<?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-8607415457586913986</id><updated>2011-07-08T09:55:49.378-07:00</updated><category term='travel'/><category term='children'/><category term='scrapbooking'/><category term='memories'/><category term='school clothes'/><category term='summer jobs'/><category term='routines'/><category term='family'/><category term='cherished memories'/><category term='time travel'/><category term='campmeeting'/><category term='school'/><category term='helping grandma'/><category term='love'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>a memory to make</title><subtitle type='html'>a place for memories, both old and new. have you made a memory today?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>cindy lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16528898857238799700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U7GPZKDMwvM/SmVO6qAr-2I/AAAAAAAAACU/F5cIuBa2S1U/S220/DSCN0107.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8607415457586913986.post-8666358362788437364</id><published>2010-08-01T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T22:02:38.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>almost a year since my last post. this is not how i intended to do things when i started this blog. at the moment i am ok that i don't have an audience, but i wanted to remember my past, write things down for my kids, and record the events that are giving us new memories to cherish. boo. i have not done well. a year has gone by and so much has happened, and i have not recorded any of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because of this weekend, however, i feel a renewed sense of optimism that i will be more diligent in recording my thoughts here. it has been a weekend of memories brought back to life. i had my 30th high school reunion. my brother brought me a cd of old family pictures and documents to look at. i went to a wedding that included a reconciliation of sorts. all of these experiences have driven home the idea that while it is necessary to live in the present, the past has helped make me who i am today. it is important to remember, to celebrate and to use those experiences from my past to allow me to live today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks for the memories!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8607415457586913986-8666358362788437364?l=amemorytomake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/feeds/8666358362788437364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2010/08/almost-year-since-my-last-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/8666358362788437364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/8666358362788437364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2010/08/almost-year-since-my-last-post.html' title=''/><author><name>cindy lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16528898857238799700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U7GPZKDMwvM/SmVO6qAr-2I/AAAAAAAAACU/F5cIuBa2S1U/S220/DSCN0107.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8607415457586913986.post-8681886556933769079</id><published>2009-09-14T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T23:53:06.412-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school clothes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>school days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;wow -- almost a month since my last post. what have i been doing? i have been going to the beach, having birthday parties, spending time with my kids and getting ready for school. i CANNOT believe the summer is over and the kids are back in school. it just seems like yesterday they got out and we had 10 whole weeks stretching out in front of us. now the sun is going down earlier every day and the evenings are cool again and my hot cocoa doesn't make me sweat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;when the kids started school last week, i was thinking about my own school days. when i was a kid, my grandma was the one who always bought me my school clothes. her taste was always very different than mine, but since she was buying, i had to take what i got. there was one exception -- i always begged for saddle shoes. do you remember those? they were either white with a black "saddle" over the instep, or tan with brown. i loved those shoes! my grandma didn't understand why i always wanted that style, and sometimes tried to steer me to something different. in the end, however, she usually gave in and i would wear them home, constantly stealing glances at my feet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;now when i take my own children shopping for school clothes, i find that my taste is different than theirs, and i always try to keep to a budget, even when what they want is more than i want to pay. the one area where i almost always give in, though, is when we go to buy shoes. i am a sucker for letting them get what they want in that department. i always set a maximum price. other than that, as long as the shoes are good quality and fit well, i pretty much let them get what they want. later, when they wear them for the first time, i smile as i watch them glance at their feet when they think no one is looking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;thanks, grandma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8607415457586913986-8681886556933769079?l=amemorytomake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/feeds/8681886556933769079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/09/school-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/8681886556933769079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/8681886556933769079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/09/school-days.html' title='school days'/><author><name>cindy lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16528898857238799700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U7GPZKDMwvM/SmVO6qAr-2I/AAAAAAAAACU/F5cIuBa2S1U/S220/DSCN0107.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8607415457586913986.post-2372141957297394213</id><published>2009-08-15T01:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T01:59:48.148-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time travel'/><title type='text'>time travel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;have you ever been transported back in time by a sound, a taste, a fragrance? it's not deja vu, it is a memory triggered by current events. that is what happened to me tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;it was girl's night out and my friend and i were having dinner before our movie started. i had ordered a cheeseburger. nothing exotic, just a basic, fast food cheeseburger. we sat down and began to eat. i took my first bite, and immediately was transported back to my childhood. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;when i was a child, trips to the doctor or dentist often meant visiting our local medical school/teaching hospital. as a reward my parents would sometimes take my brother and i to a nearby small restaurant after our appointments. it was called the carousel and it specialized in hamburgers and milkshakes. us kids liked it because they cooked the burgers and then we could put anything we wanted on it. heaven for a picky kid like me! the dining area was decorated with clowns and many of the seats were in the shape of carousel animals, hence the name of the restaurant. we always looked forward to going there, and always felt like we had had a treat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;when i bit into my cheeseburger tonight, it tasted EXACTLY like the burgers from the carousel. juicy, charbroiled (different than the flame broiled burgers that some other fast food places serve), and with only the stuff i liked on it. the sensation was unexpected, but the memory it generated was pleasant. for a moment i was 8 years old again, at the carousel, sitting on a giraffe and eating a hamburger while looking at the clowns painted on the walls. just as quickly, i was back in the food court at the mall, seated across from my friend, wondering where the time has gone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;memories make time travel possible -- "when" have you been recently? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8607415457586913986-2372141957297394213?l=amemorytomake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/feeds/2372141957297394213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/08/time-travel.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/2372141957297394213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/2372141957297394213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/08/time-travel.html' title='time travel'/><author><name>cindy lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16528898857238799700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U7GPZKDMwvM/SmVO6qAr-2I/AAAAAAAAACU/F5cIuBa2S1U/S220/DSCN0107.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8607415457586913986.post-2911511475030882634</id><published>2009-08-09T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T20:45:45.461-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>my first memory</title><content type='html'>i have a terrible memory. (so it makes sense i am writing a blog about documenting and preserving memories, right?!) family and friends often mention experiences and events in which i also participated, and sometimes my recollections are hazy at best. frequently, even after hints and prompting, i have to say, "i'm sorry, i just don't remember." it is sometimes frustrating for me, and amusing for those who take pity on my poor brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes when i look at a picture from my childhood, it seems as if i am remembering that particular event. alas, i think it is more that i have seen the picture often enough that it is the photo i am remembering instead of the event.  there is one experience, however, that i do remember, and it has no accompanying pictures. it is my first real memory. i was four years old, and my family traveled to northern california on the train to see my grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember my mother sitting with me next to the window, pointing to things outside as the train sped down the tracks. i remember a garden with lots of green and shade at my grandma's house. the highlight of the trip for me was getting to go to school with her. she taught first grade and it made me feel very important to be a four year old in a class full of 6 year olds.  i remember being amazed when i discovered that there was a girl in her class who was also named cindy. i don't remember every single thing about that day (hey, i was only four!) but i do recall getting to fingerpaint with the rest of the class. that was fun! my grandma let me bring the picture home and she had it framed for me, and that picture hung in our house until i was in high school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it wasn't until i was a junior or senior in high school that i told my mother that my grandmother had framed the picture upside down. it was supposed to be a man wearing a hat and walking down the street. my grandmother framed it so it looked like a potted plant. (remember, i was only four!). in spite of the upside down painting, i greatly enjoyed the trip, especially the visit to school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even as the finger painted man/flowerpot has become a memory, i hold tight to the joy of a four year old little girl who went to school with her grandma and got to feel special for a day. whenever i see an amtrak train speeding down the tracks i feel the awe of a child watching the world pass by as she sits still. this is how my first memory has remained a part of my life to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is your first memory?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8607415457586913986-2911511475030882634?l=amemorytomake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/feeds/2911511475030882634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-first-memory.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/2911511475030882634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/2911511475030882634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-first-memory.html' title='my first memory'/><author><name>cindy lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16528898857238799700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U7GPZKDMwvM/SmVO6qAr-2I/AAAAAAAAACU/F5cIuBa2S1U/S220/DSCN0107.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8607415457586913986.post-6097415144332831915</id><published>2009-08-03T00:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T01:16:42.424-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='campmeeting'/><title type='text'>memorable friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;every year (this is the 114th, to be exact), the church denomination i grew up in has their annual campmeeting (also known as family camp). people come from miles around, some traveling 2 hours or more, to attend church services, classes, meals and other activities with others from around our state. the joke at campmeeting is, if you aren't related to someone there, they know someone you are related to. i happen to be related to several people who attend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;it is also a time to see old friends. some of these people have known me for over 40 years, some for only a few months, but it is always a joy when our eyes meet and we make our way toward each other and embrace. the words " it is sooo good to see you!" always make me smile. it is good to be missed! what makes these occasions so enjoyable is the fact that we share memories. memories of childhood exploits, teenage angst, college days, new parenthood, our faith; all of these experiences have been shared with the people we care about, relate to, have a history with. we have made memories together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;our family is not just those people we are related to by blood or marriage. our friends are also our family. our shared experiences have created memories that we will carry for a lifetime. our yearly campmeeting gives some of us a chance to reminisce, to remember what brought us together as friends, and it also gives us the chance to build on those memories. that is one thing friends are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;for --&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; to create memories with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;create a new memory with an old friend -- soon!    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8607415457586913986-6097415144332831915?l=amemorytomake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/feeds/6097415144332831915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/08/memorable-friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/6097415144332831915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/6097415144332831915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/08/memorable-friends.html' title='memorable friends'/><author><name>cindy lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16528898857238799700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U7GPZKDMwvM/SmVO6qAr-2I/AAAAAAAAACU/F5cIuBa2S1U/S220/DSCN0107.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8607415457586913986.post-8231778583112895345</id><published>2009-07-26T23:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T00:36:40.729-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scrapbooking'/><title type='text'>scrapbooking my memories</title><content type='html'>i love scrapbooking. i have been doing it for about 10 years now, and have developed my own style. it suits me. it is ok that you can look at my pages and say, yup, cindy did that page. there is no right or wrong way to scrapbook, apart from using archival supplies. the point is that i am preserving memories.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this weekend a friend came over and we scrapbooked together, in between talking and eating. what a blessed few hours that was for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i also finally put most of my finished loose pages into actual scrapbooks. that was such a relief. i have been putting that off for a long time because i usually don't to my actual scrapbooking at home. it was so gratifying to put the pages in order, in books with protectors. i also made a list of pages i need to do to have that feeling of completion i want to have. i need to do a lot! that is ok though. it is not what needs to be done that matters. what matters is that my life and my family is important to me, and one way i show that is by documenting our memories. i think it is more important to me right now than it is to my family that i do this, but my hope is that someday they will get it. that they will understand my motivation. that they will appreciate the time and effort it took to put these books together. that maybe someday the will look at their books and remember the fun but also read between the lines the words LOVE, MOM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i preserved my memories today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8607415457586913986-8231778583112895345?l=amemorytomake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/feeds/8231778583112895345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/07/scrapbooking-my-memories.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/8231778583112895345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/8231778583112895345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/07/scrapbooking-my-memories.html' title='scrapbooking my memories'/><author><name>cindy lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16528898857238799700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U7GPZKDMwvM/SmVO6qAr-2I/AAAAAAAAACU/F5cIuBa2S1U/S220/DSCN0107.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8607415457586913986.post-1961058047937732301</id><published>2009-07-24T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T17:15:26.774-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer jobs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><title type='text'>the worst summer job (except for strawberry picking)</title><content type='html'>i did the ice cream truck job for a summer during college. worst job i ever had -- i got yelled at for waking children from their naps, people always wanted something for free (heck, i didn't even get anything for free -- anything i ate came out of my profits), i got hot and sweaty every day, and i am sure i suffered hearing loss from the music. i made no money for school -- everything i made i gave to my mom, as money was very tight. so why do i remember those days with a smile?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25 years ago, i made a memory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8607415457586913986-1961058047937732301?l=amemorytomake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/feeds/1961058047937732301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/07/worst-summer-job-except-for-strawberry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/1961058047937732301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/1961058047937732301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/07/worst-summer-job-except-for-strawberry.html' title='the worst summer job (except for strawberry picking)'/><author><name>cindy lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16528898857238799700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U7GPZKDMwvM/SmVO6qAr-2I/AAAAAAAAACU/F5cIuBa2S1U/S220/DSCN0107.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8607415457586913986.post-2349400944680741274</id><published>2009-07-21T22:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T23:09:20.136-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='helping grandma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cherished memories'/><title type='text'>lunch with grandma</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;this morning, my youngest mentioned that he had not had lunch with his grandma (my mom) for a long time.  it just so happened that we were planning on having lunch with her today.  he got to help by pushing her manual wheelchair, he unlocked the door to her apartment and he also got to drive her electric wheelchair.  all of these things made him feel important and useful.  whenever he does something to help his grandma, she praises him.  in his life, that is huge.  afterwards, he always says to me, "mom, remember when i helped grandma . . ." .  things that are important to us, we cherish.  when we cherish something we remember it.  what memory from your childhood do you cherish?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;we made a memory today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8607415457586913986-2349400944680741274?l=amemorytomake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/feeds/2349400944680741274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/07/lunch-with-grandma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/2349400944680741274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/2349400944680741274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/07/lunch-with-grandma.html' title='lunch with grandma'/><author><name>cindy lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16528898857238799700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U7GPZKDMwvM/SmVO6qAr-2I/AAAAAAAAACU/F5cIuBa2S1U/S220/DSCN0107.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8607415457586913986.post-8849423465875981793</id><published>2009-07-20T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T22:48:02.765-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='routines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;it is interesting to me when i find out some activity that i consider boring or routine turns out to be a highlight in the life of one of my children. baking cookies, taking a drive in the rain, letting them try an activity for the first time; all of these have been mentioned by a child as something they will always remember.  my goal is that i will pay more attention to these routine experiences, that i will take the time to document them, and that by doing so i will elevate the mundane to the memorable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;have you made a memory today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8607415457586913986-8849423465875981793?l=amemorytomake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/feeds/8849423465875981793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-is-interesting-to-me-when-i-find-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/8849423465875981793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8607415457586913986/posts/default/8849423465875981793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amemorytomake.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-is-interesting-to-me-when-i-find-out.html' title=''/><author><name>cindy lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16528898857238799700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U7GPZKDMwvM/SmVO6qAr-2I/AAAAAAAAACU/F5cIuBa2S1U/S220/DSCN0107.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
