<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss version="0.92">
<channel>
	<title>Belinda&#039;s blah, blah, blog...</title>
	<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog</link>
	<description>entertainment, encouragement and enrichment</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Thu, 17 Nov 2011 17:35:28 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<docs>http://backend.userland.com/rss092</docs>
	<language>en</language>
	<!-- generator="WordPress/3.1.3" -->

	<item>
		<title>Flashback</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I was wandering the streets of Rome trying to find a souvenir to take back for my daughter still living at home. I suddenly had a flashback to 1972 when I was not much younger than she is now. My parents had just returned from a business trip to Mexico. They were so excited about [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog/2011/09/29/flashback/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>A Dear John Letter</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear John, It was the sixth grade when we decided to go steady. Steady as two eleven year-old kids can go while attending different elementary schools and seeing each other what seemed an eternity’s wait &#8211; once a week at church. The relationship just didn’t work out and I never faulted you for that. I’m [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog/2011/09/15/a-dear-john-letter/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Up in Smoke: What’s Your Exit Plan?</title>
		<description><![CDATA[For a week now wildfires are raging all around where I live and many parts of Texas due to one of the worst droughts in Texas history. Many homeowners were ordered to evacuate and later allowed to return, some to find a home unscathed while others lose everything. The question is what would you or [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog/2011/09/12/up-in-smoke-what%e2%80%99s-your-exit-plan/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Anonymous Note “To Resident”</title>
		<description><![CDATA[The sofa was in good condition and I wanted to give away. I could have sold it, but a new school year is beginning and I envisioned a college student needing it for a first apartment. My goal was to get it from our second-story and out of the house without petitioning my busy husband. [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog/2011/08/25/anonymous-note-%e2%80%9cto-resident%e2%80%9d/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Getting the Finger</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I should have known better. It’s not like it hadn’t happened before. I just wasn’t thinking. I opened the flip lid of the canister. Down inside the plastic cylinder was a roll of moist wipes. I needed them to dispense up through the slot in the lid. So I took the middle finger of my [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog/2011/07/10/getting-the-finger/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Longing for Daddy</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I well recall that first Father’s Day after Daddy died. It had been sixty-five days since he had drawn his last breath. Sixty-five excruciating days each filled with at least one good cry. And another milestone to get behind me: Father’s Day. It was Saturday afternoon and I needed a few items from the grocery [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog/2011/06/19/longing-for-daddy-5/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Just My Imagination</title>
		<description><![CDATA[My ten year-old granddaughter Sara came to stay with me for a few days.  We were out in the backyard watering flowers and we sat down on the wicker loveseat for a break.  The loveseat backs to a tree-lined bed of greenery and flowers near two side chairs and two occasional tables.  As I surveyed [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog/2011/06/06/just-my-imagination/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>No More Buttermilk</title>
		<description><![CDATA[“The old gray mare she ain’t what she used to be&#8230;many long years ago” are words to a song many of us sang as kids. It’s one that comes to mind as I observe the “twilight” years  of my beloved Mother (who is visiting for the week) and our dachshund, Tootsie Roll.  Mother is ninety-one [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog/2011/05/19/no-more-buttermilk/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Regrets to Relief</title>
		<description><![CDATA[“What are you going to do with all of those colored eggs?” “We’re going to fill them with confetti and make confetti eggs or they’re also called cascarones. Then the kids smash them on each others’ heads at Easter.” My ninety-one year old mother looked at me as if this made no sense. The evening [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog/2011/04/23/regrets-to-relief/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Today Could Be My Last</title>
		<description><![CDATA["You could die before you finish this chapter."]]></description>
		<link>http://belindahowardsmith.com/blog/2011/04/10/today-could-be-my-last/</link>
			</item>
</channel>
</rss>

<!-- Dynamic Page Served (once) in 0.675 seconds -->

