tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78602154606285689232024-03-13T11:10:53.217-04:00Three Chocolate BrowniesLife is sweeter with Brownies! Here's a slice from our life.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.comBlogger392125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-6619347516455557162014-09-23T20:05:00.000-04:002014-09-23T20:05:03.876-04:00A year? Seriously?!Forget Carmen Santiago - where in the world have<b><i> I</i></b> been?!<div>
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Well, I've started graduate school, revved up my photography business, fallen in love a few times. and am still raising my three delicious Brownies. Lots to tell. Soon...</div>
Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-84020632542888813262013-07-21T22:46:00.002-04:002013-07-21T22:49:22.400-04:00She Lives!By "she", I mean "me". Or maybe "I". Either way, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth.<br />
<br />
Life has just been an interesting array of surprises and destiny lately. "Sweet Brownies Photography" has taken off in directions I never expected. And I'm going back to school. For my Masters. When the heck did I decide to add "student" to my resume? Oh well, I'm going with it. The flow feels right. The time is now.<br />
<br />
God has been so faithful and to see His plans for my life come to fruition is both humbling and gratifying.<br />
<br />
Who knew?<br />
<br />
Down deep, I think I always did.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-25736677032417573242013-03-31T22:51:00.000-04:002013-03-31T22:51:05.936-04:00Paying it ForwardA few months ago I read a quote on Facebook to the effect that when you are in God's will and obeying Him through seemingly insurmountable circumstances, people will want to help you. And they won't know why. People will want to be kind to you. And they won't know why. <br />
<br />
The British television show,<em> </em>"Downton Abbey", is one of the few programs I've found myself getting into lately. Joining the bandwagon late, I relied on Netflix for Season One. After anxiously waiting on The List at the public library for nearly two months for Season Two, I requested the third - a wait that would be at least as long as the first.<br />
<br />
A Mommy Friend I met on a parenting forum several years ago, but whom I've never met in person asked me if I had gotten a hold of the third season. She, too, a huge fan. Then to my utter surprise, she offered to let me borrow her copy. To say I was elated is<em> the</em> understatement. I graciously gave her my address and eagerly awaited the DVDs.<br />
<br />
The following week, a box arrived addressed to me. But it was from Amazon. And I hadn't ordered anything from Amazon. I ripped open the box and out spilled "Downton Abbey" Season Three...and Season Two...and Season One. <em>Brand. New</em>. I retrieved the packing slip which said, "_____ has sent you a gift". The personal message from her was that I would need not return the DVDs. They were all mine to keep.<br />
<br />
I could barely see through my tears to type her an immediate "Thank You". She wrote back that she had had every intention of just mailing me her copy of the third season to borrow, but something told her to <strong>buy</strong> me the whole set instead.<br />
<br />
What did I say to that? How did I respond? Well, I cried. A lot. This Act of Kindness touched me in a way and at a time in my life that restored my faith. That let me know that my trials and tribulations have not gone unnoticed. That tides turn. Seasons change (literally) and God is good (all the time). At that moment I realized the power of Paying it Forward.<br />
<br />
And that's exactly what I decided to do.<br />
<br />
Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-50467782059304485742013-03-06T14:38:00.001-05:002013-03-06T14:38:55.319-05:00Wordless Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4yjeqF6AssMFIDeO78ZVh76qYSnRwFY0icyh3n9ls8aq7knKC66HVd90pJfo72FUQJn_Bu9RnpY_mAdvuzKSbmgMus6_MW7zNFVEfw9eUY4DN-WMb8RnVxrtRMPMGi2TeddlbVwPuY8/s1600/IMG_5598_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4yjeqF6AssMFIDeO78ZVh76qYSnRwFY0icyh3n9ls8aq7knKC66HVd90pJfo72FUQJn_Bu9RnpY_mAdvuzKSbmgMus6_MW7zNFVEfw9eUY4DN-WMb8RnVxrtRMPMGi2TeddlbVwPuY8/s320/IMG_5598_edited-1.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-69409450464770322302013-02-18T09:36:00.000-05:002013-02-18T09:36:09.069-05:00Picture This<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQS2IOlJwLv_UrjLbBgqAcnATV3NXJnS6N-VK2JD55MCxZswMNExefvgb4fcvL8bmCjX1Cw-M9NS31ryto2RWRlOFrKn1Gq0j-7fLGb2mL1MhM7-SHtoqYV30u7MUREv-A4fpdu7uHZ2s/s1600/Sweet+Brownies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQS2IOlJwLv_UrjLbBgqAcnATV3NXJnS6N-VK2JD55MCxZswMNExefvgb4fcvL8bmCjX1Cw-M9NS31ryto2RWRlOFrKn1Gq0j-7fLGb2mL1MhM7-SHtoqYV30u7MUREv-A4fpdu7uHZ2s/s320/Sweet+Brownies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<em>Picture this</em>:<br />
<br />
A middle-aged woman who recently pushed the "reset button" on her Life decides to take her love of Photography to the next level.<br />
<br />
<em>Picture this</em>:<br />
<br />
She scours the Internet and libraries for all things Photography. She begins to teach herself the basics. She starts joining forums frequented by novices and professionals alike. She carries her DSLR camera around with her every where and takes photographs at every opportunity. She invests in editing software and explores the endless possibilities.<br />
<br />
<em>Picture this</em>:<br />
<br />
She starts to develop her own style. She notices she is truly happy behind the camera. She notices when the clouds diffuse the light just right. When backlighting transforms her subjects into angels on earth. When she nails exposure in camera. When she captures a natural, relaxed gesture from a subject that exposes heart and soul. <br />
<br />
<em>Picture this</em>:<br />
<br />
People start to take notice. They ask her to take pictures - and she doesn't say no. She <em>asks</em> people if she can photograph them. <br />
<br />
<em>Picture This</em>: <br />
<br />
She starts a Blog dedicated to her love of Photography. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://sweetbrowniesphotography.blogspot.com/">http://sweetbrowniesphotography.blogspot.com/</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-1405876397225512852013-02-13T09:46:00.000-05:002013-02-13T09:46:26.898-05:00Moment in TimeWe've all had Bad Days. <br />
<br />
But have you ever had a day you wanted to freeze in time because it seemed too good to be true? A day when all the stars seem to align in your favor and your heart threatens too burst with gratitude?<br />
<br />
I had a day like that last week. I remember purposefully looking up to the sky and thanking God in that very moment. For that day and for His hand in everything leading up to That Day. I looked down at my son as we were playing in the backyard and was all of a sudden humbled by how blessed I am. <br />
<br />
All days aren't going to be Red Letter. But knowing that everyday has the potential to be that way gives me that extra fuel to motor through what ever I have to confront around the next corner.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-66619590021794491002013-02-09T18:21:00.001-05:002013-02-09T18:21:38.457-05:00Raincoat<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/oyE4LVA5JY0" width="480"></iframe><br />
<em><strong>I'm going to throw out my raincoat</strong></em><br />
<em><strong>Mmm, I hope it's all right</strong></em><br />
<em><strong>Gonna go find me a rainbow</strong></em><br />
<em><strong>And hang it up in the sky</strong></em><br />
<em><strong>Blues pass me by</strong></em><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
This song was playing in Safeway. One time. Months ago. I didn't know the title. I didn't know who sang it. But I knew I couldn't get the melody out of my head. Eventually, I tracked it on down on iTunes after Googling fragments of the lyrics.<br />
<br />
Not only does she sound like an angel, but the words make me happy.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-65162618467144386212013-01-30T12:00:00.001-05:002013-01-30T12:00:42.227-05:00Wordless Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXC0_5AFDaqWK8jeuog7G5JkIw7En6_lpt80j7lWANGFXjmIRoomvx6P6ggH8Rptq9wlxuuzUhgO61_vJizwBcDsbXlf4pRLj429U5vWEeCV7B99lbk9w5Btwm36iP1gbaQGmSjZ2tYJE/s1600/IMG_3778_edited-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXC0_5AFDaqWK8jeuog7G5JkIw7En6_lpt80j7lWANGFXjmIRoomvx6P6ggH8Rptq9wlxuuzUhgO61_vJizwBcDsbXlf4pRLj429U5vWEeCV7B99lbk9w5Btwm36iP1gbaQGmSjZ2tYJE/s320/IMG_3778_edited-3.jpg" width="206" /></a></div>
<br />Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-1501604065103709862013-01-29T21:55:00.000-05:002013-01-29T21:55:06.974-05:00Open Letter to My Happily Married Friends<em>*</em>I didn't write this letter. But change the name and a few details, and I easily could have.<br />
<em></em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>Dear Happily Married Friends,
</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>You may remember me as a twosome. I was married for a long time. <strong>I
had a husband.</strong> And then we decided to separate and divorce. Now I'm
just Becky, on her own.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>First and foremost, let me say that I am truly glad that you're married and
in love, that you're working on fixing that leaky roof and redecorating the
master bath. I think that sounds like more fun than wrestling <strong>Cameron
Diaz</strong> in a vat of baked beans. Honestly.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>But I'm going to have to talk to you about something I've wanted to say since
my husband and I split in July.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>Divorce, unlike this flu I can't seem to shake, is not contagious.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>I know, I know -- it may seem like I'm dying of divorce. But I can
assure you I'm not. I'm okay; I'm going to survive. I know this because I'm a
nurse and I watch a lot of hospital drama shows -- which, when you combine the
two, pretty much makes me a doctor.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>I've seen the way you look at me now and it's not in an "Oh, that darn Becky
and her foolish hijinks!" way any longer. I see the pity and the sadness and I
understand it. <strong>Getting a divorce sucks.</strong> I'm not sugarcoating it
and I hope like hell it won't happen to you and your loving partner.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>But I see something else underneath it, too. I know it's there because I used
to feel it when my own friends struggled with divorce: it's a sort of smugness,
and I'm here, talking to you through keystrokes on my computer, to tell you that
you should probably rethink that attitude. I wish I had.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>See, I didn't get all dressed up in the foofy white dress, march down the
aisle, and say my vows in front of everyone I knew with the intention that I
would one day be Becky, As Herself, again. Like anyone who gets married, I knew
divorce wasn't an option. At least, I told myself it wasn't an option because we
were going to make it, dammit!</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em><strong>Things don't always work out as planned</strong>, my dear married
friends. Even with every intention of staying married, my husband and I grew
apart. There's no one person, no catalyst, no particular reason for it, and most
importantly, there's no one at fault. Just like it takes two to get married (in
most states), it takes two to destroy one.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>No, no, don't back away from the computer horrified. I'm not trying to tell
you that this will be the Ghosts of Divorce Future for you, not at all. You'll
probably be just fine, happy as clams under your new roof and redone master
bath. It'll be beautiful and rosy, just like you two.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>But in the event that it doesn't (no, not trying to be a fearmonger, just
trying to be honest about this and level with you), maybe you can remember the
words I typed on a blank computer screen and remember that if it happens, if you
do get divorced,<strong> it's not the end of your world</strong>. Nor are you
contagious.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>It's just the start of a new life. And while those of us who have been or are
going through a divorce don't forget where we've come from, we also know that
we'll live. It's a hard road, my dear friends, and it's full of bumps and pot
holes and things that scare you damn near outta your skin, but I promise you one
thing: it won't kill you.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>There is life after divorce. I promise.</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>Love You,</em><br />
<em>
</em><br />
<em>Becky, As Herself</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<br />
Reposted from "Aunt Becky"<br />
<a href="http://www.thestir.cafemom..com/">www.thestir.cafemom..com</a>Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-84510528944523376502013-01-23T21:59:00.000-05:002013-01-23T21:59:52.334-05:00Wordless Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO_jTNIQ1qjCrPiQ2h-DWhliIUB3DGQFmMfQ6gZAS3laT3uzGVOq0JUt76_xgBJQYCjJLeByBtXfTf4rLrV3rVhz4vxWWiRj5NpOR8HZlkA0Zylj9h4KjKnat_lVCF4lZHPJ8qEbJG6Cc/s1600/IMG_3472_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO_jTNIQ1qjCrPiQ2h-DWhliIUB3DGQFmMfQ6gZAS3laT3uzGVOq0JUt76_xgBJQYCjJLeByBtXfTf4rLrV3rVhz4vxWWiRj5NpOR8HZlkA0Zylj9h4KjKnat_lVCF4lZHPJ8qEbJG6Cc/s320/IMG_3472_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-61965473863547200242013-01-21T23:50:00.003-05:002013-01-21T23:50:49.347-05:00From MLK to BHO to my SON<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_5iXnRw6NNhZ1MPjySIFHBRmM2jNGxdsZ4yOsCta89QpMpRip3hnKwc6Evq3v1FzBBXyADD61MnkZZfZNcbgM3X6MZfr-qm6xTCV3nb88_8pa28_5_Iu3b0neOwlML1oV4E9j_M8s-RI/s1600/IMG_3389_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_5iXnRw6NNhZ1MPjySIFHBRmM2jNGxdsZ4yOsCta89QpMpRip3hnKwc6Evq3v1FzBBXyADD61MnkZZfZNcbgM3X6MZfr-qm6xTCV3nb88_8pa28_5_Iu3b0neOwlML1oV4E9j_M8s-RI/s320/IMG_3389_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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With all the pageantry it deserved, today's Inauguration of Barack Obama to his second term as President of the United States of America did not disappoint. And on the Martin Luther King, Jr., Holiday, no less. </div>
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Black Americans shouldn't be the only ones proud on this day. </div>
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ALL Americans should be.</div>
<br />Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-24332842883149447002013-01-16T22:12:00.002-05:002013-01-16T22:12:59.555-05:00Wordless Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGdciym0iZCOrnUVNvGcJIn9_Xu_PFSM1bTySj9300Uz5ufx4cYNX1Pj2j3-PB7q3zUvK4bUrdRm02R9Pi2CJYvmGSgFCyXVgIGL2RfHXKQTKVu586UKifyj1vVpcvpt3Yse3xvScIVzo/s1600/MCP+3+Opening+Timeline+Cover+Template.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGdciym0iZCOrnUVNvGcJIn9_Xu_PFSM1bTySj9300Uz5ufx4cYNX1Pj2j3-PB7q3zUvK4bUrdRm02R9Pi2CJYvmGSgFCyXVgIGL2RfHXKQTKVu586UKifyj1vVpcvpt3Yse3xvScIVzo/s320/MCP+3+Opening+Timeline+Cover+Template.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-38890827201072368002013-01-15T21:33:00.001-05:002013-01-15T21:33:53.480-05:00Peek-A-Boo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7YVqdKqwbF6b-ga6DpXpVZRn7X7JyOHNAWQT_EgF0ZQ-nvS3ZSD4bYZEvwTygxxSYpNOOMRN7894VUpzdaAvi9Gfue2vmVIOjGiHqLar0KD6SVToWHCV4datkrEX8caqsGEi2yDF5XHQ/s1600/IMG_3283_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7YVqdKqwbF6b-ga6DpXpVZRn7X7JyOHNAWQT_EgF0ZQ-nvS3ZSD4bYZEvwTygxxSYpNOOMRN7894VUpzdaAvi9Gfue2vmVIOjGiHqLar0KD6SVToWHCV4datkrEX8caqsGEi2yDF5XHQ/s320/IMG_3283_edited-1.jpg" width="291" /></a></div>
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DJ, our Chinese Dwarf Hamster. Someone needs to define "dwarf" for him, because he hasn't stopped growing in the past year and a half we've had him.</div>
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<br />Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-47422687660545651702013-01-09T22:24:00.001-05:002013-01-09T22:24:46.745-05:00The Return of Wordless Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ65FCtOlw7iYSma_uff8sO__IscesS8-qHYGDEtr4ctUm9pWG1yh9MFMW45PaSl2AGU2wYUupMAwS39Jtq1z5EDS9g-SIjkKNq67cORQKAvJ5vDwvD2HFxZe82KwtcrGpnOXpmoNZJz4/s1600/wildpig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ65FCtOlw7iYSma_uff8sO__IscesS8-qHYGDEtr4ctUm9pWG1yh9MFMW45PaSl2AGU2wYUupMAwS39Jtq1z5EDS9g-SIjkKNq67cORQKAvJ5vDwvD2HFxZe82KwtcrGpnOXpmoNZJz4/s320/wildpig.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-32261044907909323482013-01-07T23:59:00.001-05:002013-01-07T23:59:14.205-05:00In the RAW{ahem}<br />
<br />
I am now shooting photography totally in RAW and in M!!!<br />
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{chirp, chirp, chirp}</div>
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Maybe I should explain. </div>
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Today's digital SLR cameras come loaded with various modes for taking pictures. You can have as much or as little control of the images as you want. For years, I shot in completely automatic mode (AUTO), which is fine. But many photographers prefer the freedom of manual mode (M), which requires a decent understanding of lighting, exposure, aperture, ISO, shutter speed, blah, blah, blah. (It's more like a rite of passage). One of the first images I was able to capture in M was the fireworks shown above - something I never would have been able to pull off in AUTO.</div>
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Shooting in RAW was another huge step for me (not to be confused with shooting in THE raw *blush*). In RAW, the image captured by the camera is basically pure and unaltered, which means I have better control of the final product during the editing process. I can tweak to my taste without the opinion of the camera. </div>
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But some of the most fun has been learning how to rid pictures of random objects that weren't noticed before the snap of the shutter. Like this fence post that photobombed Baby Brownie. A few YouTube tutorials later and my Lil' Unicorn was no more:</div>
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And it didn't hurt him a bit.</div>
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Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-34990909300135347702013-01-06T21:20:00.000-05:002013-01-06T21:20:04.006-05:00Obama, Aspie; Aspie, Obama<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<em>The Oldest Brownie had the opportunity to meet <strong>President Barack Obama</strong> last year at a special White House screening of "Men in Black 3". Although this picture doesn't depict it, she has come far in maintaining eye-contact in social situations. It is an enormous challenge for someone with Asperger's. I'm just relieved she didn't pull out the germaphobe softball glove she carries around in case of emergencies. I guess the Leader of the Free World gets a pass.</em><br />
Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-27476465061482105932013-01-05T20:06:00.000-05:002013-01-05T20:15:41.847-05:00Fake it Until You Make it<em><strong>Truth is I’m weak<br />No strength to fight<br />No tears to cry<br />Even if I tried<br />But still my soul<br />Refuses to die<br />One touch will change my life</strong></em><br />
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"Take Me To The King" ~ sung by Tamela Mann<br />
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People don't ask me how I am doing as much as they used to. At the beginning of my transition, it must have been written all over my face. Truth is, I was battling debilitating depression and struggling with daily anxiety. Looking back at photos from that season in my life is both striking and sad. A profound, full-color, and startling personification of a broken heart and yet a reminder of the the sheer will to live.<br />
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Some days I could barely function. Life became a series of "must-do" tasks. Eating, sleeping, and any activities that brought even the most remote possibility of leisure was not a priority. Keeping my kids fed, clean, and clothed was Job #1. Smiles were forced and usually accompanied by a nervous giggle. It followed just about every sentence that came out of my mouth - appropriately punctuating it or not. I was scared. I'm a glass-half-full kind of gal. Of course there were reasons to smile, but faking it was the only way I knew for sure.<br />
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Then one day while we driving home from school one of the Brownies made a hilarious quip - and that's when I heard "it". A familiar, gut-busting laugh coming from deep inside of me. It started in my belly and worked its way up and out of my mouth with the effervescence of soda bubbles. Once I realized that joy had been inside of me all long, through even my darkest days - I began to weep. My bewildered children must have thought their poor mother had finally lost it completely. (Not only that, but I've developed this habit of <em>snorting</em> after a belly laugh, but not with any warning. So yeah, that was a fun ride).<br />
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From that day, I knew I was going to be OK. My nervous laughter disappeared as noticeably as it had appeared months prior. Replacing it was real laughter - the song of my soul. Reminding me that yes - some days it's harder to do it than others, but every single day holds the promise of delivering a real smile...<br />
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...and a sinus-clearing, child-frightening, ear-shattering, "Did my Mommy just do that?!" snort.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-24462580384063866552013-01-04T22:22:00.000-05:002013-01-04T22:22:04.929-05:00Stressed Backwards is "Desserts"I am officially finished Christmas shopping. Yes, the Holidays have come and gone and I am just getting around to scratching the last person off of My List. <br />
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December is typically a busy month , especially with the Middle Brownie's birthday smack dab in the middle of The Season. Not to mention the added stress of mediation and court dates last month. So in an effort to unclutter my mind, I brought simplicity back. Instead of running around at the last minute, I made the surprisingly easy decision to skip Christmas cards and purchase "New Year's Treats" for the army of folks in our lives at after-the-holidays prices.<br />
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The best part? I overcame my apprehension of parallel parking and snagged a space with time left on the meter - right in front of the gift shop. Score!<br />
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A free dark chocolate truffle never hurts either.<br />
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Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-15517553496358941852013-01-03T20:50:00.002-05:002013-01-03T20:50:26.459-05:00Happy New YearWell hello there. It's been a while. Four months to be exact. This year is shaping up to be quite the sequel to 2012 - a year that far exceeded my expectations. Things didn't go as I had planned; they went much better than that - thanks to God's Plans.<br />
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So away we go...Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-701351136643250102012-09-18T17:59:00.000-04:002012-09-18T17:59:05.672-04:00Breaking My Silence...Sort OfMany times I have wanted to post a Blog Entry entitled "Me: Exposed". But I felt like too much of me was already "out there". So I started to pull back from my regular blog writing. I never really stopped writing. But it was in old school paper-n-pen diary. For months, that was my safe place.<br />
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I'm back now. It has been an epic journey for me. A journey that may offer enlightenment to someone else. Maybe not unique in the overall picture, but tailor-made to teach me, strengthen my resolve, and help me grow. <br />
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<em>Eye-opening events. </em><br />
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<em>Life-altering moments. </em><br />
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<em>Lessons learned. </em><br />
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<em>Life being lived. </em><br />
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<em>Love being shared. </em><br />
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Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-39033194869155946672012-08-15T17:48:00.001-04:002012-08-15T17:48:13.871-04:00New Vision<em>Since you've been gone</em><br />
<em>I can breathe for the first time</em><br />
<em>I'm so moving on, </em><br />
<em>Yeah, yeah</em><br />
<em>Thanks to you</em><br />
<em>Now I get, I get what I want</em><br />
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~ Kelly Clarkson<br />
"Since You've Been Gone"<br />
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Have you heard that song, "Somebody I used to Know" by Goyte? I don't even know the correct pronunciation of "Goyte", but I do know that his/her/their song gets me going. I'm finding myself into all kinds of music these days. Classical Music is becoming one of my favorites. A song without lyrics can be just as revealing as haunting lyrics. And it's subjective, kind of like photography.<br />
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This summer I've been conducting my Photography 101 home school course. My goal is to learn something new every day. The Internet has some great places to research and study the rules, mistakes, and enthusiasm for Shutterbugs like me. I read somewhere that the only photographer I need to compare myself to is the one I used to be. <br />
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I think that can apply to life in general.<br />
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Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-27020190169121996122012-08-14T18:34:00.003-04:002012-08-14T18:34:57.182-04:00Missing in Action<em>PINTEREST.</em><br />
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That's where I have been. <br />
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:) Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-20946043192617178202012-08-12T00:28:00.000-04:002012-08-12T00:28:03.819-04:00Recent Life in Pictures - Part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju1KLuiV-shLg8A3sXTCEZhnpCDp8WVZ6xeBD8x8ztNKzI4y5lxP72Xo0ASc76ozeuL4QnmAgrKWxUXWs-OOgVOXYcojgptqfkCZkY5zAQB17Y-2RbteT2rKJcCQ6bz6MJSdxv3L71Mk4x/s1600/drmwrks+103-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" kda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju1KLuiV-shLg8A3sXTCEZhnpCDp8WVZ6xeBD8x8ztNKzI4y5lxP72Xo0ASc76ozeuL4QnmAgrKWxUXWs-OOgVOXYcojgptqfkCZkY5zAQB17Y-2RbteT2rKJcCQ6bz6MJSdxv3L71Mk4x/s320/drmwrks+103-001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkImpEf2BN5ifvfJoBU-VKBm69K7OqlPASMm4QY8kCLDG5eTxoEJso5saBzI1j81hDElwJAcsX9cnva_M-nIAsEKaLbTMXWmFz7Hxx35JBWUcc9vxj_8viFgplUTWtsfIHvkQxyK_XxqQ/s1600/goldenhour+079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="123" kda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkImpEf2BN5ifvfJoBU-VKBm69K7OqlPASMm4QY8kCLDG5eTxoEJso5saBzI1j81hDElwJAcsX9cnva_M-nIAsEKaLbTMXWmFz7Hxx35JBWUcc9vxj_8viFgplUTWtsfIHvkQxyK_XxqQ/s320/goldenhour+079.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-494486874100795182012-07-06T14:48:00.000-04:002012-07-06T14:49:14.111-04:00The Sweetest Thing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAyWROpcVlonPOj_KlveBPDz9LHt9Xyc_znjv85uZkXqo8jtdbRcYAInxAa1IMlIZ-zW0JYuHefPW35cUlHjXYQZWvY_ZNV2rU3DYaRn0HpqylQh0Hox93EG3lae9Eo0wVxe8Ht-LptDOP/s1600/winning_pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAyWROpcVlonPOj_KlveBPDz9LHt9Xyc_znjv85uZkXqo8jtdbRcYAInxAa1IMlIZ-zW0JYuHefPW35cUlHjXYQZWvY_ZNV2rU3DYaRn0HpqylQh0Hox93EG3lae9Eo0wVxe8Ht-LptDOP/s400/winning_pic.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
This grainy, out-of-focus picture taken of me presenting Isaiah with his Special Olympics "Challenge Day" medal this past spring helped us win our own prize. <i>Sweet.</i><br />
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<br />Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02479345204252020874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860215460628568923.post-81910057300771207692012-06-19T23:08:00.001-04:002012-06-19T23:08:27.754-04:00Recent Life in Pictures: Part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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