<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410</id><updated>2009-09-28T23:58:06.421-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Letters to 2 Girls</title><subtitle type='html'>A father writes to his two young daughters to explain his views on life, love, fatherhood, and whatever other nonsensical, rambling, caterwauling he can come up with.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-115118124215872955</id><published>2006-06-24T16:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T16:34:02.176-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You can't prove Christ</title><summary type='text'>Girls,
 I’ve had this discussion with a few people and I find it a compelling viewpoint in the argument for Christ.  Ok, so you’re in a conversation with one of your girl friends who doesn’t believe that Jesus was the messiah (you’ll meet people in your lives that don’t believe in God at all, much less in Jesus, but that’s another topic).  So, here’s how the conversation goes:    Your girl friend</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/115118124215872955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=115118124215872955' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/115118124215872955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/115118124215872955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2006/06/you-cant-prove-christ.html' title='You can&apos;t prove Christ'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-114411209989401653</id><published>2006-04-03T20:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T20:59:04.760-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What happened to Bambi's Mom?</title><summary type='text'>
Jenna,

One day when we were all watching the movie Bambi together, we came to the scene where Bambi’s mom dies.  The two of them are out in the meadow, playing.  Bambi’s mom gets nervous, sensing something is wrong.  She yells “run Bambi, to the thicket, run!”  So the two take off running for the thicket.  “Keep running Bambi, run! Run!”  A gunshot is heard.  Bambi runs and runs and arrives in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/114411209989401653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=114411209989401653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/114411209989401653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/114411209989401653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2006/04/what-happened-to-bambis-mom.html' title='What happened to Bambi&apos;s Mom?'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-113842159684815761</id><published>2006-01-27T22:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T21:10:51.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>By Order of Law, Vacate Your Home Immediately</title><summary type='text'>Kelo vs. New London.   A society gone amuck.












Susette Kelo received notice of condemnation
from the NLDC (New London Development Corporation) the day before Thanksgiving
2000.



Megan and Jenna,

Sadly, one thing that happened while you guys were just 4 and 5 ½ years old was that the Supreme Court made one really bad decision.  Not that they’ve never made a bad decision before, but </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/113842159684815761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=113842159684815761' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/113842159684815761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/113842159684815761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2006/01/by-order-of-law-vacate-your-home.html' title='By Order of Law, Vacate Your Home Immediately'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-113746218557783573</id><published>2006-01-16T20:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T21:09:20.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things You Never See Part 2</title><summary type='text'>Read part 1   Megan and Jenna,   In part 1, I mentioned that there was another example of things you never see.  Unfortunately, with the Rodney King incident, a man was beaten, police officers’ lives were endangered, and the combination of a misrepresented video and racism mixed to cause awful riots.  As you’ll see in my next example, it wasn’t a small group of deaths and the loss of property </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/113746218557783573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=113746218557783573' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/113746218557783573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/113746218557783573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2006/01/things-you-never-see-part-2.html' title='Things You Never See Part 2'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-113642516639254421</id><published>2006-01-04T20:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T20:44:48.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Things You Never See</title><summary type='text'>
Megan and Jenna,
One lesson that’s hard to teach to kids, or adults for that matter, is how to see the unseen. Now what the heck does that mean? See the unseen. Well, one of the problems in our society is that everything is geared towards an end goal. Usually the end goal is profit. So, in the case of the media, instead of reporting on news situations around the world in an objective manner,
we </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/113642516639254421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=113642516639254421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/113642516639254421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/113642516639254421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2006/01/things-you-never-see.html' title='The Things You Never See'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-113150194829454062</id><published>2005-11-08T20:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T21:18:29.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tent for Christmas</title><summary type='text'>No, I don't want a tent for Christmas. I have a tent. It's a great little
  tent. Albeit, when it’s raining, it's a tent that leaks as though someone
  cut a hole in the top and placed a fire hose in it. Sleeping in that tent in
  the rain is akin to rafting the Nantahala without the raft. In fact, each morning
  when I'm in the shower, I get all nostalgic about the last time I went camping
  </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/113150194829454062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=113150194829454062' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/113150194829454062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/113150194829454062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/11/tent-for-christmas.html' title='A Tent for Christmas'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-112784675361813735</id><published>2005-09-27T14:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T14:50:20.040-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jenna and the Garden of Eden</title><summary type='text'>It's easy to get tounge tied when conversing with your mentally superior 3 year old:

Jenna, age 3: "Papa, um, why did God tell Adam and Eve to not eat (that fruit) from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil?"

Perplexed father: "Gosh, sweet pea, that's a good question.  Ah, ...I don't know the answer, but I'm sure God had a good reason for saying that."

Jenna: "Yeah, it was probably that the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/112784675361813735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=112784675361813735' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/112784675361813735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/112784675361813735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/09/jenna-and-garden-of-eden.html' title='Jenna and the Garden of Eden'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-112481846649541028</id><published>2005-08-23T13:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T20:11:57.913-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An end to the dancing</title><summary type='text'>On the loss of mans best friend. My best friend.
Today is August 23rd. Exactly two years from the day my father passed away.
  Maybe it's no coincidence that today was the day I had to put Belle down. After
  thirteen years it was finally time to let her go. She was a great dog. A
  great friend. She was a constant in my life for all those years. She was
  like a child to me. And for those people</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/112481846649541028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=112481846649541028' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/112481846649541028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/112481846649541028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/08/end-to-dancing.html' title='An end to the dancing'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-112259909829643701</id><published>2005-07-28T21:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T14:59:07.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bombings in London.  Can we please just get on with the racial profiling and stop trying not to offend the offenders?</title><summary type='text'>"Welcome to a free society, can I take your order please?"
"Yes, I'd like one order of racial profiling, with a side of tell-the-ACLU-to-shut-the-hell-up,
to go please"

  
     
    
  
  
     
    Some of the victims of the bombings in London 
  

Well girls, here we are again looking at the news at scenes of devastation
  following a terrorist attack. This time, on two separate occasions, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/112259909829643701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=112259909829643701' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/112259909829643701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/112259909829643701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/07/bombings-in-london-can-we-please-just.html' title='Bombings in London.  Can we please just get on with the racial profiling and stop trying not to offend the offenders?'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-111378653066142073</id><published>2005-04-17T20:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T14:27:43.993-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And I almost missed it</title><summary type='text'>Dads only get one chance for a first dance...

Jenna,
The other day I was rushing around, getting you, Megan, myself, and everyone except your mother ready for church.  You are about 3 1/2 years old at this point and we had put you in a brand new dress.  One that went way down to your ankles.  You came rushing down the stairs to show me your new dress and you were so excited.  You and Megan </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/111378653066142073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=111378653066142073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/111378653066142073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/111378653066142073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/04/and-i-almost-missed-it.html' title='And I almost missed it'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-111108702806237562</id><published>2005-03-17T13:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-25T10:37:42.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Your father is a nutbag.  How to exchange a Cheeto for a Corned Beef on Rye.</title><summary type='text'>A father explains to his little girls about why he sold a Cheeto on ebay (as if that kind of thing needs explaining)Megan and Jenna, 
OK girls, by now you see that your dad has a screw loose. Well, actually, I don't
have a screw loose, but I am just one Cheeto® short of a full bag. One day, I was having lunch, eating some Cheetos when out popped from the bag a Cheeto that looked just like the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/111108702806237562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=111108702806237562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/111108702806237562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/111108702806237562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/03/your-father-is-nutbag-how-to-exchange.html' title='Your father is a nutbag.  How to exchange a Cheeto for a Corned Beef on Rye.'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-111057036576750993</id><published>2005-03-11T14:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-11T21:28:48.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Peachtree DeKalb Airport scandal.  Some Things are Worth Fighting For</title><summary type='text'>A father writes to his little girls about corruption, cover ups, and causes worth fighting for

Megan and Jenna,
Undoubtedly, throughout your lives, you are going to come across issues in our society that motivate you. Certain things you find cause to want to do something about. Certain things that just need to be fixed. And, some things are worth fighting for. Some things are even worth dying </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/111057036576750993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=111057036576750993' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/111057036576750993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/111057036576750993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/03/peachtree-dekalb-airport-scandal-some.html' title='The Peachtree DeKalb Airport scandal.  Some Things are Worth Fighting For'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-111030345501143083</id><published>2005-03-08T12:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T13:23:03.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Find What Makes You Happy</title><summary type='text'> A father explains to his young daughters "How
    do I know what I want to be when I grow up?" 
  
Megan and Jenna,
You'll often hear people say "if you find a job you love to do, you'll
  never work another day the rest of your life." Well, that's pretty true.
  The tough part is finding exactly what makes you happy. What makes you tick?
  What are you passionate about? The difficulty that a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/111030345501143083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=111030345501143083' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/111030345501143083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/111030345501143083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/03/how-to-find-what-makes-you-happy.html' title='How to Find What Makes You Happy'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-110857646524651099</id><published>2005-02-16T12:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T13:32:14.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Classic Conversations with little girls</title><summary type='text'>A Father's Classic Conversations with his little girls. As the father
    of smart little girls, a dad has to think quick on his feet. He's always
    got to come up with brilliant answers. Can anyone tell me how to do that?
    : ) 
Jenna (3 years
    old)- "Daddy
  is that the front of the house (pointing towards the front of the house) and
  that is the back of the house?"
Dad (age </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/110857646524651099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=110857646524651099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110857646524651099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110857646524651099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/02/classic-conversations-with-little.html' title='Classic Conversations with little girls'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-110719830475683420</id><published>2005-01-31T14:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T21:27:43.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"God Sighted in Sunroom, more at 11…"</title><summary type='text'>A father speaks to his daughters-
 
 "On Lumber, Air Conditioners, Cedar Siding, and Answers to Prayer"  You didn't know God was in your sunroom?  Well, he's in mine.  What's wrong with your sunroom anyway?  I figured he was in every sunroom, maybe I was wrong.  Anyway, you've probably read about a serious accident I had while remodeling our sunroom several years ago.  And from that, you </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/110719830475683420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=110719830475683420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110719830475683420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110719830475683420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/01/god-sighted-in-sunroom-more-at-11.html' title='&quot;God Sighted in Sunroom, more at 11…&quot;'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-110661743959374007</id><published>2005-01-24T20:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T21:30:52.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversions of Faith.  How a father chose his religion.</title><summary type='text'>A father explains faith to his daughters. How does a person grow up with one faith, then change to another?

Megan and Jenna,
By the time you are old enough to read and write, you’ll probably know that Grammy is Jewish but I am Christian. While you may be a little young to understand that, I’ll try to explain it. You see, I haven’t always been a Christian. I grew up in a Jewish household. Grammy </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/110661743959374007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=110661743959374007' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110661743959374007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110661743959374007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/01/conversions-of-faith-how-father-chose.html' title='Conversions of Faith.  How a father chose his religion.'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-110574067841324433</id><published>2005-01-14T17:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T13:44:54.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Your dad was er, ah, um, um, ….previously married</title><summary type='text'>A father writes to his daughters about learning from other people's mistakes

Girls, I'm sorry to just blurt out the fact that I was previouly married like that. This particlar letter is a tough to write. Probably much tougher for you to read. But, we sleep in the bed we make (or some other saying like that) so I can’t just hide it from you. It’s a part of who I am, and thus, it’s a part of who </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/110574067841324433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=110574067841324433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110574067841324433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110574067841324433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2005/01/your-dad-was-er-ah-um-um-previously.html' title='Your dad was er, ah, um, um, ….previously married'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-110261256903246868</id><published>2004-12-09T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T21:16:17.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Letter 2004</title><summary type='text'>Friends and Family,

The world of little girls moves fast. If you're not paying attention, a whole year will go by. The next thing you know, you'll be writing another Christmas letter. The cycle of life doesn't seem to me like the kind ofthing that runs in a circle from January to December. It's just that you had better take some time to write some of it down. Otherwise you'll miss it entirely. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/110261256903246868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=110261256903246868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110261256903246868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110261256903246868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2004/12/christmas-letter-2004.html' title='Christmas Letter 2004'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-109474021278396298</id><published>2004-12-08T10:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-08T18:01:00.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>That Last Little Hex Head Screw</title><summary type='text'>Put a little perspective back in your life. A father writes to his daughters about a defining moment in his life when God was there. Way back before either of you were born, around 1998, your mom and I bought our first “together house.” I had owned a house before we got married,but that house wasn’t really your Mom’s house. So, eventually we came into town and picked out a ramshackle, tarbeaten, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/109474021278396298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=109474021278396298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109474021278396298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109474021278396298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2004/12/that-last-little-hex-head-screw.html' title='That Last Little Hex Head Screw'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-110061669984646731</id><published>2004-11-16T09:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T21:38:53.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merck and Vioxx are Just the Beginning</title><summary type='text'>Just as "Accounting Irregularity" investigations have become all  to commonplace in corporate America, the issue unfolding today where Merck  stands accused of withholding patient safety information on Vioxx is just the  tip of the iceberg. The pharmaceutical industry is on its way to being exposed  in a criminal way. A father with eight years of experience in the pharmaceutical  world speaks out</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/110061669984646731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=110061669984646731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110061669984646731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/110061669984646731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2004/11/merck-and-vioxx-are-just-beginning.html' title='Merck and Vioxx are Just the Beginning'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-109899538811867780</id><published>2004-10-28T16:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T16:31:04.836-04:00</updated><title type='text'>God's Plan and the Secret Service</title><summary type='text'>A father writes to his daughters: "Girls, there is a plan for every  life. Unfortunately, God doesn't email it to you when you are born."Megan and Jenna,Girls, there is a plan for every life. Unfortunately, God doesn't email  it to you when you are born. In fact, that's part of the plan too. Presbyterians  believe in predestination. That, however, doesn't mean a person gets  to do whatever they </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/109899538811867780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=109899538811867780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109899538811867780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109899538811867780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2004/10/gods-plan-and-secret-service.html' title='God&apos;s Plan and the Secret Service'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-109777581187993431</id><published>2004-10-14T13:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-14T14:01:28.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why We are at War</title><summary type='text'>If you hate the war, you have to read this. A letter written by a father who explains to his son exactly why the U.S. is at war with Iraq. "When good men stand by and let evil happen is the greatest EVIL of all."

Megan and Jenna,
I did not write the letter that follows. An unknown author sent it to me, but it points out exactly how I feel about why we are at war in Iraq. I really hate war in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/109777581187993431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=109777581187993431' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109777581187993431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109777581187993431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2004/10/why-we-are-at-war.html' title='Why We are at War'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-109752358509147539</id><published>2004-10-11T15:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T16:36:11.716-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hunting for the Harvest</title><summary type='text'>A father writes to his daughters. Why would anyone hunt and kill a beautiful animal if they didn’t need the food? If you don't understand hunting, read this.Megan and Jenna, I figured that although you two are used to having me talk about hunting, that some day you are probably going to question it. Most people do not hunt, nor do they understand hunting. Why would a person want to kill an animal</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/109752358509147539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=109752358509147539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109752358509147539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109752358509147539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2004/10/hunting-for-harvest.html' title='Hunting for the Harvest'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-109692198728343459</id><published>2004-10-04T16:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-05T17:33:19.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sleek Black Dress </title><summary type='text'>Megan and Jenna,Tonight was your Mom’s 20th high school reunion. That makes her sound old doesn’t it? Well, by the time you two get to your 20th, you won’t think so. Anyway, your Mom was on the reunion committee and worked a lot over the last year to get this event organized. Being at the reunion with all your Mom’s friends was fun for me. I got to know more of her friends from when she was </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/109692198728343459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=109692198728343459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109692198728343459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109692198728343459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2004/10/sleek-black-dress.html' title='A Sleek Black Dress '/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8252410.post-109655733902445560</id><published>2004-09-30T11:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-18T11:52:29.650-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Accomplishments are Cumulative</title><summary type='text'>Megan and Jenna,I wanted to write a little bit to you about your Mom. Who she is, where she comes from, and the things she has accomplished in her life. Not to mention how incredible she looked tonight, but that’s a letter for a different day. I’m hoping that by the time you two read these letters that you’re old enough to internalize them, smart enough to understand their purpose, and mature </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/feeds/109655733902445560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8252410&amp;postID=109655733902445560' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109655733902445560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8252410/posts/default/109655733902445560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettersto2girls.blogspot.com/2004/09/accomplishments-are-cumulative.html' title='Accomplishments are Cumulative'/><author><name>ng30345</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14028237862986495740'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry></feed>