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The Power of  TEN

6/22/2014

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I ran 10 miles Friday.   Ten.   I love saying that.   In fact, I am half tempted to randomly stop people in the street and announce “I ran ten miles today.”     While running I want to be asked, “How far are you going?” just so that I can hear myself say “ten miles”.   Ten has a power that nine lacks; in a non-mathematical but very psychologically real way, ten is much more than just one more than nine.  Ten is TEN.    TEN!

When I run ten miles I have a lot of time to think.  A LOT of time.   (I do NOT run ten miles fast.  I do NOT run anywhere fast.)  Thinking is a very good thing for me to do while I am running because it takes my mind off my aching knees, my plodding feet, and the fact that the dog can almost walk faster than I am running.     As I was thinking and running, I realized that to run 10 miles, one has to run 9 first.  

Profound, I know.

There is no way to run the 10th mile without running the previous nine.  A person cannot borrow, steal, or buy the nine miles that precede the tenth; those preceding nine miles must be run.    The power of ten comes only after the investment of nine.

Often, when running a ten mile course, I am tempted to stop and walk at the ninth mile.   My body is tired, my legs are heavy, my feet drag a bit; walking would be nice.   And then I remember the goal.    I want the power of ten.  At the tempted-to-walk point, I have paid nine miles worth of time, energy, focus, sweat, and pain.   To stop would be to waste those nine miles.   Unwilling to trash nine miles’ effort I continue running.   I become strong enough to run 10 miles by running nine and persevering.     

Ten mile achievements do not come when we stop at the ninth mile.  The only way to realize 10 mile blessings is to capitalize on 9 mile efforts.  There are life and love parallels to this physical principle.  

Writing a “10” paper requires the equivalent of nine miles worth of rough drafts, edits, and re-writes.    To neglect the final, painful read-through is to squander the previously invested hours.    

Building a house or business is 10 mile task.   Spending the “tenth” hour to guarantee the cabinet drawers close smoothly or making the “tenth” phone call soliciting customers brings dividends that capitalize tenfold on the nine foundational hours previously invested.

Developing relationships of trust with our associates—colleagues, neighbors, Primary children, teens, visiting teaching sisters—also requires ten mile effort.    Who knows what blessings, opportunities to help, chances to change lives and to bring people to Christ we miss when we stop at the ninth cold shoulder, the ninth unanswered door, or the ninth insolent attitude?

The principle is eternal.   By running the foundational “nine miles” and persevering, we will be strong enough to make it to our course’s end where our Savior waits with outstretched arms to welcome us home.   Talk about a perfect “10”!!

Sure love you!

Teresa


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The Key Works!

6/15/2014

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Perched precariously in the apricot tree, I awkwardly maneuvered the clippers and, reaching out over a void, six feet in the air, I attempted to cut off a large, upright branch without upending myself.    Several hours into my tree trimming task, my arms were sore and so was my attitude.    Where was my family? 

I knew the answer to that question….they were all in the house.  Why weren’t they helping me?  The answer to this question was not so simple but the outcome was.   For whatever reason, they simply failed to help me and I simply failed to make them.   I vacillated between being angry at them and being angry at me as I hacked at branches, six feet up in my tree.   I was not happy.

 

 Dr. Stokes noticed that Miles’ had a slight spine curvature and ordered x-rays at McKay-Dee Hospital in Ogden.  Word came back that he needed to see a specialist at Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City.   ARG!   In my over-full and under-funded life, finding time to drive to SLC for an appointment with a specialist and finding money to pay for that appointment with a specialist are no simple tasks.   Grudgingly, I made it happen.

At Primary Children’s Medical Center a technician (NOT the specialist with whom we’d made the appointment), called us into the examination room, said that she had looked at the x-rays that were taken in Ogden and told us that his curvature was within the normal range.  We were free to go home.

I exited fuming.   Why did I have to drive to SLC?   The x-rays taken in Ogden were clearly transported to SLC  electronically, why couldn’t the information that his curvature was not serious be transported electronically as well?   Seriously folks!  No wonder people complain about the medical system in America!   I was not happy.

 

 

Resentfully, I accepted a job working part time for Utah Electronic High School (EHS).   Already, working 2/3 time for OPA, I struggle to find time for all the things I think need to be done.   How will I fit another obligation into my schedule?  I am tired, SO TIRED, of always feeling rushed, of always feeling the pressure that accompanies pressing obligations.  A minute or two of spare time once in a while would be so nice.  Instead I signed up for more work.   I was not happy.

 

 They (Who is “they”?  Lots of people…..Google it!) say the key to happiness is gratitude.  Late, but not too late, I re-examined my experiences through a gratitude lens….and was astounded at the difference it made.

 

In my fiftieth year, I can still climb trees!  This is no small miracle.  While up in the tree, I see five lambs and three ewes grazing in my pasture.  FIVE lambs!   Last year only one lamb lived and the year before none of the lambs survived.  In MY pasture!  Oh my lands, we have LAND, land for a pasture, land for a garden, and land for an apricot tree!    I felt immensely grateful for our lambs, our land, and the ability to labor in a tree…. I was happy.

 
Miles does not have a significant spine curvature.  What fabulous news!   He is spared the pain, awkwardness, and embarrassment that spinal corrections would require and I am spared the accompanying expense.    Gratitude for my active, healthy little boy filled my heart…..and I was happy.

 
We had been praying for help financially when Kathy Webb called to offer me the EHS job.  What a blessing the job will be!   Earning about three times Utah’s minimum wage, I will be able to help pay for Chick’s mission and the family’s medical bills without leaving my home.   Imagine the bondage we’d experience and the tremendous, ever-present stress I’d feel if our financial outlook did not change….  Oh God, thank you for answering our prayers!   Gratitude for my gracious God fills my heart…..and I am happy.

 
The key works!!!  Using the gratitude key opened my happiness door.   In fact, it opened my happiness flood gate.   WHOOSH!!!   Gratitude washes unhappiness away and leaves, in its wake, sediments/sentiments of joy.  I am happy about big blessings, like my husband (big being a reference the size of the blessing, not the size of my husband) and little blessings, like a pen that works when I am signing a check.   And I am happy about blessings that lie between big and little, things like the taste of fresh blueberries (blueberries again!), a daughter who says “Mom, you are beautiful”, neighbors who cherish my children,  and a million (or so) other things for which I can be grateful.    

 

The key will work for you too.

 
Love,

Teresa

 

Here are some gratitude quotes for which I am grateful…..  J

 

“Everyone’s situation is different, and the details of each life are unique. Nevertheless, I have learned that there is something that would take away the bitterness that may come into our lives. There is one thing we can do to make life sweeter, more joyful, even glorious.

We can be grateful!”     President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, May 2014

 

 

“Sincerely giving thanks not only helps us recognize our blessings, but it also unlocks the doors of heaven and helps us feel God’s love.

 

Said the Greek philosopher Epictetus, “He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has.” 5

 

 

My brothers and sisters, to express gratitude is gracious and honorable, to enact gratitude is generous and noble, but to live with gratitude ever in our hearts is to touch heaven.

 

Let us follow Him. Let us emulate His example. Let us obey His words. By so doing, we give to Him the divine gift of gratitude.”  President Thomas S. Monson

 

 “How Different.”

Some murmur when the sky is clear

And wholly bright to view,

If one small speck of dark appear

In their great heaven of blue:

And some with thankful love are filled,

If but one streak of light,

One ray of God’s good mercy, gild

The darkness of their night.

 

 

 “If the only prayer you ever said was ‘Thank you,’ that would be enough.” – Meister Ekhart

 “There is no duty so under-rated as the duty of being happy. By being happy and grateful, we sow anonymous benefits upon the world.” – Robert Louis Stevenson

 “One of the very first things I figured out about life…is that it’s better to be a grateful person than a grumpy one, because you have to live in the same world either way, and if you’re grateful, you have more fun.”—Barbara Kingsolver

 

I’m convinced that living in a state of gratitude is THE key to happiness. Sam Horn

 

Because gratitude is the key to happiness, anything that undermines gratitude must undermine happiness. And nothing undermines gratitude as much as expectations. There is an inverse relationship between expectations and gratitude: The more expectations you have, the less gratitude you will have.”   Dennis Prager

Happiness is not getting what you want, it’s appreciating what you have. Gratitude is the key to happiness. -Michael Josephson

 

God needs no worship, no praise, no thanksgiving. It is man himself
who needs the benefit to be derived from these activities.
— Paul Brunton (1898-1981), Notebooks of Paul Brunton: Perspectives (1984), p. 224


Look how the smaller birds greet the sun, with so much merry chirruping
and so much outpouring of song! It is their way of expressing worship for
the only Light they can know, an outer one. But man can also know the inner Sun,
the Light of the Overself. How much more reason has he to chirp and sing than
the little birds! Yet how few man feel gratitude for such privilege.
— Paul Brunton (1898-1981), Notebooks of Paul Brunton: Perspectives (1984), p. 225


The best way to show my gratitude to God is
to accept everything, even my problems, with joy.
— Mother Teresa (1910-1997)


 

Gratefulness makes us aware of the gift and makes us happy. As long
as we take things for granted they don't make us happy. Gratefulness is
the key to happiness. Practicing gratitude is so central to my spirituality.
— David Steindl-Rast (b. 1926), Sacred Journey (October 2001)


 

“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.”     Lewis B. Smedes   (NOT a gratitude quote but one I love nonetheless.)

 






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Grateful for sheep grazing in the pasture
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Grateful for sandal season...
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Grateful for a 200% Suffolk lamb crop...
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Grateful for cherries (and pits!).
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....and flower season.
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....and for 200 lb pigs! (Actually, not yet but headed there.)
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Grateful to eat (not necessarily make...) apple pie!
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Tanah's News

6/8/2014

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For three years we’ve had a goal to go on a family bike ride.   Saturday was the day.  Chick put air all the bike tires Thursday and checked them Friday.  All seemed well.   Friday Lance fixed the brakes on several bikes.  All seemed well.    Saturday morning we loaded all the bikes in the back of the truck and drove to the section of the Rio Grande trail where we wanted to start.  All was not well.

 

We discovered that one bike had a flat tire that would not hold air and another bike had a chain issue.  So I drove back to Roy and borrowed two bikes from Sandy and Bill.   Back at the trailhead, we found another bike tire that would not hold air.   So I drove back to Roy and borrowed a bike from Randee.

 

Once more at the trailhead, we noticed a man struggling with bike challenges of his own.   I volunteered to drive him home.  While I was gone, Grace tried to use the bike pump to put a little more air in her tire.  The bike pump broke and released all the air from her tire.  So I then drove her bike to a gas station where we paid to put air back in the tire. 

 

Finally, nearly two hours after we arrived at the trailhead the first time, we started our family bike ride.   Incredibly and miraculously, we were all still friends; no yelling, cursing, berating or public beatings (and only a few eye rollings and deep sighs) had occurred.  

 

The ride itself was also incredible and miraculous.   We traveled along the Rio Grande pathway through Clinton, Clearfield, Layton, and into Kaysville.  The day was perfect—sunny and warm with a slight breeze.  We passed through some farmland; bales of hay sitting in the field, cattle grazing in the shade.  Mountains to the east provided eye candy while volunteers on the trail gave us real candy.  (Serendipitously our family bike ride fell on Davis County’s Trail Day.)   Portions of the trail were tree lined, giving us a fairy tale, tree tunnel experience.   Outside, doing something physical with my entire family—it was pure bliss for me.

 

We stopped for lunch at a park in Kaysville and then headed home.   About a mile from the truck Tanah’s attention meandered and so did her bike.   When she left the paved path, her bike tires hit the softer, sloped substrate and slowed.    When she attempted to return to the path, her tire hit the raised edge of the pavement and stopped.   She didn’t. 

 

When we came upon her she was lying on the trail, unable to move, with a baseball-size, purple protrusion on the inside of her right thigh, very close to the groin.  After determining that she could move her toes and could sit up, Lance and I decided that he would tend her and I would ride for the truck.

 

I brought the truck back to her—which was actually quite the accomplishment.  I had to back the truck, which has a turning radius similar to the Titanic’s, at an awkward angle though an opening only six inches wider than the truck itself to get through the barriers and onto the trail.

 

We loaded Tanah into the truck and, after a stop at Urgent Care and home, took her to the Emergency Room.   Her pain was VERY intense.  She couldn’t use her right leg at all and any jostle to the leg elicited agonized screams.   Morphine eased the pain—Tanah loves morphine!—and x-rays eased the concern.   The radiographs showed no fractures or dislocations.  They diagnosed a deep muscle bruise, offered her crutches, and sent us home.

 

People are awesome!  Darrell Brixey helped Lance give Tanah a blessing; Randee and Kevin bought pizza for us so we had food to come home to; our non-injured three children cleaned the house while we were gone and then went to Dragos who graciously entertained them.  Blessings.

 

And I mustn’t forget the miracle of the key.    At lunch I discovered I did not have the truck key with me.  Where was it?  As I biked rapidly to the truck, I could only hope and pray that I would find the key rapidly so I could rapidly return to my daughter.    The key was there, hanging from the lock on the outside of the driver’s side door—in plain sight, next to a busy road.  Both key and truck could have been taken.   Another tender mercy.

 

So, there you have it.  Tanah’s news.    It is not the “fun news” I anticipated I would be sharing when I announced in last week’s letter that Tanah had tidings pending but it is the most recent Tanah tale.

 

Love,

Teresa

 

P.S.   Here is the news I planned on sharing this week:

 

Monday Tanah starts working at Burger Bar in Roy (if she can walk……), “home of the ‘Big Ben’, family owned and operated since 1956”.   http://burgerbarutah.com/ As she offered Tanah the job, the owner said, “This isn’t just a summer job; I want you to be with us through your high school career.”  Burger Bar is closed on Sundays and has a reputation of being a great place to work.  I am thrilled.    Tanah’s excitement does not quite match mine—she is the one that actually has to commit to working—but she is pleased.

 

This last statement—that I am thrilled and Tanah is only pleased—also applied to the date Tanah went on Tuesday.    The young man is such a nice, NICE guy.  When we were in Barnes and Noble in December we ran into him and he chatted with Miles for over 30 minutes about football.   I know he had an ulterior motive (Tanah) but still, any guy that will chat with a 10 year old for 30 minutes, even if he has an ulterior motive, is super in my book.   He just graduated and is heading to a mission so he is safe; he will be a fun, nice date but no threat of becoming a boyfriend because he will be gone.   Best case scenario in my book.  (Update:  Tanah had a great time. “He is such a NICE guy,” was her comment afterwards.)

 


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Eye candy (Courtesy of http://www.theepochtimes.com/n2/life/utah-snowbird-resort-climbing-tram-20039.html )
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Real candy
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Real Tanah...
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Chain issues
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...hurts real bad.
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Tender mercy!
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People I Love to Hold

6/1/2014

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Not all stories are big, not all stories are bold.

Some stories are smaller and some stories are old.

This week I’ve many little stories that beg to be told,

Stories about people that I love to hold.

 

Okay, so I am a much better writer than I am a poet,

This is a fact—you should know that I know it--

But darling Aunt Linda said I must make a rhyme

Because if I did not, I would owe her a dime!   (Which, incidentally, is a true story.)

 

All of the following stories—stories about people that I love to hold—are also true.

 

Chick is a grave digger.  He is also a prospective USU student, a high school graduate, a hurried parker, and a young man whose mission papers have been submitted to church headquarters.   Grave digger first….

 

Chick started his first real job this week.  He works for Roy City Parks and Recreation and spent most of his week mowing lawns, trimming edges, and whacking weeds.   Friday the city needed to move a grave. Chick, who loves to be on the working end of a shovel, dug out one side of the vault while three other city workers took turns digging out the other side.  My fears of that he would not be able to keep this job have been buried.

 

Concerned that Chick might not have received a scholarship for which he qualified, I called USU to investigate the matter.   “We have no record of your son even applying to our university,” I was told.    Not good.   In a BIG way.    The kind lady offered to look into the matter while I sat stewing on hold.    After what seemed like forever, she returned to the phone line.   “I discovered the problem.   Your son applied to spring term, not fall semester, and we don’t give scholarships in the spring.”    I took a deep breath, readying myself for the battle I was certain would come; somehow I had to get that enrollment changed and I shuttered as I imagined the reams of paperwork and hours of phone calls I was certain the situation would require.   “Don’t worry,” the kind lady continued, “I have switched him to Fall Semester and forwarded his information to the scholarship office.   You should be hearing from them shortly.”   In less than an hour I received an email from USU congratulating Chick on the $1000 scholarship he received.    I love USU.  YEA AGGIES!

 

Chick’s graduation was fabulous…..and not just because he graduated.   In preparation for the ordeal I imagined that graduation would be, I readied myself for two hours of intense boredom.    I was so wrong; graduation was a delightful experience.   “Take your mess and make a message.”   “It doesn’t matter if the glass is half full or half empty, just drink it….and then fill it up again.”  Even watching 436 graduates receive their diplomas was wonderful.  The afternoon marked the commencement of my new attitude about graduations.

 

Friday night, having been abandoned by the rest of the family, Chick, Grace and I decided to go to a movie.   We made our decision late which made us late; we arrived in the theater parking lot at 7:40 p.m. for the movie’s 7:20 showing.    Chick pulled hurriedly into the closest available space and did not leave much available space between our van and the large, red truck in the stall next to us.   Opening the passenger door, I had to shimmy sidewise to exit the van.

 

After enjoying the movie, we returned to the parking lot.  As I began to drive home, the kids noticed a Subway napkin under the windshield wiper.   Hoping it was a coupon (Subway is our favorite) they insisted I stop so Chick could retrieve it.     He grabbed the napkin, looked at it briefly, casually dropped it on the ground, and got back in the van.

 

Uh……..NO!

 

“Did you just throw that on the ground,” I asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“You just threw that on the ground?” I repeated, flabbergasted.

“Yes.”

Images of Teresa the Tree-Hugger flashed through my head while scripts of lectures I had given about caring for our Earth echoed in my mind.  “Son, we don’t litter,” I said, my voice filled with moral indignation.  “Pick it up.”

 

“Alright,” he said, “But I am not going to let Grace read it.”

 

Suddenly the light dawned.   Big red trucks are usually driven by men with big red necks.   And big, red-necked men would have a hard time fitting into the small space available between the passenger side of our van and the driver’s side of the neighboring red truck.       Laughter burst from my mouth as an image of a large man entering the passenger side of his truck and crawling over the console to reach the driver’s seat entered my mind.   We were lucky we only got a Subway napkin.    Whoops.

 

Chick’s mission papers are at Church headquarters.   He could receive his mission call anytime.  President Sorensen—greatest mission president ever—once said that wise parents would pray not that their children were sent to a good mission but that they were sent to a good mission president.    Every prayer that I offer includes a prayer that Chick will be called to a mission presided over by a fabulous mission president.   Feel free to include the same plea in your prayers.

 

Miss Tanah has some fun news but I am not allowed to share it until next week.  

 

Miss Grace turned 14 today.    Happy Birthday!!

 

Annually at SAA, the principal gives a special award to one person in each grade, someone who she feels exemplifies citizenship and scholarship.   This year she gave the 8th grade Principal’s Award to Grace.   When Lance, who teaches at the school, heard Grace’s name, he ran forward, yelling loudly and waving his hands in the air.   Unfazed, Grace responded by yelling, waving her arms in the air, and running towards Lance.   They met in the middle and hugged.   A friend wrote in Grace’s yearbook “Are you scarred from your dad hugging you in the assembly?”

 

Mr. Miles loves the Harry Potter books.  Mr. Miles hates to read.   Mr. Miles’ Mom (me) wants him to read but knows that forcing children to read is a very thankless task and often unsuccessful task.   “Let’s make a deal,” I told him in the tone of voice that says the deal will be made whether or not he likes it.  “For every page of a book you read to yourself, I will read a page of a Harry Potter book to you.”  So far, so good.  He has read 26 pages of a Charlie Bones book and I have read him 26 pages in the fourth Harry Potter book.   Lance calls it manipulation; I call it motherhood.

 

Lance and I drove to Zion’s Camp (Belfair, WA) where my parents are serving an LDS mission.   I fell asleep about LaGrande, OR and awakened to see the Columbia River on my right side.  Hum……when going to Belfair, WA one should cross the Columbia, not court it.

 

“How long have we been following the river?” I asked with a forced calm.

 

“Not too long,” Lance said.    “Too” is relative; in this case “not too long” meant 60 miles.   We exited the freeway and headed east so that we could cross the Columbia and begin heading west again.  At this point, I needed to use the bathroom.    Coming out of the gas station, Lance re-entered the freeway ….heading west again.   So we had to drive west until the next exit so that we could drive east so that we could drive west again.   Oh my.  I was laughing so hard it was a good thing that I had used the bathroom recently.   If I had been laughing that hard on a full bladder things would have gotten really ugly.

 

Teresa received a letter from the State Board of Education Nominating Committee telling her that she was not selected for an interview.   My run for public office is over.   I am not sure what they were looking for but it clearly was not me.  Bummer but not too bad.

 

I also received an email from Doug Gibson, Opinion Page Editor for the Standard Examiner, offering me a bi-monthly (4th Tuesday every other month) columnist position.    Huge WHAAAAA-WHOOOOO!

 

The 2014-15 school year is over.  The end of school was great—lots of figurative pay days.    I noticed one student sitting on the front row in the awards assembly and realized that he had no friends and probably did not earn any awards and knew that I should have invented an award for him but, at that point, it was too late.  I wrote in my journal the next morning that I should have given him an award.    The next day, the last day of school, was field day.    We were all at the park playing.  He found me and hung out next to me (he does not have any close friends) and said something about the fact that he did not get an award from me.   Thank God (literally) I had written about him in my journal so I was honestly able to tell him that I wanted to give him an award and just messed up.   He said, "I knew it was a mistake.  I knew you would have something for me."   WOW!   I did get him an award and presented it to him at his house.    Heavenly Father took care of us both.

 

Heavenly Father takes care of all of us.

 

Love you!
Teresa




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Pleased son. Proud mom.
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Smirking son. Surprised Dad.
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Mom and Dad Noel at Zion's Camp. They are with the canoe that dumped Dad and Lance in the lake. The canoe Mom and I were in, the canoe that did NOT tip over in the lake, is not pictured.
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Chick enjoys the book of letters and advice given him for graduation. A special THANKS to all of you who contributed.
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Tanah's new glasses are not the news that she will not let me post until next week.....
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How many bunches of cotton candy can you eat? Grace probably has you beat!!
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    Teresa Hislop
    thislop@msn.com

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