<?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-687326179523626133</id><updated>2011-09-20T11:31:29.221-07:00</updated><category term='He will carry you'/><category term='birthday/field trip'/><category term='Mamma Mia'/><category term='Bill and his cars'/><title type='text'>Kathy's Chronicles</title><subtitle type='html'>DELIGHT YOURSELF IN THE LORD AND HE WILL GIVE YOU THE DESIRES OF YOU HEART

COMMIT YOUR WAY TO THE LORD; TRUST IN HIM AND HE WILL DO THIS.

BE STILL BEFORE THE LORD AND WAIT PATIENTLY FOR HIM.

PSALM 37:4,5,7</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-6971958054904682058</id><published>2011-08-18T18:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T18:38:03.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Have I Been</title><content type='html'>It has been months months since I have blogged.  I have been through planning a wedding, nine months of a foot infection and surgery, bariatric surgery, marrying off a daughter, worrying about a sick father-in-law, the death of a really close niece, and last but not least, sending that newly married daughter off to live in another state while her hubby studies at the seminary etc., etc., etc.  It seems there was time to blog but honestly, I don't know if mentally I could have.  I found out at age 62, things such as planning and surgeries and moves,  hit me a lot harder......yes, I do mean in the brain.  Thinking  clearly is a rarity these days.  Hopefully things have settled down now.  I want to get back to writing.  I miss putting my thoughts down.  Anyway, I am becoming more and more like the cartoon "Maxine".  That's how I remember what I have done the day before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our family has really changed a lot lately.  Chad, Missy, Morgan, Madyson and Ashlyn, along with Karma, the dog, moved to Charleston, SC.  They bought a lovely home on Daniel Island.  Chad moved with his work.  The girls all started brand new schools this week.  It has been interesting for them.  Two tenth graders and a fourth grader in new schools makes for some jittery nerves.  Just last week, Katie and Caleb, along with Storm the dog,  moved to Wake Forest, NC for Caleb to begin seminary.  They are still settling in.  Katie is looking for a job and we are all trusting God to provide something for her.   She and Caleb enjoyed a mission trip to Venezuela with Bill and our team from Bethleham.  It was a great success.  Their lives were changed forever and so were the lives of hundreds of Venezuelans who came to know Christ.  Jeff, Amy, McKenna, Bailey, Avery and Quinn are still in Lyman, SC.  Jeff still pastors LifeSong Church.  They will be going in a brand new building in September.  They continue to grow by leaps and bounds.  God has blessed over and over again the ministry there.  They average over 700 on Sundays.  This growth has taken place over a little over three years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill and I are about to complete 7 years at Bethlehem Baptist.  It has been a fast and super-sweet time.  Bill still enjoys two yearly trips to Venezuela.  He also teaches two courses at Truett-McConnell College.  I still sing in the choir, teach 1st Grade Sunday School, WMU, and a few other things.  There is never a dull moment.&lt;br /&gt;God is still blessing.  He provides for our every need. So, Where Have I Been?  Right here, that's where!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-6971958054904682058?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6971958054904682058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/6971958054904682058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/6971958054904682058'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-5336422115065768300</id><published>2010-10-03T20:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T20:24:34.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging and weddings</title><content type='html'>I started out so gung-ho on my blogging but as time went on, I stopped.  When did life get so busy?  About eight months ago when I started planning a wedding.  Blogging had to take a backseat.  Wedding bell blues took over.  I must say that I totally let the wedding planning consume me.  That's o.k.  That's what it takes, especially at my age.  I spent a lot of time trying to think what all was different about planning Katie's wedding in comparison to Amy and Missy's.  It's my AGE.  At 61, I have a little harder time remembering all there is to remember to do.  Its getting there though.  October 30th will roll in here in about 3 1/2 weeks.  Whether I have everything done or not, it will come.  If everyone gets fed at the reception will reflect on me but it has been hard to determine how many will be there.   Two churches are involved since Bill is a pastor and Caleb's dad is a pastor.  We just have to pretty much hope there will be enough.  But you know, that's not what it's all about anyway.  The important thing is if those two kids have their license, say their vows, and get pronounced husband and wife.  That's the most important.  Friends and family are nice and we do appreciate them and won't be able to do enough for them for all they have done for our kids.  They still won't make a difference any way at all as to whether &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Katie and Caleb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; are married.  You know, I could sweat the small stuff and worry my head off, or, I can give it to the Lord.  After all, He changed water into wine at the first wedding in Cana.  He multiplied the loaves and fishes when He fed the  five thousand.  He can certainly can take care of a few hundred people at a wedding in Clarkesville, even when the woman who planned the wedding is old!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-5336422115065768300?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5336422115065768300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=5336422115065768300' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5336422115065768300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5336422115065768300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2010/10/blogging-and-weddings.html' title='Blogging and weddings'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-7170294135364187589</id><published>2009-09-11T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T16:09:49.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Been Happening?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SqvCanNESqI/AAAAAAAAAQo/7RM1CYqt7ew/s1600-h/USC+pics.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 122px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SqvCanNESqI/AAAAAAAAAQo/7RM1CYqt7ew/s320/USC+pics.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380607942280366754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SqvCPCHV-QI/AAAAAAAAAQg/pJMygFDXFJs/s1600-h/insignia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 127px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SqvCPCHV-QI/AAAAAAAAAQg/pJMygFDXFJs/s320/insignia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380607743345686786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SqvCDRAl5NI/AAAAAAAAAQY/0furpm40kO4/s1600-h/apples.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 93px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SqvCDRAl5NI/AAAAAAAAAQY/0furpm40kO4/s320/apples.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380607541185471698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't blogged in so long, I really don't even know where to start.  For a long time time, I had my heart in doing this.  I think when this  summer came,  a friend and I started totally renovating our library at school and I was at Georgia Mountains Christian Academy everyday purging books, checking books for appropriateness,barcoding etc.  It consumed me for a few weeks and I totally lost focus.  I haven't even been reading my friends blogs and that is unusual.  Well, the library got finished and we had a few weeks before school began.  I ended up having to go to Emory several days for tests and that with other responsibilities took up the rest of the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School started August 10th.  Last year I was Senora Cashion, la maestra de Espanol, but now I am the "Media Specialist" which was known as the librarian in my days of school.  I love being in the library.  I work with K-3 - 5th grade.  I love my K-3 and K-4 classes who come to the library together.  They always ask me if they can sit "in my WAP."  Of course, I let them.  One even got mixed up and called me "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Mrs. Fashion"&lt;/span&gt; instead of Mrs. Cashion.   I liked that a lot and am thinking of making that my official name.  I am not sure if Bill will like being Mr. Fashion though.  They are just the sweetest children and I have been truly blessed to teach them beginning library skills even at age 3 and 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to an early fall vacation the 2nd week in October.  That's when we go to our condo at Myrtle Beach.  It's a wonderful time of year to go.  We always have warm days and cool nights.  I love that time of year.  I have been blessed to be able to take that time off from school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are experiencing a little sadness in our family as we see Bill's dad and mom go downhill health-wise.  His dad, especially, is getting weaker and weaker everyday.&lt;br /&gt;We try to see  my in laws as much as possible.  Bill's mom has macular degeneration  and can barely see at all.  She tries to take care of Mr. C. and it is hard for her to see.  He even has to be fed now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, my niece, Lisa, who had colon cancer, has seen the cancer return as she recently learned it had metastasized in her thorax.  She is presently undergoing chemo every two weeks.  It is making her terribly sick and she is starting to lose her hair.  We are sad to see her go through this. She is only 50 years of age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as not to end this on a sad note, I must say that we are so glad we are into football season and are ready for this to be "the SEASON of ALL SEASONS" for the Gamecocks.  This week is the USC/GA game.  We await that game with fear and trembling.....but with confidence.LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-7170294135364187589?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7170294135364187589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=7170294135364187589' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7170294135364187589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7170294135364187589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/09/whats-been-happening.html' title='What&apos;s Been Happening?'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SqvCanNESqI/AAAAAAAAAQo/7RM1CYqt7ew/s72-c/USC+pics.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-1030443356846573995</id><published>2009-05-11T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T06:39:38.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking About Family</title><content type='html'>I am feeling very nostalgic this morning.  We had another Mother's day yesterday.  My Mom has been gone for 4 1/2 years but I missed her as much yesterday as if she had just passed yesterday.  I am so glad I had a mother who was so lovable.  She was so funny.  We laughed all the time.  She could get so tickled at the slightest thing.  I could tell story after story of her and how many silly things she did and times we got so tickled we almost wet our pants.  My, I loved that woman. Thanks for the wonderful memories, Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy, Missy and Katie, the loves of my life, continue to make me so proud.  They are all super busy young women.  Each one makes me so proud.  I don't see Amy and Missy as much as I would like but they are in my heart everyday as I pray for them.  God has blessed me with three talented and wonderful daughters.  They are also fantastic mothers themselves and live very busy lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My seven granddaughters, Morgan, Madyson, Ashlyn, McKenna,Bailey, Avery and Quinn are so precious to me.  Morgan and Madyson are doing such "teenage things" and I love reading their Facebook posts as they pass through one crisis after another with the "boy problems' etc.  They are so busy with school.  McKenna is playing soccer. She is so tall and slender.  She is going to be a great athlete.  All the rest of the girls are busy with all kinds of things.  Avery and Bailey cheered for UPWARD sports.  Ashlyn is busy trying to mimic her older sisters.  Quinn is potty training and talking her mom's ear off.  They are all so unique and I love them dearly.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sisters, Lib and Martha,  are my sounding boards when I need advice and believe me, I call them regularly.  We have always been close and have gotten even closer since the death of our Mom.  I love them so much.  Each of us have gone through our series of health problems this year.  It has been good to have each other to lean on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family is so important.  I hope we never lose that bond.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-1030443356846573995?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1030443356846573995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=1030443356846573995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/1030443356846573995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/1030443356846573995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/05/thinking-about-family.html' title='Thinking About Family'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-1206380739812756123</id><published>2009-03-28T12:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T13:19:18.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainy Day Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;    &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/Sc5-xO37LzI/AAAAAAAAAQI/TVsi_EcSK5E/s1600-h/mban486l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 311px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/Sc5-xO37LzI/AAAAAAAAAQI/TVsi_EcSK5E/s320/mban486l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318327594242486066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/Sc55PRRWb-I/AAAAAAAAAQA/9fnI1w1kl0s/s1600-h/tn_cg49a5003be47b70.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 125px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/Sc55PRRWb-I/AAAAAAAAAQA/9fnI1w1kl0s/s320/tn_cg49a5003be47b70.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318321513212309474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;                                                   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have managed to treat this rainy Saturday just like we would if it were SNOW.  I have been lazy.  All we have wanted to do is eat.  We have eaten SOOO much.  I made sausage, biscuits and gravy for breakfast.  About 1 p.m. Bill said he was hungry again so I made hamburger steaks with peppers and onions and baked sweet potatoes.  Then, as if I needed them, Bill brought me a handful of jelly beans.  I don't know what has gotten into us.   It has been fun but we will pay for it when we get on the scales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/Sc54_Wm2KoI/AAAAAAAAAP4/qsukUI1p4ts/s1600-h/mban189l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/Sc54_Wm2KoI/AAAAAAAAAP4/qsukUI1p4ts/s320/mban189l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318321239766739586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;                                                                                  The DREADED DIET THING has not been getting to my brain lately.  I have gained about 8 lbs. of my weight back.  It takes so long to lose it and it can be gained back in just a few meals. (okay, well, they were pretty high in calorie.)  Anyway, the point is, we better not have many more rainy days.  We'll weigh 400 lbs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-1206380739812756123?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1206380739812756123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=1206380739812756123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/1206380739812756123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/1206380739812756123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/rainy-day-blog.html' title='Rainy Day Blog'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/Sc5-xO37LzI/AAAAAAAAAQI/TVsi_EcSK5E/s72-c/mban486l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-8341537692412288586</id><published>2009-03-15T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T18:36:44.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kristy's Book</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;My niece, Kristy Dempsey, has written a new children's book that will be out on May 14, 2009.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;See the trailer on my blog.  You can pre-order on Amazon.com.  Kristy and her husband, Demps, are missionaries in Belo Horizonte, Brazil.  The book is precious and would make a good gift for any child.  Take a look at the trailer and look at the beautiful artwork.  you won't be disappointed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-8341537692412288586?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8341537692412288586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=8341537692412288586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/8341537692412288586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/8341537692412288586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/kristys-book.html' title='Kristy&apos;s Book'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-6473725299554545965</id><published>2009-02-25T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T17:26:39.000-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday/field trip'/><title type='text'>El Campesino II - the B-day-field trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Well, we went on  the  field trip.  I made it  but looking back on it, I don't know how I did it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;The day started out great.  We had a little time before the ninth graders and I left for lunch at El Campesino.  We had a nice little conversation about various things.  I really enjoyed talking to them and am constantly surprised at how much they know about what's going on in the community.  Anyway, 11 a.m. rolled around and they were anxious to go.  They were hungry.  I was still a little apprehensive about going.  I don't know why.  I just really wanted someone else with me.  Bill was going to go but he ended up going to the evangelism conference in Flowery Branch.  Headmaster John Mooneyham was going to go but he ended up in the hospital with a terrible viral infection and pneumonia.  Sooooo, I was going into the lions den by myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;We got to the restaurant and the kids were great.  They all took their places and dove into the chips and salsa like they never had a bite of anything in their life.  We just had a real good time.  A man from our church came in with a friend and we greeted them.   We all enjoyed our chicken nachos, cheese dip, chimichangas and there was hardly a morsel of anything left on tanybody's plate.   At the end of our meal, I was trying to find out if the kids were going to order dessert.....all of a sudden here came two of the waiters with a gigantic fried ice cream covered in whipped cream and caramel sauce and a great big Mexican sombrero for me to wear.   A couple of girls clued them in that it was my birthday (not really til Friday) and they began to sing a LLLOOONNNGGG Spanish birthday tune. All the while one of the waiters was spoon-feeding me whipped cream.  They finished that song and started in on the very familar "happy birthday to you" and all of a sudden  when it got to the part "happy birthday, dear Kathy, one of the waiters picked up that fried ice cream, dripping with whipped cream and caramel sauce and pushed right into my face.  It took me by such surprise that I got hysterical.  The man from our church was dying laughing.   He said  he wished he had brought his camera.  I was a mess.  The kids had known all along that this is what they do at El Campesino to celebrate birthdays.  I had never heard this and we have been to El Camp a gazillion times.  Oh well, I tried to be a good sport.  The kids loved it.  It made it VERY memorable for me.  Hope you enjoy these pictures from my most  fun birthday/field trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-6473725299554545965?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6473725299554545965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=6473725299554545965' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/6473725299554545965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/6473725299554545965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/el-campesino-11-b-dayfield-trip.html' title='El Campesino II - the B-day-field trip'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-8978454094109500570</id><published>2009-02-18T10:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T11:57:15.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Habla Espanol?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SZxixECpY3I/AAAAAAAAAN8/RZy-JuU19HU/s1600-h/ellogo2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 171px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SZxixECpY3I/AAAAAAAAAN8/RZy-JuU19HU/s320/ellogo2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304223056173556594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;As many of you know, I have been teaching Spanish at Georgia Mountains Christian Academy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;I have a great bunch of kids (for the most part)  I haven't quite figured out if the middle schoolers are great or not. Right now I just look at them as a bunch of gigglers who get on my nerves a little bit. They are pretty sweet but most days I am one big " class, be quiet now" teacher . (or worse!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Next week I am celebrating my birthday so we decided to incorporate that with a trip for the high school Spanish class to a Mexican restaurant.  Of course, in my mind, I am thinking it will be an all Spanish speaking trip.  They will "&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;pedir"&lt;/span&gt;  in Spanish.  We will "&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;hablar"&lt;/span&gt;  in Spanish at the "mesa".  They will throw tacos shells  a&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt; "mi"&lt;/span&gt;!  I will duck under the &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;"mesa"&lt;/span&gt;.  They won't have enough &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;"dinero"&lt;/span&gt;, and I will have to &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;"pagar".&lt;/span&gt;  They will tear &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt; "mi Carro"&lt;/span&gt; apart on the way there and back.  I will return to the school never &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;"hacer un viaje"&lt;/span&gt; like this again.  Oh well, it probably won't be this bad.  The worse thing that will probably happen is the Mexican waiters will come out and &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;sing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt; feliz cumpleanos" &lt;/span&gt;to  me in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;"Espanol &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;autentico."  &lt;/span&gt;EE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;EWWW!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt; I will post later and let you know how it went.   &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;!Ojala que pueda reportar un buen viaje!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-8978454094109500570?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8978454094109500570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=8978454094109500570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/8978454094109500570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/8978454094109500570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/habla-espanol.html' title='Habla Espanol?'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SZxixECpY3I/AAAAAAAAAN8/RZy-JuU19HU/s72-c/ellogo2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-957649716600468429</id><published>2009-02-14T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T08:09:30.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love - An everyday thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SZbrVkNDSRI/AAAAAAAAANM/onPuWZUFrwA/s1600-h/s524161913_764163_3618.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 97px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SZbrVkNDSRI/AAAAAAAAANM/onPuWZUFrwA/s320/s524161913_764163_3618.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302684367003535634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SZbsg-v98NI/AAAAAAAAANU/AK84iA2YQxE/s1600-h/hearts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 102px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SZbsg-v98NI/AAAAAAAAANU/AK84iA2YQxE/s320/hearts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302685662619496658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SZbsmbTOWII/AAAAAAAAANc/l5xAsqVBkh8/s1600-h/hearts+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 116px; height: 116px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SZbsmbTOWII/AAAAAAAAANc/l5xAsqVBkh8/s320/hearts+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302685756182911106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill and I were talking this morning about Valentine's Day.  I commented that it seemed like the media had taken over this day too.  It has become so commercial.  I can remember the days when it was a simple day to exchange valentine cards at school, giving your favorite valentine to the one you had a crush on.  Husbands doted on wives and gave them candy and flowers.  It was a sweet, loving day that would sometime jumpstart relationships of school friends and make a day extra special for husbands and wives.  It's nice to have a special day set  aside for paying a little extra attention to one another.  It's true. Everyday should be special if you are with the one you love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice, though, to have one day to do something special or receive a special gift from the one you love. The media has made it a day  that thrives on selling, selling,  selling!  I loved the simpleness of the old Valentine's Day.   This morning we are having a simple Valentine's Day.  Bill gave me a huge basket of flowers, we are watching (his favorite) a Sci-fi movie and tonight I will fix a special dinner for him.  (We chose not to go out and fight the crowds) We are going to keep it simple!  It really isn't that much different from any other Saturday.  We  just enjoy doing things together.  Well, I don't particularly love the blood and guts of the sci-fi movie but long story short, I do it because I love being with Bill.  I love doing some of the things he loves and he loves doing the things I love.....or at least making the sacrifice for each other even if it isn't our favorite.  I am sure when I drag him shopping that he isn't always happy about it but I would never know it.  He sacrifices for  me.  That's the way it is with relationships.  It's a give and take.  I am going to make this day as special as possible for the one I love.  You know what,&lt;br /&gt;I am going to do it Sunday through next Saturday too.  I am not saying that life is always a bed of roses.  Even though there may be spats and differences to deal with, it's fun making up with the one you love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I need to add a little addendum to this blog.  Bill just asked me if I wanted to go out for a late lunch.  he said, "what would you call a late lunch? A DUNCH?   It is such a joy living with this man.  We laugh so much.  But see, this is another little surprise he has for me.  That's the way it should be.  I can't help loving that man of mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-957649716600468429?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/957649716600468429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=957649716600468429' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/957649716600468429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/957649716600468429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-everyday-thing.html' title='Love - An everyday thing'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SZbrVkNDSRI/AAAAAAAAANM/onPuWZUFrwA/s72-c/s524161913_764163_3618.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-7253442512375351627</id><published>2009-02-03T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T07:14:23.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Taxes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SYkWPo3wEcI/AAAAAAAAANE/MGjGdO-6Nws/s1600-h/efin136l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 269px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SYkWPo3wEcI/AAAAAAAAANE/MGjGdO-6Nws/s320/efin136l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298790894503203266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill did our taxes today.  I love that day believe it or not.  I love watching all the moods Bill goes through while doing them.  Sometimes I see him rubbing his brow  in a very pensive type of pose.  Other times he has his head in his hands trying to think of just one more deduction.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sometimes,  though,  he's very vocal.......as in......where is that other electric bill? can you believe we had this much medical expense!  can you understand now where our money goes?  Oh my goodness,  do you know how much we spent on food???? He muddles through everything, puts every cent down, adds and subtracts and multiplies and then does it all over again.  He always stops short of snorting and spitting.  The last few years have been a little better than other years.  At least we have been getting some refund.  Of course, that has to be my favorite part, hearing that world &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;famous declaration, "Guess what?  we're getting ______ back from Federal and ____ back from the State."   Yay!!!!yay, i say!!!! Refunds are nice because it allows to do a little something special that we have wanted to do.  Nobody has asked us if we needed a bailout.  Nobody has asked us  about stimulous packages.  We just have to fare for ourselves.  I kinda like that.  Our God has always met our needs.  He hasn't let us have everything we want but we are very well taken care of.  He "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bailed&lt;/span&gt;"  us out a long time ago.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We don't have to worry for tomorrow because we know He has us in the palm of His hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SYkUFYXgrII/AAAAAAAAAM0/RMszpedGCHQ/s1600-h/8239506ZcheHwCVjz_ph.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SYkUFYXgrII/AAAAAAAAAM0/RMszpedGCHQ/s320/8239506ZcheHwCVjz_ph.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298788519251061890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-7253442512375351627?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7253442512375351627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=7253442512375351627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7253442512375351627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7253442512375351627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/taxes.html' title='Taxes'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SYkWPo3wEcI/AAAAAAAAANE/MGjGdO-6Nws/s72-c/efin136l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-1311815289642069954</id><published>2009-01-27T16:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T17:04:02.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My youngest Granddaughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SX-u7-2ONcI/AAAAAAAAAMs/XMHSUV80_2c/s1600-h/s524161913_955171_7004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 97px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SX-u7-2ONcI/AAAAAAAAAMs/XMHSUV80_2c/s320/s524161913_955171_7004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296144032316929474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SX-uyF0v35I/AAAAAAAAAMk/YBxUSscrFIk/s1600-h/n524161913_605146_8891.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SX-uyF0v35I/AAAAAAAAAMk/YBxUSscrFIk/s320/n524161913_605146_8891.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296143862391103378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Our youngest granddaughter, Quinn,  will be 2 on February 3.  She is the cutest little thing.  I remember when she first said Meme.  It made me so happy...especially, since she had been saying Papa forever.  It is so neat watching them develop their personality.  Quinn has three older sisters so she has had some &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:webdings;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;role models&lt;/span&gt;" with her daily.  They have all taught her a thing or two.  She is learning to be a little deceptive, even at age 2.  Amy, our daughter, said that every time something goes wrong or she gets hurt, she says Avery did it.  Avery is next in line to Quinn's age.  Avery was sick the other day and was lying on the sofa with a fever.  Quinn came into the living room and said, MAAAMAAA, Avery hit me!  Well, it was very evident to Amy that Avery hadn't done anything. She was really sick.  Quinn just had to have attention at that moment so she fabricated a story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;  She is still the cutest thing I know of.  She is growing up all too fast.  I guess I have to wait around for Katie to have a baby one day so that we can watch another baby grow up.   I wonder how long that will be???????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-1311815289642069954?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1311815289642069954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=1311815289642069954' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/1311815289642069954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/1311815289642069954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-youngest-granddaughter.html' title='My youngest Granddaughter'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SX-u7-2ONcI/AAAAAAAAAMs/XMHSUV80_2c/s72-c/s524161913_955171_7004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-5290512128013755879</id><published>2009-01-24T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T16:23:48.494-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's hard, ain't it Ms. Cashion?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Wouldn't it be great to have a day that you didn't have to take care of any kind of problem, didn't have anyone complaining, didn't have any kind of heartache at all?  It seems an impossibility.  Maybe that's not the way it is supposed to be?   God is as much in control of one day as He is another.  He is never going to let anything happen to us that we can't learn from .  These things are brought into our lives to make us stronger.  I don't always "get the message" that I am supposed to get from difficult times.  A very long time ago a little girl taught me something.  I was substitute teaching at an elementary school in our  area.  It was the type of area where everybody knew most everybody else.  Bill was pastor of a church and we were well-acquainted with most of the members in a neighboring church.  We had been praying for a member of the neighboring church, a young married man who struggling with health issues.  Long story short, this young man in his 30's passed away.  The day after the young man was buried, I went to substitute teach for the kindergarten at the school.  As soon as I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;walked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; in I realized that the man's daughter who had died was in that class.  I thought, "well, maybe she won't come."  Secretly, I wished she wouldn't.  I guess I thought I  might have to deal with a child who was distraught and maybe would end up crying during the class.  As I was preparing for the class, I looked up briefly as some kids came in the room consoling the little girl whose Dad had died.  She wasn't crying, though.  She was being very receptive the child-like love the other kids were giving her.  It was a sweet time to see &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;kindergartners&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; give love in the only way they knew how----making her smile.  As she walked toward me, I took her by the hand and said, "honey, I am so sorry about your daddy."  She said, "that's o.k. Ms. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cashion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;.  Life's hard, ain't it?"    You know, she was repeating something that,  I am sure,  someone had said to her.  It's the truth.  LIFE IS HARD sometimes.  How we handle it comes from how closely we are walking with the Lord.  We can blame God or someone else for our problems but in the long run that resolves nothing.  We just have to face those hard times and say "Lord, I cannot do this without you."  We &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;DON't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; have to do anything.  He has said that he will bear our burdens for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I am at this moment giving Him something that is on my heart.  He wants it.  I know He does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I have felt Him tug at my heart all day. Life's hard, ain't it? Oh yes, it can be!    Praise His holy name He takes our burdens.  It AIN'T nearly as hard after that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-5290512128013755879?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5290512128013755879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=5290512128013755879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5290512128013755879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5290512128013755879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/lifes-hard-aint-it-ms-cashion.html' title='Life&apos;s hard, ain&apos;t it Ms. Cashion?'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-4057714265075005881</id><published>2009-01-14T20:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T20:38:41.752-08:00</updated><title type='text'>25 Random Things About Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" class="note_header"&gt;&lt;div class="note_title_share clearfix"&gt;&lt;div class="note_title"&gt;&lt;span&gt;25 Random Things About Me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Daughter, Amy, tagged me to come up with 25 random things about myself that not many people know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; So, Here goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 1.  I ate dirt when I was a little girl.......out of the flowerpots.....with a spoon.  I got lots of spankings for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 2. I thought my middle name was spelled D-i-a-n-e- until not too many years ago when I looked at my birth certificate and it was D-i-a-n-n-e.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 3.  I have sung alto since I was in the sixth grade and was in Mrs. CLeveland's class.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 4.  I thought you pronounced navel like nable and chimney like chimley until I was almost a teenager.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 5.  When Bill was six years old, he told his Uncle Bob that he was going to marry me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 6. I grabbed the nurse and choked her and threatened to kill her when I was about to deliver Missy and they turned off the anesthesia and I immediately dilated to 10 and she said she couldn't turn it back on without an authorization from the doctor. NOT THE RIGHT THING TO SAY!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 7. The first time Amy brought Jeff to our house before they were married, I was sitting in the floor playing with Katie and I "tooted" in Jeff's face. OOOH!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 8. Also, I ran out of the bathroom (we only had one bathroom )dressed only in my slip and just as I did, Jeff came walking in to go in the bathroom. He still married Amy, even though she has a looney mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 9. I walked out of the The Summit in Houston one time, which is located on a hill, lost my footing, fell and rolled ALLLLL TTTHHHEE WWWAAAYYY down the hill and landed under a gigantic marquis at the feet of the Japanese President of the Baptist World Alliance who was there taking pictures. Embarrassing!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 10. Speaking of falling, I fell out the door of our second church the first Sunday Bill was there to preach a "trial sermon". It was raining......you know the rest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 11.I saw a UFO many times in North Carolina and my little neighbor called the radio station and told them and the whole news department, camera crew, lights...bright lights etc. showed up on my front lawn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 12.When we took Amy to visit her college, Katie was a baby and as we entered the financial aid office Katie did in her diaper what babies do, and I went to change her since it stunk up the whole room. I stood up from my chair, stepped on my slip and it hit the floor and I waddled to the restroom with it around my ankles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 13. I caused my sister, Martha, to burn her arm badly when I pushed her and she laid her arm on a hot burner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 14. I went to Girl's State when I was in High School.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 15.  Bill and I were voted Top Teenagers our senior year in High School.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 16. My mama and I went to a sports store and bought my brother-in-law some wadding to make bullets and we were so tickled having to ask for wads that we couldn't even say it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 17.  I had REALLY green hair one time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 18.  I once went on a blind date with the son of the President of Phillips Petroleum....he was a jerk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 19.  I once cried out to a pharmacist when we adopted Katie, that I had just had a baby and didn't know I was going to have one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 20. I once had a lady in Venezuela squirt breast milk in my face (with her breast) to prove to me that she was a breast-feeding mother because she wanted some free powdered milk that only went to lactating mothers.....not nice!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 21. I once sat on a lounge chair WITH Frankie Valli of the group The Four Seasons on which The Jersey Boys is based. We had our picture made together. Tee Hee! I had my arm on his leg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 22. My junior year in high school, I was a cheerleader. I had a brand new white corduroy skirt and jacket on and as we ran in front of the football team as the game was going to start, I fell in the mud...red mud...head to toe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 23. I designed and crosstitched an outline of the country of Costa Rica and many replicas of things found in COsta Rica to present to the Baptist Mission when left there and went to Venezuela.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 24. I took care of Maggie and Charlie for five weeks when they were 9 years old while they waited on Martha and Tim to come adopt them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; 25. I married Bill after having been in all 12 grades together and being in love with him for most of my life. Really. That's True.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-4057714265075005881?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/4057714265075005881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=4057714265075005881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/4057714265075005881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/4057714265075005881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/25-random-things-about-me.html' title='25 Random Things About Me'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-2054744371222066962</id><published>2009-01-10T17:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T18:34:38.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why is it so Hard? and Other Random Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SWlaSfabcVI/AAAAAAAAALw/pthvvCP7PfM/s1600-h/lzi081227.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 292px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SWlaSfabcVI/AAAAAAAAALw/pthvvCP7PfM/s320/lzi081227.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289858511039852882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Why is it so hard for me to take my Christmas decorations down?  I love putting them up,  but I hate taking them down.  Do you think I secretly have a desire for Christmas to last year around?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;It's possible.  It could be that I hate taking them downstairs or having Bill do it for me.  I can't hardly do it.  I am not steady on my feet these days because of the neuropothy.  Bill has suffered with back pains for days now and won't go to the doctor.  So, the stuff still sits in the kitchen waiting for the good fairy to take it down to storage.  I really need to go down to storage and weed out a lot of decorations that I no longer need or are broken.  That is just not fun to me.  Maybe one day I will get a burst of energy and do it.  I don't even know why I am saying all this.  I felt like rattling on about something and this was a topic that I chose.  Just humor me and read it and say to yourself,                                                                        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; "Self, Kathy Cashion has lost her nutty mind."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;On to another subject.   We went to Longhorn tonight and the people were standing outside, in the rain,  waiting to go in so we didn't stay.  We ate Chinese.  Both of us have not been sticking to our diet.  Oh well, maybe we will diet again tomorrow.   (Procrastination Big Time!!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span id="heading_2_wrapper"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2_wrapper"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2_wrapper"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2_wrapper"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2_wrapper"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2_wrapper"&gt;&lt;span id="heading_2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;THOSE WHO GET TOO BIG FOR THEIR BRITCHES, WILL BE EXPOSED IN THE END.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(That is the motto I live by daily.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I want it to snow so badly.  I just want ONE really good snow.  I want it to be on a school day and I want to have all the fixings for some good Shrimp Chowder on hand.  I love looking out my back windows on a snow covered yard.  I could stare at it for hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;A snowflake is one of God's most fragile creations, but look what they can do when they stick together!  ~Author Unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowmen fall from heaven...&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt; unassembled&lt;/span&gt;.  ~Author Unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Katie's car is waiting to go to the car doctor.  It needs $650.00 worth of work.  The wheel bearing is bad and it leaks power steering fluid, so Dr. Mechanic Steve will get it next week when the part comes in and fix it.  I am pretty sure, being the Ziggy that I am, something else will breakdown soon.  It always does. :(    If you need cheering up, you better call someone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SWlY60AcBnI/AAAAAAAAALo/eRSWQ0Gxcx4/s1600-h/pha0253l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SWlY60AcBnI/AAAAAAAAALo/eRSWQ0Gxcx4/s320/pha0253l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289857004739495538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-family: courier new; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well, that's about all of the gloom and doom that I can muster up.  Actually, I have more but I don't want to overwhelm my readers. LOL :)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-2054744371222066962?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2054744371222066962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=2054744371222066962' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/2054744371222066962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/2054744371222066962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-is-it-so-hard-and-other-random.html' title='Why is it so Hard? and Other Random Stuff'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SWlaSfabcVI/AAAAAAAAALw/pthvvCP7PfM/s72-c/lzi081227.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-9139754087049168751</id><published>2008-11-12T07:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T08:15:04.648-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Songs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SRsA1v4-OwI/AAAAAAAAALY/adJ4px1xTdo/s1600-h/of+music+notes+2.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 105px; height: 140px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SRsA1v4-OwI/AAAAAAAAALY/adJ4px1xTdo/s320/of+music+notes+2.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267805112528419586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SRsAr8d8WRI/AAAAAAAAALQ/qlbAOHawNL0/s1600-h/of+music+notes.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 114px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SRsAr8d8WRI/AAAAAAAAALQ/qlbAOHawNL0/s320/of+music+notes.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267804944106019090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;I have been thinking today of crazy songs and songs in general.  We have always been singers in our family.  Now, this doesn't mean we can sing but we didn't care.  We sang anyway.  When Amy and Missy were young we always enjoyed singing and watching tapes of people singing.  We especially enjoyed singing at night when the girls first went to bed.  It was kind of a ritual that we would sing Bill Gaither's kids song "I am a Promise."  My favorite time, though, was when I would start to leave their bedroom, They  would demand that I  sing every song that we knew about "goodnight".  There was one that was famous from the Lawrence Welk Show. (I know, you don't know who Lawrence Welk is)  It said, "Good night, sleep tight and pleasant dreams to you, Here's a wish and a prayer that every dream comes true, So now til we meet again, Adios, Au Revoir, Auf wie dersehn......Goodnight!"    They loved that song.  I even choreographed a little dance to it.  Then there was the standards "Lullaby and Goodnight" and  "Angels Watching Over You".  But this one was the kicker.  It was an old Perry Como song, "I Love You and Don't You Forget it."  Do you know that my girls are teaching my grandchildren these same songs?  They sang "I Love you a Bushel and a Peck" when they were wee little things.  How many of you know this one?    Mareseatoatsanddoeseatoatsandlittlelambseativy?Wow, if you say it fast it comes out like that.  If you say it slow, it comes out like:  Mares eat oats and does (long "o") eat oats and little lambs eat ivy, a kid'll eat ivy too, wouldn't you?  They always laughed so loud when we sang that one.  I love silly songs.  I love even more that they are being carried down to another generation?  Amy, our oldest daughter, always loved the song Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, there's just something about that name.  That wasn't a silly song but it was a wonderful song that taught her "Jesus"  is the sweetest name you'll ever know.  Singing was such a vital part of our girls growing up.  It created happy times to sit around and sing, make up songs, learn to keep time to music etc.  Our girls have told me that they never forgot those times.  After we adopted Katie, we carried on that tradition every night.  She had about five favorite silly songs she loved for me to sing as I left her bedroom at night.  She loves those songs even now.  Happy memories.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-9139754087049168751?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/9139754087049168751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=9139754087049168751' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/9139754087049168751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/9139754087049168751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/11/crazy-songs.html' title='Crazy Songs'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SRsA1v4-OwI/AAAAAAAAALY/adJ4px1xTdo/s72-c/of+music+notes+2.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-602568082204788977</id><published>2008-10-08T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T06:42:58.965-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day Amy was Born</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOy40k7jRhI/AAAAAAAAAK4/JY1lj0svqSs/s1600-h/s524161913_311983_8686.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOy40k7jRhI/AAAAAAAAAK4/JY1lj0svqSs/s320/s524161913_311983_8686.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254778078640686610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOy2VfxXAeI/AAAAAAAAAKo/B_uZEkpb0R4/s1600-h/s524161913_841239_8539.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOy2VfxXAeI/AAAAAAAAAKo/B_uZEkpb0R4/s320/s524161913_841239_8539.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254775345656562146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is our first-born daughters birthday.  October 8, 1973,  Amy Denise &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cashion&lt;/span&gt; was born to us. We were only 24 years old when she came into the world.  Bill was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pastoring&lt;/span&gt; his first church in New Hill, North Carolina.  We were so young, so scared and inexperienced.    I can remember the first few days after we came home from the hospital we handled her like she was a fragile doll (the doll part was right)  We didn't want to break her.  It wasn't long before we realized that she wasn't breakable.  Amy was only two weeks old.  I was in the kitchen cooking dinner.  Bill was lying on the sofa with a terrible headache.  We still were  in the mindset that SOMEBODY had to be watching Amy at all times.  Bill said, "just put her in her stroller beside the sofa and I will keep an eye on her."  We were such novices.  It wasn't that she was going to get up and run away.  Well, actually, she almost did.  Even at two weeks old, Amy could have some really good temper tantrums.  She was long in body length and she could stretch that body out stiff as a board when she was mad.  That particular night when I was cooking and Bill had the headache, she chose to pitch a fit.  Strollers weren't like they are today-all enclosed.  You could let the back of the seat down and it was open behind.  All of a sudden as she stiffened those little legs out and screamed bloody murder, I heard Bill yell real loud and she had done a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;backflip&lt;/span&gt; out the back of that stroller.&lt;br /&gt;She wasn't hurt at all.  Of course were devastated that it had happened.  It certainly taught us one thing - she wasn't as fragile as we thought.  She was a tough cookie.  From that time on we made sure she couldn't flip out the back of that stroller but we sure had to let her scream a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hard for us to believe that today - October 8, 2008, she has matured.  She no longer kicks and screams when she doesn't get her way.  (I don't think she does!)  She has matured into a beautiful Christian woman and pastor's wife.  She is a Bible teacher and loves the Lord with all heart.  God is so good.  Amy is the mother of four of our grandchildren, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;McKenna&lt;/span&gt;, Bailey, Avery and Quinn,  and wife to Jeffery.  Jeffery is pastor at Life Song Church in Lyman, SC.  God is blessing their ministry and their church with growth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that this is a very special day for you, Amy.  It has been a fast 35 years.  Continue serving God.  Continue being a blessing to those you serve.  Continue loving the Lord God with all your heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-602568082204788977?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/602568082204788977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=602568082204788977' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/602568082204788977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/602568082204788977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/10/day-amy-was-born.html' title='The Day Amy was Born'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOy40k7jRhI/AAAAAAAAAK4/JY1lj0svqSs/s72-c/s524161913_311983_8686.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-4810017682565397698</id><published>2008-09-30T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T18:03:50.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why is Meme so silly?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOJcKPdC4vI/AAAAAAAAAHs/qpZkxcCYBq4/s1600-h/n512758773_397933_2782.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251861446484222706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOJcKPdC4vI/AAAAAAAAAHs/qpZkxcCYBq4/s200/n512758773_397933_2782.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just grandchild crazy. I think after all these years, I just suddenly realized what a nut I am when my grandchildren do the least little neat thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember when my kids were growing up that we called my Mom and told her everything they did because we loved to hear her cackle. She was a laugh-er.&lt;br /&gt;O.K., this is all making sense to me now. I am a cackler. It's Mom's fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Amy and I talked on the phone and she shared with me that one and half year old Quinn had finally started saying "Meme". I said, "uh-uh!!!" She said, "yes, she does, LISTEN. Oh yeah, she said it. I screamed bloody murder and Bill came running in here to see if I had a cardio-infarction. (tee-hee) She is saying (or at least trying to say everything that everybody tells her to now. She loves getting chuckles. "Little Miss Show-Off!! She even tries to say GAMECOCKS! (cock-cocks) Anyway, I got to thinking how much I have loved the little advancements my grandchildren make and I am going to scream every time. They think I am super silly and I think they like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLKApPBLwI/AAAAAAAAAJM/x5nLHJU0Ay0/s1600-h/morgan.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251982227885076226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLKApPBLwI/AAAAAAAAAJM/x5nLHJU0Ay0/s200/morgan.jpg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love that Morgan , my oldest grandchild is excelling at Volleyball. She's tall and beautiful and likes BOYS!! NO, that can't be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLLE6deHYI/AAAAAAAAAJc/DfBXLOzsUtI/s1600-h/Madyson.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251983400740199810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLLE6deHYI/AAAAAAAAAJc/DfBXLOzsUtI/s320/Madyson.jpg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love that Madyson, is a cheerleader at her school. You Go Madyson! She's a beautiful girl too. She is a blondie with a cute figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLIsHufO0I/AAAAAAAAAJE/GFLqe2FsamQ/s1600-h/ashlyn.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251980775781251906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLIsHufO0I/AAAAAAAAAJE/GFLqe2FsamQ/s200/ashlyn.jpg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love that Ashlyn is such a good singer and is so loving to me. She is my beauty who I often call "Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm" with her cute freckles. She just recently accepted Christ as her SAVIOR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLIdU7wvcI/AAAAAAAAAIs/R4lFXwamVzM/s1600-h/kenna.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251980521628548546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLIdU7wvcI/AAAAAAAAAIs/R4lFXwamVzM/s200/kenna.jpg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love that McKenna is doing great in her all female class at school. She is gorgeous and is such a helpful girl. She can cook, clean and take care of Quinn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLIiePaUDI/AAAAAAAAAI0/5B_9Yu-hMf8/s1600-h/bailey.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251980610026229810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLIiePaUDI/AAAAAAAAAI0/5B_9Yu-hMf8/s200/bailey.jpg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love that Bailey always cares about how she looks. She is destined for the fashion world. She is beautiful too, inside and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLImWN0NeI/AAAAAAAAAI8/JKIx9z1IUFM/s1600-h/avery.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251980676591531490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLImWN0NeI/AAAAAAAAAI8/JKIx9z1IUFM/s200/avery.jpg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love that Avery is so mischievous and can do anything she tries to do. She is so funny. I have laughed at her all her life. She is such a cutie with her perky personality. One little side note- McKenna, Bailey and Avery led one of their neighbor girls to the Lord. That made me so happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLIOlvoYRI/AAAAAAAAAIU/vh_mqNDSuGU/s1600-h/quinn.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251980268443033874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOLIOlvoYRI/AAAAAAAAAIU/vh_mqNDSuGU/s200/quinn.jpg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then lastly, there is Quinn. She is full of life, exploring all around the house.&lt;br /&gt;She is a teaser and really knows how, at one and 1/2 years, to totally wrap you around her finger. That's o.k. I love it. Hey, Have I told you she can say Meme?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-4810017682565397698?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/4810017682565397698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=4810017682565397698' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/4810017682565397698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/4810017682565397698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/09/why-is-meme-so-silly.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;Why is Meme so silly?&lt;/strong&gt;'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SOJcKPdC4vI/AAAAAAAAAHs/qpZkxcCYBq4/s72-c/n512758773_397933_2782.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-4990054209750033178</id><published>2008-09-25T05:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T17:06:06.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is it about fall?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuL1hxgecI/AAAAAAAAAHk/7tQlWB9MTDs/s1600-h/colors+of+fall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuL1hxgecI/AAAAAAAAAHk/7tQlWB9MTDs/s200/colors+of+fall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249943542345791938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuLtOt7ShI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Vqrz7jQO5Bg/s1600-h/Pumpkins+and+leaves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuLtOt7ShI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Vqrz7jQO5Bg/s200/Pumpkins+and+leaves.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249943399791544850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuKiieK_uI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Zv5LBp8lWEY/s1600-h/autumn+leaves.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuKiieK_uI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Zv5LBp8lWEY/s200/autumn+leaves.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249942116603985634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuKa8B93JI/AAAAAAAAAHM/Jeg5cHTyBCg/s1600-h/acpa26.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuKa8B93JI/AAAAAAAAAHM/Jeg5cHTyBCg/s200/acpa26.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249941986026052754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuKRDQx-qI/AAAAAAAAAHE/cOr0G1MlaKw/s1600-h/thumbnail.aspx.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuKRDQx-qI/AAAAAAAAAHE/cOr0G1MlaKw/s200/thumbnail.aspx.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249941816168544930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it about fall that even on the warm days that there is still a hint of autumn in the air?  You can just feel it.  There is nothing better than the colors of autumn and the smells of autumn.  It is my favorite season.  As hot natured as I am, the coolness of autumn gives me hope that I MAY BE COOL AGAIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things I missed when we left in the states in 1985 to go to the mission field was the changing of the leaves.  We got to Costa Rica in December of 1985 to study Spanish for a year before we went to our country of service - Venezuela.  After completing the intense year of study, we were anxious to go on to Caracas, Venezuela.  We were ready to settle down and begin our missions career.  Little did we know that suddenly the doors to Venezuela closed to missionaries and it took another year and 3 months to get our visas cleared to go in.  Needless to say, it was devastating to us.  We had, however, a wonderful ministry while we continued living there to thousands of refugees who had fled Nicaragua because of the war. The time was not lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to fall and my reason for this post.  When our visas weren't granted and we ended up staying so long in CR, I found myself really missing the fall weather that we had in South Carolina.  I especially missed the changing of the leaves. Hailing from the upstate of South Carolina, I grew up loving fall with its smells and colors.&lt;br /&gt;My Mom must have sensed that I was homesick or,  actually, I probably told her a dozen times.  You can imagine my surprise when I went to our post office box one day and pulled out a package from home.  In it, my Mom had sent us fall leaves - beautiful reds, yellows, and oranges all neatly between waxed paper and ironed out in a beautiful collage.  I cried.  It made my day.  I kept those leaves for the longest time.  A little bit of home and a little bit of fall all in one envelope.  What could be better?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-4990054209750033178?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/4990054209750033178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=4990054209750033178' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/4990054209750033178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/4990054209750033178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-is-it-about-fall.html' title='What is it about fall?'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SNuL1hxgecI/AAAAAAAAAHk/7tQlWB9MTDs/s72-c/colors+of+fall.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-6368187320223342428</id><published>2008-09-05T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T07:07:42.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Does Time Go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SMHQSeZbgII/AAAAAAAAAG8/fuOROqyUDco/s1600-h/s524161913_605184_3803.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SMHQSeZbgII/AAAAAAAAAG8/fuOROqyUDco/s200/s524161913_605184_3803.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242700457051914370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SMHOSa_et9I/AAAAAAAAAG0/cehT8m7FA8A/s1600-h/s598535282_996729_233.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SMHOSa_et9I/AAAAAAAAAG0/cehT8m7FA8A/s200/s598535282_996729_233.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242698257114511314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to hear my Mom say, "Don't wait to do that.  Time passes so fast"  She often said that after she turned 50, time seemed to fly by.  I can relate to that.  Today our middle daughter, Missy,  turned 33.  I can remember so vividly when she was born.  But, let me back up a little.  I became pregnant with Missy in 1975.  Even though this pregnancy wasn't planned, it had gone great.  I had no morning sickness.  Actually, I used both  my pregnancies as an excuse to eat. (for which I am still paying for until this day.)  Remembering back to one particular day of that pregnancy this comes to mind:  I had worked at the NC Dept. of Revenue and returned to work for about 3 months after our first daughter, Amy, was born.  I had made lots of friends at the Revenue Dept. and one Saturday decided to go up and visit one of my revenue friends  for the day.  We had a great visit but toward the end of it, I began to cramp so much but only in one side of my stomach.  I told my friend that I had better go because I felt like I was going to be sick.  It was only about 5 miles back to my house.  When I got home and pulled in the carport, I could not even get out of the car.  I was in horrific pain.  I literally leaned over the horn and blew it to get Bill's attention to come out and get me.  Being 3 months pregnant brought so much to mind that the pain  could be.  I thought about tubal pregnancy.  "Was I miscarrying?"  I told Bill that I had to go to the hospital.  By then, I had begun to vomit and was in such pain that I could not even stand straight.  When we got to the hospital, the doctors did blood work and examinations to try to determine the source.&lt;br /&gt;The doctor came in looking pretty somber and said the blood work showed elevated white count but that even still, with my being pregnant, they were not able to determine exactly what the problem was.  He told Bill I was going to have to undergo exploratory surgery to determine the exact cause.  Well, that scared me to death.&lt;br /&gt;He said they were going to have to cut me longways down the middle of my stomach.&lt;br /&gt;I was living in the "old days" when they hadn't even heard of laparoscopic surgery.&lt;br /&gt;Long story short, when they got in there, they found that everything was fine with the baby,  but my appendix were about to rupture and that was the problem all along.  &lt;br /&gt;You know, they took those appendix out sewed my tummy back up.  The doctor came in and told us that I more than likely would have some bleeding and there was a slim chance that I would lose the baby.  BUT I DIDN'T!!  She's 33 today.  Can you believe they can cut you open so near to your unborn and take something out and your baby never be harmed?  God must have really wanted me to have her, right? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(Jer. 1:5 "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I set you apart for my holy purpose. I appointed you to be a prophet to the nations.") Jer 29:11 (NIV) "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's fast forward to September 5, 1975, the DAY Missy was born.  I had been in hard labor but had only dilated to a 3 after several hours of being in the hospital.  Finally, though, I reached a point that they said they could give me my epidural.&lt;br /&gt;Well, wouldn't you know it?  As soon as the epidural started, the CONTRACTIONS STOPPED!!!   STOPPED, I SAY!!!  The doctor came in and said,(as he rubbed his head lamely) "I guess I will go on home for dinner and be back in a while to check on you."&lt;br /&gt;About that time I wanted to start screaming "don't leave me."  I DON'T WANT TO HAVE THIS BABY BY MYSELF.  Actually, I wanted to call him some names.....some BBBAAAADDDD names.  Next he said, "I believe while I am gone we will just turn the anesthesia to the epidural off and see if your labor will start back.  And with that, he walked out the door.  It took about as long as it took for him to get to the elevator to go to his car and I started hurting.  He didn't even hear me yell.  His stomach was growling.  Guess what, it took long enough for him to get to his car and "I DILATED TO A 10....10 I say!!!  That's a 10 without anesthesia.  The nurse sent someone to try and catch the doctor.  I was screaming bloody murder with pain.  I hadn't had Lamaze.   I didn't know how to breathe.  In fact, I held my breath.  I screamed for the nurse to &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;TURN THAT ANESTHESIA BACK ON&lt;/span&gt;.  In her nice little "nursey" voice she informed me that she could not do that without a doctor's order.  At that point, the beast came out in me...! I grabbed that NURSEY by the nurses uniform and told her in no uncertain terms that I could care less about orders and that I WAS GOING TO KILL HER IF SHE DIDN"T TURN THAT JUICE BACK ON.  Bill was there with me and he even had a hard time holding me back.  I guess I wasn't really going to kill her.  I just felt like I could.  This is a Christian who is a preacher's wife shouting "kill,kill!!!&lt;br /&gt;You know, I don't remember much after that.  She was born; I didn't have to hurt anybody.  Thirty-three years later, she makes me laugh, makes me cry, blesses me in every way.  I am so glad I didn't have to go to prison after she was born.  It would have been awful for someone else to get to raise her.  I love you Melissa Diane Cashion Bryant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-6368187320223342428?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6368187320223342428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=6368187320223342428' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/6368187320223342428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/6368187320223342428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/09/where-does-time-go.html' title='Where Does Time Go?'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SMHQSeZbgII/AAAAAAAAAG8/fuOROqyUDco/s72-c/s524161913_605184_3803.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-7242685054705149057</id><published>2008-08-15T18:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T18:23:20.314-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He Knows My Name by Maranatha Singers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/hXsiWoyjw60' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/hXsiWoyjw60'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What a joy to know...He Knows My Name.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-7242685054705149057?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7242685054705149057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=7242685054705149057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7242685054705149057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7242685054705149057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/08/he-knows-my-name-by-maranatha-singers.html' title='He Knows My Name by Maranatha Singers'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-5711296711804599224</id><published>2008-08-12T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T07:14:12.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God is Working</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHbKkp8PpI/AAAAAAAAAGk/34JUPUYlL5I/s1600-h/globes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHbKkp8PpI/AAAAAAAAAGk/34JUPUYlL5I/s200/globes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233705216665992850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHaCqcK9PI/AAAAAAAAAGc/VCl_N63eXek/s1600-h/s105601267_30371935_3411.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHaCqcK9PI/AAAAAAAAAGc/VCl_N63eXek/s200/s105601267_30371935_3411.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233703981268268274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHZmzs4LaI/AAAAAAAAAGU/OjjpmGYnkfk/s1600-h/s105601267_30371899_883.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHZmzs4LaI/AAAAAAAAAGU/OjjpmGYnkfk/s200/s105601267_30371899_883.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233703502717922722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHZgH1XQGI/AAAAAAAAAGM/L-iReBf0vsA/s1600-h/s105601267_30371798_3684.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHZgH1XQGI/AAAAAAAAAGM/L-iReBf0vsA/s200/s105601267_30371798_3684.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233703387863138402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHZWae8N1I/AAAAAAAAAGE/0Ww0Serf63Y/s1600-h/s105601267_30371769_1710.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHZWae8N1I/AAAAAAAAAGE/0Ww0Serf63Y/s200/s105601267_30371769_1710.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233703221070673746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As many of you know, Bill and I served for about 13 years as missionaries.  One of the delights of serving a church full time now, is to be allowed to take several overseas volunteer mission trips.  I, personally have not taken one recently, but Bill and Katie have taken several.  They have been back to Venezuela, the country of our mission service several times.  This past month, 20 of our students and adults from Bethlehem Baptist, went for a week to Venezuela, specifically, The Valley of Tuy, which is right outside the capitol city of Caracas, to work in an evangelistic week.  They did door-to-door witnessing, street witnessing, outdoor puppet and drama programs etc.  At night they had meetings in the churches.  It was a very successful week all the way around.  Two Hundred Sixty-Six adults gave their lives  to Christ.  The Venezuelans normally do not count the children  until they have had an opportunity to talk to their parents and talk to the children one-on-one, so, there probably is a much larger number if the children were figured in. God really blessed their time.  Even if one precious person had made a decision for Christ, it would have been worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing all this to say the following:  God is not only working overseas but He is also working in the lives of those who went overseas.  Recently, I asked Bill if he realized how many of our people were contemplating full-time mission service or full-time Christian service, such as pastors, Christian ministry workers etc.  We began counting and we counted, and counted, and counted.  We have at least 12-15 people who have expressed a desire to follow the Lord's leading toward the goals of Christian service.  That just made me want to shout.  God is so good.  I especially have been blessed as I have watched God work in the lives of young people.  He is still working, Folks.   He is still in the business of calling out those whom He wills to special ministry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of our young men, a recent high school graduate, has astounded us with his ambitious approach to missions.  Besides going on trips overseas all the time, he has established a ministry right here in our surrounding community with Hispanics. He began by getting involved in their soccer games.  Then he started sharing Christ with them after the games.  He got involved in their everyday lives.  Last night, sadly, he was with one abused Hispanic Mom as DSS (Department of Social Services) came to take her child to a safe place so that the Mother could find shelter for herself and the baby from the abusive father.  He is already doing missions work.  Nothing deters him.  In the middle of all this, he has learned to speak perfect Spanish.  Wow, what a calling God has placed on his life and DOUBLY WOW, what a wonderful servant he is to the task God has called him to.  This is just one of many testimonies like this.  God is working.  People are answering His call.  Matthew 28:19,20 is being fulfilled.  How exciting!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you pray as you read this for those with whom God is dealing?  These short term mission trips are definitely making a difference in their lives.  Pray that they would continue to be open.  Pray for parents who might not fully understand the depth of a "call" from God.  Some of these kids parents aren't nearly as dedicated to God's work as the kid is.  We serve an amazing God.  He can make them understand.  Pray for the Holy Spirit to surround the students with His presence as many of them begin college for the first time.  The key is to keep them faithful to the Lord as He continues to speak to them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-5711296711804599224?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5711296711804599224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=5711296711804599224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5711296711804599224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5711296711804599224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/08/god-is-working.html' title='God is Working'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SKHbKkp8PpI/AAAAAAAAAGk/34JUPUYlL5I/s72-c/globes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-679819131308017718</id><published>2008-08-08T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T20:29:45.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>L O S I N G</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SJxk6juGc0I/AAAAAAAAAF8/uiS_tNW1LlA/s1600-h/img_hdrHeader.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SJxk6juGc0I/AAAAAAAAAF8/uiS_tNW1LlA/s200/img_hdrHeader.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232167824281465666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SJxkxjezreI/AAAAAAAAAF0/SpK6jII3UUE/s1600-h/losers-club.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SJxkxjezreI/AAAAAAAAAF0/SpK6jII3UUE/s200/losers-club.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232167669598498274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am on another diet.  I say another because I have probably lost and gained more weight in my life than I could count.  As most of you, I recently spent about five months in a wheel chair.  Needless to say, being in the wonderful church we are in, so many delicious meals were brought to me.  Being the person that I am, I JUST HAD to eat everything they brought.  Now, I am not blaming them.  They were wonderful to me.  This is one of the most giving and reaching out churches we have ever been a part of.  I just realized, though, that I am totally undisciplined when it comes to my eating.&lt;br /&gt;  Recently, my grandchildren were here and I overheard one of them call the other a LOSER!  It kind of got to me thinking how those words could hurt.    The more I thought about it, I realized that in my case, I want to be known as a loser.  I want to be a loser in the sense that people can actually SEE what I am losing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After healing and getting out of the wheelchair, I quickly realized (after I tried to walk carrying more weight) that I had to lose.  Normally, I wouldn't want to be a loser.  Now that's all I want to be.  I have been dieting for a month and I have lost 20 lbs.  I am at a point right now that I am at a standstill.  I know I am going to have a day soon, though, that I will lose more weight.  I am doing the South Beach Diet.  It has been one of the easiest I have ever done.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOOOOO, call me LOSER.  That's all right.  I am always going to have the positive thought that you mean that in a nice way.  As the saying goes, "we say the nastiest things in the nicest way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for the first time in my life,  &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I WANT TO BE A LOSER!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-679819131308017718?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/679819131308017718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=679819131308017718' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/679819131308017718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/679819131308017718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/08/l-o-s-i-n-g.html' title='L O S I N G'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SJxk6juGc0I/AAAAAAAAAF8/uiS_tNW1LlA/s72-c/img_hdrHeader.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-8918177759304883163</id><published>2008-08-01T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T19:14:53.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;My sister was challenged by a friend and she now has challenged me to write about five things that I "LOVE".  Narrowing them down to five is hard but not impossible.  I am going to give it a valiant  effort to name them one by one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Jesus.  This what a lot of other people wrote too.  I am praising Him that He  is plenty big enough for me to love, for you to love, for anyone to love and still have a whole lot more love left for everybody else.  His name is love.  I am so glad that I know him as personal Lord and Savior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE&lt;br /&gt;My Family - all of them.  my husband, my girls, my sons-in-law, grandchildren, sisters, in-laws-- What a wonderful thought  to know that right after God made man and woman, He instituted the family.  Families are important to us and to God.  Our church family is included in this.  I also love the memories that I have of my mom and dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  That God is still doing the work of calling those whom chooses to serve in various capacities of His work.  I love the circumstances He uses to get men and women where they need to be and what it joy it is to watch God work in the lives of His children.&lt;br /&gt;Even though it takes some people a long time to realize that calling - He still Calls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I love cherry limeades from Sonic.  I am so hooked on them.  They are light, refreshing, cooling.....even the diet ones that I have been drinking are just the best.  They are a mixture of cherry drink, diet sprite, 3 slices of limes juiced into the mixture with crushed ice and topped with a maraschino cherry.  Love 'em!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE:&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  CROCS. I just bought my first pair of Crocs and they are so comfortable.  I can't believe I didn't have any.  I have already blogged about this.  I am sure that soon it will be some other kind of sandal but today it is CROCS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-8918177759304883163?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8918177759304883163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=8918177759304883163' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/8918177759304883163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/8918177759304883163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/08/things-i-love.html' title='Things I Love'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-7992492077966756630</id><published>2008-07-29T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:22:43.780-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mamma Mia'/><title type='text'>Ladies Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SI8l6kJVP8I/AAAAAAAAAFk/-ZHC6I4Dbcw/s1600-h/32m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SI8l6kJVP8I/AAAAAAAAAFk/-ZHC6I4Dbcw/s200/32m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228439380465893314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SI8lbN2aJPI/AAAAAAAAAFc/x8306o76Lcs/s1600-h/200px-MammaMiaTeaserPoster.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SI8lbN2aJPI/AAAAAAAAAFc/x8306o76Lcs/s200/200px-MammaMiaTeaserPoster.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228438841904997618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just had a great weekend with Katie and my friend, Laurie.  Katie's boyfriend was in "Dial  "M" for Murder over the weekend at the Clemson Little Theater.  I can't believe this Gamecock fan ventured over into enemy territory but I guess it was worth it.  Caleb did a great job as Matt Halliday, the boyfriend of a MARRIED WOMAN, I might add.&lt;br /&gt;Oh the youth of today.... It was a great play and I could tell Katie was eating her heart out to be up there playing Margot Wendice the wife/girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the play, we went to Starbucks and I had a caramel Macchiato...ooohhh, so good.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, ok, So much caffeine my eyes were going BOING, Boing, Boing for a while.  I did tone it down with some SPLENDA.....that doesn't make sense, does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday night, Katie, Laurie and I went to see Mamma Mia.  I am sure Laurie and I embarrassed Katie a few times.  We knew ALL the songs in the movie and found ourselves singing along several times.  Katie was probably the youngest one in the theater.  it was mostly MY AGE and up bee-bopping along to the "Dancing Queen."  It's a must-see movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill is in Venezuela on a mission trip.  I tend to go a little crazy when he is gone.&lt;br /&gt;But, it is all Katie and Laurie's fault. They bring out the Worst/best in me.  Seriously, it was  a great weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-7992492077966756630?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7992492077966756630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=7992492077966756630' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7992492077966756630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7992492077966756630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/07/ladies-weekend.html' title='Ladies Weekend'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SI8l6kJVP8I/AAAAAAAAAFk/-ZHC6I4Dbcw/s72-c/32m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-8383878118624165727</id><published>2008-07-23T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:22:43.982-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just what aching feet need</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SIdHRS4f3TI/AAAAAAAAAFU/CJXAVc6xCjc/s1600-h/crocs.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SIdHRS4f3TI/AAAAAAAAAFU/CJXAVc6xCjc/s200/crocs.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226224255038905650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SIdHKD0Y5II/AAAAAAAAAFM/i-JDRF8ZDcM/s1600-h/feet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SIdHKD0Y5II/AAAAAAAAAFM/i-JDRF8ZDcM/s200/feet.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226224130736055426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those of you who know me, know that my feet have given me trouble for quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;I spent five months in a wheel chair because of an ulcer on the ball of my foot.  It got the dreaded MRSA bacteria in it and refused to get well.  During all that time I was diagnosed with CIDP - Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropothy - all that to say I have very little feeling in my feet up to knees.  That's one reason the ulcer got so bad before I even knew what what was happening.  It was supposed to be very painful and I didn't feel a thing.  Anyway, the ulcer finally healed and even though I felt very little pain in my feet, when the neuropothy flairs up, it is the most painful thing.   Ironic, to say the least!  Long story short, I needed shoes that were going to be easy on my feet and not cause undue pressure on my feet.  I have discovered CROCS.  I purchased a pair and now I don't want to take them off.  They aren't that dressy, although, they do sell wedge-type CROCS.  I just don't wear heels that much.  Yes, this is an advertisement for Crocs.  They are the greatest thing ever for my feet.  Not too dressy, as I say, but every time I can I wear them.  It's all about comfort!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-8383878118624165727?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8383878118624165727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=8383878118624165727' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/8383878118624165727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/8383878118624165727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/07/just-what-aching-feet-need.html' title='Just what aching feet need'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SIdHRS4f3TI/AAAAAAAAAFU/CJXAVc6xCjc/s72-c/crocs.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-6124847797828346746</id><published>2008-07-05T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:22:44.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrate, Celebrate Freedom!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SHAEBrMGCyI/AAAAAAAAAEs/MvmSwr1MC9s/s1600-h/n598545282_1013275_4869.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SHAEBrMGCyI/AAAAAAAAAEs/MvmSwr1MC9s/s200/n598545282_1013275_4869.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219676394942237474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   We had great time on the Fourth of July!  I hope I never take for granted the freedoms we enjoy here in America.  Once you live overseas,  as we did, it makes you so much prouder to be an American.  You don't have to go very far from our homeland to know that people absolutely do not enjoy the freedoms we enjoy.  No matter what country you're in outside the Good Ole' USA, you realize very quickly that Freedom is precious.&lt;br /&gt;   Bill has been preaching a series of sermons entitled "Focus on the Founders". His    exploring back into time and being reminded of the principles this country was founded on is very enlightening.  Although, we still enjoy freedoms that are outlined in The U.S. Constitution, we have strayed far from our root heritage of "in God we trust". God was the very essence of our country and it's founders.  He was  part of everything they did; every basis for decision-making.  These men knew from whom and from where true freedoms lies.  What happens to a country that over time puts God in the background?  God, who is our very source of "BEING" at all.  Well, I believe the answer is that sin runs rampant.  Freedoms begin to be destroyed; begin to be taken away. Little by little, we lose the very things that make us great.  We lose the precious freedom that has brought us to where we are.  Why do we want to become like those countries whose lives are controlled &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;for&lt;/span&gt; them?  Why do we want to give up so easily those things that made us "FREE".  I can remember as a young girl in school  that we prayed at school to start our day.  We prayed before going to the lunchroom for our meals.  We always had the Gideons coming to bring the little New Testaments.....yes, those same little New Testaments that had the Plan of Salvation in the back of them.  Over the years I have heard of many people who actually came to know the "giver of true freedom" through His precious shed blood, just by reading one of those little green New Testaments.  It's hard to believe now that the Gideon's actually could come in the schools and give each student a copy of God's Word.  Teachers actually could invite students to revival meetings at church.  God was given His rightful place in the classroom, just as the Founding Fathers gave Him His rightful place in their everyday life whether it be in their government offices or on the battlefield fighting for our rights as Americans.  What happens to a country who puts in the background the giver of life and freedom?  When a nation forgets God they begin to LOSE:   "LIFE, LIBERTY and the PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS.  Why do we want to lose those rights?  Why do we want food shortages, our privilege to buy, sell and own.  Why do we want to be totally controlled by Godless men and become like people who have to literally fight for the simple things of life.  What makes depravity look so good? It can be summed up in one word...SIN.  Sin makes us lose focus.  Sin can be wrapped in the package of beauty until it skews our ability to think clearly. Sin destroys.  Sin takes away.  Sin kills.  Sin is NOT freedom.  The great evangelist Vance Havner once wrote a sermon entitled "Getting used to the Dark." We are getting used to the dark.  We are so accepting of sin until we become accustomed to it.  It isn't as black as it used to be; it isn't as bad as it used to be.  Has sin changed or have WE?  I dare say it's us.  We are losing our ability to see sin as wrongdoing.  Sin creeps in; we don't see it as wrong anymore; we begin to lose freedoms because our life is controlled by wrong.  The only way to true freedom is through Jesus Christ our Lord.  He is "The Way, The Truth and The Life."  He is the ONLY way for us to get true freedom and to keep true freedom.  He is FREEDOM.  We can be nothing without him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-6124847797828346746?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6124847797828346746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=6124847797828346746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/6124847797828346746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/6124847797828346746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/07/celebrate-celebrate-freedom.html' title='Celebrate, Celebrate Freedom!!'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SHAEBrMGCyI/AAAAAAAAAEs/MvmSwr1MC9s/s72-c/n598545282_1013275_4869.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-8226694158578575626</id><published>2008-06-30T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T07:05:07.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weekend</title><content type='html'>What a weekend!  Our "little Venezuelan Beauty Queen", as her daddy calls her. came home after spending a month in her native country.  Katie got in at 1:00 p.m....right on time i n the Atlanta airport. Caleb, Katie's boyfriend, was with us to pick her up.  Bill and Caleb waited to see her come out of the gate.  I told Bill I would just sit down and he could tell her I was waiting in the car because I wanted to start walking behind them and surprise her.  The only thing, Bill forgot to tell Caleb and he spilled the beans when she asked, "WHERE"S MY MAMA?, that I was seated right in front of her eyes.  Anyway, it was so good to have her back.  She spent a month working with University students in her native homeland of Caracas, Venezuela.&lt;br /&gt;   After we picked her up and got all the hugging and kissing done (well actually, I think she and Caleb did a little more of that when we weren't looking GRRRRRRR)we had to kill some time.  We went to Lenox Mall in Atlanta.  Now listen, if you want to see one of every type person in the world, GO TO LENOX MALL!  We saw it all.  It was a very entertaining afternoon.  Katie had bought a "little black dress" in Venezuela because we had planned to go to The Cheesecake Factory to eat and then to Fabulous Fox Theater that night to see "Oklahoma".  She decided that the mall bathroom would be the best place to change clothes when it came time to get dressed.  She and Caleb made the trip to the car to get the dress.  When they  came back in, Caleb came back to where we were sitting. Kate  realized the mall bathrooms were way away from where she was, so she just took the dress into Macy's dressing room and changed.  Well, she was gone a long time and we began envisioning that there was some type of security cameras in Macy's and that security was probably arresting her thinking she had stolen that dress there.  Finally she came back....no problem...she was only putting on makeup and fixing her hair.  Whew, big sigh of relief.  &lt;br /&gt;   We left there and went to the Cheesecake Factory.  If you've never been to eat there all I can say is GO!!!! They have a menu that is about 15 pages long and you can get everything there imaginable.  We had a neat server who was working there as a second job because she had incurred a lot of debt and she was trying to pay it off so that she could get married.  It was a little weird because she is a fashion designer, which caters to women size 14 and over but as I learned later, it was fashion that catered also to women who go for the flamboyant dresses. Anyway, her website is www.cotrice.com.  You may want to take a look at her flamboyant fashions.&lt;br /&gt;   After the wonderful meal and C H E E S E C A K E, we went to the Fox.  Katie looked beautiful in her "little black Dress".  The rest of us looked tired and hot.  Katie should have been tired. She had only two and half hours sleep the night before.  We got to the Fox and had to wait a little while for the doors to open.  I was about to pee my pants but managed to wait until it opened.  I went straight to the bathroom.  The bathrooms at the Fox are really pretty and COOL, as in air conditioned.  I hung out in them for a while and cooled off.  "Oklahoma" was absolutely wonderful.  I think it was one of the best plays  we had seen there.  ALL of the singers were A-1, top-notch, wonderful etc.  I am looking forward to the next time we go...We are going, aren't we, Bill?..to see JERSEY BOYS, which is about my favorite group from the '60's,  "Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons."  We gotta go.  They sing Bill's and My favorite song,"Can't Take my Eyes Off You."   I kept hoping for a trip to New York to see it on Broadway, but I will wait for the Fox.&lt;br /&gt;   We had a great day!  It was so good to have Kate back in the States.  Life is always so much more interesting when she's at home with us.  It reaffirms every time to me all the reasons God gave her to us when she was two days old.  We do so much more than we would probably do if she weren't with us.  Who would have ever thought that the little 5 lb. baby girl, who came into our life at 2 days old, would grow up to be so beautiful and keep mine and Bill's tired old legs moving, moving, moving all the time?  We have done some of the most interesting things just because of Katie.  She's adventurous.  She's motivated.  She's just a delight.  It's so good to have her home.  These old legs of mine were getting stiff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-8226694158578575626?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8226694158578575626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=8226694158578575626' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/8226694158578575626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/8226694158578575626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/06/weekend.html' title='The Weekend'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-5715776877428344436</id><published>2008-05-31T21:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T21:03:07.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heritage Singers - Peacespeaker</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/COgOFs4Qa1c' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/COgOFs4Qa1c'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-5715776877428344436?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5715776877428344436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=5715776877428344436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5715776877428344436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5715776877428344436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/05/heritage-singers-peacespeaker.html' title='Heritage Singers - Peacespeaker'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-5067159799775804106</id><published>2008-05-31T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:22:44.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Katie's Mission</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMIho8M-kI/AAAAAAAAADM/-HKxUKLx6iw/s1600-h/Katie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMIho8M-kI/AAAAAAAAADM/-HKxUKLx6iw/s320/Katie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207014968189057602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie left yesterday for a five week trip to Caracas, Venezuela.  She was literally beside herself with excitement.  This had been the desire of her heart for a long time.  Last year when she first started talking about this, I never thought this day would come...........but, COME, IT DID!!  When we got to Atlanta airport yesterday, I could not have been more proud.   She knew right what to do.  Of course, almost everything had been done online.  She is very self-confident and it showed yesterday as she left.  All went off without a hitch.  Our life flashed before us as we remembered how it was when our parents told us &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;goodby&lt;/span&gt; when our whole family- minus Katie, left to go to Costa Rica to study Spanish and then on to Caracas a couple of years after that.  It isn't easy saying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;goodby&lt;/span&gt; but it is easier when you know you're in the will of the Father who is sending you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She will be working on a team that ministers to University students.  She is living in a beautiful apartment that looks out over the magnificent mountains surrounding Caracas.  Today when I talked to her on instant message she informed me that she was standing there looking at the gorgeous view and drinking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;chinotto&lt;/span&gt; (a flavored soft drink) and eating an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;arepa&lt;/span&gt; - her very favorite thing.  It is a corn meal pancake that can be stuffed with cheese, meat or anything you would like.  It would be like our sandwiches.  She may really be tired of them when she gets back to the states.  That's about all, except for spaghetti, that she knows how to cook. oh well,  at least she won't starve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray for the ministry.  I will update more as I receive info.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-5067159799775804106?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5067159799775804106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=5067159799775804106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5067159799775804106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5067159799775804106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/05/katies-mission.html' title='Katie&apos;s Mission'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMIho8M-kI/AAAAAAAAADM/-HKxUKLx6iw/s72-c/Katie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-3670448553294710494</id><published>2008-05-26T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:22:44.557-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Memorial Day at the Cashion's</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMO9tbpyoI/AAAAAAAAADc/vwO0Q5IrNYU/s1600-h/memorial-day2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMO9tbpyoI/AAAAAAAAADc/vwO0Q5IrNYU/s320/memorial-day2.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207022047500814978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Today we took a little trip to see Bill's parents for our day off because of Memorial Day.  This is one day when most of the family gets together and barbecues  or something of that sort.  Today we fried up a bunch of salt water fish that Bill's brother had caught on one of his deep sea fishing ventures while they were at the beach.  Everything was delicious as we feasted on fish, fries,  coleslaw, Mama C.'s really good homemade hushpuppies and so many kinds of desserts.  It was fun and filling.  Everyone enjoyed it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;One of my favorite things about going to the Cashion's house is to see what kind of cap Mr. C &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;would be wearing for the day.  He always dresses the part.  If he knows one of the kids are coming that gave him a certain cap, he will always put that cap on.  He likes for them know he appreciates what they gave him.  He used to always put the Venezuelan cap on that we got him when we came to visit.  He loved that cap.  He came to visit us once in Venezuela and fell in love with the country .   One of the ice cream vendors who pushes a little cart around selling ice cream in Venezuela actually remembered Mr. C. recently.  Bill went back to Venezuela for some baseball clinics and this SAME VENDOR who was still selling ice cream from the same cart on the same plaza talked to Bill and remembered his Dad.  This is a vendor that AFTER all these years, 19 or 20  years to be exact,  still remembered Mr. C. buying an ice cream from him and Bill translated as they talked and talked to each other. This vendor  sent him yet ANOTHER cap and an Effie Ice Cream shirt that all the vendors wear.  Mr. C. was so proud that he remembered him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I guess my favorite cap that Mr. C. wears is the one that he wore today.  He proudly wore the cap that proclaimed him a veteran of World War II.  He served in the Navy during the war and even though he doesn't like to talk too much about it, he is proud of the service he gave to his country.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I am here to say  he SHOULD BE PROUD.  This is a man who risked his life  defending our freedoms.  He has to be prodded a little to show us some medals he received.  He is really very humble and modest about what he did in the war.  I am so proud of my father-in-law for the sacrifice he made to serve our country.  He deserves to proudly wear that cap.  Happy Memorial Day Mr. C.  I know a lot of your friends lost their lives and you remember them this day.  We are so glad that you made it home.  Thanks for all you did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-3670448553294710494?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/3670448553294710494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=3670448553294710494' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/3670448553294710494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/3670448553294710494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/05/memorial-day-at-cashions.html' title='Memorial Day at the Cashion&apos;s'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMO9tbpyoI/AAAAAAAAADc/vwO0Q5IrNYU/s72-c/memorial-day2.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-5590880548291200841</id><published>2008-05-22T20:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T20:39:49.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thou, Oh Lord - The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/y284YvkYrZo' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/y284YvkYrZo'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is my song of praise for what the Lord has done in my life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-5590880548291200841?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5590880548291200841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=5590880548291200841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5590880548291200841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5590880548291200841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/05/thou-oh-lord-brooklyn-tabernacle-choir.html' title='Thou, Oh Lord - The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-4289262095246437965</id><published>2008-05-22T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:22:44.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduation Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMU9sE0rBI/AAAAAAAAADs/r2ewFEjwgXw/s1600-h/bandaids.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMU9sE0rBI/AAAAAAAAADs/r2ewFEjwgXw/s320/bandaids.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207028644206390290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMULdtsKfI/AAAAAAAAADk/qRBBtLHUzwI/s1600-h/mortarboard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMULdtsKfI/AAAAAAAAADk/qRBBtLHUzwI/s320/mortarboard.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207027781357808114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Graduation Day is an exciting time in the life of anyone.    As a matter of fact, our granddaughter, Ashlyn, just graduated from kindergarten.  She had the cap and gown and the whole works.  Ironically, I had a day of Graduation today and it was a joyous time.  Meme  graduated from the Wound Care Clinic at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lanier&lt;/span&gt; Park Hospital in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Gainesville&lt;/span&gt;, Georgia.  I had an ulcer on my foot for about 5 1/2 months.    I had no cap and gown, but I had spent tons of money on bandages, tape,  medicines etc.   It had been a grueling process to get it well .   After bouts with infection, etc. I was beginning to think it wasn't going to get well but what do I know?  I surely hope that I learned all that God wanted to teach me during those five months.  There are times that I believe God puts you where he wants you to get your attention.  Not that he caused my foot to be sick but I do believe He uses that time to do some molding in your life.  Patience is not a virtue that I boast of.  There were times that I could have kicked that boot that I was wearing to the ends of the earth.  My sister kept telling me that I was having my JOB (long "o" ) testing.  That's true.  I know that I was tested, and I also know that I didn't always handle it well.    The Lord kept working with me;He never left me during that time.  His presence was my mainstay.  His strength was my strength.  He was  everyday "the lifter of my head."  What an awesome God we serve!  Little ulcers or big cancers He understands.  Little scraped knees or big tumors  are both important to Him.  Nothing is too big or too small.&lt;br /&gt;I love Him for that.  I love Him for watching over me.   I love Him for the friends He gave me.  They brought flowers.  They brought  food.  They laughed with me.  They cried with me.&lt;br /&gt;That was a few of many ways that God blessed me......through His people.  What a joy to know the Lord!  I am so glad He loves me.  He is the awesome God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-4289262095246437965?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/4289262095246437965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=4289262095246437965' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/4289262095246437965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/4289262095246437965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/05/graduation-day.html' title='Graduation Day'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMU9sE0rBI/AAAAAAAAADs/r2ewFEjwgXw/s72-c/bandaids.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-5443966831993019074</id><published>2008-05-10T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:22:45.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Mom  - Kathy's, Martha's and Bibby's</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMWCNJse1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/3nJnHz0rU7w/s1600-h/12-gauge_small.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMWCNJse1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/3nJnHz0rU7w/s320/12-gauge_small.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207029821316299602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMOUuM_rUI/AAAAAAAAADU/mgYF63xDVRY/s1600-h/mom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMOUuM_rUI/AAAAAAAAADU/mgYF63xDVRY/s320/mom.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207021343333133634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my mom.  She has been gone for almost four years.  I miss her as much today as I did when she passed away.  I still hear her sweet loving voice, her wise counsel, her laughter.  She was so funny.  I remember once when I was a teenager, we were riding down the road.  I looked over at her and she had this weird looking sun-visor cap on.  I was embarrassed and got down in the floor of the car.  She got me so tickled.  She really turned on when I tried to hide.  She turned that hat backwards, frontwards, sideways.  I was hysterical in the floor of that car I almost wet my pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many stories about my Mom that circulated around.  She was deathly afraid of BUGS!She almost beat to death a raisin on the floor one night thinking it was a bug.  Every time she hit it,  it jumped so she thought it was alive.  We laughed for years about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once she kept hearing a noise in the closet.  She thought it was a cricket.  So what does one do?&lt;br /&gt;One gets the best bug spray out and sprays in the closet.  The only thing, every single time she sprayed, the noise got louder.  Finally, she decided to divide and conquer.  She started slowly moving things around on that closet and found the little culprit.  It was an old smoke detector,&lt;br /&gt;still loaded with batteries,  that "chirped" every time she sprayed that bug spray.  As I said, she was so funny.  She loved to laugh AT HERSELF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Saturday my Mom and I were going to town and my brother-in-law asked if we would get him some wadding.  Now, neither of us even asked what wadding was.....who cared?  He told us to go to the sporting goods store and get it.  On the way there, she and I had a deep conversation about "wadding".  We both tried to guess what it was and we were hysterically laughing by the time we got to the store.  We walked in and she about spit all over the guy when she asked for it.    Could IIII  HHaave SOOme WAAAADing  (spit) please?  We were laughing so hard, we were crying.  He looked at us like we were crazy.  We sure had different ideas about what wadding was than materials to stuff shotgun shells with.  We had thought of everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, my mom loved her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  We all would call her and tell things they said and things they did everyday because we knew she would get so tickled.  My sisters, Martha and Bibby ( Lib) and all their children, my children and grandchildren loved "Nanoo".  We would all spend lots of time talking to her.  She was the best.  Even when she was down, she could bring us up by simply saying "now, Honey".  Oh, I miss her!  I miss hearing her say "well hey!"  when I called.  I just miss having her to talk to.  She was the best listener.  God really blessed us with the finest.  God gained a wonderful person when our mother went to be with Him.  One last thing, my favorite thing was when I spent the night with her one night.  I had already gotten on my blow-up mattress for the night.  She was still in the den taking medicine, putting drops in her eyes etc.  All of a sudden I heard her start talking.  She was right in the throne room of the Father.  She began interceding aloud to the Jesus on behalf of all her children and grandchildren. She asked the Lord to save those who weren't save, reclaim those who were "not living right" and bless those who were serving Him.  She called us all by name.....every single one of us.....What a godly woman she was.  Her prayers were powerful.  That's the main reason I miss her.   I love you, Mama.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-5443966831993019074?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5443966831993019074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=5443966831993019074' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5443966831993019074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5443966831993019074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/05/our-mom-kathys-marthas-and-bibbys.html' title='Our Mom  - Kathy&apos;s, Martha&apos;s and Bibby&apos;s'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pif36PfV8G8/SEMWCNJse1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/3nJnHz0rU7w/s72-c/12-gauge_small.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-2598824796243803420</id><published>2008-05-10T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T20:07:56.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-2598824796243803420?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2598824796243803420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=2598824796243803420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/2598824796243803420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/2598824796243803420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/05/our-mom.html' title='Our Mom'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-5930196084709928529</id><published>2008-04-29T06:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T06:38:39.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He Will Carry You (With Lyrics)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/Hi8tajO11SM' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/Hi8tajO11SM'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-5930196084709928529?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5930196084709928529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=5930196084709928529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5930196084709928529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/5930196084709928529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/04/he-will-carry-you-with-lyrics.html' title='He Will Carry You (With Lyrics)'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-7897588448382303524</id><published>2008-04-29T05:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T09:47:35.262-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='He will carry you'/><title type='text'>He will Carry You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;One of the times that I have always loved the most is the time when I  go through a trial.  Yes, that's what I said.I love trials,  especially when I pass through them and I look back from the other side and know full well Who  carried me..  Not a one of us has been through life without experiencing a time that affected us mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  It is a time when the presence of God is never more real in your life.  At least that's how it is for me.  I love the times that He puts me down on my rear and I am in the position of knowing without a shadow of doubt that it is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;He&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;is getting my attention.  I can feel Him.  I can sense His love and can bask in His glory. When we are at our weakest,  He is strong.  You know, He's always strong but WE can't always realize that until we "ARE  STILL AND KNOW THAT HE IS GOD."    Getting us "still" in this day and time is a tough thing.......not for God, but for us.  There is way too much to do and there is never a time when we truly have nothing to do.  God's timing and ours certainly doesn't jive.  There is not an opportune time to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;STOP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt; and let God have your full attention.  It reminds me of a mother who is trying to get the attention of her child.  She takes him with her hands on each side of his face and says, "Listen to me!"  I can vividly remember those days. My Mom wasn't a screamer but I am surprised I didn't have bruises on my face when she needed my full, undivided attention.  I knew she meant business.  That's the wonderful and loving way the Father handles us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;He grasps us with His loving hands,  into his loving arms, and wraps us up in the blanket of His love.I hope I always make myself available to His touch.  It's always there for the taking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;table id="personal-table" class="profileTable" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr style="visibility: visible;" id="Quote"&gt; &lt;td class="data"&gt;&lt;div style="" id="Quote-data" class="datawrap"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;2 Corinthians 12:9-10 (New International Version)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;New International Version (NIV)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-7897588448382303524?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7897588448382303524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=7897588448382303524' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7897588448382303524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7897588448382303524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/04/he-will-carry-you.html' title='He will Carry You'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-2655198280664883758</id><published>2008-04-23T03:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T04:23:05.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MOPS</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Notoriously over the years as a homemaker "mops" have been my thorn in the flesh.  I hate cleaning the floor.  I do it, but I don't like it.  I have used every kind of mop you can imagine trying to find just the right one.  I have one for hardwoods, one for tiles, and one for waxing.  I hate them all.  I equate them with really hard, backbreaking work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Recently,  I discovered a mop that I absolutely adore.  This mop is a worker itself.  This mop is beautiful and really does all the work while I sit back and enjoy it.  This mop is a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Mother of Preschoolers (MOPS).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;  These MOPS are people....adorable people, I might add.  They are all mommies who have children under school age.  They get together twice a month for fun, fellowship, inspiration, and food.  Because I had been there and done that, when the MOPS group in our county was begun by a team of ladies in our church, I didn't even think that much about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I was long past the days of having preschoolers.  One day to my surprise the leader of our MOPS called and asked me if I would help establish the MOPS group.  She was asking me to be a part of the steering team that would essentially draw from my experiences of  long ago when I did have preschoolers.  I prayed and said yes.  What could be more uplifting than to rub shoulders with these young women?  We began meeting and I, who would from now on be referred to as "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Mentor Mom"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;,  was in on one of the greatest adventures.  With God's guidance, MOPS began in Habersham  County.  We have about 45 members and it has proved to be the most fun and inspiring thing that I have ever done.  What a privilege to rub shoulders with 25-35 years younger than I.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The intention was for them to learn from me. AU CONTRAIRE, I say!  I have learned more from them about faith, family and community than I ever dreamed.  Involvement is the word of the day.  They are into everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Not only do they manage a family,  but they are hard workers in the community and their churches.   Some of them, of course, in a group that large are not Christians and maybe haven't had opportunities that others have had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Many have accepted Christ as their Savior and have learned what it is like to be in service for the King.  They have grown in their faith, as a parent and in their whole being.  Life now has a purpose and the "family" takes on a whole new meaning.  Now they are moms who seek to rear their children using Godly principles and guidance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;MOPS has been a joy for me.I love these women as if they were my very own.  Their preschoolers are precious and being a grandmother to all of them has been a delight.  If you are reading this and have a desire to visit or join our MOPS group, you can log on to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;www.habershammops.blogspot.com&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt; and find out all about what goes on in MOPS.  The adventure is exciting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-2655198280664883758?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2655198280664883758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=2655198280664883758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/2655198280664883758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/2655198280664883758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/04/mops.html' title='MOPS'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-687326179523626133.post-7504874799925869971</id><published>2008-04-19T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T20:04:58.910-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bill and his cars'/><title type='text'>Kathy's First Day of Blogging</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Writing doesn't come easy for me.  I want to try and share over the next few months  a little of our life together.  Bill and I have been married for almost 38 years.  We have known each other forever since we were in all grades together from the first to the twelfth.  Now that's amazing in itself.  We liked each other off and on all through school.  We didn't begin dating until the latter part of our senior year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living with Bill has been quite an adventure.  I have given  him much fodder for his sermons.  People love to hear what it has been like over the years in Bill's pastorates.  He has been preaching since the age of 16.  I have not been the stereotypical pastor's wife (whatever that is).  For one thing, I love to laugh, Bill likes to tell stories so I give him plenty of funny things to tell about so everybody can be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the latest things to happen in our life is that Bill just had to buy a new car.  Now, Bill gets very attached to his cars.  He even names those babies.  He's had one named "Old Betsy".  I thought he was gonna croak when she croaked.  He gave her to Good Will. We weren't gonna be home the day they  were coming to pick her up, so he left Old Betsy, the  title, keys etc. in front of the house and called them and told them that they could come while we were gone to get her.  I really don't think he could have stood seeing that Burgundy Betsy drive away.  It was like a death in the family when we came home and she was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The latest car that he has been driving is an old, blue  Lumina.  Her name, of course, is Old Blue.  She is the most awful color of blue.  Talk about attached........He loves that nasty thing.  You see, he drives his cars until the wheels  fall off.  The seats are coffee stained.  He hit a deer near our house recently so  the whole front end is dented in.  The smell of the deer comes up through the vents when he's riding in it.  If he could've found that deer, he would have tongue lashed it for hurting his Old Blue.  The mechanic just told him that it was going to cost about $1,500 to fix.  The air doesn't work and the mechanic  told him  "You're  just going to be  riding down the road and she's gonna quit on you."  He ain't gonna have that and he certainly wasn't going to put that much money  into a '97 Lumina.  So, guess what?  Bill bought a new car.  Old Blue is still here and he's trying to decide what he wants to do with her.  I would just take her to the Junkyard Graveyard.  He wants to "do what is right by her".  I think he will probably give her to a group that refurbishes cars for missionaries to drive when they are home on stateside assignment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill's new car is so nice.  It's a 2003 Saturn (o.k.,  so it's new to him)  It is pewter gray with black leather interior.  It has seat warmers, sun roof, &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;A 6CD Changer!!!!&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; and the backseat lets down all the way into the trunk.  I am sure that will be my bed on long trips.&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;  It is a pretty nice car.  The seats are not coffee stainable.  It has great air and heat.  I think he is set for the next 15 years.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, that's probably how long he'll have it.  I wonder what her name will be.  Yep, it's a "her".&lt;br /&gt;They're all "hers".  I hope she has an exotic name like "Old ZSA ZSA."  She's elegant!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/687326179523626133-7504874799925869971?l=kathyschronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7504874799925869971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=687326179523626133&amp;postID=7504874799925869971' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7504874799925869971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/687326179523626133/posts/default/7504874799925869971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kathyschronicles.blogspot.com/2008/04/kathys-first-day-of-blogging.html' title='Kathy&apos;s First Day of Blogging'/><author><name>Kathy Stroud Cashion</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11423731417391915771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
