<?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-10950148</id><updated>2011-11-27T17:29:56.372-07:00</updated><category term='hidin&apos; in by a window.'/><category term='Babeh deer'/><category term='Archives'/><title type='text'>put your feet on the floor</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-7674172943258548426</id><published>2008-10-18T12:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T12:34:58.652-06:00</updated><title type='text'>being a grown up.</title><summary type='text'>Learned an important lesson from a friend today. Dwelling on what could have been is somewhat counterproductive for living in the present, to me that truly is great skill to have. Several Eastern Philosphies are built on that premise. So how does one live in the present, I wondered. He said, "in crisis you have to deal with the present in real terms with an eye towards future consequences."hmmm.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/7674172943258548426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=7674172943258548426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/7674172943258548426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/7674172943258548426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2008/10/being-grown-up.html' title='being a grown up.'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-1669357220018373443</id><published>2008-09-07T15:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:18:05.484-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Choices</title><summary type='text'>We make a choice and then later on think, wow, maybe I should have gone with the other way, maybe I’d have been happier with that choice. People who win lotteries and people who are disabled both get to the same level of contentment with life. Neither group is happier than the other after the initial euphoria of winning and the after the initial despair of becoming disabled. We adapt to how our </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/1669357220018373443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=1669357220018373443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/1669357220018373443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/1669357220018373443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2008/09/choices.html' title='Choices'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-827990556540567663</id><published>2008-09-07T15:43:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:20:38.389-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just made smaller</title><summary type='text'>We live in a community of the World. It’s bizarre to think only 10 years ago we wouldn’t have discussions with someone from Iraq, Iran or Palestine on a daily basis. But because we can now converse regularly with ease, former boundaries have dissolved and we have to reinvent how we view our world, mental picture.We used to have those extraordinary meetings with people you know in your everyday </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/827990556540567663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=827990556540567663' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/827990556540567663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/827990556540567663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2008/09/jmust-made-smaller.html' title='Just made smaller'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-5015023178105673175</id><published>2008-08-22T16:54:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:27:59.996-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Memory</title><summary type='text'>The smallest thing can make a lasting impression and you never know what that memory will be. My daughter remembers going down the slide with her daddy. She was too afraid to go alone so Brad held her on his lap and they both went down together. He bumped hard at the bottom and lost his hold on her and she flew into the air and landed with a bump on the grass on her behind. It looked like she </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/5015023178105673175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=5015023178105673175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/5015023178105673175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/5015023178105673175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2008/08/memory.html' title='Memory'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-4009304736282494488</id><published>2008-08-21T16:14:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:26:22.636-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditating</title><summary type='text'>A young woman I talk to once in a while, (she's 27) asked me if it is common for people to constantly feel anxious about something or other in life. I told her it was. It's the hardest lesson to learn in life, but there will always be a state of anxiety that lingers in the background. Just how one copes with that anxiety is the trick to living our lives we all have to learn. That's the main focus</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/4009304736282494488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=4009304736282494488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/4009304736282494488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/4009304736282494488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2008/08/meditating.html' title='Meditating'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-8868060905642936155</id><published>2008-08-20T16:26:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:30:53.860-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Family</title><summary type='text'>A distant relative wrote a book, Life in Los Sauces. It’s about the area in the San Luis Valley in Southern Colorado. The village of Los Sauces lies a short distance south of the Rio Grande and Conejos RiversIt’s the place where my dad’s parents are from. Both his mom and dad grew up in this area, as did many Marquez’s and Barela’s before them. Los Sauces is a small Spanish village, primarily </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/8868060905642936155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=8868060905642936155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/8868060905642936155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/8868060905642936155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2008/08/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-7518204736428302576</id><published>2008-08-19T11:12:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:32:35.831-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Traveling and Listening and Reading</title><summary type='text'>I drove to Denver and listened to NPR podcasts the entire way there. I never thought I'd be engrossed by the Most Emailed stories for 5.5 hours straight. I guess I have a slight off kilter way of gulping up information. It's the same way I surf the web. I look for one thing and a few hours later I'm looking at something entirely different. Often I didn't find the thing I set out to search for in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/7518204736428302576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=7518204736428302576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/7518204736428302576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/7518204736428302576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2008/08/traveling-and-listening.html' title='Traveling and Listening and Reading'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-5567223849043149825</id><published>2008-08-04T16:53:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T16:58:22.269-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm just waiting for the mother ship.</title><summary type='text'>Matt has on his white board...WWBFD. and I was trying to figure it out, what would big fun do? what would big funny deal.. that didn't work. so I asked. and Matt said, "what would Brett Favre do?" And that answer didn't help me any, "who's Brett Favre" By the the look on his face, I knew I was going to be in big trouble. He runs down the hall grabs Steve, and Steve comes back with that same look </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/5567223849043149825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=5567223849043149825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/5567223849043149825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/5567223849043149825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2008/08/matt-has-on-his-white-board.html' title='I&apos;m just waiting for the mother ship.'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-9054092300787848140</id><published>2008-07-22T10:21:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:39:09.161-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Babeh deer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hidin&apos; in by a window.'/><title type='text'>babeh deer by my door</title><summary type='text'>My husband and I work for our local County. Working in dreary government offices, we have long days. Last week, my husband had visitors come to his window and sniff around. (He's got a window!!!) As he told me, they were jumping and frolicking right outside his window.All these IT guys went outside to take pictures and the deer pretty much just stood around watching them. When the guys got too </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/9054092300787848140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=9054092300787848140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/9054092300787848140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/9054092300787848140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2008/07/babeh-deer-by-my-door.html' title='babeh deer by my door'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8rtG5yC-pho/SIYJgmS5JgI/AAAAAAAAABY/CNu9Bq2nGTk/s72-c/babeh+deer.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-6617189703482159321</id><published>2008-01-10T15:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T15:27:03.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>nocebo</title><summary type='text'>Washington Post wrote about it so it's definately going either give cause for concern to people who say they aren't going to take care of themselves, they are on the 50 year plan Or they might get scared and rethink the way they look at life.that's the opposite of the placebo effect; the mind doesn't fool  itself into feeling better, it fools itself into dying. People get  worse because they </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/6617189703482159321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=6617189703482159321' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/6617189703482159321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/6617189703482159321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2008/01/nocebo.html' title='nocebo'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-6517052242266700655</id><published>2007-06-05T15:33:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T11:11:49.030-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Archives'/><title type='text'>old blog postings from My Space</title><summary type='text'>Thursday, May 24, 2007an email response from my friend in VA who does a lot of ancestry genealogical stuff... family from the Mayflower so she's very interested. Here in VA during the 1920s and 30s, under influence of the eugenics movement [taken to extremes by Hitler], if you claimed to have any native blood in you, you could be imprisoned for a year.Records the state had of native matters were </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/6517052242266700655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=6517052242266700655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/6517052242266700655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/6517052242266700655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2007/06/old-blog-postings-from-my-space.html' title='old blog postings from My Space'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10950148.post-110885893724308892</id><published>2005-02-19T17:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-02-19T17:28:29.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>growing old</title><summary type='text'>I don't wake up with any motivation so I asked my friend, who's got her shit together, what is it that gets her going everyday? and she answered, i just get up, put my feet on the floor and start my day... I'm still trying to figure out what she means by that and how can that work for her or anyone else? Getting up in itself seems to be an ordeal, much less getting excited about anything.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/feeds/110885893724308892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10950148&amp;postID=110885893724308892' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/110885893724308892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10950148/posts/default/110885893724308892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feetonthefloor.blogspot.com/2005/02/growing-old.html' title='growing old'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04468106878648747606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
