<?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-3739275</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:47:36.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jenny's Heart &amp; Home</title><subtitle type='html'>jennysilliman@gmail.com</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>53</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-113380440189028802</id><published>2005-12-05T09:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T05:37:23.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>(Updated October 2008.)Welcome to the blog of Jenny Silliman!I am a homemaker, a wife to Cliff since 1980 and a mother of eight wonderful children ages 26 to 5, as of this writing, Fall 2008. I am a Christian with a desire to encourage others as they seek to follow the Lord Jesus. I especially enjoy sharing and encouraging other mothers and homemakers. I have an e-newsletter (to subscribe send a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113380440189028802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113380440189028802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2005_12_04_archive.html#113380440189028802' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-113379958093653092</id><published>2005-12-05T08:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T12:36:51.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Proverbs 31 Woman Coloring BookOriginally uploaded by jenniferesilliman. The Proverbs 31 WomanColoring BookBy Jenny SillimanUSA $5.00The 28 coloring pages from seven years of Joyful Heart magazine (no longer in publication) have all been compiled into a coloring book for girls of all ages. Jenny’s delightful drawings picture women busy with activities such as cooking, sewing and gardening. On</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113379958093653092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113379958093653092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2005_12_04_archive.html#113379958093653092' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-113379935048695507</id><published>2005-12-05T08:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-05T08:15:50.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A peek inside The Proverbs 31 Woman Coloring Book</title><summary type='text'>     A peek inside The Proverbs 31 Woman Coloring Book    Originally uploaded by jenniferesilliman. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113379935048695507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113379935048695507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2005_12_04_archive.html#113379935048695507' title='A peek inside The Proverbs 31 Woman Coloring Book'/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-113379905344348024</id><published>2005-12-05T08:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T05:43:55.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Say Yes To LifeOriginally uploaded by jenniferesilliman. Say Yes To LifeBy Jenny SillimanUSA $5.00A poem in which a mother shares her struggle to obey God’s command to be fruitful and multiply and let Him be Lord in the area of birth control. Includes a reading list, an Introduction by Cliff Silliman, and twenty “Say Yes To Life” Scriptures. How do you view children? The Bible says children are a</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113379905344348024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113379905344348024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2005_12_04_archive.html#113379905344348024' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-113379889704942251</id><published>2005-12-05T08:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T12:39:19.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jenny's Twenty ListsOriginally uploaded by jenniferesilliman. Jenny's Twenty Listsfor the HomemakerBy Jenny SillimanUSA $7.001. 12 Table Manners2. 30 Meal Ideas for Monthly Planning3. Grocery List For Reproduction4. Twenty Housekeeping Hints5. List of Kitchen Supplies6. 12 Ways to Have More Energy7. Twenty Tips for Better Sleep8. Twenty House Cleaning Time Savers9. 100 Read Aloud Childrens' </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113379889704942251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113379889704942251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2005_12_04_archive.html#113379889704942251' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-113379864560631696</id><published>2005-12-05T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T12:40:11.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Home RemediesOriginally uploaded by jenniferesilliman. Home RemediesBy Jenny Silliman $5 plus shippingA helpful illustrated booklet packed with helpful ideas.Chapter Titles:"Grandma Treatment" for ColdsHerbs, A Gift from GodEar Cleaning and Ear CandlesHoney for Health and HealingApple Cider VinegarHow to Have More EnergyDepression Remedies from the Bible</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113379864560631696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113379864560631696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2005_12_04_archive.html#113379864560631696' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-113367966240358378</id><published>2005-12-03T22:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T12:42:45.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ORDER FORMfor booklets by Jenny SillimanQuantity Title Price______ Proverbs 31 Woman Coloring Book $5.00 __________ Say Yes To Life $5.00 __________Jenny's Twenty Lists $7.00 __________Home Remedies $5.00 __________Breastfeeding &amp; Fertility $12____SHIPPING $____Shipping is $5 per order in U.S. for 1 to 7 booklets.For a larger order please contact Jenny for shipping cost.Total enclosed: $ ______</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113367966240358378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/113367966240358378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2005_11_27_archive.html#113367966240358378' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-94395288</id><published>2003-05-15T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-05-15T08:50:46.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>For Mama's Eyes Only Last night I snuggled up with seven-week-old Baby Peter and we were ready for a nurse when I glanced down at him with love filled eyes and found him returning the sentiments. He gazed at me with the utmost of love andappreciation with his wide open blue eyes, curled up lashes and gaping mouth. I said to Cliff, "Honey, can you look over my shoulder for a minute?"  Cliff </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/94395288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/94395288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94395288' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-91061573</id><published>2003-03-20T07:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-03-20T07:12:09.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jenny's Journal: "Follow that Cool Belly!"by Jenny Silliman jennysilliman@juno.comMarch 20, 2003 Question: When a couple is expecting a baby any day, what do ya get when the mother wears size XL and the father, that stands at 6 foot 3, and also wears size XL? A. An XL baby belly.B. A public spectacle.C. A conversation topic.***D. All of the above. *** You guessed right! I'm not a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/91061573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/91061573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2003_03_16_archive.html#91061573' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-90444301</id><published>2003-03-09T23:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-03-09T23:44:28.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jenny's Twenty Beautiful Birth Ideasjennysilliman@juno.com  March 8, 2003 The birth of a child, an eternal life, is a holy event. With somethought, preparation and planning, a birth can be an incredibly beautifuloccasion. The presence of God is awesome--the sense of His nearness givesyou the awareness you are participating in something sacred. This time ofbonding and closeness, not only </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/90444301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/90444301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2003_03_09_archive.html#90444301' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-89477056</id><published>2003-02-20T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-02-20T20:31:13.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>February 2003"Vitamin C Reduces Labor Pain By Half!" by Jenny Silliman jennysilliman@juno.com  (Please feel free to forward this e-mail!) VITAMIN C REDUCES LABOR PAIN!Excerpt taken from the book:  "Prescription for Nutritional Healing" 1933, 1990 by Dr. Balch, Page 269:         "Nutritional Health in Pregnancy        Vitamin C, suggested dosage 1,000 to 4,000 mg         each hour </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/89477056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/89477056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2003_02_16_archive.html#89477056' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-89416711</id><published>2003-02-19T22:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-02-19T22:15:36.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Today is my 45th birthday! I am looking forward to celebrating with family and friends. Fresh strawberries for breakfast!  One of our sons commented: "Wow! Mama, you have lived a long, long time! I can't imagine living 45 years!" LOL For special birthday gifts our boys are helping me do some gardening and some household "fix its" and Valerie is going to help me sew up two new blouses so I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/89416711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/89416711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2003_02_16_archive.html#89416711' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-87690273</id><published>2003-01-19T11:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-01-19T11:54:09.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"The Baby Dresser"by Jenny Silliman jennysilliman@juno.comJanuary 14, 2003 I have used the baby dresser for several of our children. It was a garagesale find and used to be orange. I had it stripped and I painted itivory. After a couple of moves, and much use, it is scraped up and badlyin need of a new coat of paint. Recently, with the "nesting" instinct ofour baby due in less than ten </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/87690273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/87690273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2003_01_19_archive.html#87690273' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-87690251</id><published>2003-01-19T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-01-19T11:53:22.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Our apologies to all who come to this blog to find nothing new. I, Jenny's daughter will now be posting the things my mother writes and hopefully that will increase the frequency. My mother is due in 9 weeks, and her mind is on things such as painting baby dressers. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/87690251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/87690251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2003_01_19_archive.html#87690251' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-84932427</id><published>2002-11-22T09:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-22T09:47:41.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Potty TrainOnce a friend stopped by when we were potty training Stephen several years ago. She asked, "Are you potty training?" Stephen only heard the part about the train and started chug chugging around the room and and shouting, "Choo choo!"This has stuck as an inside joke in our family. Sometimes as someone empties the potty chair one of us will say, "Chugga chugga choo choo!" We </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/84932427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/84932427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_11_17_archive.html#84932427' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-84255844</id><published>2002-11-08T16:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-08T16:33:41.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Baby Thoughts at 20 Weeks Yep. 3 am. I'm awake again. I've already gone to the bathroom two times.Well, I'll just sit here in my chair awhile because I'm wide awake.  I feel Baby flutter kick. Aha. Baby is awake too. Yes, I remember now.God, You are just getting me ready for those precious middle-of-the-nightwide-awake-baby feed-and-play-and-get-to-know-each-other times.  I'm twenty </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/84255844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/84255844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_11_03_archive.html#84255844' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-83890185</id><published>2002-11-01T12:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-01T12:49:33.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jenny's Take Off on the Rubber Duckie Song(Hint: Have fun with your little ones, Mama!)Mama Darlin'You're the oneYou make bath time So much funMama Darlin'I'm awfully fond of you.Every time youPut me into the tubbyThat is when you start to singin'"Scrubba dubba dubby."Mama Darlin'You're the oneYou make bath time So much funMama Darlin'I'm awfully fond ofMama Darlin' I'm </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/83890185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/83890185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_10_27_archive.html#83890185' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-83216803</id><published>2002-10-19T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-19T09:28:38.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sharing Silliman Smiles As Luke (he will be 3 years old next Friday) snuggled next to me in bedthis morning I quoted him this poem. Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear.Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair.Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't fuzzyWas he? Luke's reply, "He no bear. He bee." I guess, to Luke, Fuzzy Wuzzy is more buzzy than fuzzy.  So I decided to try another one. Mares eat oats andDoes eat oats andLittle </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/83216803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/83216803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_10_13_archive.html#83216803' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-82795038</id><published>2002-10-10T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-10T08:37:43.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>God's Provision--a Continuation of Jenny's House StoryAre you in suspense? Good! Oh, it is so fun for me to write of God's glorious provision of a house, and not just any old house but an honest to goodness HOME for the Silliman family here in Sequim, Washington. Sequim (pronounced skwim, rhymes with swim) is located about 50 miles east of the Pacific Coast and we live only 8 miles from the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82795038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82795038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_10_06_archive.html#82795038' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-82691954</id><published>2002-10-08T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-08T08:36:27.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Seattle and PoetryYesterday Valerie and I had a day in the city, the city of Seattle. Valerie drove the whole time with her permit which was wonderful practice for her and she did an excellent job. We took the ferry and enjoyed standing out on deck. In returning to our car to disembark we misplaced it for about five panicky minutes, but we found it right where we left it.  City driving with </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82691954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82691954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_10_06_archive.html#82691954' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-82557018</id><published>2002-10-05T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-05T07:17:04.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>As school is now in full swing again and the apple harvest season is upon us, I came upon this poem that our family enjoys and I thought you might enjoy it too!The Apple Pie AlphabetBy Kate GreenawayA is an apple pie;B bit it;C cut it;D dealt it;E got to eat it;F fought for it;G got it;H had it;I ignored it;J jumped for it;K kept it;L lunched on it;M munched on it;O opened it;P</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82557018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82557018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82557018' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-82521494</id><published>2002-10-04T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-04T09:30:17.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What About College?Yesterday I received a question about how a young adult could go to college if they had not schooled traditionally, used textbooks, or fulfilled government school requirements. We've been through this so I'm a good one to answer this question and I can at least share our experience. You know you kind of would like to keep all your children tidy and safe, lined up on the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82521494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82521494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82521494' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-82468148</id><published>2002-10-03T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-03T07:51:00.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Question of Textbooks&gt; Dear Jenny,&gt; &gt; I'm just taking a break from teaching my 4 year old how to read &gt; with "Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons" and I &gt; read your answer to Pamela's question.  It hit home with me.  &gt; I'm bashing him over the head with lesson 6 and getting nowhere.  &gt;So, how do you teach your children &gt; to read if it's not from a textbook?&gt; How do you let</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82468148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82468148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82468148' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-82463047</id><published>2002-10-03T05:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-03T07:49:40.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Homeschooling Mother Quote"Housework, sewing, customers: how, when you have your work always in your hands, do you keep four children from straying?…She kept us on the long leash of an endless rope of language, looping and knotting us as firmly to her as ever she stitched edge to edge in a seam…. Like a conjurer she kept us busy, kept us interested, kept us occupied, kept us fascinated, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82463047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82463047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82463047' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-82452373</id><published>2002-10-02T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-02T21:36:34.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>New TemplateI have shed the confining blogskin that I outgrew. Ahhh... Room to stretch out and enjoy my verbosity.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82452373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82452373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82452373' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-82315198</id><published>2002-09-30T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-30T08:04:30.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Love ImmeasurableI always ask my children if they know how much I love them. They know the answer to the question. "You love me oceans and oceans full." When Valerie and I came home from the Above Rubies retreat there was much hugging and kissing like we had been gone for weeks instead of two nights. Stephen asked, "Do you know how much I love you, Mama?" I didn't know. He told me. "I love </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82315198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82315198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82315198' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-82314426</id><published>2002-09-30T07:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-30T07:50:03.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Teach the Love of LearningDear Jenny,Hello. I have been wondering something. How did you have time to teach your daughter to quilt. I read in something you sent about that. How do you teach things like that and book work? We want our children to have abundant living skills. We live on a farm. They know much about raising animals and caring for them. Our son who is 9 is able to do " man's" work</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82314426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82314426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82314426' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-82233237</id><published>2002-09-28T06:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-28T06:04:21.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Baby UpdateThree questions I am commonly asked regarding my pregnancy. How are you feeling? How far along are you? How far along were you last time? I am feeling great. I am 13 weeks. Our precious Baby Sol died at 17 weeks and was miscarried at 20 weeks. The next six weeks we will continue to pray, but even harder, for God's grace and peace to carry me and my family through. Stephen, age 5,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82233237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/82233237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_22_archive.html#82233237' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81768352</id><published>2002-09-18T05:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-18T05:02:53.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>We Lifted Up Our Voice to God in UnityWant a faith booster?Remember how I wrote about my friend Jo and how, just as we were trying to buy our house, she was trying to trust God with the SALE of her house, that has been for sale to no avail for months and months? They had only 3 weeks left till escrow closed on the house they bought in CA near their children. Remember how after lunch we went </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81768352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81768352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_15_archive.html#81768352' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81648846</id><published>2002-09-15T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-15T17:58:55.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mud Flinging FillimanLuke, age 2, is devoted to his brother Stephen, age 5. He copies everything Stephen says and does. I told Stephen I wrote all about him on my blog because he is so interesting. And, of course, Luke said, "Me too!" Yesterday Luke got a bee sting. Well you wouldn't believe where! Yep, the same exact place as Stephen, inner upper thigh, and even the same leg! I wouldn't have </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81648846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81648846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_15_archive.html#81648846' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81592027</id><published>2002-09-14T04:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-14T04:59:51.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Bee UnderstandingAfter a bee sting on the inner upper thigh our five-year-old son, Stephen, has had quite and interest in the creatures. We pulled out three books on bees and have read all about the queen, drone and worker bees, how the hive functions, and the parts of the bee. The stinger full of poison positioned on the head of the worker bee has quite captured Stevie's attention as the mud </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81592027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81592027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81592027' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81591835</id><published>2002-09-14T04:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-14T04:43:04.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Questioning AtheistOur third born, our son David, is almost 16. He works part time with a Christian man doing remodeling on a restaurant. He told us he not only likes David’s work he likes working with David. We have watched our son blossom. He is enjoying an ongoing conversation with a questioning atheist. The atheist told David he should get away from his parents to find out their faith is</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81591835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81591835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81591835' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81506419</id><published>2002-09-12T07:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-12T07:18:14.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Manipulative MathMama, "David, did you do your math today?"David, "Well I did some math. When my alarm went off this morning I figured out how many more minutes of sleep I had before I had to get up."Mama, "Did you also figure out you have two lessons of math to do tomorrow?"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81506419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81506419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81506419' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81457534</id><published>2002-09-11T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-11T07:40:44.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Reminiscent of ChariotsAfter his first cross country meet David was asked by a younger brother, "Did you win?"David's response: "It is not about winning. It is about learning to run and running my best."David ran, on an average, a twelve minute mile. (Three miles total on uneven terrain!) My "brisk" two mile walk in the morning takes me about an hour. Oh to be 16 again! (Ha! Don't kid </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81457534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81457534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81457534' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81457478</id><published>2002-09-11T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-11T07:39:30.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>'Notherworld AwarenessComment by David, (age 16 end of Sept.) on the way to Sequim High School for his first cross country meet: "Sequim High School students live in a whole 'nother world."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81457478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81457478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81457478' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81457451</id><published>2002-09-11T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-11T07:38:53.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Trusting in SovereigntyWe are going to see another loan officer today. One that supposedly helps people like us with low credit scores. God's sovereignty is a comfort. Either we begin to pay a mortgage here, or come November we will be moving. There is a third option actually. Some how the Lord God could provide 170,000 dollars for a debt free home.I am peacefully singing that ol' Doris Day</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81457451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81457451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81457451' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81405214</id><published>2002-09-10T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-10T07:26:29.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Subjective RealityAfter being turned down for a house loan yesterday I read _Eeyore Has A Birthday_ for a bedtime story for Stephen and Luke (and me.) I could completely relate to A.A. Milne's delightful scenario of Piglet running pel mel with a big red balloon."Piglet had gone back to his own house to get Eeyore's balloon. He held it very tightly against himself, so that is shouldn't blow away</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81405214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81405214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81405214' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81311290</id><published>2002-09-08T04:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-08T04:50:26.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Muddy DreamsSo, the question is, where does Stephen's mud selling dreams come from? No, I've had no dreams or aspirations to sell mud. Soap I could see myself selling, but not mud. I actually enjoy selling from the small experience I've had at garage sales and a few craft fairs. However, I don't know how Stephen got into mud so deep. He must get that from Daddy.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81311290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81311290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81311290' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81304739</id><published>2002-09-07T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-07T22:41:20.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Comments AddedHi, this is Valerie talking. I just added Comments to this blog for my mother. So, if she makes you laugh, or reading something she writes makes you think of something to say, leave a comment. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81304739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81304739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81304739' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81275720</id><published>2002-09-07T05:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-07T05:41:52.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>By Joyce KilmerBecause the road was steep and long,And through a dark and lonely land,God set upon my lips a song,And put a lantern in my hand.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81275720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81275720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81275720' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81275648</id><published>2002-09-07T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-07T05:37:53.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Pass the Lantern PleaseHave you ever read the American classic _A Lantern in Her Hand_ by Bess Streeter Aldrich? I too see my dreams unfolding in our children's lives. I wanted to write, be on the school paper--Daniel is doing it (with wit and brilliance I might add and as his mother I would think I should have the privilege of saying so.) I wanted to do a magazine, play the piano, handquilt a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81275648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81275648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81275648' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81232240</id><published>2002-09-06T05:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-06T05:10:37.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Deadly ToeLuke stubbed his big toe yesterday. After his bath last night I pulled him into my lap to clip a little flap of skin with some nail clippers. As he tensed up I reassured him that it wouldn't hurt because it was dead skin. He said, "Yeah somebody shoot it."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81232240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81232240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81232240' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81232050</id><published>2002-09-06T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-06T05:03:27.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Third World MudValerie quilted and watched a video of Elizabeth Elliot speaking about her missionary experiences. Stephen caught a sentence about living in a hut with a mud floor. He was quite enthralled at the idea of a mud floor. You could see the wheels and gears of his five-year-old entrepreneurial mind start turning just thinking about his favorite subject these days. With a dreamy look in</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81232050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81232050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81232050' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81172414</id><published>2002-09-04T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-04T20:37:35.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>All in a DayLuke's Potty Training Statistics:A success rate of one out of six tries.Name of peoples that give nose kissesaccording to a 5 year old:"Neckicles" (Eskimos)Exciting Discovery of the Day:Duplos float!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81172414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81172414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81172414' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81114582</id><published>2002-09-03T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-03T17:15:13.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Muddy ConclusionsToday Stephen (age 5) continued to talk about his favorite topic these days--MUD. He said, "Mama, God likes mud." "He does?" I said with some surprise. Stephen said, "Yep and He made it up. Don't you know God made the first man out of mud?" A while later after some more thought on the subject Stephen said to me: "I wonder how God got the first man to walk? When those mud </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81114582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81114582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81114582' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81087255</id><published>2002-09-03T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-03T06:02:06.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Most PeopleDavid (age almost 16) had some friends over and they ordered pizza. I asked him if he would like some salad with it. He replied, "No, most people don't eat salad with dinner like we do." I nodded my head. Though I didn't say it, I immediately thought of this response. "Yeah, and MOST people die of heart disease or cancer." </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81087255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81087255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81087255' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81071334</id><published>2002-09-02T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-02T20:06:58.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Moment of Silliman SilenceMichael (age 12) said: "For the first time in Silliman history we were quiet for a full minute at the dinner table." </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81071334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81071334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81071334' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-81010239</id><published>2002-09-01T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-01T18:00:52.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Muddy Advice     In reference to his big brother's comment about how he'd probably not patronize Stephen's mud seller establishment, (see "The Glory of Being 5" at www.danielsilliman.blogspot.com) Stephen said: "Daniel doesn't need to come to my mud seller house. He can make his own mud at Hillsdale College. Mud is very useful. Daniel could put mud on his face so he doesn't get a sunburn. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81010239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/81010239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81010239' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-80981792</id><published>2002-08-31T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-31T21:52:32.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>More Bear KissesOur family was invited to pick all the ripe plums off of a tree of one of Cliff's lawn customers. Jan is a sweet widow woman that enjoys interacting with our children and telling us stories of her children long ago. She and I sat on the deck and watched the pickers as they climbed ladders, picked plums, and, of course, ate plums. Luke came over and gave a plum to me.I asked </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/80981792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/80981792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80981792' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-80946419</id><published>2002-08-30T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-30T21:30:29.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Muddy BusinessOur son Stephen (age 5) said to me yesterday: "When I grow up I'm going to be a mud seller. You take some water in a bucket and dig up some dirt and stir it in the water with a stick. If it is too thin you have to put in more dirt and stir it some more."Thomas Building Supply sells mud. We should go ask them how much they are selling it for. They sell the mud because they need</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/80946419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/80946419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80946419' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-80920391</id><published>2002-08-30T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-30T08:40:04.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You Never KnowI had a woman write to me: "You are such a blessing. I bet the women you come incontact with are thrilled to glean the knowledge the Lord has stored up in you."This is my answer which I e-mailed to her:  "Not yet. I am still young actually. People don't really realize how much I've got to say and I think sometimes it is not time yet. You know I often feel I am storing up. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/80920391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/80920391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80920391' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-80920316</id><published>2002-08-30T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-30T08:38:05.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Wonderfulness of SoapOOOh! Soap is wonderful. We just went camping at Sequim Bay State Park for three days with our home church and let me tell you SOAP is a wonderful thing when your whole big ole family is all dirty from camping and you have morning sickness. I could have washed dirt off of faces and fingers every five minutes and it wouldn't have been enough. The moms played Canasta </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/80920316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/80920316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80920316' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3739275.post-80903799</id><published>2002-08-29T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-29T21:45:34.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Bear KissesI woke for the second time. Nine o'clock. I lazily stretch and roll over. I admire my man asleep next to me. My little man, Luke. He blinks, smacks a couple of times and then he too lazily stretches and rolls over. I can tell he is awake or at least awake enough to enjoy a few kisses. I decide to kiss him awake. For best advantage I scootch up. I kiss him on the nape of the neck, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/80903799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3739275/posts/default/80903799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennysilliman.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80903799' title=''/><author><name>Jenny Silliman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12211319766608601145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EvF5sUG5VXU/SOZ5qvIGdwI/AAAAAAAAABU/gbBZ53wDk0E/S220/Jenny+Silliman,+age+50.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
