin Steve works as a director for the Babe Winkleman shows. I think ya's might see where this is leading. If not I'll explain, for those of you that are clueless to the world of sport fishing and hunting Babe Winkleman is like the guru here's the site. (Hmm I wonder if I get any commissions for advert? hehe) &lt;a href="http://www.winkelman.com/"&gt;http://www.winkelman.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do hope the lead I gave will help him, though cause I know I can't promise anything, and I don't know if mentioning me would be a good thing or not, being how I left Meldon and all. Oh and if any one needs someone in music production I have a cousin studying in Duluth that plays a mean piano, I have another from Warroad studying in the music field as well I'll have to ask mom what his field is again cause I forgot and haven't talked to him in forever.  Also have a cousin down in Maplewood that is into acting and singing, her sister took up the flute after I did cause she wanted to be like me. Now I start thinking how we all grew up and barely contact each other any more.  Sad really. I have a lot of cousins, there's three on my father's side, and ten on my mother's that I know of. Couldn't say what is going on with the pack up in Alaska. I guess as long as they are all living out their dreams it's a good thing. One cousin a second lieutenant, one in the marines, and I think the rest are too young yet to be moving on to careers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that I feel it's time to drift off to bed........Tootles sweets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110662950910684204?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110662950910684204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110662950910684204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110662950910684204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110662950910684204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-might-be-killed-for-this-one.html' title='I might be killed for this one'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110646396883252439</id><published>2005-01-23T01:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-23T01:06:08.833-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Redirection </title><content type='html'>So I've not completely figured this place out yet and have no clue how to insert a cut, though I'm thinking now the images just use html so I could have put them here..........sigh I need to think things through a bit more.....Any way I'm going to have ya shuffle back over to Live Journal for tonight so ya may see what the heck I was rambling about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for those of ya that forgot where that was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/1_freebutterfly/"&gt;http://www.livejournal.com/users/1_freebutterfly/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110646396883252439?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110646396883252439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110646396883252439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110646396883252439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110646396883252439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/redirection.html' title='Redirection '/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110637593523940950</id><published>2005-01-22T01:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-22T00:38:55.240-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Unexpected Call</title><content type='html'>Okay so I wrote this once and lost it, I don't think I'll spend as much time on it this time around though. There's this guy I know that's a friend, we only ever talk(not that ya can call it that) when we catch each other out for an evening, half drunk or down right piss drunk. We exchanged numbers way back when but never used them. We usually tease each other about dancing with one another, cause we haven't in a long time, and calling each other cause we don't. It was a surprise to hear from him, and I called back.........but......... got his voice mail. I was surprised again when he called back after that. We had pleasant exchange, he's planning on giving me a call tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think, just maybe.....That tomorrow might be weather permitting to go sledding with the kids. Corey if ya read this give me a jingle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110637593523940950?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110637593523940950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110637593523940950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110637593523940950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110637593523940950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/unexpected-call.html' title='Unexpected Call'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110628936739457427</id><published>2005-01-21T01:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T00:36:07.393-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>Well, it's just crossed over to next day, no need to wonder why I'm tired. Spent the evening mostly painting and drawing. Though any painting looks like something my kids would do, just on paper in stead of my carpet.(Make note to self, rug doctor)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a thought earlier that tickled me. With it being tax season, Meldon will file a tax return to the federal government and to the state government. With there being a claim for child support out on him they can with hold his state taxes for one, secondly they can locate where he is working and start taking it right from his pay check. Which makes me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't post yesterday but......I did have news that I sort of forgot about after wading my way through a tremendous amount proof. I had my six month review at work, and the good news is I'm getting a whole 25 cent raise. The only thing that was picked at was the last transaction I'd done for Jesse, see usually I write on the deposit slip where each little bit is going(should be the customers job not mine) That one day I didn't, Pam (affectionately dubbed the troll by Amy) decided to nit pick it, I mean come on lady I sent ya a photo copy of everything can you not figure it out. Sigh Really it was never said that we had to write it out if the customer didn't do it, I had started doing for Jesse's sake cause I knew how he liked to keep track of things. Not because someone had told me I had too.  Plus I thought that's why we made the photo copy of all the slips, checks and what nots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay I'm really tired need sleep, good night to some, good mornings to other, and good afternoon............I think I covered them all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110628936739457427?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110628936739457427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110628936739457427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110628936739457427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110628936739457427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/tired_21.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110611893019646538</id><published>2005-01-19T01:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-19T01:15:30.196-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Seasons Cycle</title><content type='html'>As one sits and watches&lt;br /&gt;Snowflakes softly falling&lt;br /&gt;Lightly landing upon ones lashes&lt;br /&gt;Slowly melting more keep crashing&lt;br /&gt;Oh how one ever misses rain&lt;br /&gt;With such pure white beauty covering the masses&lt;br /&gt;Rain will cleanse like no other&lt;br /&gt;Saturating not only clothes&lt;br /&gt;But heart and soul as well&lt;br /&gt;Washing away worries, fears and grown up notions&lt;br /&gt;The luminous brightness blanketing it all&lt;br /&gt;Is just a cover hiding dirt and grime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opens spring with warming air&lt;br /&gt;Yet cold the falling rain does stay&lt;br /&gt;Sun and showers giving such way&lt;br /&gt;To newly sprouting leaves in play&lt;br /&gt;Oh how one misses the Scarlet days&lt;br /&gt;With scents of sweet pastel pleasures swirling by the grasses&lt;br /&gt;Crisp and vibrant each echoed sound&lt;br /&gt;Colors rich and startling&lt;br /&gt;Leaves let free to dance and weave&lt;br /&gt;One will join them in their transitive ballad&lt;br /&gt;Flowering crabs and lilacs giving sway&lt;br /&gt;As do each blossom wilts and withers away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer days of heat and rain&lt;br /&gt;Sun to roast tan a whitened hide&lt;br /&gt;Smiles picnics abundant family time&lt;br /&gt;Open waters for the taking&lt;br /&gt;Oh how one misses softly falling flakes&lt;br /&gt;With crystal clear lakes, and bright green grasses tickling the toes&lt;br /&gt;Diving into fluffy soft whiteness&lt;br /&gt;Catching shimmering snowflakes upon ones tongue&lt;br /&gt;Snow devils in mischievous play&lt;br /&gt;Jack Frost sculpting images upon the glass&lt;br /&gt;As Scorching heat leaves ones mood to be desired&lt;br /&gt;Drying out what lushness ever flowered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autumn cooling crisp and haughty&lt;br /&gt;Shades of reds, orange, and yellow&lt;br /&gt;A kaleidoscope of vibrant beauty at its leisure&lt;br /&gt;Piles of leaves bound upon by children young and old&lt;br /&gt;Oh how one misses scents of pastel pleasures&lt;br /&gt;Winds of whisper chills to calm the summer fever&lt;br /&gt;Newly sprouting grass giving back its color&lt;br /&gt;Sheets of crushed glassed ice melting into nothing&lt;br /&gt;Rains washing away what ever rubble lay&lt;br /&gt;Cleaning tarnished souls in play&lt;br /&gt;As autumn leaves its ghastly figures standing tall&lt;br /&gt;A memorial to all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110611893019646538?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110611893019646538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110611893019646538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110611893019646538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110611893019646538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/seasons-cycle.html' title='Seasons Cycle'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110610831011292503</id><published>2005-01-18T21:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-18T22:33:03.753-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bug is Gone (I don't mean the Bug Snot)</title><content type='html'>Yaaaaayyyy I have fully recovered from my icky feelings I suffered from yesterday. Had I good day at work conversing with Amy and Jules...(I'm silently wondering if it was a bad thing bringing those two together, I have a feeling they will be scheming against me while I'm off working.) Mind you they had this whole plot worked out that I fell in the loo, when I was actually caught by timing on a brb by the proof that needed finishing. Yes Jules hun I scrolled back with some effort, and read it all. Mind ya I'll keep ya two alive till I find replacements. ;P which I don't think is likely really. Ya both one of kind, Jules you being the male kind and Amy being the female kind. Yes I had to point that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After work Corey picked me up and I asked if we could stop off at the store so I could get some groceries before picking the kids up, and asked Corey if he'd like to stay for dinner. Being as he's been such a gracious chuffer this past week. Thank You. With cooking, cleaning and relaxing while the kids played it was a very nice evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110610831011292503?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110610831011292503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110610831011292503' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110610831011292503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110610831011292503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/bug-is-gone-i-dont-mean-bug-snot.html' title='The Bug is Gone (I don&apos;t mean the Bug Snot)'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110600681849761750</id><published>2005-01-17T17:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T18:06:58.496-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sickie</title><content type='html'>After a nice weekend. I am now suffering from the flu, my son first passed it off to my daughters, then they passed it along to me. Though I have kept from spewing, I'm all achey tired, I need some c vit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tired going to work today, but Collete thought I looked like shit and thought I should go home. hehe Don't ya just love honesty, I told her I felt like shit and she offered to give me a ride home. With it being my brother's birthday over the weekend and such he didn't get much work done on my car and I don't blame him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night by chance my sister called and asked if I wanted to hang with our brother for the night, and she offered to watch the kids. So I went out. Had really good time, and ended up in a deep convo about why I find it hard to talk to people. So I never made it to the next stage of the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I found myself and my children over at Corey's momma's house, to watch the Vikings lose their way out of the play offs. It was a nice change of pace hanging out with lawyers. With the kids all playing nicely at that, just to sit and relax like that was nice. Afterwards Corey and I rented a few movies, the kids watched theirs it was a good flick. Then they were shuffled off to bed as we put in the Adam Sandler one, 50 dates, it was sweet  movie I like the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning woke to 35 below weather, and couldn't get Corey's car running. So his mom gave rides to everyone's perspective spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110600681849761750?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110600681849761750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110600681849761750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110600681849761750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110600681849761750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/sickie.html' title='Sickie'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110575776569972324</id><published>2005-01-14T20:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-14T20:56:05.700-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night</title><content type='html'>It's Friday night, I have nothing exciting planned. Spending the evening at home with my kids. It's been a full week of a different sort. I don't really know how I feel about it all. Just a big mix of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing friends, wishing some were closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110575776569972324?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110575776569972324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110575776569972324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110575776569972324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110575776569972324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/friday-night.html' title='Friday Night'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110558786825760882</id><published>2005-01-12T20:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T21:44:28.256-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired As Hell But Still Kicking</title><content type='html'>I'll ask ya all to forgive me now for any typos. It's only 9 pm and I feel right run down. Too many things have happened lately that have made my head spin. I want sleep. I have plans to become a hermit in the near future, and I'm boycotting men. Except for my butler ;) I do need someone to iron my papers for me. (hmmm remind me to get a subscription to one) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother might have my car ready by the end of the weekend, but I'm thinking that all depends on how the weather holds out, and if I can foot enough for the parts. He's got the it taken apart and might have fixed a problem that I didn't know I had or that wasn't really an issue on it as well, something with the rpms. I don't remember what he said only thing that sorta made sense was rpms. My mind was elsewhere, colliding upon it self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I keep thinking about this talk I'm suppose to have with Jesse sometime. I'm scared, having flash backs of the Meldon talks. Where he'd do all the talking and tell me how it was going to be, and if I tried to have input I'd be shot down before I had a chance to explain what I meant. Have a feeling I'll have to make a split second decision, or hold someone else's grief in my hands. I feel that to be unfair to any party that might rightly so be involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay score one for me, I have to say the week I have had gave me guts. Though I'd like to smack my mother for meddling. Meldon calls me and asks me about my car troubles, I tell him I have it taken care of. Then asked him why he's avoiding being served. He said he's not, then I ask why didn't ya sign the acknowledgement of service, and why don't you give me your address so I can get you served. I want this over with. He has the nerve to tell me it'll be done this week. (I've heard that one before) I tell him next what will happen if he doesn't either sign the acknowledgement of service, or give me the address for the sheriff to serve him. He didn't believe me it can happen, but we will do service by media and have it printed in the papers. My lawyer says it can be done takes time and special regulations or something but it can be done. Really Meldon can't stand to look bad, so I'm hoping that'll be enough to get him to comply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110558786825760882?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110558786825760882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110558786825760882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110558786825760882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110558786825760882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/tired-as-hell-but-still-kicking.html' title='Tired As Hell But Still Kicking'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110549961140139350</id><published>2005-01-11T19:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-11T21:13:31.400-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Smiling Despite</title><content type='html'>I'm smiling despite being dumped by someone I wasn't going out with. Hehe. Yes I know I'll let the confusion settle in. Okay my friend Jesse, the one that broke his back and while in the hospital his father died. Sad but true. Finally got honest with me. See we were really close friends and since his accident he stopped calling me texting or coming to the bank. I'm thinking he has a lot to deal with and can't be bothered and when he's ready he'll contact me. So a month and a half on still I'm getting the cold shoulder. Being outright snubbed, and avoided. Yesterday I had a really bad day, and I thought maybe just maybe texting him would cheer me up. But I was in a mood and decided to out right ask him if he found someone he found more amazing than me, it was meant as a joke on my part. Being as he used to tell me he found me amazing and couldn't figure out how I managed three kids, a clean house, dinner, bath time, reading time, a absent parent that'd cancel pick up times, getting them to school all on time, and working nine hour days, and alternating Saturdays.  I get back a text saying "kinda" I reply back with a "What" him a "Kinda Have" Okay not expecting my day to get worse but it did at that point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay a guy that used to call me everyday to see how my day was, would come over in the evenings and help me get the kids to bed at times, watch movies with me, fall asleep with his head in my lap as I was reading to the end of a chapter, (I'd end up reading the next chapter too) Someone that'd try and lick my eye if I was in a foul mood, someone that offered to do my laundry at his place if I was short on cash to take it to the laundry mat, Someone that could get me to talk about how things made me feel,(typing is different from talking, being verbal about things is hard for me) Someone that'd give me back rubs with out my asking, suddenly won't say more than he's doing alright. I missed him. Even forgot what his voice sounded like on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him why he didn't just tell me. It would have saved a lot of trouble. Mind you I did tell him I wasn't looking for anything serious and I couldn't promise him any sort of commitment. But it was nice him being there and I enjoyed his company. I thought he enjoyed mine too. His reply was that he didn't want me mad at him. Which would upset you more with a close friend them telling you they hooked up with someone, or them suddenly treating you like some deceased freak. You right it off as them dealing with a recent death and accident later to find out that's not it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss knew of my bad day yesterday and asked me if I was doing better today, she said she was afraid I was going to cry at work, and I told her my day got worse after she had left work and I did end up crying. She asked why, so I sat down in her office and told her what Jesse finally admitted to me. With her being like a second mother to Jesse I figured it was fine.  She got down about it and knew that how distraught I was over Jesse getting hurt and how much time we had spent together before the accident. Even if I couldn't find the words to tell him I cared for him, Beth knew I did.  When she got back from getting the mail she gave me flowers and a funny card which lifted my mood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the day as Beth was leaving for lunch Jesse comes to the bank, as he banks there and I've been doing his transactions for the past five months I'm the only one that knows how to apply a contribution to his IRA. So I couldn't rightly go and hide, even though it was my first thought to do so when I saw him. I was still upset. Felt a bit uncomfortable. I let him talk, asked questions concerning his health, and his transactions got the forms that needed to be filled out. Waded my way through it I didn't pretend everything was alright, he told me I could call him if I wanted to and he still wanted to talk to me about things. Okay he asked me if I was going to be alright, I told him I would at some point and asked him to take care. Almost started crying as I went to photo copy the forms, but I choked it down. Laughed when Kyra told me I should have kicked him in the nuts. More at me trying to do such an act, when I really blame myself. And laughed even more when Beth came back from lunch and told me that she told Jesse she was mad at him for hurting her Heather. I think she's more upset because of the girl he got back together with, Beth doesn't like her, neither did Jesse's father. I figure if Beth doesn't like her, I should be the one feeling sorry for Jesse not the other way around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all in all life is once again full of sunshine. Even if I don't have my car back yet. Plus from now on Beth is doing all screenings for potential dates.(She doesn't know it yet) And Amy is coming to visit on the 21st Woooooohoooooo how I miss her and our little giggling fits. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110549961140139350?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110549961140139350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110549961140139350' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110549961140139350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110549961140139350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/smiling-despite.html' title='Smiling Despite'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110533082957684251</id><published>2005-01-09T21:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T22:20:29.576-06:00</updated><title type='text'>20 minute Cheering Session</title><content type='html'>So after a moopy morning and afternoon, I finally go to drop off my bother's car and pick my son up from grandma's. My mother wasn't home yet so I called up Corey to see what he was doing. The boy offered me a ride home, as my car isn't ready yet. :( He met me over at my brother's and the girls and I pile into Ash's car, which he's using as his car is in a sickly state as well.  On the seat are a couple of dairy queen treats neatly in their wrappers. Corey nicely informs me that they are for us, I look at him like he's nuts and asked if he really thought that was a good idea in the car. He said go for it. I shrug my shoulders and give Chantal one, and he informs me that they are to share it. I just shake my as I know what will happen. He lets me know the other one is for me. So as the girls start their bickering about sharing with one another, I open the other one and show the girls how to share. OOOppps it happened the girls dropped the ice cream, Corey is laughing he finds it the funniest thing in the world watching me try to reach in the back and pick it up for them.(It fell on the seat) As my children continue to get all sticky, Corey and I working on the other one, I'm holding my hand underneath it so if it falls it won't get all over the car. The the girls drop there's again I had the treat off to Corey and reach in the back to help the girls again and Corey thought it'd would be cute of him to plot the ice cream in the palm of my hand. So I was too nice to smear it in his face but I did shove the stick in his mouth. He then has the nerve to call me cute. I have ice cream on my face my hands are sticky and here's him laughing, okay I was laughing too at that point but that's not the point. Fine there is no point. I find some paper towels in the back seat and wipe my face and hands clean the best I can but not before I threaten Corey with wiping them all over his face. Then Corey decides that he needs to stop at the gas station to answer the question of the day.  And I thought I was spontaneous. lol Have to say it was all refreshing and made my day. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to try for sledding next week, and Corey thanks for the ride home, see ya bright and early. ;) I do need to get the kids to school and day care and I need to get to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110533082957684251?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110533082957684251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110533082957684251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110533082957684251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110533082957684251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/20-minute-cheering-session.html' title='20 minute Cheering Session'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110523759710181794</id><published>2005-01-08T20:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-08T20:32:38.456-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid No Good GRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr</title><content type='html'>I can't believe it. After how hard I tried to hold it together, the last line is shattered. Someone that caused a good friend of mine so much grief, has gotten one last punch in. My last final hope, was the trust. It's gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110523759710181794?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110523759710181794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110523759710181794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110523759710181794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110523759710181794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/stupid-no-good-grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.html' title='Stupid No Good GRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110517142040818596</id><published>2005-01-08T01:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-08T02:03:40.406-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>It's almost 2 am, I'm tired. I was in a good mood most of my day. Okay a down right goofy mood, I ended up texting Jesse and telling his fly was down. He texted me back a laugh but wouldn't tell me if he actually checked. He didn't have any comment when I asked if it was refreshing to know strange people..... Oh Well, tomorrow is another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five minutes to close I get a call from Sean, cute Kurtis's friend, asking me if I planned on doing anything tonight. Wanted to know if I fancied tagging along with them for the night. I had to decline, being I work in the morning, I'm broke, and I wanted time with the kids (as they were gone all last weekend).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent the night cleaning, cooking dinner and working on site stuff, uploading some pictures to my machine, and adjusting the size. I'm really starting to like that fireworks program I've been testing. I change, adjust the pic size and not lose the resolution. I'm having fun with it, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well late to bed and early to rise as I have to work in the morning hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110517142040818596?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110517142040818596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110517142040818596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110517142040818596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110517142040818596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110507181343572950</id><published>2005-01-06T21:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-06T22:23:33.436-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing Profound</title><content type='html'>Well the dentist's appointment didn't leave me in pain, so my day was fairly good. I decided to go back to work afterwards. Ended up opening four new accounts today and opened a safe deposit box. Got another month done on my check log I've been working on as well. The work day was fairly productive. Even found a bit of time in it to sit under the counter by the heater.....hehe And was called the crouching Teller. Before anyone asks if I'm insane I can answer that....With a big YES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so the Crouching Teller thing has come about because I sit in my chair at work in a crouched up ball. That started because no one could see me when they walked in the door due to being vertically challenged. People would tell me they didn't see me hiding there so I started sitting like that for people to be able to see me. See there is a method to my madness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow my bother will be taking my car and starting work on it. In turn borrowing me his car for the weekend. Though he's unsure that he'll be able to finish it by the end of the weekend. He doesn't know how long it'll take to order the parts for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110507181343572950?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110507181343572950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110507181343572950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110507181343572950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110507181343572950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/nothing-profound.html' title='Nothing Profound'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110498228299313448</id><published>2005-01-05T20:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-05T21:31:22.993-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Car Troubles</title><content type='html'>My car may or may not have seen it's days. The head gasket is going it won't hold any antifreeze, and if I take it to a shop they'll charge about a grand for repairs. My brother would fix for about 400, but rightly don't feel good about him using his off time from work to fix my car. My sister was kind enough to let me use her mustang till Friday morning so I have to figure out something buy the time I'm off work on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With some other things on my mind like a dentist's appointment tomorrow, hopefully they won't find anything to work on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a text convo with Jesse, he might go with me to The Taste of Minnesota. It's the one of the first festivities of week of things to show our winter spirit, Polar Days. hehe Getting tickets for it complements of the Bank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's that time of year again, for the poetry convention too. I think it'd be fun to go, but........It's car or trip. I think car is higher on the list. Guess I'll just have to see what tax returns have in store for me. So looking forward to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110498228299313448?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110498228299313448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110498228299313448' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110498228299313448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110498228299313448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/car-troubles.html' title='Car Troubles'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110489046457635026</id><published>2005-01-04T18:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-04T20:01:04.576-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Unsure Outcome </title><content type='html'>Where to begin, I got to see Corey today the first time since he's been back from Egypt. Got a call from him while I was at the mall for my lunch break, and he came to met me. It was really good to see him and not just cause he was baring a gift and my camera, which wasn't full of sand. :) A very beautiful wooden box with mother of pearl used for design. He told me about the only daisy he saw in Egypt and Butterfly, which he got a pic of and when he gets his filmed developed I get a copy.....hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get back to work and being that one of my duties is to answer the phone I did. I ended up on a phone call for 45 minutes trying to explain to someone the reason checks got returned was because they didn't have the funds in their account to cover them. I actually feel a bit bad for them, even though I was getting frustrated. An older lady that I feel needs help with her financial dealings. I wonder if there is someone that can help her, I later find out that Father Pat(a priest from St. Mary's Mission, the same one that used to look over the church in the town I graduated from) was now helping her get things sorted with her account. It rested my mind at ease. I remembered Father Pat, made me smile, we were all sad to see him have to leave the church in our town, wasn't long after he left that I stopped going to church. My own reasons of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About an hour from when I got off work it was finally confirmed that I will be getting commissions for opening accounts. Beth taught me how to fill out the paper work that needed to be done for the accounts I've opened. Quite simple actually, though she couldn't explain the process they use to figure the amount, not that I'm too worried about it. Every little bit helps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a bit of a deeper note I was having a sentimental discussion, okay more so I was sulking about the little mementos from my past that were lost. Due moving around so much and Meldon not paying storage costs. Notes that were passed between friends in high school, grade reports, papers done for school with good marks, my journal(I used to think my sister was out to get me...hehe), early year poetry, letters from pen pals(ya know chatting is just another way of that I think) drawings I'd done(not that I was really good at it), news paper clippings from when my dance team made the paper, and one from the volley ball tournament we had in phy-ed, pics of friends(ya know the ones ya'd exchange with a little note on the back) a bottle collection, dried flowers, and jewelry box my great aunt gave me that she used when she was a little girl, the stub from the plane ticket of when I went to Costa Rica. I miss going through it all. Every once in a while I'd take em out and let them trigger so many feelings and memories sometimes I'd cry, sometimes I'd smile. The purpose of them was so I could remember, have something that showed who I once was and that I could compare with what I've become.  If I'd got off track in my way they'd be there to remind me of what could be possible.  My father still has a few things, I'm glad I forgot when I moved out. I wouldn't have em now. But in truth I don't think I do need them, not any more.  That makes me feel.....I don't know.....at ease, settled, as if my searching has come to an end. I do remember, I thought I needed all that to help me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110489046457635026?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110489046457635026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110489046457635026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110489046457635026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110489046457635026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/unsure-outcome.html' title='Unsure Outcome '/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110481583064178117</id><published>2005-01-03T23:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-03T23:17:10.640-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Things Sorted</title><content type='html'>Well today I got a few things sorted, and almost forgot to post cause I was too into playing round with the web space. Coming soon Snow^A^ngel's Heaven. Mind ya it probably won't be something real fancy cause I'm still in the learning process. I've had a bit of help working out bugs and such thus far, which I am thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got my tenting on my phone working too.  And Destiny thinks for some reason she's going to Disneyland tomorrow. I tired to explain that it was very far away, and I don't think she's going on a class trip there any time soon. Though it has crossed my mind to take them to Valley Fair sometime in the summer months. Don't want to get ahead of myself though. All in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110481583064178117?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110481583064178117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110481583064178117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110481583064178117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110481583064178117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/getting-things-sorted.html' title='Getting Things Sorted'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110472678337549853</id><published>2005-01-02T22:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T22:33:03.376-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Beyond Past</title><content type='html'>Heavenward thy gaze once fell&lt;br /&gt;Past the brazen moon in glory&lt;br /&gt;Brandywine once slowly sipped&lt;br /&gt;Past the drunken fury&lt;br /&gt;Gallantry once at its finest hour&lt;br /&gt;Past all one wished to bury&lt;br /&gt;Innocence once displayed&lt;br /&gt;Past the angelic wings of lory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110472678337549853?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110472678337549853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110472678337549853' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110472678337549853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110472678337549853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/beyond-past.html' title='Beyond Past'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110468834989626925</id><published>2005-01-02T11:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T11:52:29.896-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Artist to Add to My Favorites</title><content type='html'>So last night, I was sitting and chatting with Absalom, and he'd asked me if I've ever heard of Lennon. I was about ask if he meant John Lennon, when he let me know he was talking about someone totally different. I was curious as to why he was wondering, when he gave me the site &lt;a href="http://www.lennononline.com/index.htm?inc=albums&amp;alb_numCols=&amp;amp;alb_id=191"&gt;http://www.lennononline.com/index.htm?inc=albums&amp;alb_numCols=&amp;amp;alb_id=191&lt;/a&gt; He also informed how some of the lyrics, reminded him of me and what I've been through. So I proceed to read them. I was right freaked at first, there were two lines in Trying to Take Me that I had pretty much said to Meldon the day I left. It drove my curiosity, and I kept reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a real player, and didn't want to have to get a fifth music program to listen to the clips, so Absalom offered to send me some. I have to say I was blown away. 5:30 Saturday Morning has a most wonderful piano piece, and Thank You, the first line makes me giggle the way it's sung. Not to mention Asking You has just a wonderful sound too, it sorta gets stuck in ya head. Broke of Your Car, has lyrics that hit close to home as well. I have to admit it's one great album. Thanks again for sharing with me Absalom. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110468834989626925?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110468834989626925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110468834989626925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110468834989626925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110468834989626925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/new-artist-to-add-to-my-favorites.html' title='New Artist to Add to My Favorites'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110463544420019062</id><published>2005-01-01T20:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T21:10:44.200-06:00</updated><title type='text'>First One Lame</title><content type='html'>Okies I know the first post seemed quite lame by my standards so I thought I'd try again. If inquiring minds need feeding, one must cater to said needs. I did have a truly great night last night, but paid for it in the waking hours of the next day. Feeling quite lazy I didn't do anything overly exciting, though did find out that some people thought I'd had fallen off the face of the earth.(Puzzlement sets in)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya see I finally sorted out my phone problem, ya know the one with losing my 200 dollar phone and having to devolve my technologies back to the ancient nokia that they no longer sell, and gets crap reception out at my place of living. So you see I went into Unicel and asked about insurance, I had thought I'd requested on said lost phone. They tired to find my contract that would have had it written on there whether or not I had asked for the insurance. Oddly enough and by luck of chance they had lost the contract so for their mistake, they said I could get the replacement phone for the cost of the four months I should have had the insurance for and the insurance deductible, a mere 59 dollars totaled up. This time I made sure the service rep put it on my account that I wanted the insurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I've come across a problem with my service today. Wouldn't rightly know was having a problem till my sister's boyfriend clued me into it. Hence the reason people had thought I'd fallen off the earth. See I'm not receiving my calls and texts, I can call out but calls aren't getting through. Mostly likely my service provider is having Tower problems due to the weather we've been having. Ice, snow, and rain. Not necessarily in that order but I think ya get the drift of things. I'm sure they'll have things sorted out there sometime. Hopefully soon.&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/9891698-110463544420019062?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110463544420019062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110463544420019062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110463544420019062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110463544420019062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/first-one-lame.html' title='First One Lame'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9891698.post-110462576014674828</id><published>2005-01-01T17:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T18:29:20.146-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Year's Eve</title><content type='html'>So last night I went out, the first time in a month. I had a blast, saw some people I haven't seen in awhile met loads of new ones. Collected a few phone numbers. Danced the night away. Asked out twice by different people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subject number one Name Jeremy, was going to school to become an aquatic biologist, has decided to try his skills in construction instead. Good dancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subject Number two Name Kevine, was raised as an army brat and has decided to follow in his father's footsteps, and has joined the marines, is from California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subject Number three Name Jamie, raised in bemidji went to school with my sister, likes movies that make ya think. Doesn't believe in sinchordestiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ones that asked for dates, I've meet before, while out or otherwise at work. There's Shane and James, neither are really my type. But are nice guys, though I feel humoring them and going out with either would certainly complicate things I've become accustomed to. Main thing would be answering to someone, my quiet time disrupted. Plus they will want to aquire usuage of time that'd I'd rather spend at home with my children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People that I ran into that I was glad to see, Jess not Jesse different people all together. Jess is an aspiring rapper that has signed to a lable out of the twin cities. Arica the girlfriend of co-worker I had back in the days of highschool and working at the supermarket. Dave Bios friend I run into while out his brother is James.  Gerald a friend of Jesse's brother Lee, offered me a ride in the limo they bought the services of for the night, but sadly I couldn't find my sister at the time so I missed out. Tendoh japaneese exchange student at the Uni, went with me on my fall picture taking spree. Ben the after party passout, it's sad when the host passes out first but he's a fun guy.  Damin the owner of the "U" bar nice guy, Jamie F. a bartender and I get to count his tips on monday.  hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmmm I know alot of guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9891698-110462576014674828?l=snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/110462576014674828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9891698&amp;postID=110462576014674828' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110462576014674828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9891698/posts/default/110462576014674828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snowangelsheaven.blogspot.com/2005/01/new-years-eve.html' title='The New Year&apos;s Eve'/><author><name>Snow^A^ngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915957283590917928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://webpages.charter.net/snowangel/pics/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
