<?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-3655103</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:38:24.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Princess Mother's Tidbits</title><subtitle type='html'>Tips and amusements from the Princess Mother</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-113656308609258734</id><published>2006-01-06T07:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T07:58:06.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I would rather live my life as if there is a God, and die to find out thereisn't, than live my life as if there isn't, and die to find out there is.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/113656308609258734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/113656308609258734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html#113656308609258734' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-113002172953107972</id><published>2005-10-22T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T07:49:29.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It is not growing old that we do not like;It is being perceived as old.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/113002172953107972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/113002172953107972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2005_10_16_archive.html#113002172953107972' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-111996468402247770</id><published>2005-06-28T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T06:18:04.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One evening a grandson was talking to his grandmother about current events.The grandson asked his grandmother what she thought about the shootings at schools, the computer age, and just things in general.The Grandma replied, "Well, let me think a minute, I was born before:' television' penicillin' polio shots' frozen foods' Xerox' contact lenses' Frisbees and the pillThere was no:' radar' credit </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/111996468402247770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/111996468402247770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2005_06_26_archive.html#111996468402247770' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-111438241337195315</id><published>2005-04-24T15:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-24T15:40:13.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Three women die together in an accidentand go to heaven.When they get there, St. Peter says, "We only have one rule here in heaven: don't step on the ducks!"So they enter heaven, and sure enough, there are ducks all over the place. It is almost impossible not to step on a duck, and although they try their best to avoid them, the first woman accidentally steps on one.Along comes St. Peter with the</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/111438241337195315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/111438241337195315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2005_04_24_archive.html#111438241337195315' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-110961025092043058</id><published>2005-02-28T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T09:04:10.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Happy Couple    There's no such thing, you say!  Read on!  A couple was celebrating their golden wedding anniversary on thebeach in Montego Bay, Jamaica. Their domestic tranquility had long beenthe talk of the town. "What a peaceful &amp; loving couple". The localnewspaper reporter was inquiring as to the secret of their long andhappy marriage. "Well, it dates back to our honeymoon in America,"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110961025092043058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110961025092043058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2005_02_27_archive.html#110961025092043058' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-110945486470498819</id><published>2005-02-26T13:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-26T13:54:24.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance. The universe is not rich enough to buy the vote of an honest man. Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that at this moment, all you have is all you need. In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty. How many famous and high-spirited </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110945486470498819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110945486470498819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2005_02_20_archive.html#110945486470498819' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-110945486361193147</id><published>2005-02-26T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-26T13:54:23.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance. The universe is not rich enough to buy the vote of an honest man. Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that at this moment, all you have is all you need. In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty. How many famous and high-spirited </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110945486361193147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110945486361193147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2005_02_20_archive.html#110945486361193147' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-110934034475949301</id><published>2005-02-25T06:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-25T06:12:04.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Three women die together in an accident and go to heaven.When they get there, St. Peter says, "We only have one rule here in heaven: don't step on the ducks!"So they enter heaven, and sure enough, there are ducks all over the place.  It is almost impossible not to step on a duck, and although they try their best to avoid them, the first woman accidentally steps on one.Along comes St. Peter with </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110934034475949301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110934034475949301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2005_02_20_archive.html#110934034475949301' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-110825701266863845</id><published>2005-02-12T17:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-12T17:10:12.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>People in life who are the happiest don't have everything...They make the best of everything they have.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110825701266863845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110825701266863845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2005_02_06_archive.html#110825701266863845' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-110714329802413591</id><published>2005-01-30T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-30T19:48:18.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth and populated the Earth with broccoli, cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow and red vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives. Then using God's great gifts, Satan created Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream and Krispy Creme Donuts. And Satan said, "You want chocolate with that?" And Man said, "Yes!" and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110714329802413591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110714329802413591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2005_01_30_archive.html#110714329802413591' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-110337471680391759</id><published>2004-12-18T04:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-18T04:58:36.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Holiday Eating Tips1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet tableknows nothing of the Holiday spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leaveimmediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. Like fine single- maltscotch, it's rare. In fact, it's even rarer than single-malt scotch. Youcan't find it any other </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110337471680391759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110337471680391759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_12_12_archive.html#110337471680391759' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-110225588088453532</id><published>2004-12-05T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T06:11:20.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> “Rosie, the oldest reindeer,        Had a very lovely hat!        And everyone who saw it        Wished they had a hat like that!        All of the other reindeer        Were stuck in lavender and pink,        They yearned for when they could wear        Colors of a brighter ink.        Then each Christmas, as they passed,        Each one earned the right        To wear purple and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110225588088453532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/110225588088453532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_12_05_archive.html#110225588088453532' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-109994039289176168</id><published>2004-11-08T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T10:59:52.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Received from "Miss" Faye...Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arrivingsafely in an attractive and well preserved body....but rather to skid insideways, CHOCOLATE in one hand, red wine in the other, body thoroughlyused up, totally worn out and screaming ~                "WOO HOO what a ride!"                            Have an amazing day.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109994039289176168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109994039289176168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_11_07_archive.html#109994039289176168' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-109965588484689549</id><published>2004-11-05T03:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-05T03:58:04.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"When I was born, I was so surprised Icouldn't talk for a year and a half."              --Gracie Allen"It's so simple to be wise. Just think ofsomething stupid to say and then don't say it."              --Sam Levenson</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109965588484689549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109965588484689549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_10_31_archive.html#109965588484689549' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-109854953791172101</id><published>2004-10-23T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-23T09:38:57.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SO YOU THINK YOU KNOW EVERYTHING?A dime has 118 ridges around the edge.A cat has 32 muscles in each ear.A crocodile cannot stick out its tongue.A dragonfly has a life span of 24 hours.A goldfish has a memory span of three seconds.A "jiffy" is an actual unit of time for 1/100th of a second.A shark is the only fish that can blink with both eyesA snail can sleep for three years.Al Capone's</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109854953791172101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109854953791172101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_10_17_archive.html#109854953791172101' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-109794579911171725</id><published>2004-10-16T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-16T09:56:39.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Love's portrait--Love consists of seeing beauty, feeling warmth, being thoughtful, patient and kind, but success in love depends much on our own judgement of how we love.We can be supplied with canvas, colors and lessons, but producing a masterpiece must come from the expression of love we possess in our souls.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109794579911171725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109794579911171725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_10_10_archive.html#109794579911171725' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-109794491919577996</id><published>2004-10-16T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-16T09:41:59.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ThoughtPerhaps better to spend time and effort being attractive to the one you are with-- rather than being an attraction to others.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109794491919577996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109794491919577996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_10_10_archive.html#109794491919577996' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-109724946403221791</id><published>2004-10-08T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-08T08:31:04.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Good motto to live by:"Life  should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving  safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, margarita in the other, body thoroughly      used up, totally worn out and screaming ~ WOO HOO whata ride!"  Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but the moments</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109724946403221791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109724946403221791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_10_03_archive.html#109724946403221791' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-109641537773589709</id><published>2004-09-28T16:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-28T16:49:37.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Just remember:A good friend will come and bail you out of jail...but a true friend will be sitting next to you saying,"Damn...that was fun!"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109641537773589709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109641537773589709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_09_26_archive.html#109641537773589709' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-109508532086264494</id><published>2004-09-13T07:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-13T07:22:00.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Time with Family and FriendsThese are the moments of a life-Lived simply in rich detail. Measured in the beats of the heart,And the moments that are shared. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109508532086264494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109508532086264494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_09_12_archive.html#109508532086264494' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-109295356748927022</id><published>2004-08-19T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T15:12:47.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Monster on The DeskI will not learn to use that thingI won't admit that it is king,I will not force myself to learnAnd from my pen and paper turn,I do not like computers, sirI do not like them, I aver!I will not use them on a tableI'm telling you, I am not able,I will not deign to press those keysNot even if you pay me fees,I do not want to use that thingNot even for a diamond </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109295356748927022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109295356748927022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_08_15_archive.html#109295356748927022' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-109232099593674116</id><published>2004-08-12T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-12T07:29:55.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm not going to vacuum 'til Sears makes one you can ride on.  -Roseanne Barr-   When women are depressed they either eat or go shopping.  Men invade another country. -Elayne Boosler-    In politics, if you want anything said, ask a man.  If you want anything done, ask a woman. -Margaret Thatcher-   I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career.  -Gloria </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109232099593674116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/109232099593674116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_08_08_archive.html#109232099593674116' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-108529733193914029</id><published>2004-05-23T00:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-23T00:28:51.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>  Be generous with your love. It's never wasted.     Cherish all your happy moments: they make a fine cushion for old age.            Embrace the unexpected! It keeps life interesting.   Imagination is more important than knowledge.             </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/108529733193914029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/108529733193914029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108529733193914029' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-107163087936474921</id><published>2003-12-16T19:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-16T19:15:52.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"We who lived in the concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: The last of his Freedoms-To choose one's Attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."-victor E. Frankl</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/107163087936474921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/107163087936474921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107163087936474921' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-106790990725841775</id><published>2003-11-03T17:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-03T17:41:00.250-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Stitches of the past  Today, October 24th, I purchased a new sewing machine. I bought a Brother machine with lots of fancy stitches and new features. I may use some of them, but most will probably go untried. Our good friend Beth told me that Brother machines were pretty good and it was in my price range, so that helped me make my decision. If I had my choice, of course,  I would own a Viking </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/106790990725841775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/106790990725841775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2003_11_02_archive.html#106790990725841775' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-106263730839064549</id><published>2003-09-03T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-03T18:01:48.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"A negative attitude will destroy a dream and paralyze ideas. The world is blessed by those with a positive attitude who see possibility where others see barriers."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/106263730839064549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/106263730839064549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2003_08_31_archive.html#106263730839064549' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-106056881301455023</id><published>2003-08-10T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-10T19:27:50.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What's important to you?300 people in an audience were asked to write a list of important things. Many of the people were surprised at the number of things on the lists that required little or no money. What really seems to be important to people are things like:...waking up to a hot cup of coffee...fireside chat with a friend...reading...being with their kids...driving down a new road..</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/106056881301455023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/106056881301455023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2003_08_10_archive.html#106056881301455023' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-94994565</id><published>2003-05-28T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-05-28T09:21:41.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Just a thought If you can, lead.   If you cannot, or will not lead, choose wisely whom you will follow, for you will be judged by their words and deeds.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/94994565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/94994565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#94994565' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-92929935</id><published>2003-04-20T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-04-20T06:49:14.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Obstacles!"We who lived in the concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: The last of his Freedoms-To choose one's Attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."-Victor </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/92929935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/92929935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2003_04_20_archive.html#92929935' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-90071212</id><published>2003-03-03T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-03-03T13:52:40.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Picture This   I want you to close your eyes and picturein your mind the soldier atValley Forge, as he holds hismusket in his bloody hands.He stands barefoot in the snow, starved from lack of food, woundedfrom months of battle and emotionally scarred from the eternity awayfrom his family surrounded by nothing but death and carnage of war.He stands tough, with fire in hiseyes and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/90071212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/90071212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2003_03_02_archive.html#90071212' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-88597401</id><published>2003-02-05T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-02-05T09:02:08.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Friends are like WedgiesThey know your inner self,They are intimately close,And, if feels good when you pick good ones.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/88597401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/88597401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88597401' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-87189816</id><published>2003-01-09T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-01-09T15:58:03.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Reality is the leading cause of stress amongst those in touch with it--</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/87189816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/87189816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2003_01_05_archive.html#87189816' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-86900556</id><published>2003-01-03T17:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-01-03T17:17:47.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones, and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.Victor Hugo</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/86900556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/86900556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_12_29_archive.html#86900556' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-86704562</id><published>2002-12-30T09:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-30T09:50:51.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A New Year's ThoughtEvery man is enthusiastic at times. One Man has enthusiasm for thirty minutes, another has it for thirty days, but it is the man who has it for thirty years who makes a success in life.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/86704562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/86704562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_12_29_archive.html#86704562' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-86704320</id><published>2002-12-30T09:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-30T09:51:24.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Legend of the PoinsettiaThe Mexican legend of the poinsettia tells of a poor orphan girl who had no gift for the cathedral's altar on Christmas Eve. Out of desperation, the little girl picked a bunch of unsightly weeds on her way to the church. As she reluctantly presented her gift, a miracle occurred, and the weeds were transformed into colorful poinsettias.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/86704320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/86704320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_12_29_archive.html#86704320' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-84499521</id><published>2002-11-13T17:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-13T17:13:27.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Pennies From HeavenI'll never again pick up a penny without thinking of this.Several years ago, a friend of mine and her husband were invited to spend the weekend at the husband's employer's home. My friend, Arlene, was nervous about the weekend. The boss was very wealthy, with a fine home on the waterway, and cars costing more than her house. The first day and evening went well, and Arlene </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/84499521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/84499521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84499521' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-83902601</id><published>2002-11-01T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-01T18:44:11.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Food For ThoughtOLIVE RUBY TITLEWe Red Hatters make a big deal out of 50th birthdays.  Actually, we make a big deal out of birthdays in general, any chance we get, don't we?  I had the privilege of joining Queen Linda Richards of the Lincoln Hills chapter, here in California, last Saturday to celebrate a remarkable Red Hatter's birthday.  Olive Ruby (that name again) Title celebrated her 106th</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/83902601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/83902601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_10_27_archive.html#83902601' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-81823360</id><published>2002-09-19T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-19T07:42:18.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Beauty of a Woman~ The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, The figure she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from her eyes, Because that is the doorway to her heart, The place where love resides. The beauty of a woman Is not in a facial mole, But true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/81823360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/81823360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_09_15_archive.html#81823360' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-80751368</id><published>2002-08-26T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-26T17:13:01.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>When God Created MothersWhen the Lord was creating mothers he was into his sixth day of "overtime" when an angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."The Lord answered, "Have you read the specs on this order?"She has to be completely washable, but not plastic;She has to have 180 moveable parts...all replaceable;She has to run on black coffee and leftovers;</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/80751368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/80751368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80751368' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-80005488</id><published>2002-08-08T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T18:11:33.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>GIRLFRIENDSYoung and newly married, I relaxed under a pecan tree on a hotTexas summer day, drinking iced tea and getting to know my newsister-in-law, Estelle. Not much older than I, but already themother of three, Estelle seemed to me experienced and wise."Get yourself some girlfriends," she advised, clinking the icecubes in her glass."You are going to need girlfriends. Go places with </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/80005488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/80005488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#80005488' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-79809656</id><published>2002-08-04T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-04T09:59:38.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's beautiful woman monthIT'S GOOD TO BE THE WOMANThey smile when they want to scream.They sing when they want to cry.They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous.They fight for what they believe in.They stand up for injustice.They don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a better solution.They go without new shoes so their children can have them.They go</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/79809656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/79809656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_08_04_archive.html#79809656' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-79571825</id><published>2002-07-29T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-29T17:50:38.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Thought for the DayCourage does not always roar. Sometimes, it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow." - Author unknown</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/79571825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/79571825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_07_28_archive.html#79571825' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-79545618</id><published>2002-07-29T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-29T17:51:10.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Super Summer Tea6 tea bags (regular size, or 3 family sized)2 quarts of boiling water1-1/2 cups sugar1 (6 ounce) can frozen orange juice concentrate1 (6 ounce) can frozen lemonade concentrate6 ounces pineapple juicehandful fresh mint1/4 teaspoon cinnamon1/4 teaspoon ground clovesPour boiling water over tea, mint, cinnamon and cloves and steep for 20 minutes. Strain into a 1-gallon </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/79545618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/79545618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_07_28_archive.html#79545618' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655103.post-79279944</id><published>2002-07-22T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-22T19:01:51.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Language of the Fan With handle to lips:Kiss MeCarrying in the right hand in front of face:Follow MeCarrying in the left hand:Desirous of AcquaintancePlacing it on left ear:You have changedTwirling in left hand:I wish to get rid of youDrawing across forehead:We are watchedDrawing through hand:I hate youTwirling in right hand:I love anotherClosing it:I wish to speak to youDrawing across eyes:I am </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/79279944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655103/posts/default/79279944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ptidbits.blogspot.com/2002_07_21_archive.html#79279944' title=''/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15769473706027484126</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></entry></feed>
